Straightening, he added in a casual tone, “I bet you’re hungry. Martha left a soup on, or if you’d rather, we could dig into that fresh peach cobbler.”
As he turned and headed for the outer room, her breathless voice brought him to a halt. “Rafe, I won’t let you stop me.”
He shot her a look over his shoulder. Despite her renewed vigor, the effects of her illness showed in the lingering brackets of pain visible around her mouth and eyes. His annoyance drained away. The words to tell her of his decision to steal the treasure hovered on the tip of his tongue. But for some strange reason, he couldn’t force them out, not even in the face of the suffering etched across her face. Well, hell. He had to tell her something to ease her mind, but what?
He sucked a deep breath into his lungs, then slowly expelled it. “I know how important saving Hotel Bliss is to you, Maggie. I understand it now better than ever. Listen to what I tell you. I won’t allow you to lose it, all right? One way or another, we will beat Barlow Hill at his own game.”
“You won’t try to stop me from going to Triumph?”
“I give you my promise that you won’t need to steal the treasure from Montgomery.”
Maggie’s eyes slowly blinked. “You promise? You’re giving me your word?”
“Yeah.” He turned away.
Her words surrounded him like a soft mist. “Then I can believe it. I don’t need to worry anymore. I know you value your word more than anything.”
He exited the room without speaking. It would have been kinder for her just to shoot him, he thought as he ladled hot soup into a bowl for her. Wasn’t that just like a woman to find a man’s most vulnerable spot and poke at it?
Of course, she hadn’t done it on purpose. She didn’t know she was as wrong as she could be. He had found something worth a helluva lot more than his word.
Rafe had found Maggie.
~~~~~~~~~~
When Maggie awoke the following morning, it took her a moment or two to figure out what was different. Her joints still protested any movement; little change there. The sky was bright, but that wasn’t it, either. The rain had ended and the clouds cleared off shortly before sunset last night. She pulled the pillow lying next to her on the bed over her face to shield her eyes from the rays of sunshine beaming through the window. That’s when she realized what it was.
The scent. His scent. He’d slept in the bed with her last night. For some reason that seemed even more intimate than the occasions when they had made love.
Before Maggie could decide how she felt about that, Rafe’s voice filtered into the room through the partially opened window. “Look what the coyote dragged in,” he drawled nastily.
His tone of voice was enough to cause Maggie to drag herself from the bed. She’d never heard Rafe speak with such loathing. Who could he be talking to? Gritting her teeth, she shuffled her way toward the rocker that sat beside the window. Sinking into it, she gazed outside.
A stranger sat atop a bay mare, both hands resting casually on the saddle pommel. A straw panama hat shadowed his face and a blue chambray shirt molded shoulders every bit as broad as Rafe’s. Maggie’s gaze drifted over him, stopping at the badge pinned to his chest. A lawman.
No wonder Rafe didn’t sound happy to see him.
The stranger said, “I was surprised when one of my lieutenants told me he’d witnessed your arrival here yesterday. I thought he had to be mistaken, but here you are in the flesh. What’s the matter, Malone? Did your conscience finally get the better of you? Did you decide to allow me the pleasure I have anticipated all these years?”
“You’ll never slip a noose around my neck again, Callahan. You had your chance and you let it get away.”
“Only because you hid behind a hero. Is Luke Prescott here to save your ass again, Brother dear?”
Maggie’s eyes went wide. Brother? She didn’t know Rafe had a brother.
“What do you want, Callahan?”
“I want to know why you’ve returned to east Texas. Please, tell me you intend to take up your thieving ways again here in my jurisdiction. I want to start planning the party I intend to throw at your hanging.”
Rafe gave a harsh laugh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’d take a real load off your shoulders. After all, I’m the only person alive who knows what a liar you truly are. Rachel and Rosa are dead now, aren’t they?”
Maggie gasped as the stranger, Callahan, whipped his gun from his holster and pointed it at Rafe’s heart. “Damn you, Malone.”
“Oh, I’ve been damned for decades, Brother, so your curses don’t worry me a bit. The only part that bothers me is knowing you’ll be standing right beside me in hell. Remember, Rachel Prescott and her children have been whispering in God’s ears for nigh on a decade now. Even though it’s my fault they died, you’re not free of blame.”
“That was war, Malone,” Callahan said, his voice a scathing rasp. “I regret that Captain Prescott’s family lost their lives, but I am not responsible.”
“Oh, really?” Rafe drawled. “Is that what you try to tell yourself about Rosa, too?”
Callahan’s roar of rage brought Maggie to her feet. She turned away from the window as he swung off his saddle. Moving as fast as her protesting joints would allow, she grabbed up her robe from the foot of her bed and slipped it on. Then she hurried toward the door.
The two men rolled in the mud, punches flying. Callahan had lost his hat, and with a start, Maggie realized that were it not for the fact he wore a blue shirt and Rafe a brown one, she couldn’t have told the two men apart. Not at first glance, anyway.
Brothers with different last names but near—identical features. Brothers hitting one another. All her life Maggie had wished she had a sibling. “What a waste,” she muttered. Reentering the cabin, she grabbed a bucket filled with water left over from yesterday’s baths. Wincing from the effort, she carried the bucket out onto the porch and waited for them to roll within reach. Then she threw the cold water on the brawling brothers and yelled, “Stop it! Now!”
Both men paused and looked at her. Blood lust glimmered in identical green eyes. Maggie had seen enough fistfights in her life to recognize when one had ended. This one was far from over. Making a quick decision, she allowed the pain she was feeling to sound in her voice as she said, “Rafe, I need help.” She released her knees and collapsed to the porch, grimacing at the jarring of her body against the floor.
She watched from half-closed eyes as Rafe shoved away from Callahan. In an instant he was on his feet rushing toward her. Callahan followed on his heels. “What’s wrong with her?”
Gently, Rafe scooped Maggie into his arms and carried her into the cabin. “Sweetheart, what do you need? What can I do?”
Her eyes fluttered open. “I could use a hot bath.”
“Let me get you to bed, and I’ll put the water on.”
Maggie’s gaze met Callahan’s, and she recognized the knowing curiosity in his look. Even as she flushed with embarrassment, she realized she’d accomplished her purpose. Neither man’s eyes continued to glisten with danger.
Rafe carried her into the small bedroom while Callahan stood awkwardly in the outer room. After laying her gently on the mattress, Rafe tucked her beneath the covers and returned to the kitchen, pulling the door shut behind him.
Maggie sighed heavily. What a bother. She couldn’t hear a thing going on in the kitchen with the door closed, and she wasn’t about to miss this. She tossed down the covers, climbed awkwardly out of bed, and made her way slowly toward the door. Cautiously, she cracked it open.
Rafe was speaking. “… Better things to do than play games with you. State your business and leave.”
“Who is she?”
The metal tub scraped across the puncheon floor as Rafe dragged it in front of the fireplace. “Go away, Callahan. The Texas Rangers have no cause to concern themselves with me.”
“Is she your wife? I hope to hell not. You’re hard on wives, aren’t you, Malone? Or is it
only other men’s wives you destroy?”
Rafe’s voice grew as cold as a blue norther wind. “I’d love an excuse to kill you.”
“The feeling is most definitely mutual. I’m here to give you fair warning, Malone. I and my men are the law in this part of Texas. You cross the line in my territory in the least little way, and I’ll see that you pay. With your life. The conditions of your pardon are etched in my mind, and the rangers will be watching you while you’re in east Texas. If we catch you doing anything the least bit illegal, it won’t come to a trial. I’ll string you up by the nearest tree and whistle a tune while I’m about it. This time Prescott won’t be around to interfere.”
Rafe showed him a mocking smile. “Consider me duly warned, then, dear Brother. Now, if you’ll excuse us? I must check on the lady. And shut the door on the way out.”
Seeing Rafe headed her way, Maggie tried to hurry back toward the bed. She didn’t make it.
“Oh, Maggie,” he said. “Your head is harder than red Texas granite. Was a little bit of snooping worth the pain?”
“Yes. He threatened you, Rafe.”
He settled her onto the bed, then sat down beside her. “You’re feeling better today, aren’t you? Your eyes are clearer.”
“I slept well last night. Rest helps. Moving is more of a nuisance today rather than a torment. Tell me about that man.”
“Let me get your bath first.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want a bath. I want to know about your brother.”
“Please don’t call him that,” Rafe replied, tension carving furrows on his brow.
“It’s what you called him.”
He raked his fingers through his hair and grimaced. She waited expectantly until a reluctant smile tilted his lips. “Stubborn, mule-headed woman. I don’t know how those pirates put up with you.”
“I told you before, Malone. They love me. Now tell me about your brother. His threats worry me, and it’s not good for my condition for me to be upset. Papa Ben believes anxiety contributes to these attacks, you know.”
“Manipulative and stubborn. You should be ashamed.”
“I am.” She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. She waited for him to look at her, then said, “But I’m also your friend. It sounds to me like I’ve brought you trouble without meaning to.”
Rafe lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “A friend. I like the sound of that. Not that it covers everything between us, but until we get a chance to hammer out the details, I reckon the term fits well enough. What happened just now has nothing to do with you, honey.”
“Still, I want to know. I could use a good story to distract me from my aches and pains.”
Rafe snorted. “Any story I’d have to tell about Nick Callahan is far from good.”
Maggie eased over in the bed and made room for Rafe. “Kick your boots off, Malone, and tell me about it.”
“You’re a forward woman, Miss St. John, inviting me into your bed in the middle of the morning. What would your grandfathers say?”
“Before or after they gutted you?”
“Ouch.” Rafe yanked off his footwear, then settled in beside her. “You’re gonna pester me until I give in, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Smiling, Rafe leaned his head against the carved oak backboard and draped one arm around Maggie. He closed his eyes. “Nick Callahan is my half brother.”
Maggie rested her head against his shoulder. “You had the same mother?”
“Oh, no. Nick and I were both unfortunate to be sired by Wallace Malone. That’s the name he used when he married my mother. He called himself Wallace Callahan when he married Nick’s.”
“He was a widower?”
“He was a bigamist.”
“Oh.”
“That’s what my mother said when Nick and his mother showed up at our door one afternoon and she introduced herself as my father’s wife.”
“Oh, Rafe. What happened?”
“Her name was Ellen Callahan. Apparently my father had used that alias when he went north to set up some sort of business scheme to cheat this woman’s family out of a substantial amount of money. I don’t know if it was part of my father’s plan or not, but Ellen ended up pregnant by him. When her father demanded marriage, my dear daddy went along with it, conveniently ignoring the fact he had another pregnant wife back at home. Anyway, he deserted Ellen before Nick was born and returned home to my mother as if nothing had happened.”
“Your father sounds like a real charmer,” Maggie observed.
“’Charmer’ isn’t the word I’d use,” Rafe dryly replied. “Anyway, as fate would have it, a decade later Ellen Callahan spotted him on a train. She followed him home and went a little crazy. Went a lot crazy, actually.”
“You were there?”
Rafe took a long time to reply, and when he finally spoke Maggie heard a wealth of feeling in his emotionless tone. “Yeah, I was there. I had a front-row seat. Ellen Callahan waved a pistol around as the sordid story spilled from her lips. Her father had disowned her. My father had ruined her life. She pointed the gun at ol’ Wallace and pulled the trigger just as my mother stepped in front of him. One bullet got them both. I couldn’t get the bleeding stopped.”
“Oh, Rafe, how horrible.”
“She lost all control at that point. Screaming and shouting at both me and her boy. Nick tried to help me, but the blood…” His eyes drifted shut. “They died within minutes of each other.”
Observing the expression on his face, Maggie’s heart broke. What an event for a child to witness! “Did Nick’s mother go to jail?”
“No. She killed herself. Before the sun set that night, he and I were both orphans.”
“How awful for you both,” Maggie said softly, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt. Is that what caused this animosity between you two? Surely you realized neither one of you were at fault for your parents’ actions.”
“’Animosity’?” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “That’s a little weak for what we feel, isn’t it? ‘Hatred’ is a better word, Maggie. I hate him and he hates me, but it’s not because of what happened with our parents. Actually, for a time he and I were friends. Now, though, either one of us will kill the other if we get half the chance.”
“So what happened?”
Words vibrated from deep inside Rafe’s chest. “After the killings, we went our separate ways. Nick ended up with family on his mother’s side, and I hooked up with a peddler. We traveled all around the South. While he was busy selling, I was busy thieving. Eventually, it was the stealing that led me to the Prescotts. Luke’s pa caught me in the act. I stayed to work off my debt and didn’t leave.”
“And where does Nick fit in? You must have seen him again sometime.”
“We met up again back in Thirty-five. Ran into each other in Nacogdoches. I was in town doing some lawyering, and Nick had plantation business to attend to. He’d taken up cotton farming and had himself a nice little spread. We entered the mercantile at the same time and only realized who the other was because we looked so damned alike.”
“You could be twins.”
“Yeah. I’m better looking, though. I’m older than him. Older by a week. Good ol’ Wallace had a busy February that year.”
He paused pensively and Maggie prodded, “So it wasn’t hatred at first sight there in the mercantile?”
“Not at all. Actually, we liked each other. We were bound by blood—literally and figuratively. He lost as much as I did that day his mother came calling.”
Rafe brushed his fingers slowly up and down Maggie’s arm. “We saw each other periodically over the next year. Nick was a personal friend of Sam Houston, and when they called up an army to fight the Mexicans, he was first in line to join. That’s the tragedy of the political ideals, Maggie. Nick had ‘em. Luke had ‘em. For a little while, I pretended to have them. And look at the trouble they brought.”
She had difficulty following h
is line of thinking. “You didn’t support the revolution?”
“I supported it. Shoot, war became inevitable the minute Mexico decided to flex its fist and bring Texas under national authority. They had invited Anglos to settle Texas to provide a buffer between them and the Indians, then they got scared when the colony began to grow and prosper. Especially when it became too closely allied to the great enemy, America. The Mexican government thought to solve the problem by bringing Texas to heel, implementing taxes and laws the Anglos couldn’t abide. Legally, the Mexicans had every right to attempt to govern the province under their terms. Morally, the colonists couldn’t let them do it.”
Rafe shrugged. “I looked at the war a bit differently from Luke and Nick and the majority of Texans. For me, the Texas revolution wasn’t as much about taxes and self-government as it was a clash of two very different cultures that were simply too disparate to coexist peacefully. Luke and Nick fought it because it was the right and honorable thing to do. I fought because I knew the war would happen sometime, and I figured better to get it over with now while my side still stood a chance at winning. Not very heroic of me, was it?”
“I don’t know that I’d say that,” Maggie said, lifting her head from his shoulders to look up at him. “Another way to look at it is that you fought the war so that those who came after you wouldn’t be forced to. It seems to me that fighting a war for your children’s sake is the very best of reasons.”
His eyes warmed. “That’s something I like about you, Maggie. You think for yourself. I haven’t always done that myself, and it has caused me a world of grief in the past.”
“Oh, really? That surprises me. Was your brother somehow involved?”
“How did you guess?”
“It wasn’t all that difficult. You’ve been circling around the subject for some time now.”
Rafe studied the quilt on the bed, tracing the outline of a star made of calico and gingham. “Callahan tracked me down in Bastrop in early March of Eighteen thirty-six. He was recruiting men for Sam Houston’s army. I didn’t want to fight for Sam Houston. The man was, and still is, a drunk. He reminds me too damned much of my father. Luke had already left for the Alamo by then, and since I had no plans to go anywhere at the time, he had asked me to watch over his wife and children while he was gone.” He turned his face away. “I said I would.”
The Wedding Ransom Page 22
