by Linda Broday
Though she didn’t know her own name, where she came from or who her family was, she didn’t want to die. From what those men had said and the throbbing pain in her skull, she’d come close.
“Did any of what we learned from those two rifle peddlers jog your memory?” Luke prodded.
“No. I wish they could’ve told me who my father is.” Rose met his eyes, wondering how an outlaw and killer could be so kind. “They said my father wasn’t going to be too happy for what Reno did to me. Was he in cahoots with them? They seemed to know him.” Her stomach roiled and she thought she might retch again.
“Look, don’t read too much into what they said. Men like that lie at the drop of a hat.”
Warmth spread through her. He was only trying to spare her feelings, but she appreciated that. Most men probably wouldn’t give her state of mind a thought.
Rose gave him a wry smile. “At least I know I’m not an orphan.” But would a father like hers be a step up? Something told her it wouldn’t.
“That’s the spirit.” Luke winked. “Hang with me and I’ll get your answers, but right now it’s too dangerous to stay here. Do you want to lie in back or ride up with me?”
“I’ll ride on the seat.” Where she could see trouble coming.
With a last look at the only place on earth she knew, Rose let him help her into the wagon box. After tying his horse to the back, he removed his black duster and stowed it under the seat then took his place next to her. Propping his foot on the wood in front in a careless pose, he set the horses in motion.
She cast a sidelong glance at this man who’d saved her. He had a rugged profile that seemed to have been carved over time by the wind, sun, and weather, with raven-black hair and green eyes that could harden to silver. He’d killed his first man so young. He should scare her, but she felt just the opposite. Luke could’ve easily given her over to the two jackasses back there. Instead, he seemed willing to risk his life for a stranger, and that was something she’d never expected.
Though she couldn’t say with certainty, she imagined few people had ever stuck up for her before. Her throat tightened. “Luke, do you think I’ll ever know my name or where I belong?” She bit her quivering lip to still it.
“We have to have hope. If we don’t have that, we have nothing.”
His reply hinted at something bad he was trying to fix.
They stopped at a narrow spring and refilled the canteen. Luke plucked some leaves from a plant growing next to the water and handed them to her. “Chew on these mint leaves to get the bad taste out of your mouth. Plus, it’ll ease your stomach.”
His thoughtfulness caught her by surprise. Even when it didn’t look like it, he was thinking of her. She chewed on the leaves, enjoying the fresh feel they gave her mouth, and watched him care for the horses. This man who could probably kill with ease had a soft spot in his heart. Soon they got on the road again, the sway of the wagon soothing as they rocked along. Luke put some mint leaves into his mouth and chewed.
“Were you going anywhere important when you found me?” she asked.
He was silent a moment before finally saying, “It’ll keep.”
Something in his quiet tone told her that she’d cost him a great deal, but at least he didn’t seem to be holding it against her.
“I don’t know who you are, Rose, and I’m no expert, but I can say one thing. You didn’t learn to cuss like that in church.” Luke stared straight ahead with a somber face. A slow grin formed and she was struck by his handsome features.
Suddenly, the day seemed a little brighter. Rose pushed back her hair. “The words just slipped out so easy without me even thinking.” She made a face. “I must have a terrible temper.”
“I’d say so. You scared five years off those two lowlifes.”
“What kind of person do you suppose I am? If you could take a stab?”
Luke swiveled to face her. His pale-green eyes seemed to stare deep into her soul. “With your temperament and rough language, you could be a mule skinner. Only I’ve never seen one as pretty as you. Or maybe you’re a lumberjack. Except you’re a long way from any trees.” He paused, his grin fading. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make light of your predicament.”
“It’s okay, Luke. Getting all down in the mouth only makes me feel worse. I appreciate your efforts to make me laugh.”
“It takes a strong woman to face your situation.”
Rose shrugged. “I don’t have much choice. With a father who’s apparently a crook and an outlaw, I just wonder what else the rotten bastard taught me?” She released a string of blistering cuss words, hating to think of what she had become. She probably wouldn’t like that person very much.
“Can you try to curb the profanity just a bit? I can’t get used to such words coming from someone who looks like an angel.”
His quiet compliment made her heart skip a beat. For him, and those eyes that could melt the layers of ice inside, she’d do most anything.
She sat up straighter. “Where are we going?”
“Normally I’d ask where you want to go, but since you haven’t a clue, I’m heading toward the Lone Star Ranch.”
“Why go there?”
“Nearest doctor. I know the owner. Good man. Stoker Legend will take you in. And besides, these horses carry their brand and I need to return them.”
Rose raised her chin a trifle. “I don’t need a sawbones.”
That ranch would only mean more people she didn’t know. What would happen to her if she couldn’t ever find a familiar place again? Find someone at least she recognized? Her chin quivered. Even if it was a bad person, it would be better than no one at all.
Luke took her hand and his voice was gentle. “The only way to find answers to your questions is to go to someone who knows. A doctor can tell you about your condition. And I’ll get on the trail of finding out the truth of what happened at Doan’s Crossing. I’ll help put you back together.”
“Why would you do that for someone you’ve never met before?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do. I’d want someone to do that for me.” He turned her hand over and studied her palm.
For a man who killed people, he had a gentle touch. Heat spread through her as though she stood too close to a smithy’s forge. “What are you looking at?”
Eyes the color of spring pasture land lifted and the intensity she saw in his gaze made her fidget. “I once knew an old woman in New Orleans who seemed to tell a good many things by the lines of a palm.”
“Like what?”
“How long you’ll live, how passionate you are—stuff like that. Of course, I didn’t buy into it, but lots do.”
“Can you tell if I have a husband, a mother, children?” Her voice broke with longing.
Luke suddenly tensed, dropped her hand, and stared into the distance with narrowed eyes.
“What did you see?” she asked.
“Movement ahead.”
“No, on my palm.” She knew he’d seen something. “Tell me.”
“It’s riders,” he insisted. “Move closer and try to hide the damage on your skirt as best you can.”
He shifted, putting his reloaded Colt within easy reach and striking a lazy pose with his hat tugged low. He was ready to shoot his way out if needed.
Pulling his duster from under the seat, he told her to drape it around her. She covered her bloody skirt then pressed against his side and slipped her arm through his. She wasn’t going to let them take the only friend she had.
No matter what she had to do. Nor could she let him kill on this fine day.
Minutes later, lawmen surrounded the wagon and forced them to stop.
“Morning, gentlemen,” Luke drawled. “Mind getting out of our way?”
“We’re looking for a woman.” The speaker was an old sheriff with a crooked nose that ha
d been broken countless times.
“The only one I’ve seen is—”
“Me. His wife,” Rose interrupted. She gazed with what she hoped was adoration up at Luke. “Don’t be shy saying it, sweetheart. But it’s still sort of new, I reckon.” She cupped his jaw and turned to the riders. “You see, we were married two weeks ago and we’re on our honeymoon. My darling sugarplum promised to take me to Fort Worth.”
She pressed her lips to his in a long, searing kiss. He didn’t respond for a moment, then shock and thrilling tingles rippled over her as he kissed her back. And when she parted her mouth, he slipped his tongue inside as bold as you please. His hand curled just under her breast and sent waves of aching hunger through her.
“Ahem,” one of the lawmen said. “We need a word, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, dear sir, but we do mind,” she murmured against Luke’s mouth. “Very strenuously.”
“Damn, woman,” Luke whispered. “Aren’t you overdoing it?”
“Me?” she argued low. “What was the tongue for?”
“Added effect.” His eyes held a devilish gleam.
“Sorry, ma’am,” another of the posse tried. “Please give us a quick word and we’ll be on our way.”
With his arm around her, Luke raised his head. “My wife Rose is very…passionate. Why are you looking for this other woman?”
“She murdered her husband last night, mister.”
Rose gasped, reeling from the shock. And the fact that they stared right at her. “My heavens, how horrible. Did she shoot him?”
“Oh no, ma’am, nothing that tame,” said the lawman with the mole. “She gutted him.”
“Where did this take place?” Luke asked, nuzzling Rose’s neck.
“Doan’s Crossing.”
Rose stiffened in panic.
“Careful,” Luke whispered. “Just a little longer.”
“Do you know her name, by chance?” Rose asked quietly.
“Josie. Josie Morgan,” the man answered. “From the description, she’s the spitting image of you, ma’am.”
She shivered even as Luke’s arm tightened around her. Could she have done something like that? Was she a murderess? Oh, dear God, she’d rather be a mule skinner. Please let her have been that—or a lumberjack.
“If we happen to spot her, we’ll report it to the first lawman we run across,” Luke promised. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have somewhere to be and my wife, bless her sweet soul, is a very impatient woman.” He winked at the posse. “You fellows remember what it was like to be newly married, don’t you?”
A murmur of agreement came from the nearest rider.
Rose glanced down and her heart pounded to see the duster had slipped, exposing a big portion of her bloody skirt. Slowly, so as not to draw the lawmen’s gaze, she tried to tug the shield back into place.
“Say, don’t I know you, mister?” One of the lawmen in the back, a younger man, moved forward, staring at Luke. “What’s your name?”
Rose held her breath as Luke’s hand inched slowly down toward his Colt. Desperate to draw the riders’ attention, she loosened the top buttons of her dress and moved the fabric aside. “My goodness, it’s so hot today!” She touched her cheek with a fingertip and drew it painstakingly down the long column of her throat, past her collarbone until it disappeared into her cleavage.
The young lawman’s Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed hard.
“Name’s Jones,” Luke drawled. “I come from Tascosa in the panhandle. A wild, wooly place, but it’s where I met my beautiful Rose and tied the knot.”
“I never thought I’d ever find such a handsome man to give me a second look. I’m truly happy,” Rose added hastily. “Ours is a match made in heaven.”
“I must be mistaken.” The young man turned aside, mumbling to himself.
The hawk-nosed marshal leaned over. “There’s a lot of blood on your dress, ma’am. What happened?”
Panic raced through Rose. She could feel color drain from her face. “Blood? Oh, good heavens, no!” She forced a giggle. “This is nothing but red mud. My mama always complained about the North Texas red dirt and was never able to get it to wash out of anything.”
The sudden lifting of the marshal’s white brow in apparent skepticism must’ve been what prompted Luke to quietly add, “My wife likes to make love in the…uh, creek. It’s really embarrassing to talk about.”
Of all the stories he could’ve made up and that was the best he could find? Rose was mortified. She couldn’t have gotten the blood from a deer they’d killed. Oh no. It had to be from making love in the mud. And blame her for it, no less.
She patted his vest. “Sweetheart, these men don’t have time to be gossiping like that! They simply have to find that Morgan woman before she kills again.”
Several of the men shook their heads, chuckling, but one had leaned forward to get a better view.
“Sorry to have held you up.” The old sheriff touched the brim of his hat and the group galloped off, kicking up a cloud of dust around the wagon.
Luke jiggled the reins and the team began to move. “What the hell was that back there?”
Her spine stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Attacking me like that.”
“Wait one minute. If I recall, you didn’t appear to object.” The nerve of him to play the innocent!
“You enjoyed every second of that,” Luke accused.
Maybe a little too much, but she wasn’t going to let him know. His body’s definite response said he had too.
“And you didn’t?”
Luke glanced back to check on the lawmen. “How did you even think to do that? Where did that performance come from?”
“I don’t know. I noticed a spark of recognition in that young one’s eyes and I knew I had to save you. He was a step away from arresting you.” Rose scooted back to her original position. She thought he’d at least be grateful for her efforts.
“Don’t ever try to save me again.” Luke’s voice held a sharp edge. “I’ll only get you hurt—or dig you a grave.”
His words slapped her. “Well, pardon me. Next time you can save your own damn hide, mister.” Yet she’d seen his hand move for his gun; she knew how close he’d come to killing those lawmen. How could she have stood watching him hang, seeing the life drain from his body?
The brittle silence stretched her nerves. Too late, she hated her angry words and wished she could take them back.
“I deserved that,” Luke finally said in a quiet tone. “I’m an ungrateful bastard.”
“No, it was me, Luke.” At last, Rose unknotted her twisted stomach. “I really did kill my husband. I wasn’t that serious before when I wondered if I had.” She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. “But I really did. They said so. And nothing pretty like a gunshot—I gutted him. Oh God!”
“We don’t know you did any such thing,” Luke said firmly. “You could’ve gotten that blood on you any number of ways.”
Except those two gun runners had said that she’d gotten it from the dead man who may or may not have been her husband. But she wasn’t going to remind him of that.
“Yes, maybe I slaughtered a deer.” She brightened. “I’m not Josie Morgan. I can’t be. I’m Rose. Thank you for marrying me—for making me your wife.”
Luke jerked around. “Hey, you know that was only pretense, right?”
“Oh, sure.” She raised innocent eyes to his. “It meant nothing.” Nothing at all. Only she wanted it to with all her heart.
With one fingertip, Luke pushed back his hat to study her. “Scratch my previous suggestions about what you did before. With the way you handled those lawmen, you’re a born actress.”
“You think so?”
“Several times you had me almost believing we were newlyweds. You can
sure kiss, lady. And when you unbuttoned the top of your dress and teased those men…they forgot all about who we were. A lady of the evening couldn’t have done any better.”
“Yeah. I wonder if that means I really am one?”
“Nope. You didn’t charge.”
Rose giggled and watched his mouth curve in a slow grin, revealing rows of white teeth. She sighed and imagined being married to him for real. Kissing him whenever she felt like it. Sleeping in his arms. Making love until dawn.
But for now, they were both outlaws and on the run.
Both killers?
Her fate appeared tied to his.
When, if ever, her memory returned, what else would she discover about herself?
Four
Five miles down the road, Luke pulled up next to a little spring. Underground water sprang from the rocks, providing cold, sweet refreshment.
“We’ll leave the wagon and go on horseback from here, make faster time.” He placed his hands around Rose’s waist and lowered her to the ground. “In case that posse backtracks.”
“Do they lynch women?” Rose’s changeable eyes filled with unshed tears. “I can’t get hung before I know who I am—and what I did.”
Luke gathered her trembling body close. “I’m not going to let that happen. When I have you somewhere safe, I’ll get to the truth. Trust me?”
Rose stared deep into his eyes. “With my life.”
That she stated the words with such strong conviction dropped a heaviness over him. He didn’t want to feel responsible for her. Damn it! The lady needed someone better than him to look up to. Didn’t she know that? He dragged in slow, steady breaths before thrusting the canteen at her. “Can you fill this while I move the wagon into some thick brush?”
“You won’t be gone long?”
Panic lining her face tightened his chest. He was all she had and to lose him would probably be more than Rose could take. He ran a finger across her cheek. “I’ll be back before you even miss me.”
At her nod, he climbed into the wagon and drove it a short distance into a tangled mass of mesquite and scrub oak. It took no time to unhitch the team and ride the horses back. Rose’s eyes lit up when she saw him. Could she be Josie Morgan? While he liked the solid ring to the name, he preferred his simple Rose—for now, anyway. Especially since Josie seemed to be a wanted woman. Not that there was anything a bit simple about her. He let out a troubled sigh. Answers to the riddles were out there somewhere—for both of them. He just had to try harder.
