Denver

by Sara Orwig

  Mary stood by the window watching him. Sunlight played over his rippling muscles as he swung the ax. Her gaze ran over his long frame and down his legs. He paused, wiping his brow, and she realized how hot he must be. His chest was covered in golden curls. Unobserved, she stood quietly, studying him, his narrow waist and low-slung pants, the gunbelt hanging still lower. She turned away, picking up the dipper to fill a cup with cold water to take outside to him.

  “Want some water?”

  “Thanks,” he said, glancing down at his hands, which were grimy from handling the kindling. He took the cup from her and drank, and she couldn’t stop watching him. She tried to avoid the pull, but was unable to do so. She let her gaze slide down over his chest. She looked back at him to find him watching her as he wiped his mouth with his arm.

  “Thanks, Mary,” he said quietly, staring at her with that same brooding intensity that he had had all morning.

  She nodded and hurried inside, her heart pounding. When she was near him, her heartbeat speeded up, her breathing changed, and she was acutely conscious of him. She heard the ax again. Michael groaned, and she went to the bed. It was impossible to hold him up without Dan, so she called to him.

  He came at once, and she asked, “Will you help me?”

  Dan filled the dipper with cold water for Michael. He held him while Michael drank. Michael struggled to sit up. Mary felt his forehead. “He’s still feverish.”

  “Get me up,” Michael whispered. Dan leaned down to help him, taking his weight. He realized Michael O’Malley was heavier and about two inches taller than he himself was, and he was solid muscle.

  Each step was slow, an effort for Michael that made him wheeze and groan. “Mary, watch the cabin while we’re in back,” Dan said. He realized how vulnerable they would be if any of the men caused trouble.

  Mary left them, hating to see Michael struggling so to walk, yet thankful for each step he took. She moved to the front door and brushed angrily at tears. It upset her to see Michael hurt. She went to the back door to meet them when they returned.

  “Let’s get him to the bed. This has exhausted him. If you can get some stew down him, it’ll help.”

  She nodded, and finally Michael stretched out. They fed him, and he was asleep again as soon as he finished.

  “He should be a little stronger after getting up. We need to change the bandages, Mary.”

  She laid out the clean rags and left Dan to work on Michael. While he worked, she pumped water to heat. Dan returned to chopping wood while she cooked. She cast glances out the window, watching him. She paused once, watching him work, aware of how much he was doing for her and her family, knowing his own work was suffering, and reminding herself that he did it out of his friendship for Silas. She had to constantly remind herself of Silas, and it was becoming more and more of an effort, because she was conscious of Dan in a way she had never been of Silas.

  She went outside to talk to him. “I’m going to wash the bandages and bedclothes,” she said, trying to talk to him without looking down at his bare chest.

  “Have you heated water?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a tin tub. I can put it behind your blankets and you can bathe if you’d like. Then you can wash the clothes.”

  The thought of bathing while she was shut in the one room with Dan Castle made her face flood with heat, but she wanted a bath badly. She glanced through the open door at the blankets surrounding her bed and nodded. “I’d like that.”

  He nodded as solemnly. “I’ll get it ready.”

  “Do you want me to wash any of your clothes?” she asked.

  “I can wash them,” he said easily. He moved away, getting out the tub, taking kettles of water and the buckets she had placed beside the fire to pour them into the tub.

  “It’s ready,” he said, holding aside the blanket for her. As she moved past him, her shoulder brushed his chest very lightly, yet she was startlingly aware of it. He stood there watching her, smoothing the faded and frayed green blanket, running his fingers idly along the rope, and she was caught in an invisible current that held her.

  “Would you like a little more water? There’s still a bucket by the fire.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she answered. Both of them stared at each other, and neither of them looked at the tub of water.

  “If you need anything, call,” he said, his voice sounding deep and gruff.

  She nodded, unable to speak, feeling a pull that was intense. She wanted him to kiss her. Her heart thudded so loudly in her ears that she thought Dan couldn’t keep from hearing it. His blue eyes were stormy.

  “You’ll take your hair down?” he asked in a hoarse tone that had dropped another notch.

  She nodded slowly, trying to think about what he asked her, yet barely able to think at all. “Yes. I’ll wash my hair,” she said, and her voice had changed as drastically as his. She sounded breathless and uncertain. Finally her gaze dropped, trailing over his bare chest that was so appealing. Appealing and unsettling. She had seen men’s bare chests all her life, and they had never been a particularly disturbing sight until now.

  Dan watched her look at him, and her cheeks flushed again. Her breasts rose and fell swiftly with her shallow, quick breathing. He should go. He knew damned well he should go, but he couldn’t move. She was only a few feet away, drawn by the same attraction that held him to the floor as if nails had been driven through his boots.

  Mary battled with the powerful emotions that tore at her. Her longing for Dan and loyalty to Silas warred in her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, wanted him to reach for her, but knew she should not. She spun around, her fists clenched, her breathing ragged. “Dan, leave.”

  He blinked, sucking in his breath, looking at her stiff, thin shoulders. He knew he was causing her problems, yet he wanted to reach for her and pull her to him. She is betrothed to Silas!

  He left, striding outside and picking up the ax to attack the wood with an energy that made chips fly and his muscles strain.

  Mary heard him go, heard the ax, and she stepped back out from her corner to look at Michael. She drew a deep shuddering breath as she stood over her brother. “Get well, Michael, so we can go home, away from this place where reason and time vanish. Please Michael, get well.”

  He slept quietly, so she hurried back to undress and step into the tub of hot water. She let her hair down, sinking down in the water.

  Dan paused to wipe his brow and heard the splash of water in the tub. He groaned as he thought of Mary, only yards away, sitting naked in the tub of warm water. It was the solitude, the confines of the cabin that made him feel this way, he argued with himself. She wasn’t beautiful like Dulcie or Louisa. She was thin, and had small breasts, and was a little plain. He paused again and stared at the door of the house, hearing a splash. He couldn’t fool himself. She was beautiful with her hair down. Her skin was smooth and rosy, and her eyes could hold his attention riveted on her. But it was more than that.

  He swore and begun to swing the ax again. There was sufficient kindling chopped for months, but he couldn’t go back inside now. He paused again, thinking about Sorghum. Dan set down the ax and walked around to the front of the cabin. He could see men coming and going, working at the sluices, moving in and out of the mine dug into the mountainside. He stepped inside the front door, where he was in the cool shadows of the interior, and pulled over a chair to sit down.

  “Dan?”

  “I’m right here. I thought I should keep an eye on the men, Mary. If I’m in back chopping wood, we wouldn’t know if someone were coming.”

  “When I get out, do you want to bathe? The water’s still warm.”

  “Thanks, I’ll wash under the pump.”

  “That’s ice water. You’ll freeze.”

  “Silas and I did that all the time we prospected. You get accustomed to it after a time.”

  He heard splashing, and turned his head to stare at the blanket. Water splashed over the side on the
floor, and he turned around quickly to stare outside. He could hear Mary singing. Every sound grated on his nerves. He stoop up and moved to the door to lean against the jamb. Damn the O’Malleys. He was missing work, he was drawn to his best friend’s fiancée, and he felt as if he were enclosed in a cage in the small cabin. And worst of all, he thought it was only a matter of time until Sorghum recognized him. If any of the men knew there was a price on his head, Dan knew he would have real trouble from them. He turned and sauntered to the Henry, picking it up to check it again. He had all the pistols and rifles loaded, ready to use.

  Michael lay still, and Dan hoped Ta-ne-haddle would come, because when he had changed Michael’s bandages, some of the cuts looked infected and worse than before.

  He heard a splash and turned. Beneath the hanging blankets he could see Mary’s wet feet and a few inches of bare, wet legs. He sucked in his breath and moved to the door, turning his back to her to lean against the jamb again.

  “Dan, sure you don’t want to bathe now? If you don’t, I’m going to wash the clothes.”

  “I’ll wash outside, thanks,” he said, knowing he sounded gruff.

  “Want some of your things washed?”

  “Yeah. I’ll hand them to you.”

  “Wait! I’m not dressed. Just a minute.”

  He took another deep breath, clamping his jaw shut as he moved to his things and pulled out clothing he had worn. He rolled it in a bundle and turned.

  “All right, give it to me.” She pushed the hanging blanket aside and stood waiting. She had another blanket wrapped around her, her wet hair was smoothed away from her face, and her lashes seemed darker from the water.

  “It looks as if a pup washed, Mary. You splashed water everywhere.”

  “It felt good. I like a tub of hot water,” she said. She was warm and relaxed. He looked into her eyes as she said the last words, and all her calm vanished as swiftly as if storm winds had swept through the open doors of the cabin and carried it away. Dan gave her a heated look of longing that made her heart skip. When his gaze raked over her, he looked at her as if he could imagine her without the blanket.

  And suddenly it became a problem for her just to reach for the bundle of clothing he held against his chest. “I hope we can go home soon,” she blurted, then immediately wished she could take back the words. She wondered what had possessed her to say them aloud. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  “I hope so too, Mary.” He held out the clothing.

  “Just set it down,” she said, tightening her grip on the blanket. She wished she had dressed, but if she had done the wash with long-sleeved calico on, it would get splashed.

  She made a motion with her hand. “I’m not dressed. I thought I’d get my dress wet,” she said solemnly, and he nodded. “You can drop your things in the water if you want.”

  Watching her, he moved to the tub to let the clothing fall into it. He stood only a couple of feet away, close enough to reach out and touch her. “It’s just because we’re together so much,” she whispered. “I love Silas.”

  “I know you do,” he said roughly.

  He didn’t move, and her pulse began racing erratically. He reached out and she knew she should step back away from him, but she couldn’t. He tilted her chin up while his gaze held hers locked with his. “You’re a beautiful woman, Mary.”

  She was aware of his finger touching her chin, aware of the husky note of his voice, and was torn between wanting him and guilt

  “Mary,” he said in a husky voice. His arm banded her, and he kissed her. His mouth opened hers, his tongue thrusting deeply. It was wrong, but it was as necessary as breathing. Her arms were folded in front of her as she clung to the blanket.

  Mary’s heart pounded. She couldn’t slip her arms around him, because she had to hold the blanket. She couldn’t stop him because she wanted him to kiss her.

  Silas and Louisa both seemed so distant. Mary was torn with conflicting emotions, but at the moment all she knew was that Dan was kissing her and she wanted him to. She leaned away finally.

  “Dan, please go.”

  He moved away and she stared at him as he strode toward the door. Her emotions churned and she had to face the questions raised by Dan’s kisses.

  “Mary, when you’re finished with the wash and can watch the miners, tell me and I’ll shower,” he called from the doorway. His fists were clenched and he wanted to stride right back to her, but he knew he shouldn’t.

  “I will.” She washed furiously, trying to vent some of her feelings in her work. It was a tub filled with wet clothes and rags and sheets, yet Dan’s things were all she could see. She pulled up a blue shirt she had seen him wear many times. It was like one of Michael’s shirts. It was cotton, and it had a tiny rip on the sleeve, yet it was something of Dan’s, and consequently, touching it was like touching a part of him. She ran her finger along the seam, thinking about the shoulder usually beneath it. Shaking her head, she plunged it into the water and scrubbed.

  Finally she had a stack of wet garments. They were tightly wrung and ready to hang. “Dan?”

  “Yes,” he said, and came inside the cabin.

  “These are ready. Will there be anywhere to hang them?”

  “Sure.” Dan pushed aside the blankets to get the wet clothes. He scooped them up and hurried outside, trying to ignore her. It seemed as if every time he came closer to her, his desire burst to life. He couldn’t understand his reactions to her, but they were impossible to ignore and damn near impossible to control. He draped clothes over a rope he had strung from tree to tree, and in few minutes she appeared beside him.

  “I can help.”

  “I’ll do it. You go back inside and keep watch. I don’t want anyone slipping up on us.”

  “You think they would ever try again?”

  “Yes.” He turned to face her and then wished he had kept working, because every time he looked down into her wide green eyes, he was as lost as if he had fallen over a cliff. With an effort, he resumed hanging the wet clothes, and without looking around he was aware that she had gone inside.

  He washed at the pump with icy water, then pulled on his pants again. He had just buttoned them when Mary called.

  “Dan, Jethro is coming.”

  Dan yanked on his boots and shirt and hurried inside. “Is he alone?”

  Mary watched him suck in his flat stomach to tuck his shirt into his pants. “Yes,” she answered absentmindedly, her thoughts on Dan.

  He went out the front door to greet Jethro, who had come to see how Michael was doing. He came inside with Dan. “ ’Afternoon, ma’am. How’s your brother?”

  “Maybe a little better.”

  “Good. If anyone could pull through a bear fight, it’s Michael O’Malley. He asleep?”

  “Yes,” Dan answered. “Want to stay and eat with us?”

  Jethro looked torn with indecision, glancing worriedly over his shoulder. Dan realized the camp might be angry with Jethro for befriending Mary and him.

  “Thank you. I’d sure like a woman’s cooking for a change, but I better get back.” Suddenly he grinned. “I hear you sorta surprised the boys the other day.”

  “I suppose I did,” Dan answered carefully.

  “I warned you, they’re a wild bunch. I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble.”

  “Why don’t you take a bowl of stew back with you?” Mary asked, going to the fire to ladle some out into a tin cup.

  “I’d like that mighty well, ma’am. Indeed I would,” he said eagerly, going to take it from her hands. “Mmm, that does smell good! You folks need anything?”

  “We may need a wagon to take Michael back to Denver later. Any chance of buying one here?”

  Jethro frowned. “It’s Willie’s wagon. I can ask him. I suppose if the price is right, Willie would sell his right arm.”

  “See how much he wants for it or if he’ll take something in trade in case I don’t have the money. Tell him Miss O’Malley’s brother, her fa
ther, and a friend of mine are coming from Denver. Tell the boys my lawman brother is coming too.”

  “You got a lawman brother?”

  “Yes,” Dan said evenly. “He won’t bother anyone. All we want to do is get Michael back to Denver so he can get well.”

  Jethro nodded, and a worried frown creased his brow. “I’ll ask. When are those folks coming and how’re they finding our camp?”

  “One of them is a Kiowa. He can track anything. He’ll follow our trail out here as if we had burnt the grass all along the way.”

  “You joshin’ me?”

  “No. He’ll get here quickly as you and I did.”

  “I don’t think an Injun or anyone else can track like that.”

  Dan smiled. “You’ll see.”

  “I better tell the boys. They get nervous and quick with their six-shooters when people start appearing at camp.”

  “You tell them. I don’t want Michael’s brother or father shot.”

  “No. We’ll watch, but like I said before, keep ’em away from the mining. Thanks, Miss O’Malley.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Jethro.”

  They moved to the door as he left, and without thinking, Dan draped his arm across her shoulders. Jethro turned back and waved to them, then went striding toward a campfire the men were gathered around.

  “Well, you won a friend. He was so happy with your stew, he looked as if he would wolf it down right here.” He turned to look at her as he talked, and then he realized he had his arm around her. She stood close to him, looking up at him solemnly. He wanted to pull her tightly against him and kiss her.

  She moved away, crossing the room to the fire. They ate dinner in self-conscious silence, and Dan helped Michael to the privy once more, noticing this time that Michael could move a little better. As he held Michael and Mary fed him, Dan said, “He’s better.”

  Instantly her gaze flew to his, seeking reassurance. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes.”

  Michael fell back into a deep sleep, seemingly exhausted by his efforts. Dan barricaded the doors and closed the shutters, thankful the cabin was strong and built to withstand attack. He worried now about Ta-ne-haddle riding into the camp, yet he knew Ta-ne-haddle could get around in dangerous places with amazing ease. And he wondered where Brian was, why he or Paddy hadn’t appeared.