by Carol Finch
He shook his head, trying to sort out the jumbled thoughts. Maybe he was having a relapse from that brain-scrambling blow to his skull earlier in the week.
He stared pensively at Rachel’s departing back as she made her way to the medicine wagon. “We are going to discuss the incident—at length. Like it or not,” he vowed, though she was out of earshot.
Rachel barely remembered giving her musical performance that afternoon. Guilt, embarrassment and concern hounded her constantly. Plus, she wasn’t sure what Nate wanted to discuss about their passionate interlude. Did he remember the taste of the potion? Did he think it was his responsibility to propose to her when he realized that he was her first time? Probably.
He seemed to be an honorable man. However, Rachel refused to become his obligation. Despite common sense, she cared about him. Because she did, she refused to settle for being his obligation when she wanted to be the object of his deep, everlasting affection.
Not that it mattered what she wanted, she reminded herself sensibly. Nate was headed one direction and she was going another.
“Rachel?”
She flinched at the sound of Ludy’s voice floating from the darkness that had settled over the park.
“You okay? You don’t seem yourself today,” he observed.
She flashed him a saucy grin. “No? Then who am I?”
He grinned back. “That’s the burning question. Doc, Nate and I don’t know who you are, today or any other day. Why don’t you tell us?”
“Clever of you to try to pry information from me,” she remarked as she turned away. “Sorry but it won’t work. My past is a closed chapter…and not a very interesting one at that.”
“Seriously, Rachel, you’ve looked tense all day. Is there something wrong that I can fix?” he asked earnestly.
Rachel pivoted to face him, then reached out to poke playfully at the dimples in his cheeks. Before she had become involved with Nate, she had kept her distance from all men—Ludy included. Now that she had come to trust Nate, she felt more confident with physical contact with other men. Ludy might be a ladies’ man who flirted outrageously with other women, but he was respectful to her and he was her friend.
“You are a sweet man, Ludy, but there is nothing to fix.”
Ludy grasped her hand, gave it an affectionate squeeze and held it in his own. “If you need something, Rachel, all you have to do is ask me. You know that, don’t you?”
His sincere offer prompted her to press a sisterly kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I am honored to call you my friend.”
As she walked away to change clothes her eyes welled up with tears. Well, honestly, she thought as she brushed the moisture from her cheeks. It wasn’t like her to become sentimental mush at the drop of a hat or at the utterances of her newfound friend.
Yet, there was no denying that her emotions were in a tailspin after juggling the apprehensive events of the day to avoid disaster. She’d gone into a panic when she sighted Adolph’s dangerous henchmen and quivered with concern over Nate’s welfare. She’d fretted about the possibility of being discovered and captured. Then she’d become hopelessly consumed by the intimacy of passion.
The intensity of emotion and conflicting turmoil she’d endured all the livelong day exhausted her. Not to mention the additional mental strain of performing for the public while she felt at such odds with herself. What she needed was to venture off alone to sort out her troubled thoughts.
That was what Singing Bird always recommended when the emotional burdens of life closed in on you. There were times—like now—that Rachel wanted to seek the comforts she had known while living with her Cheyenne grandmother.
Come to think of it, this would be the perfect time to leave Kansas. She should have left a month ago, but she had stumbled on to Doc Grant, who needed her as much as she needed him to travel in anonymity.
Rachel jerked upright when someone grabbed her from behind and tried to clamp his hand over her mouth. The smell of sweat and liquor clogged her senses and she cursed herself for being so distracted that she hadn’t paid close attention to her surroundings. Damn it, she knew better. She had been trained to know better.
“Now that your human guard dog wandered off we can have ourselves some fun…Ouch!”
The ruffian behind her yelped in pain when she bit a chunk out of his finger, then gouged his soft underbelly with her elbow. Rachel tried to lurch sideways and dart around a tree so she could make a beeline for the safety of the medicine wagon. Unfortunately, a second man lunged from the shadows to grab the nape of her gown. He jerked her backward so hard that she lost her balance and landed on the ground with a thud that knocked the wind out of her, making it impossible to scream for help.
“Where do ya think yer going so fast, honey?” the second foul-smelling rascal jeered as he plopped down on her belly, forcing the air from her lungs again.
When she finally caught her breath, she tried to scream bloody murder but the first attacker crammed his smelly kerchief in her mouth and held it in place, even while she turned her head from side to side in an attempt to evade him.
Alarm spurted through her veins when the wiry-looking man on top of her held her wrists above her head with one hand, then shifted to jerk up her skirts with the other. Anger and outrage pulsated through her as she bucked and twisted, trying to unseat him.
Rachel was instantly reminded of dealing with drunken miners in Colorado and with Adolph in Dodge City. But this time she wasn’t carrying a pistol or her weighted purse to counter attacks. Her mistake. She hoped she survived, never to repeat the careless error.
Damn men everywhere! she fumed. The lusty bastards treated women as if they were theirs for the wanting and the taking. Fury riveted her when her assailant clamped his beefy hand around her knee to force her legs apart. When he shifted, she upraised her leg and slammed the heel of her shoe against the back of his head. He yelped in surprise and teetered sideways.
When he released her hands unintentionally, she took immediate advantage by clawing at the other attacker who held the kerchief over her mouth.
“You little wildcat,” he muttered while he tried to dodge her raking nails and still hold the kerchief in place.
Rachel curled upward and lashed out to scratch her assailant’s bearded face. When he recoiled in pain, she spit out the gag and shrieked at the top of her lungs. Serenaded by both men’s foul curses she rolled to her knees, then bounded to her feet. Unfortunately, she became tangled in her skirt and the men pounced, forcing her facedown in the grass.
She was still fighting for all she was worth when she heard two dull thunks behind her. Both men collapsed half-on, half-off of her. Before she realized what happened, Nate was kicking the men aside so he could pull her to her feet and hold her protectively against his chest.
“Damnation, I’m sorry, Rachel. Some bodyguard I turned out to be,” he said with a self-deprecating scowl.
While she panted to catch her breath, she saw him stuff his pistol into his holster. She presumed he had knocked out both men with well-aimed blows to the backs of their heads. Impulsively she struck out with her foot to kick both unconscious men in the shoulders, hoping to relieve her frustration with them. But it wasn’t enough. She kicked each one in the hip for good measure.
“Feeling better now?” he murmured as he rested his chin on the top of her tousled head.
“No—” Then Rachel did something she hadn’t done since she was a bereaved child who had lost her mother. She bawled her head off.
She hated displaying weakness of any kind. Unfortunately, the day had been too much. Conflict and tension had finally taken their toll on her composure. She clung to Nate as if he were her lifeline. She buried her head against his sturdy shoulder and cried—then cried some more.
“I…h-hate…c-crying—” sob “—like a b-baby,” she blubbered, humiliating herself further.
“You’re entitled.” He gathered her even closer, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a co
mforting gesture. “Let it all out, sweetheart.”
“I b-bet you—” sob “—n-never b-bawled your—” hiccup “—head off,” she mumbled as she dampened his shirt with salty tears.
“I’ve wanted to. Lots of times. Does that count?”
He bent to brush a gentle kiss over her cheek, then said, “Whatever you need, sweetheart, to make you feel better, I will see it done. I promise. Just name it, because your every wish is my command.”
The generous offer was the crowning blow that made her wail hysterically. It was at that precise moment—when his embrace became her port in an emotional storm, when the sound of his baritone voice soothed her tormented soul, when his comforting words overwhelmed her—that she fell in love with him. Utterly and completely.
She knew it was a foolish mistake because she was probably wanted for murder. Or had a price on her head—at the very least. In addition, Nate was an ex-lawman who would be leaving in two days. She had to let him go without breathing a word about the depth of her feelings for him.
She should pack up and rejoin her grandmother’s people. In fact, she shouldn’t have left the Cheyenne’s mountain camp in the first place. She’d thought she wanted to strike off on her own to make a place for herself in white society but that hadn’t worked out. Her dreams kept crumbling around her like windblown sand castles.
“Come on. Let me escort you to your room so you can bathe and rest,” he insisted as he guided her through the trees.
“Nate? What’s going on?”
Doc Grant’s concerned voice prompted Rachel to raise her head from Nate’s shoulder, but he continued to hold her protectively against him.
“Two drunken drifters attacked Rachel,” Nate said grimly.
“Oh, God. I should have paid more attention!” Doc howled.
“It was my duty and my fault. I was on the other side of the wagon, detaining the two men who chased after Rachel between her performances earlier this evening. So much for this laid-back little town and all its good citizens,” he said, then snorted in disgust. “There are always a few rotten scoundrels lurking in the shadows to ruin a town’s reputation.”
“What happened?”
Nate glanced over his shoulder to see Ludy walking swiftly downhill.
“Rachel was attacked. Go fetch that young marshal and have him lock up these two men. Tell him I’ll be at the office in the morning to file charges against them.”
“No!” Rachel reared back, then shook her disheveled head adamantly. “Just let them go.”
Nate frowned, bemused. “Why? They tried to—”
She cut off his objection with the slash of her arm. “I just want to leave this place bright and early in the morning without timely delays. I need to put the incident behind me.”
When Nate opened his mouth to reason with her, she peered up at him with watery eyes and a vulnerable expression that he rarely saw on her face. He felt his resolve falter.
His resolve split wide-open when she said, “You told me I could have whatever I needed,” she reminded him. “You promised, remember? What I need is to quit this town and head for Evening Shade first thing in the morning.”
He didn’t like the idea of allowing two lusty bastards to walk away scot-free. His strong sense of fair play protested strenuously. Nevertheless, he’d promised to give Rachel whatever she wanted to ease her suffering. He couldn’t imagine why she allowed those drunken drifters to go free, but she was insistent and he didn’t argue with her for fear of upsetting her more than she was already.
“Ludy, would you help Doc close up for the night and secure the wagon?” Nate requested.
“Sure. Be glad to,” Ludy agreed without hesitation.
Doc didn’t move downhill toward the wagon, just continued to stand there. He stared intently at Rachel, then looked directly at Nate. “No matter how hard you try, sometimes it’s impossible to save someone from harm, isn’t it?”
Nate had the feeling Doc was referring to something besides Rachel’s harrowing ordeal. He looked as if he were staring through a window of time, lost to an unpleasant memory that held him in its grips and refused to let go.
“Come on, Doc.” Ludy latched on to his arm. “Let’s get the wagon locked down. Rachel is in good hands.”
Not good enough, Nate mused as he escorted Rachel uphill. He hadn’t been there when she’d needed him and he felt guilty as hell about it. That, compounded with what had transpired between them in his hotel room this afternoon, was weighing down his conscience something fierce.
“I hate men,” Rachel muttered resentfully as Nate shepherded her into the hotel lobby.
“Bastards one and all,” he agreed to pacify her. “But I’m your bastard. Use me however you wish. If you don’t want those two worthless heathens jailed, how about if I beat the hell out of them to make you feel better? I can tell you from recent personal experience that having the hell beat out of you makes a lasting impression.”
“No.” She muffled a sniff, then groaned when the lighted lobby revealed the ripped shoulder seam and grass stains on the full skirts of her elegant green gown.
Dismayed by the damage to her garment, she teared up and sobbed again. Nate didn’t understand why. It was just a dress, even if she had made it herself, even if it held some sentimental attachment he didn’t know about. For certain, it was uncharacteristic for this iron-willed woman to cry over something as inconsequential as a dress.
“I’ll buy you another dress,” he offered as he opened the door to her room.
Anything to make her stop crying. Whimpering women usually didn’t get to him, but for some reason Rachel’s tears hit him right where he lived. “You can have two new gowns if you want,” he added generously.
She shook her head, and her silky raven hair tumbled over her shoulders in disarray. “You have enough expenses to cover after you lost everything you owned when you were attacked,” she said raggedly.
He clamped down on his tongue when he nearly confided that he could easily afford to replace his wardrobe—and hers—without putting the slightest dent in his funds. He liked that Rachel didn’t judge him by the money at his disposal and he preferred to keep silent about his family’s wealth.
“I’ll have the attendants fill your tub,” he volunteered.
She wiped away the tears that dribbled down her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Thank you. A bath sounds wonderful.”
“Anything else to make you feel better?”
“Ridding the world of men would be good for starters,” she said vindictively.
His lips twitched as he reached out to brush a speck of grass and dirt from her chin. “I’ll get right on it.”
Nate closed the door behind him and gave Rachel her privacy. Damn it, if he was going to shoot all men everywhere he had to start with himself. He had no doubt that Rachel was still reeling over this afternoon’s tryst, even if she’d tried valiantly to pretend she wasn’t upset.
He had taken her innocence, probably in a heated rush, but he couldn’t remember for certain. Which tormented him to no end.
If that wasn’t enough to ruin her day, he hadn’t been on hand to protect her when those scruffy bastards attacked her.
Rachel was right, he realized as he strode off to summon the attendants. Men were the bane of her existence. But he still couldn’t figure out why she objected to having those two ruffians arrested. It made no sense, given her low opinion of the male population. She should have wanted them locked in the calaboose so she could toss the key in the creek.
Yet, she didn’t want to press charges and she wanted to clear out of town, first thing in the morning. That’s what they would do. Anything to prevent her from dissolving into tears again. Clearly, she was embarrassed to expose the slightest weakness to him or anyone else.
He wondered which part of her mysterious past compelled her to be so self-reliant that she refused to count on anyone but herself and to conceal every vulnerability.
“One of these days,
you’re going to tell me,” Nate said resolutely to the vision floating above him. “I am going to sit you down and demand answers to all my questions. Then we are going to discuss today’s tryst and its possible consequences.”
One of these days. The words skittered through his mind and he realized there weren’t too many days left before he rode to Dodge City to do the job he’d volunteered to do. He was running out of time with Rachel and the thought of leaving her behind didn’t set well with him. Not well at all.
An hour later Rachel felt rested and revived—to some extent, at least. Soaking in the tub gave her the chance to relax for the first time all day. It did nothing, however, to soothe her guilty conscience. She kept thinking she should inform Nate that she had seen the three men who’d attacked him and she scolded herself harshly for refusing to arrest the drifters who attacked her. However, she was afraid the city marshal might mention that he had seen Nate’s assailants.
Of course, if the marshal had seen them, he might drop by to inform Nate, anyway. In which case, she couldn’t stop him for tracking them down.
Rachel expelled a sigh and rested her head against the back of the tub. She knew Nate would confront Adolph’s goons soon enough in Dodge City. She had to tell him before he left the medicine show and headed north. He needed to be forewarned before he rode into Dodge City and found himself at the mercy of those heartless bullies again.
What if he learned about Adolph’s attack and perhaps his death—well deserved though it would be. Nate might figure out that she was most likely the one who had killed Adolph. Or perhaps the one who seriously injured him before she stole several items from the storeroom, then dashed off into the night to confiscate the first available horse.
How would the former law-enforcement officer react to that information? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Rising, Rachel dried herself off, then padded across the room to dress in her nightgown. She plunked down on the bed, then drew up her knees to her chest. She felt angry and oddly restless. Yet she wasn’t going out after dark, even disguised in mannish clothing. Not after tonight’s unnerving encounter.
