Cherished

by Jill Gregory

  “But you still look like something’s gnawing at you, little sister.” Gently, Wade tugged one gold curl. “What’s wrong?”

  Juliana gazed up into her eldest brother’s face. She bit her lip. “I understand how it all got started, Wade. I also understand why you felt you couldn’t drag me into all of it or even keep much in contact with me. I don’t like it, but I understand. But whatever your reasons, it’s still stealing, Wade. No matter how you explain it, it doesn’t change that fact. It’s still wrong.”

  Wade stared at her a long time. The other members of the gang did not meet her eyes. Then Tommy sat up, drawing his long legs before him, and spoke, his voice low.

  “We know that, peanut. Sort of. I guess you could say that deep inside we know it’s wrong, but ... we help people ... and ourselves. The only ones who get hurt are the men growing rich from rustling, or land schemes or cheating—stealing in other ways, just not outright holdups.”

  “And lots of ‘em do worse things than we ever do,” Yancy added in a somber tone.

  “But we’ve been planning on quitting—all of us,” Tommy assured her earnestly. “It’s time. Matter of fact, we were having a look-see around by Cooper Creek to find us a neat little spread where we could start raising horses—or maybe cattle—when Keedy found us and told us you were in trouble.”

  “Which brings us up to the present,” Wade finished for him, placing a hand over Juliana’s as it rested on the faded cushion of the old sofa. “A friend—actually a fellow we pay handsomely to let us know when someone’s asking questions about us—told us that some hombre named Gil Keedy was hot on our trail. He wasn’t a known bounty hunter, and he didn’t look like any Pinkerton detective we ever saw—so we arranged a little meeting with him. And,” he finished, flashing Gil his calm, steady smile, “that’s how we first heard about this marriage with John Breen that Aunt Katharine and Uncle Edward were forcing you into.”

  “Yeah,” Tommy broke in, jumping up to squeeze beside Juliana on the sofa, “so we started toward Colorado and we’d only gone halfway across Arizona when we heard that there was a bounty on your head—two thousand dollars.” He whistled through his teeth. “That’s a whole lot more than anyone ever paid to find us. So what’d you do, peanut, rob the First National Bank of Denver?”

  “All I took was John Breen’s horse and his pride, I suppose. I ran away from Denver the night before our wedding.”

  Wade chuckled appreciatively, Yancy and Skunk and Gil laughed aloud, but Tommy lifted her in the air and whirled her about yet again. “I’m damned if this sister of ours isn’t the pluckiest filly I ever did meet—along with Josie,” he amended quickly. “But,” he told her, setting her down gently on the floor, “it’s your turn now. We’ve been searching high and low for you ever since we heard about the bounty, but we couldn’t find any trace. Not until Keedy heard some word about you a few days ago in Plattsville. McCray’s men are searching for you—and us—like crazy, but we figured Gray Feather could find you before they did.”

  Then it was Juliana’s turn to relate her own experiences since she had left Twin Oaks. When she reached the part where Cash Hogan and his companions had grabbed her in Cedar Gulch, only to be shot by Cole Rawdon, Tommy interrupted her.

  “Rawdon! He’s more dangerous than any of ‘em. We heard he brought you in to the sheriff in Plattsville. Was that true? How’d you manage to break away?”

  And here Juliana froze. The entire room blurred. The plain shuttered windows, the rag rug on the floor, the still-warm stove, the men all leaning forward eagerly waiting for her to continue, all of it swam before her eyes. Even the flies buzzing through the air seemed strange, unreal, moving in slow motion. The sharp, sweet tangy scent of elderberry wine and Yancy’s pipe tobacco became forever engraved together in her brain.

  Rawdon.

  Her gaze flew to the window. Darkness. The sun had set long ago.

  What had she done? What in the name of heaven had she been thinking of?

  Stupid, idiotic ... she cursed herself even as she jumped up from the sofa. How she had managed to forget all about Cole, all about the cabin where he would be returning by sunset, expecting to find her, she didn’t know. Her hands turned ice cold. She started to shake. Yes, she had been overjoyed to see Wade and Tommy, and yes, there had been much to tell and learn, but how on earth could she have forgotten about Cole?

  He had made her promise she would stay in the cabin. So that she would be safe. But she had broken her promise, and Gray Feather had carried her off, and ...

  And Cole would surely think her dead—or nearly so, for the obvious conclusion he would draw when he returned and found the cabin empty would be that Knife Jackson and his companions had found her.

  She had to go back. Dear Lord, she had to go back.

  But she didn’t even know if he would be there. He could be looking for her; he could run smack into Knife and the others while trying to find her. And they would kill him. Deep down in her heart she knew that if they caught him again, they would kill him. She had the most horrible feeling that he might already be dead.

  A faintness came over her. She fought it back, her face white as parchment. She darted from the cabin before any of the men realized what she was doing, running out into the midnight-blue darkness in blind panic.

  “Juliana, what the hell has got into you? Where do you think you’re going?” Wade pounded after her and grabbed her arm as she peered frantically about in the starlit darkness.

  “I need a horse. And a guide. Gray Feather ...”

  “You’re not going anywhere. Are you loco?” Tommy tried to catch her as she yanked her arm free of Wade’s grip and started to move away from them both.

  “Oh, no, you don’t! You’ll kill yourself here in the dark.” He caught up with her and was starting to pull her toward him when a shot rang out, knocking his hat off his head.

  “Let her go.”

  The deadly threat in the voice that rang like cold steel through the night made the hairs on Juliana’s neck stand on end. But she recognized that voice, and a sudden rush of exhilaration and relief flooded through her.

  “Cole! Cole, I’m all right,” she gasped. “Don’t shoot!” She hurled herself like a shield in front of her brothers. “It’s Wade and Tommy!”

  There was a tiny sound of brush rustling somewhere on Stick Mountain, and then a shadow emerged from the deeper shadows of the rocks, a shadow that detached itself from its cover and moved toward them. Faintly lit as the night was by the glow of a thousand burning stars, Juliana recognized Cole’s tall, muscular frame, the shape of his hat, the strong, tense line of his jaw as he stopped in front of her.

  “Thank God!” she cried on a little sob of happiness, and threw herself into his arms. But the next moment she gasped as he gripped her shoulders hard and held her at arm’s length away from him.

  “So you’re safe, after all.”

  His voice was odd. Cold. Hard. The way it used to sound when she first met him, when he always thought the worst of her.

  “Cole, I’m truly sorry. I forgot all about everything else—we were celebrating—isn’t it wonderful? Wade and Tommy found me—at least, Gray Feather did, and there was so much to talk about. You must come inside and have some wine and let me introduce you ...”

  Her voice faded away. She was beginning to be able to discern his face in the darkness now and what she saw frightened her. His expression was as deadly and formidable as when he had faced down Cash Hogan, Luke, and Bo. The glitter in his eyes turned her blood to ice, and she felt her knees trembling as his harsh gaze swept over her with no visible sign of emotion, then shifted to study Wade and Tommy, just behind her, fixing each of them in turn with that hardened detachment.

  “Take your hands off my sister.” Turning, she saw that Wade had his gun drawn. So did Tommy. In the ivory-frosted darkness that shrouded the trees, tipping everything with an eerie faint silver light she realized that Yancy, Gray Feather, Skunk, and Gil were all fanned
out in a semicircle, their guns drawn and pointed at Cole.

  “Back away from her, Rawdon.” She scarcely recognized Tommy’s voice. Her handsome, roguish brother sounded every bit as hard and dangerous as Wade, even as Cole Rawdon himself.

  “And then throw your guns down nice and easy,” Wade added crisply as he stepped forward and with one hand jerked Juliana back, out of Rawdon’s grasp.

  Cole let her go, his lips curled in a snarl. He never shifted a muscle.

  “Wade, Tommy, no!” She shook herself free, turning to them with her arms spread in a gesture of appeal. In the seafoam-green gown, with starlight shimmering on her pale hair, she did look like an angel, or a mermaid swept from the depths of the sea, a delicate figure of unearthly beauty, whose lovely face was marred only by an expression of distress. “Put your guns away! Cole isn’t here to harm me. He’s been helping me. He saved me from Line McCray’s men in Plattsville. In fact he’s saved my life more times than I can count. Put your guns away, damn you. Now.”

  And then she flung herself in front of Cole as a slender, lovely shield against all the men lined up against him. “Do as I say, or I’ll leave with him this minute and never come back.”

  “Juliana, whatever he’s told you or done for you—or made you think he’s done for you, it’s a trick.” Wade spoke quickly, never removing his alert gaze from his adversary’s face. “Rawdon’s a bounty hunter. He’s only after the reward—the one on your head and on ours.”

  “Go inside and let us deal with him.” His voice flat and cold, Tommy sounded nothing like himself. “He’s lied to you, Juliana—that’s plain. We’ll sort it out later, but first, for Pete’s sake, get in the cabin and leave him to us.”

  “So that you can all kill each other? I don’t think I will.”

  Staring angrily at her brothers and the men behind them, and then spinning about to see Cole’s hard face in the darkness behind her, she felt the bubble of wrath inside her explode. “Men! You’re all alike! You think violence is the answer to everything, don’t you? Well, the men who killed Mama and Papa and left them lying in their own blood thought that way too. And look where it left us! Maybe none of us would be on this godforsaken mountain right now, Wade, if it hadn’t been for that. Maybe we’d all still be back home in Independence, eating Sunday dinner with Mama and Papa. I’ve been running away from violence ever since. But I’ve seen enough of it in the past few months to last me a lifetime. I’m sick of it, do you hear me? Sick to death of shootings and beatings and threats.”

  Her voice broke, and as he listened to her a shock ran down Cole’s spine. So that was what had spooked her, made her faint at the sight of a dead man, made her wish to avoid even killing a damned bear. Her parents, like his, had been murdered. It was a grim fact they had in common. Poor kid. He suddenly felt some of the red-hot fury seeping out of him. Something ached between his temples. Pity. Or maybe just tension, raw and ugly. He’d been loco ever since he’d come back to the cabin and found her gone. He’d assumed that Knife had her, and the panic that had roared through him, ripping at his heart and guts, had been worse than anything anyone had ever done to him. Driven by a flailing desperation, he’d searched for her for hours, until down by the stream he’d finally found that damned comb she’d wound into her hair this morning. He’d felt like someone was tearing his insides out then. The tracks had been almost impossible to follow, and he’d lost the trail twice, but he’d hooked onto it at last. To find her here, safe with her brothers, pretty as a seashell in this fancy dress, not even thinking twice about him—or what he had suffered when she disappeared. Cole felt a gut-wrenching pain. No longer from anxiety or fear for her safety. Something else. Something he couldn’t define. All he knew was that she didn’t need him anymore. She had quickly forgotten him—as soon as she found these brothers of hers. It hurt more than he cared to think about. But he wasn’t going to cause a bloodbath over it. Even though it seemed those brothers of hers would like nothing better than to blow his head off.

  Juliana, he was about to say. Settle down. I’ll have a few necessary words with your brothers, clear a few things up—and then go on my way.

  But she rushed on, never giving him the chance.

  “Throw down your guns, every single one of you,” she ordered, her breath coming quickly in the cool night air. “And do it right now. Because if any one of you gets shot or hurt—I’ll ... I’ll ... I’ll jump right off this mountain, I swear I will!”

  As if to illustrate her words, she took a step into the perilous darkness toward the uncertain ledges beyond, but Cole’s strong arms reached out and seized her around the waist. “I already pulled you back from one precipice, angel. Don’t tempt fate by dangling yourself over another.”

  She was stunned to hear that the harsh edge was gone from his voice; it was lighter, amused almost, and his arms around her waist were tight and reassuring.

  “Wildcat,” he whispered in her ear, and then said to Wade, “maybe we should call a truce until we can straighten a few things out. It strikes me that we might be on the same side on this one.”

  “I don’t trust him, Wade,” Tommy blurted out.

  “Tommy!” Juliana cried in exasperation, but her eldest brother interrupted.

  “Our little sister is no fool, Tommy. We’ll give Rawdon a chance.” He slipped his gun back into its holster. “Everybody inside. We’re going to talk.”

  Cole held on to her as the others edged cautiously toward the cabin. “Tell me one thing. They found the cabin?” He had thought it safe, virtually undetectable to anyone not raised on Fire Mesa. Her answer confirmed what he had suspected.

  “N-no. I went down to the stream for a bath.”

  Slate-blue eyes pierced her with a look that chilled her heart. “I see.”

  “Cole ...”

  “So much for promises.”

  He released her, stepped past her as though she were nothing but a tree or a rock, and went inside the Montgomery gang’s cabin.

  21

  Two hours later Wade Montgomery glanced somberly at the blue-eyed bounty hunter leaning against the pine table and said, “Rawdon, it appears that my brother and I owe you one big apology.”

  He thought: The poor bastard hasn’t taken his eyes off Juliana for more than an instant. He’s in love with her. Strange that he should see that right off, Wade thought. But then he was unusually perceptive about people, tending to see what went on beneath the facade they put up every day, sensing their secrets, their lies, piercing right through the outward layer of civility to the real core beneath. When it came to Rawdon, though, he was stunned by what he saw. It had never occurred to him, during all the years he’d heard of the infamous Cole Rawdon, that when he finally met the most dreaded bounty hunter in the southwest territories, he’d see not a cold, relentless hunter (although from outward appearances, Rawdon was indeed that) but a strong man wrestling in the throes of love. Never having been in love, Wade thought such a fate nearly as fatal as dying, but he quickly reminded himself it was Juliana whom Rawdon loved, and that made him one lucky hombre—if she returned his feelings. Wade reckoned, from the way she’d rushed to his defense earlier, and in the way her eyes lit up whenever he said something—hell, whenever the fellow drew a breath—that she did. If Juliana wanted him, he decided with typical Montgomery determination, she would have him, even if Rawdon had to be tied up and lassoed like a bawling calf till she got him to the altar. Somehow or other, Wade didn’t think it would come to that. With Juliana looking so damned beautiful she might have stepped right out of heaven’s gate, he couldn’t imagine Rawdon resisting her for long—so long as Tommy kept his mouth shut and stayed out of it.

  Juliana, when she heard her brother’s words, let out a sigh of relief.

  Peace. Maybe there would be peace between Cole, Wade, and Tommy yet. The expression on Cole’s face wasn’t exactly warm and friendly, but it wasn’t nearly as coldly unnerving, as implacably set as it had been when he’d first appeared outside the cab
in.

  Not that she could blame him for being furious. Her heart trembled when she thought of her own role in what had happened today. It was her own fault, for she sensed that it was concern for her that had made him so fiercely angry. He must have been very, very worried. Out of his mind, almost. Maybe old superstitions didn’t always hold true after all, she told herself with a flicker of hope. He loves me not. What did an old daisy know?

  She found herself smiling a little to herself, and just at that moment Cole’s gaze touched hers. He seemed to be taking in everything: her softly pinned curls falling artlessly around her shoulders, the gown that emphasized her long neck and hugged her curves. His eyes narrowed, and it seemed to her that their expression, deep within those blazing depths, became suddenly more intense, yet he allowed nothing more to show in his face. Still, she had come to realize that he was a master at concealing his emotions. Like a gambler, he played his hand close. Maybe he felt more toward her than she’d thought, maybe even more than he would admit to himself. Hadn’t he come to her rescue time and again? Hadn’t he found her even tonight despite Gray Feather’s skill at covering his tracks? She thought of the scar on his face. He’d endured that, and a beating, and had still come for her in Plattsville. He’d fought and killed to get her out of that jail. He’d come back to Fire Mesa, with all its gruesome memories, to bring her to a place where she would be safe.