Feelings warred inside her. Hadn’t she warned Sam he was coming to mean too much to her son!
Robby waited, his head tilted at an inquiring angle. “Ain’t you feelin’ good, Mom?”
Leaning over to brush her lips across his grimed forehead, she pushed an errant lock of hair back off his face. “I’m fine.”
“Robby,” Ben said quickly, “take the guns to my cabin and we’ll clean them later. You’ll need to feed Kitten before you get to your chores.”
“Sure, Ben,” he agreed. But he went away muttering to himself that his mother was sure acting strange all of a sudden.
“See you went and got feed over to Hadly’s,” Ben mumbled. “You took off this mornin’ without sayin’ a word. And Sam, he was worried. Robby, too. By the way, Sam said he might not be back for supper.” She glared at him. “Your toe got somethin’ wrong with it, Jen?” He glanced down pointedly at her booted foot tapping impatiently on the ground.
“Are you going to tell me, Ben, or do I drag it out of you?”
“Now what’s that you’re referrin’ to, Jen?” He’d have bet his coonskin cap she could light fire with the sparks shooting from her eyes. Sam had sure done something to rile her.
“Ben, don’t do this.” Jenny tried not to let the panic she felt show. “You know what I’m referring to. Where did Sam take off to? And when?”
‘Town for one and I’d be guessin’ it was near to noon when he left. Yeah. It was ‘bout then. He’d been talkin’ to me ‘bout how he was glad your boy had me ‘round here and I was tellin’ him I ain’t got all that much time till Robby’s full-growed. Sam was thinkin’ you didn’t want any help or interferin’ with Robby. And he weren’t in no damn better mood than you either.”
“You’re sure he went into town?” she questioned harshly, ignoring the rest. A sick feeling of dread stole through her.
“Well, as sure as I can be since I ain’t siftin’ in his pocket. He went lookin’ for you first,” Ben said, not liking her paled look. “He come back down to the creek afumin’ and Robby got a notion that it was his fault. ‘Course, I explained it wasn’t him. But then, if I knew what was goin’ on, I’d find myself with nothin’ to ponder.”
“Ben …” Quickly, Jenny told him the little she’d learned from Ross.
“Well, now,” he asked, rocking back on his heels, “whaddaya think you’re gonna do ‘bout it?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered, biting her lip. “If I ride into town now I could cause more of a stir. Enough people saw us together. And suppose Sam didn’t ride into Folsom? What then? I’d be raising trouble and warning those men I knew something. After the way Mac described them, I don’t want to see either one.” The thought chilled her and she rubbed her arms to dispel it.
“Won’t argue that, Jen. Mac generally knows what he’s talkin’ ‘bout. And don’t be lookin’ like you’ll spit in my eye for not offerin’ to go into town in your place. Can’t see the sense of your gettin’ all worked up. Ain’t gonna help Sam none to my way of figurin’. He’ll take care of himself.”
“Oh, sure he will.” With both hands on her hips, she stepped closer, her look challenging. “Aren’t you forgetting his condition when we shot him?”
“That was then and this is now,” he said with measured patience. “He can handle that gun he’s packin’ pretty good. Damn sight more, I’d admit.”
“But there’s two of them!”
“Why, so you said. I’d figure a man like him could come up against one or two men easy and come away walkin’. Yep,” he added in a smug way that made Jenny give him a speculative, narrow-eyed stare. “I do surely think that.”
“Ben, do you know something about Sam that I don’t?”
“Well, you see him one way, a woman’s way,” he explained gruffly. “Now me, I jus’ see him as he is, as a man.”
“You won’t go to Folsom and try to help him? What if he meets—”
“Jenny,” Ben cut in impatiently, “iff’n you’d ask that, you don’t know Sam ‘tall. He’s a man that does his own fightin’. Figured you’d have that part of him down pat by now. I guess I was wrong ‘bout that, too.”
“Too?” she repeated. “What else, Ben?” she called out when he walked away, leaving her standing there, tom over believing him and wanting to be sure Sam was all right. She turned when Robby called out to her and knew she wouldn’t leave her son and take the risk of going into town even if she felt Sam needed her.
But as night passed, Jenny turned away from the window, where she’d been hoping against hope to catch a glimpse of Sam returning. She had no idea how late it was; she ached, her eyes burned, but she refused to go to bed. Something warned her she had to wait for him. Guilt tore at her, thinking that if anything had happened to him she wouldn’t be able to live with it. If only she hadn’t sent him away last night; if only she hadn’t taken off this morning like a scared filly without a word to him, Sam wouldn’t have ridden into town.
Or would he?
Pulling her woolen shawl tight around her, she spun around to keep her vigil by the window.
Where was he?
She wasn’t to have an answer to that question for two days. The weather, seeming to mock her wintry despair, turned warm again. She was almost fooled into thinking it was spring. Even the tiny larks, singing outside as they soared up from the towering trees, sent high sweet notes spiraling down and filled the air with a song of welcome. Only the sight of the golden aspens lining the mountain walls, their delicate leaves dancing in the sweeping breeze until they glittered like shattered sunlight, told her it was fall.
Jenny had scrubbed and cleaned, worked her horses, and exhausted herself to stop thinking about Sam. Even now the wind distracted her by playfully tugging the bed linens she had washed this morning and was now trying to fold. Laughing, she gave up and gathered them into a bundle, her hair whipping around her face.
In the midst of inhaling the warm, sun-sweet smell of clean linens, Jenny heard the distinctive sounds of a horse’s hooves striking stone on the path. She knew before she saw him that Sam had come back. Spinning around, arms filled with sheets and quilts, she found herself lifted by his powerful arms, then dragged tight against him.
“Sam! Where were you? I was desperate…”
“Jen … Jen, don’t be angry. I’ll tell you where—”
“I thought you were really gone.” His kiss was possessive, almost brutal, claiming her totally, plunging her into shock, and then, gentled with tenderness, overlapping the surge of desire bursting between them. The shifting slant of his restless mouth dissolved doubts about who he had been with. He’s here, she kept crying out silently, her kisses as hungry as his, knowing they were all that mattered now.
He tore his lips free, kissing her eyelids, the high planes of her cheekbones, seeking her mouth yet again, having to find the warmth that was Jenny’s alone to take the lonely chill from his soul. The bulk of cloth separated their bodies, but he arched closer, never wanting to let her go.
“I didn’t know what to think happened to you,” she murmured raggedly against the pulsing beat of his throat. His strong fingers threaded into her hair possessively, angling her head back and away, and she shook with fear of losing him. “I kept seeing you hurt again. Alone. Those men, the fighting … Oh, God, I thought of you—”
“Jen, I thought, too, all this time away from you.” His thumbs rode her cheekbones, his eyes dark, glittering amber, staring down at her face. And with a raw ache of wanting, he whispered against her lips, “Jen, I kept thinking about you not fighting me at all.”
For now she could only offer him what he took: hungry searching kisses that breached the wall around her soul.
And she would have gone on with her sweet hot offering but Sam’s reflexes were more sharply honed and he first sensed, then heard Ben clearing his throat behind him. Reluctantly, Sam slid his hands down the slender expanse of Jenny’s back. Closing his eyes, he eased
his mouth from hers, abruptly letting her go. But it was long moments before he regained enough control to turn around.
His curt nod to Ben was all the greeting needed between them, but Jenny wasn’t watching. She had turned her back toward both of them. Sam had come back to her. Still clutching the linens, she managed to lift one hand and touch her lips, tasting the lingering heat of him. But even as she wanted more of his kisses, her eyes longed for sight of him, so she turned around.
He stood bareheaded, the sun striking the red-gold glints in his hair. Her fingers crushed the cloth she held, stemming the rush of desire inside. With his back toward her, his head bent slightly to hear what Ben was whispering, she scanned the wrinkled cloth of his gray shirt pulled taut over his back, dropping down to his narrow flanked hips and long legs covered in dust-laden denim. Her eyes slowly focused on the sight of his gun. Tied to his thigh, it was slung lower on his hip than she had seen before, and for some strange reason it made it startlingly clear that he was changed.
But it wasn’t the gun alone, she realized as he turned around, facing her once more. Something in his face, the watchful eyes, his smooth lips, made her step back. The sudden glitter in his hazel eyes marked him … Jenny stifled a cry. He was no longer the hunted, but the hunter.
As if sensing her withdrawal, Sam reached out with his hand. “Come inside, Jen. I need to talk to you and Ben. Where’s Robby?”
“Down at the bam believin’ he needs to teach his cat to chase mice,” Ben replied, shooting an inquiring look at Jenny. He had noticed the same changes in Sam that she had.
As they walked inside the cabin, Jenny managed to regain her control. Piling the linens on her bed, she asked if either of them wanted coffee. Sam did and she hurried to get some, fearing he was deliberately waiting for her to sit before he started talking. Moments passed and he said no more. Jenny knew she couldn’t delay further, so she sat.
“When I took off for town two days ago,” Sam began, “I intended to come back that night. I wanted you to know.” He spoke to both of them, but his eyes warmed when he looked across the table at Jenny. She tucked her chin down, the only sign she’d even heard him. “Don’t know if Hadly came and told you, but those men were in Folsom looking for the buckskin. I spotted a few of Hadly’s hands and everyone including Mac and Morro got questioned about me. The two men weren’t in town when I got there, so I lit out for the saloon. I figured if I waited, they’d show up. Did myself too much drinking at first, but Mac joined me and like you, Ben, he’s a steady sort of man.”
He shot another look at Jenny, wondering why she sat there playing with her cup, saying nothing, and to all appearances not even listening to him. He stifled a rush of anger.
“All the time I was there I kept remembering how Sarah Parkins acted strange the night I was there with Robby.” If he hadn’t been watching for some sign, he would have missed the way Jenny’s hand clenched in reaction. Some inward cynicism made a faint curl come to his lips.
Jenny frowned, unaware. So she had been right about his reason for going into town. She wasn’t too sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.
Sam forced himself to continue. “Like I said, I’d been drinking and maybe not thinking too clear, ‘cause it was late when I decided to go down to her place. And who came out, dressed for riding, but the widow herself. She had a saddled horse ready in the small lean-to near her back shed. Something about the way she carefully looked around before mounting made me stay hidden in the shadows. I’ll admit I was more curious than anything, so I ran back to Mac’s and followed her on the buckskin.” He stopped, his gaze thoughtful as he sipped his coffee.
“Well, get on with the tellin’,” Ben urged, hunched over his cup.
“Bold as brass she was, riding straight out of town, north toward the mesa. Never once checked the trail behind her and a damn good thing she didn’t. I wasn’t seeing too clear myself by then.” He flashed a quick grin at Jenny that died immediately. Tension filled every comer of her body.
“I had to follow her pretty close not to lose her. Any curiosity I had soon gave way to outright worry when I saw her ride into those foothills. It was a damn crazy thing for a woman to do. I even thought about catching up with her to warn her, but something instinctively held me back.”
Jenny looked up at him. Now she understood why she felt strange with him. His voice sounded different. There was a hot rashness in his tone that had not been there before. He seemed more sure of himself, too. Meeting his level gaze, she saw a hard glint she was sure had been absent three days ago. A wildness seemed to ripple over his features.
“I’d guess we both spotted the campfire at the same time. I hung back some, but the widow lady rode boldly up to it and the men. I didn’t get a good look, but one was dressed in black, just like Mac told us.”
Jenny couldn’t tear her gaze away from his eyes. There was none of their former softness in them, but instead a steeliness. And his smile—what had he done to lose its warmth? Whatever he had found that had changed him, she felt it would not be leaving him again.
He took a long sip of coffee, still holding her gaze. “I managed to belly down a ravine close enough to hear some of what they said. And I found out they’d been trailing me all this time.”
“Trailin’ you?” That was enough to make even Ben sit up straight and fix Sam with a stern glance. “Why the hell were they doin’ that? Did they say? Damn me, son, spit it out!”
His eyes suddenly lost some of their heat. With a long, drawn-out sigh, he added, “That’s it. Don’t know the answers. I followed Sarah back into town and threatened her into talking with me. I’ve got an idea that the horse I rode and the gun I carry belonged to a friend of those men and that I killed him some time ago.”
Not even the crackle of the fire burning the logs disturbed the ensuing silence. He felt the need to explain, and for a moment his throat felt tight. It wasn’t Jenny’s fault for sitting there, not looking at him, frozen somewhere a hundred miles away.
“Sarah wouldn’t say why I killed him,” Sam continued. “She wouldn’t tell me his name; she even refused to tell me who she thought I was. I tried pushing her some, but I guess I ain’t any good at forcing a woman. After that, she lied to my face about even knowing those two men. Said if I told anyone, she’d deny it all and tell … Well, it don’t matter none who she’d tell. But I was left feeling she was afraid they’d come after her if they knew she’d talked to me at all.” His bitter smile reflected his voice. “There wasn’t much I could do after that but leave her be.”
“Well, now, it don’t surprise me any,” Ben finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them. “I ain’t sayin’ you’re a killer, Sam. I’d be figurin’ you’d have to have a damn good reason to pull that gun on any man. So don’t be dwellin’ on it.”
“Thanks, Ben. And I mean that. It’s hell finding out you killed someone and not know why or who it was. I rode back yesterday to look for those two men, but they were gone.” He kept his eyes downcast, playing with the cup, moving it around in small circles, feeling his chest constrict when Jenny sat there, saying nothing.
But what could she say? He had just admitted he was a killer! No, he was good and warm, gentle and caring, but he had said those words, and while Ben had instantly believed him, she couldn’t. She felt cold and refused to look at him.
“So what’s next, Sam?” Ben asked, wondering himself why Jenny was so quiet. Too quiet. Couldn’t she see what she was doing to Sam with her continued silence? What the hell was she up to?
“I’m pulling out come morning, Ben.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the cords knotted there from having no sleep and from the tension that rode him. He shot another covert look at Jenny, not knowing his lips had thinned in anger. Damn her! She’d greeted him with hot, sweet fire and now look at her, sitting there, ignoring him. He had to fight down the surge of unreasoning anger that rushed over him. She had a right to be upset, but not to l
ock him out this way.
“When I leave,” he told Ben, “I’ll try to pick up their trail and see where it leads.” He shoved his chair back more roughly than he had intended; it fell over and he picked it up, easing it back near the table. He gripped the wood until his knuckles whitened. “I’ll catch some shut-eye down at your place, Ben.”
“Sure. Go on. You need sleep more’n anythin’, Sam.”
Jenny didn’t agree or disagree. She turned her back until they were gone.
Later that evening after she kissed Robby and started for her own bed, there was a soft knock at the door. She knew it was Sam. Wanting to see him, needing to talk to him, she denied both at the same time. Waiting, she heard him call out, his words muffled, asking her to let him inside. With a sigh of regret, she gave in.
The glow from his cigarette gave her the briefest look at his hard profile when she unbolted the door. Rubbing her hands over her arms, she motioned him inside.
“Why did you come here tonight?” She turned around to face him. There was such a bleak look in his eyes that her heart went out to him in spite of the walls she had erected.
“I came here,” he said with a weary sigh, flipping the butt with a quick motion into the fire, “because I felt very alone tonight, Jen. And,” he added, drilling her with his stare, “there’s no place else I wanted to be but here with you.”
“Don’t do this to me,” she cried out softly, pleadingly. “Don’t ask that of me, Sam. I can’t.”
“I don’t want anything more than being here with you,” he insisted very softly. Sighing heavily, his eyes darkened with pain and his voice vibrated with anguish. “Jen, that’s not all true. I need to ask something of you. Before I do, I need to ask you to trust me. I need you to believe I’m not doing it to hurt you. Can you do that?”
She closed her eyes, a sensation of intense desolation sweeping over her. For too long she had been a woman alone, facing the harsh realities of that loneliness. Could she bear it any longer? Yet she couldn’t deny the almost desperate plea he had voiced.
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