Bride of the Wolf

by Susan Krinard

  Of course he would have considered such things, unless he wished to be executed. She ought to be glad. Perhaps he would succeed, and a villain would be prevented from ever hurting innocent children again.

  But Holden would still be a murderer. He would have surrendered to his most bestial nature. He would never be the same again.

  “I can’t let you do it,” she said.

  “You don’t have no choice about it.”

  “If you attempt anything at the party, I’ll try to stop you.”

  “You ain’t goin’ to the party. You’re stayin’ here with Gordie.”

  “I don’t see how you can enforce such a command.” Rachel felt a new calmness taking hold, a frigid sense of purpose even Holden at his most intimidating couldn’t shake. “And you have not addressed my belief that Sean must expect you to confront him in some way. You are a danger to him in more ways than one as long as this situation remains unresolved. Do you assume he will simply allow you to get him alone? He may be an evil man, but he is no more stupid than you are.”

  “You think he’s settin’ some kind of trap?”

  “If Sean had anything at all to do with inviting you, he must have some purpose for doing so.”

  “If he does, it won’t be your problem, ’cause you won’t be there to see what he has in mind.”

  “I most certainly will be th—”

  With an explosive breath, Holden yanked one of the chairs away from the table and sent it crashing to the floor. “Fool woman,” he growled. “There’s a few more things you’d better understand. The Blackwells may not know what Sean’s been up to, but they ain’t askin’ you to their party just to be friendly. Artemus Blackwell has wanted this place ever since Jed claimed the south side of the creek. Blackwater is one of the biggest outfits in West Texas, but Colonel Blackwell needs the whole creek for the spread to grow as big as he wants it to be. He would already have swallowed this ranch whole if Jed hadn’t made clear he wasn’t acceptin’ Blackwell’s offers and stuck by his guns.”

  “But that has nothing to do with—”

  He slammed his flattened hand on the tabletop. “Listen to me. Sean has always figured he was goin’ to get Dog Creek after Jed was gone. The ranch was goin’ to be his ticket to everythin’ he wanted. He’d sell it to the Blackwells, go in with them and move up while they did. But when you showed up, he knew it might not be near so easy as he thought.”

  Understanding struck Rachel like the iron-shod hoof of a frenzied horse. Sean didn’t merely resent her coming to Dog Creek because she might supersede him in Jedediah’s affections. She had meant a possible—probable—end to his dreams. A wife would jeopardize his claim to the ranch and any other property Jedediah might leave behind.

  But if he had known she was coming and believed she was married, why had he tried to buy her off?

  “A man came to me the evening of my arrival in Javelina,” Rachel said slowly. “He said that Jed had changed his mind and didn’t want me. He offered money if I would go back to Ohio.”

  Holden stared at her, his mouth opening with a startled demand. She told him the rest in flat, brief sentences, and when she was finished, his face had gone pale.

  “Son of a bitch,” he whispered. “Sean told you I did it?”

  “I knew it couldn’t be true soon after I met you, but Sean came back when you were away getting Lucia. He tried again to convince me that you would do anything to be rid of me, perhaps even resort to violence. Even when I realized he must have sent the man to bribe me, I couldn’t make sense of it.”

  Never had she seen a man’s expression change so terribly as Holden’s did then. “I thought he was lyin’,” he said. “About knowin’ you was comin’, when he said Jed had told him and didn’t tell me. But he found out. Damn you, Jed, what the hell were you thinkin’?”

  Somehow Rachel knew Holden’s present fury had not been provoked by Sean’s attempted bribery. There was something else behind it, something so horrible that Holden refused to speak it aloud.

  “What is it?” she whispered, unreasoning terror striking like a scorpion’s stinger.

  Lucia appeared in the hallway just as he began to reply. Her dark gaze darted from Holden and Rachel to the chair that lay sideways on the floor.

  “Perdón,” she said. “I thought I heard a noise. You are well, señora?”

  The smile Rachel gave her was the falsest she had ever bestowed on anyone. “I’m fine, Lucia. Is there anything you need? Is Gordie all right?”

  “Sí, señora.” Lucia hesitated, glanced at Holden and disappeared into the hallway. By the time Rachel had turned back to question Holden again, he had shut himself away behind a rigid mask of steel as honed and deadly as a blade.

  “Sean wants you at that party for reasons of his own,” he said in a voice as flat as the expression in his eyes. “He probably put the women up to it in the first place. He can’t think you figured out it was him who tried to make you leave, or he wouldn’t be sure you’d come. And if he knows you ain’t married, he’s keepin’ it to himself. He sure as hell doesn’t think you know about the whippin’.” He swore again. “He must still believe he has some chance to get on your good side and have a say in what happens to Dog Creek when Jed—” He stopped abruptly, the muscles in his jaw clenching and releasing.

  What Holden said made sense. Sean had already made an attempt to talk her into vouching for him when Jed returned. But he truly must not suspect she was capable of discovering for herself that he might have the best motive for bribing her, or what such an act implied.

  But he was making too many dangerous assumptions. He assumed Rachel would go on believing his lies about Holden, and that she would never listen to Holden’s side of any story. He assumed, though he had spent so little time with her, that she was stupid and blind and incapable of assembling facts in a way contrary to his interests.

  As I was stupid and blind and incapable with Louis.

  She was blind no longer. Whatever Sean’s schemes for her, they were nothing compared to what his malice must be where Holden was concerned.

  “What you say may be true,” she said, “but it does not change my intentions. I will accept the invitation. Gordie will be fine here with Lucia.”

  His gaze met hers, and she was flung back to that first day when she had sensed the full weight and power and danger of his presence. But he didn’t growl or threaten her again. His voice dropped so low that she had to strain to hear it.

  “Don’t do it for my sake, Rachel,” he said. “I ain’t worth it.”

  His pain cut her to the quick. “I…I will decide what is worth—”

  “You don’t know what I am. What I’ve done. I’ve committed crimes. I was a bad man. Worse than you can imagine.”

  It was a measure of how much she had changed that she could imagine the kind of past he had spoken of and feel not appalled and disgusted, but deeply sad.

  “It doesn’t matter what you’ve been,” she said. “Only what you choose to do from now on.”

  “I ain’t changin’ my mind, not even for you. And even if I wasn’t goin’ to do it, you’d feel—”

  “You always assume you know what I feel.”

  But he wasn’t listening. “I’ve got some money,” he said, beginning to pace again. “I’ll give it to you so you can get away from here.”

  She was stunned by his sudden reversal. Only a few minutes ago he’d demanded she stay with Gordie while he went to find Sean at the party.

  He wants to keep you safe, a part of her said. But why would he think she would leave simply because he offered her money? Did he think lack of means and fear of an uncertain future were the only things keeping her here?

  Of course he didn’t. But if he wanted to send her away for her own safety, why wouldn’t he send Gordie, as well? Because Gordie couldn’t interfere in his plans for vengeance?

  “If I go,” she said coldly, “I will take Gordie with me. He will need someone if you fail to return.”


  Chapter Fifteen

  HEATH TURNED AWAY, went to the door and opened it, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed and shoulders hunched. “I don’t plan on gettin’ killed,” he said.

  “Then don’t insult me again by suggesting I would run away now.”

  Her words had a funny way of hurting even when he didn’t think he had anything left inside him to hurt. He would have given ten years of his life if he could want to be rid of her. Forget how he’d felt after he’d pleasured her by the creek, the longing and need he’d tried so hard to kill.

  If he let himself stay a coward and didn’t drive Rachel away, it would be a hundred times worse when it was all over and she found out everything. Everything he’d lied to her about. What she was going to lose, even though she would have wealth and kinfolk and a chance to start over.

  Maybe she really would try to take Gordie with her if she knew about the letter from Ohio.

  He’s where he belongs. He’d told Rachel that only yesterday morning, as though he’d been planning to let her keep him. What if he finally told her that Gordie was his son?

  Sure, then try to convince her anything would be better than letting him decide what was best for the boy. She would ask questions he couldn’t answer, questions she’d already tried to ask before.

  But if she stayed, she might get into serious trouble trying to interfere. She was right about a lot of things. Sean hadn’t made Amy Blackwell invite him to the party without good reason. He would be on his guard. He couldn’t just show up, drag Sean away and kill him. He didn’t know yet what he was going to do or how he was going to do it, though right now it looked as if Sean was handing him the perfect chance with the wolf hunt he’d arranged to follow the party.

  But what else was Sean planning? A few weeks ago, Heath wouldn’t have believed Sean capable of doing anything that might seriously risk the reputation he was so eager to make, let alone whip a kid half to death. A few minutes ago he’d realized that Sean might be worse than just crazy. He might be a murderer.

  Heath closed his eyes, listening to the rumble of Maurice’s voice in the bunkhouse as he spoke with Charlie, Apache moving around in the stable, and the quarreling of chickens foraging in the yard. He’d figured early on that Sean considered Rachel a threat to his ambitions just because she existed. Now he realized Sean had known Rachel was coming, and the son of a bitch had probably known a lot more than that. Jed must have told Sean at least some of his intentions. There wasn’t any other explanation that Heath could see.

  He could believe that Jed might have made the mistake of letting Sean know that his bride was on her way. But if he’d taken it one step further, told Sean he was planning to disinherit him, told him about the wills…

  Sean was malicious enough to kill Jed and then try to make sure there would never be anyone else who could claim Dog Creek. But would he go that far, knowing that if one thing went wrong he could be hanged as a murderer? Would he have the guts for it? Whipping a kid wasn’t the same as attacking a grown man who could defend himself, a better rider and marksman than Sean could hope to be in a hundred lifetimes.

  Maybe it had been an accident. They could have met up when Jed was on his way back and fallen to arguing. Maybe Jed’s horse had spooked and thrown him, just as Heath had thought. If Jed’s death was deliberate, why hadn’t Sean taken the saddlebags?

  Because Jed hid ’em when he saw Sean comin’. Or he knew Sean was comin’ ahead of time.

  Rachel’s touch on his shoulder nearly made him jump out of his skin. She dropped her hand right away, but Heath felt as if she’d given him a hard shake.

  “I don’t believe our discussion is over,” she said, stepping back out of his reach.

  She’s waitin’ for me to yell or threaten her again, Heath thought, but that wasn’t enough to stop her from poking at him like a bear cub with a beehive. Why couldn’t she have been a different kind of woman…a woman he could have ignored, despised, betrayed without giving a damn? Why did she have to keep looking at him that way, angry and determined and sad and caring all at the same time? What made him think he could make her go or do anything she didn’t want to do?

  He’d thought about leaving with the baby right after he’d found out about the bounty hunter. He’d decided against it because back then he’d figured Rachel wouldn’t leave Dog Creek after he was gone, and Sean would make her life miserable. But she wasn’t planning to marry Jed now, and she had somewhere to go. If he left tonight and made sure she got the letter…

  Sean would get away with everything. Joey would still be missing. And Rachel would go on suffering, because she would have lost what she cared most about. What he was taking away from her. Gordie.

  There wasn’t any answer that would make things right. No matter what Heath decided, Sean had to die for what he’d done. Rachel would be hurt. And he would have to raise Gordie up alone and keep on running from the law.

  Unless, like Rachel had said, he didn’t come back from the fight, and Gordie was left an orphan at the mercy of humans who would revile him—or worse.

  Swear to me that Gordie will always have a good home. And he’d sworn.

  He looked at Rachel, who was still waiting, her dark eyes scared but defiant. You always assume you know what I feel, she’d said. She was right. Maybe he couldn’t really know what she would feel if she learned the truth about what he was. Was it a sign of desperation that he had started wondering again whether she was the one woman out of a hundred, out of a thousand, who could really understand and accept him? That he wanted her to be that woman more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life?

  A shudder of dread and pure, shameful fear ran through him. He could test her about some things, like whether or not she could understand why he’d kept Jed’s death a secret, and if she could really care about the kind of man he’d been. But the only way he could ever find out the rest was to show her. And once he did that, there would be no going back.

  “You’re a good woman, Rachel Lyndon,” he said, hating himself but knowing he had to tell her what was in his heart one time before he left her. “If I weren’t the man I am…if things were different, I would ask you—” He released a shuddering breath. “I would take you ’n Gordie away and ask you to marry me.”

  Her eyes went wide, and for just a moment she smiled—that open, radiant smile he’d seen only twice before. He saw again in her face that feeling he’d seen by the creek when she’d offered herself to him, warmth and hope and affection brimming so full that she could give it to Gordie and still have enough left for him. She was waiting again, waiting for him to tell her that he would ask her, no matter what kind of man he was.

  But he didn’t say it. Her smile faded like the rose Heath had seen once in a vase on a crooked table in Frankie’s room at the bordello.

  “Thank you, Mr. Renshaw, for the sentiment,” she said at last. “It is an honor to be considered for such a position, even if you feel yourself incapable of engaging in such a binding relationship. I assure you that I have taken your words in the manner they were intended.”

  Heath wished he could slit his own throat. “Rachel, I—”

  But she was already walking away.

  MARRY ME.

  How strange that for one blissful moment Rachel had believed Heath had meant it.

  She closed the door to the bedroom carefully. Gordie was awake, moving restlessly in his cradle, but Lucia had fallen asleep on Rachel’s bed, clearly too weary to remain awake even after what she had overheard in the parlor.

  I’m sorry, Lucia, Rachel thought. You should not have had to listen to any of that.

  Thank God she hadn’t heard the “proposal.”

  Rachel knelt on the floor beside the cradle. I’d take you and Gordie away. How long had Heath been thinking such things? Since they had lain together beside the creek? Or had it been an impulse of the moment, an impulse he knew he would never have to fulfill?

  If I weren’t the man I am. Hurt by his childho
od, bitter, angry, hardened against the world. A “bad man.”

  Rachel pulled the pins out of her hair and lowered her head over the cradle. Gordie caught at the long loose strands with delight. It didn’t matter what she thought. Holden was going through with his plan, such as it was, and she could think of no way to stop him. He seemed so confident that he would succeed, even as he apologized—to her—for what he was.

  I ain’t plannin’ on gettin’ killed, he’d said. And yet he was still afraid. Afraid enough that he could see nothing but emptiness ahead. When she’d threatened to take Gordie, he hadn’t said no.

  Perhaps he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Would he try to stop her if she left with Gordie before the party? Once, she had told Holden that she would find a way to care for the baby if Jed turned him off, but only yesterday she had set all such thoughts aside because she couldn’t give him the life he deserved.

  Could she leave Holden to destroy himself?

  She lifted Gordie out of the cradle and held him close. She had insisted she would accompany Holden to the party, but she wasn’t sure she could bear to remain here that long.

  Ten days. That was how long she had to decide.

  Slowly she set Gordie down again and walked into the kitchen. Holden’s gun was still in the cupboard where she had hidden it. She picked it up gingerly, stretching her fingers to fit around the smooth wooden grip.

  Tomorrow she would ask Maurice to show her how to use it. She would tell him she was still worried about the outlaws Holden had warned her about.

  The next week would be the longest of her life.

  “IT’S TRUE,” CHARLIE SAID. “Mrs. McCarrick and Mr. Renshaw are betrayin’ Jed.”

  Joey squeezed his eyelids tight together, holding the shameful tears at bay. His belly was flapping against his ribs, he was dirty and sore and his back still hurt, but this was the worst of everything that had happened to him since he’d run away.

  After nine days of surviving as best he could, he had decided to come home. It would be a sore humiliation, admitting to Holden that he’d tried to rustle Blackwater cattle and been caught by Sean all over again, worse still explaining how he’d turned yellow and told Sean about the money.