Always You

by Jill Gregory

  Soon, we’ll go home soon, she told herself each night as she lay upon the large cool bed in the strange room and stared at the shadows on the ceiling.

  One thing that made her uneasy was that ever since they’d arrived, Wyatt Holden didn’t seem to have time for her; he wouldn’t even explain how it was he knew Melora was somewhere in the vicinity. He sent a maid up several times a day with her meals and to help her with whatever she needed, but he was always away, looking for Melora, he explained one morning, when he did stop in to urge her to be patient just a little longer.

  Jinx was lonely and worried and restless. Sometimes she stared at her legs. What weak, spindly, despicable things they’d become, stretched uselessly before her as she sat in her chair. She hated them; she hated the chair; she hated herself for not being able to walk, to go out and somehow look for her sister herself.

  She missed Aggie and the Weeping Willow, missed her kittens and her own cozy room with its books and dolls.

  Why don’t you try to walk? a voice inside her whispered.

  Try, right now. No one will know if you fail.

  She remembered how she’d fallen in the kitchen, how Wyatt Holden had scooped her up and carried her into the parlor the night Melora had disappeared. She hadn’t tried since.

  Don’t think about that. Try. Your legs aren’t broken. They don’t even hurt. You should be able to do it.

  Jinx closed her eyes. She thought of the derring-do of the Knights of the Round Table, of the pirates and princesses who had grand adventures and performed feats of bravery in her favorite storybooks. They were strong, courageous, agile.

  She couldn’t even walk over to the bed.

  Try.

  Hands trembling, she placed them on the arms of her chair. She pushed herself up, forward, placing her weight gingerly upon her booted feet as she slid them toward the floor.

  She was shaking all over. Her feet pressed to the ground, and then suddenly her knees buckled, and so did her courage. With a gasp of terror she threw herself backward, thumping down into her invalid chair and gripping the arms with desperate clinging fingers, like someone trying frantically to keep from being thrown off a horse.

  I can’t. I never will.

  The tears came. The ache of frustration that choked her combined with the loneliness inside her, and her sobs grew louder, harder. They echoed pitifully around the four blue walls.

  “Mel,” she whispered at last into the empty, pretty room. “Mel, I m-miss you. I need you. Where are you?”

  * * *

  Melora slipped out of the telegraph office well pleased with herself. She’d wired a message to Jinx—and Mr. Rappaport at the telegraph office in Rawhide would surely see that her sister received it. Jinx wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.

  A bitter smile curved her lips as she closed the door behind her and headed to the hitching post where Sunflower was tethered.

  There, Cal Holden. So much for you. I can still take care of my own business by myself and you don’t have a thing to say about it—

  Suddenly, strong hands grabbed her, hauled her clear off her feet and around the corner of the building. She found herself in an alley, a narrow dirt alley that was rank with the odor of rotting garbage.

  Melora spun to face whoever had grabbed her, her hand reaching instinctively for the gun tucked inside her jacket pocket.

  But she froze as Rafe Campbell seized her wrist. “Howdy, Melora,” he said gently.

  “Y-you!” she sputtered, fighting to quell the shock that was tying her tongue and her thought processes into knots.

  “It’s me all right.” A strange smile played around the corners of his full, handsome mouth. “And, honey, I’ve never been more surprised or happier to see anyone in my life.” He smiled more broadly at her then, but it was a wary smile, she thought, one that reflected oddly in his eyes, and suddenly the realization came thudding to her.

  He doesn’t know what I’ve been told. He isn’t sure if I know who he really is or what he’s done.

  “Wyatt,” she croaked. “Wyatt, darling,” she added, trying to infuse breathless joy into the stunned expression she knew was still frozen upon her face.

  “I’ve been so afraid. Terrified. You can’t know. Thank God you found me!”

  Rafe Campbell was watching her closely. Melora peered up into his eyes and grasped him by the shoulders. Here goes nothing, she thought, bracing herself as she leaned eagerly toward him and kissed him on the lips.

  They were the same lips she’d kissed countless times before, but this time a bitter chill wisped through her as her lips pressed momentarily against his. His mouth felt warm, moist, almost sticky.

  “How did you find me?” she asked, hoping she looked suitably grateful and very much in love.

  “Just lucky, I guess. Honey, are you all right?” His arms wrapped around her, clasping her to him in a powerful embrace that was intended to appear protective and warm but that felt stifling. And imprisoning.

  “I’m fine now that I’m with you.”

  “But what are you doing here? What happened to you?”

  “I got away,” she babbled. “And I sent you a wire... just now... you and Jinx... oh, Wyatt, thank God you’re here. I had no idea you were in Cherryville, looking for me.”

  She saw the wariness fade a little from his eyes. It was warring with relief. He wanted to believe her, Melora realized, her hope spiking. He wanted to be able to continue the charade of their engagement, to take her back to Rawhide, marry her, and get his filthy hands on her ranch.

  Damn you. Melora controlled the savage hatred jolting through her, and gave him the most dazzling smile she could summon up. “Wyatt, please tell me, is Jinx all right? And Aggie? I’ve been so worried about everyone!”

  “We’ve been worried about you, honey.” His arms tightened. “Real worried. You haven’t been hurt?”

  “No, he didn’t hurt me—”

  “Who’s he? Melora, who the hell took you?”

  He knows it was Cal. If you deny it, he’ll know you’re lying.

  “A man named Cal Johnson, a terrible, angry man. There were two others with him, but Cal was the leader. Wyatt, it was awful. He wouldn’t tell me why he kidnapped me, wouldn’t answer any of my questions. I was so frightened, but he just kept telling me that I didn’t need to know what he was doing. Oh, Wyatt,” she gasped, allowing her lower lip to tremble. “Please, let’s just forget about him and go home. I really need to go home.”

  “Sorry, Melora.” Wyatt shook his head. His eyes were the same piercing blue as the sky. “We can’t do that.” He lifted a hand and stroked it against her cheek, a feather-light touch. “No man is going to steal my woman and get away with it. We’re not going anywhere until I track down this Cal Johnson. And by the time I’ve finished with him, you can bet every acre of the Weeping Willow that he’ll never bother anyone else ever again. Tell me where he is.”

  “I don’t know exactly.”

  His eyes sharpened on her. There was a pause. “How is that?”

  “Well, I got away from him and... Wyatt, please. Can’t we go somewhere that’s quiet and safe and private to talk? Isn’t there a hotel? I need to rest, and I’d like some food. Please, I’ll tell you everything, but let’s get out of this alley and go someplace where Cal Johnson won’t stumble upon us.”

  Slowly he nodded. His eyes remained fixed and steady upon her face. “Sure, Melora. Whatever you say, honey. But I want you to know you don’t have to be afraid of Cal Johnson. I won’t let him or anyone else hurt you ever again.” His hand cupped her chin, tilting it up, high, higher. Melora felt a tiny strain along her neck. “You’re mine, and no one touches what’s mine. Do you understand?”

  Her throat dry, she nodded.

  “Hell and damnation, sweetheart”—he grinned—“you’re sure a sight for sore eyes.”

  He drew her closer. Melora held her breath, trying to smile, trying to melt against him as she once had, though every bone in her body screa
med for her to jump away and to run as far from this lying snake as she could get.

  “Oh, Wyatt,” she murmured. I’d love to cut out your heart with a bowie knife, she thought, and all the while she gazed limpidly into his eyes and brought her hand up to caress his smooth-shaven jaw.

  He was smiling that strange smile again, his eyes studying her. They inspected her the way a prospector would look over a nugget of gold to see if it was the real thing or fool’s gold.

  He doesn’t believe me. Not completely. He senses that something’s off, but he’s just not sure, and he’s not ready to call me on it yet.

  There and then Melora made up her mind. There was no way she’d set foot in a private hotel room with this man. She wasn’t going anywhere with him. She couldn’t keep up this charade much longer; the very nearness of him made her skin crawl and made her want to spit in his crystal blue, lying eyes.

  She kissed him. Somehow she forced herself to kiss him. And while his arms slid around her, and his mouth fastened upon hers, she reached ever so slowly toward the Colt tucked inside the pocket of her jacket.

  “Don’t move or I’ll blow your damned head off,” Melora whispered sweetly. Then she cocked the trigger with a loud click and jumped back out of his arms in one swift, graceful leap.

  Seconds ticked by. Campbell stared at her, not even a muscle twitching in his smooth, suddenly white face.

  “Have you gone loco, honey?” he asked at last, his tongue scraping against the corner of his lip.

  “No. I’ve come to my senses. I’ve finally figured out just what kind of a low-down snake-in-the-grass kind of varmint you are. I can’t believe I ever let you touch me, much less considered marrying you.”

  “Careful, Melora.” The eyes riveted upon her were as hard as polished stones. “You’re not making any sense, and you’re saying things you’re going to regret.”

  “The only thing I regret is ever having met you. Don’t you understand, you imbecilic weasel? The game is over. I’m on to you, Mr. Rafe Campbell. I know exactly who and what you are.”

  A sudden gust of wind rattled the broken weather vane atop the telegraph office and ruffled some papers in the trash heap behind her. Melora thought she heard something and glanced over her shoulder for a brief instant. She saw only the grimy buildings in the alley and the patch of blue sky beyond. Then swiftly she swerved her gaze back to Rafe Campbell.

  He hadn’t moved. He was staring at her calmly enough, but she saw the anger flashing behind his eyes like lightning against a summer sky.

  She might have been afraid, except that she was the one holding the gun.

  “I don’t know what that two-bit outlaw Cal Johnson told you, but he’s obviously fed you a trough full of lies. Don’t believe them. Don’t ruin what we had, Melora.” He sounded oddly sincere, almost passionate. The firm, handsome planes of his face were softened with appeal.

  And the throb in his voice was real.

  “Please, honey, put down the gun right now. Right now, Melora. Please.”

  “Go to hell.” She spit the words out contemptuously. “You’re a rustler, a murderer, and a thief. You’re responsible for the deaths of Joe Holden and that poor rancher Grimstock, and you would have let Cal hang for a murder he didn’t commit.” Rage suffused her, sparking golden flames in her tawny eyes. “And you’d have stolen my ranch... wouldn’t you? Admit it, you sniveling weasel. You’d have stolen the Weeping Willow, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m going to have both you and your ranch, Melora,” Rafe Campbell informed her with a curl of his lip. “I suggest you put the gun down.”

  “The hell I will—”

  She never saw Coyote Jack step out from the shadow of the building behind her. Never heard the sharp crack of the blow as he brought his fist down on her head. She knew only a blinding pain that exploded in her skull, and she glimpsed watery red splotches swim before her eyes as she crumpled like a rag doll into the dirt.

  Coyote Jack shook his head as he stared down at her and then at the man who’d hired him. “The lady wasn’t so glad to see you.”

  “Shut up. Help me get her out of here.”

  “Sure, boss. Where to?”

  Rafe Campbell smiled thinly as he lifted Melora easily in his arms and studied the sculptured beauty of her pale cheeks.

  “I know the perfect place.”

  * * *

  Jesse and the children all heard the thunder of Rascal’s hooves before Cal even came into view through the dense cover of trees. Horse and rider stormed up the path to the farmhouse and past the white gate in a blur. They all came running onto the porch as Cal drew up and dismounted in a gliding leap.

  “Trouble.” He flicked Jesse one terse glance. “I’m going into Cherryville to head it off. I want you and Melora to keep all the children inside. Lock the doors and windows, get out your shotgun, and you and Melora keep watch.”

  He was covered with sweat and dust from his ride. As he wiped an arm across his eyes, blotting up the sweat dripping down from beneath his hat, the children watched in silence.

  He glanced at each of them: Jesse, Will, Cassie, Louisa.

  “Where’s Melora?” he demanded.

  Jesse paled. With a hand that shook a little he shoved his mop of long brown hair from his eyes. “She’s not here, Cal. She’s been gone all afternoon.”

  “Gone?”

  “I thought she was with you.” Jesse met Cal’s narrowed eyes with a flicker of uncertainty. “She said she was going out for a ride, and I figured that she found you and the two of you were—” He paused, licking his lips and glancing at the intent faces of his younger brother and sisters. “I figured that you two were ironing out your differences.”

  “I haven’t seen her since breakfast. Did she take Sunflower?”

  Barely waiting for Jesse’s nod, Cal threw the next question at him. “Did she say anything about where she was going?”

  “No... out for a ride, that’s all she said.”

  Cal’s mouth tightened, a white line forming around his lips. He didn’t like the sound of this. He whipped around and scanned the countryside in every direction. On a distant ledge several antelope stood like statues in the fading sunlight. The wind tore through the grass and rattled the leaves on the trees. Birds swooped and wheeled.

  But there was no sign of Melora.

  He knew he had to track down Coyote Jack and deal with him before the bounty hunter found someone in Cherryville who might recognize Cal from the barbecue and tell Coyote Jack about the dirt-poor farm where he could find the man on the wanted poster. And he had to do it soon, or Coyote Jack could be snarling at their door by dark. Steel glinted in Cal’s eyes as he contemplated this scenario. He’d be damned before he let some money-grubbing bounty hunter get within a country mile of his family.

  But where was Melora? If she’d just gone for a ride, she should have been home by now. Unless she somehow got hurt or ran into trouble.

  The thought of her lying on the trail somewhere with a broken ankle or worse sent an ice-cold spear through his blood.

  He wheeled about in the front yard, searching the faces of his brothers and sisters. “Anyone know where Melora went?”

  “No, Cal.” Vehemently, his face tight with worry, Will shook his head.

  Cassie clutched the broom she’d been using to sweep the parlor floor. “Don’t know, Cal.”

  Lou stared at her older brother silently.

  “Lou?” Jesse threw her a suspicious look. “You know something, don’t you?”

  “I know lots of things, but not that.”

  “Yes, you do. I can tell!” Jesse stalked over and grabbed the little girl’s arm. “You tell us right now! We don’t have time for none of your games.”

  “That’s enough, Jesse,” Cal said sharply, and his brother let the girl’s arm drop.

  “Louisa, this is important.” Cal took a deep breath and continued steadily, dropping down on one knee to stare into her pale face. “If you know where Melora is, tell
me right now.”

  “But it’s a secret. I p-promised I wouldn’t tell.”

  A muscle jumped in Cal’s neck, but he kept a calm, even expression upon his face. “Louisa, promises don’t count when a person might be in trouble,” he told her sternly. “Could be Melora needs our help right now; she could have fallen off her horse or run into a rattlesnake or a bear. I’m not trying to scare you, Lou, but since Melora isn’t back yet, we have to start looking for her. So talk, now.”

  “She went to Cherryville!” the little girl said, her chest heaving as if she’d unloaded a great burden.

  Cal felt fresh sweat break out on his brow. He stood up slowly, rigid with anger not unmixed with fear, though he continued to speak quietly. “Did she say what for?”

  “To send a wire to her sister, Jinx. Do you know Jinx can’t walk?”

  “I know that, Lou.”

  “And Melora didn’t want Jinx to be worried about her. So she’s sending a wire. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there, Cal? Is there?”

  He didn’t hear her the first time she asked the question. He was staring in the direction of Cherryville. Hell and damnation, he’d never met a woman with more of a sixth sense for running into trouble.

  “Did I do something wrong, Cal?” Lou asked in a low, tremulous tone, braving the scowls of Jesse and Will.

  Cal answered her at last with steady reassurance. “No, Lou, you didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t you worry. I’m going to Cherryville right now to find Melora and bring her back.”

  But he didn’t like the feel of this. If Coyote Jack was here asking questions about him, having been hired by Campbell, then it was a good bet that Campbell was lurking somewhere nearby, too. He just hadn’t shown himself yet. Wouldn’t it be just like Melora to run into him?

  And then what?

  “I’m coming with you.” Jesse started toward the barn as Cal swung back into the saddle and picked up Rascal’s reins.