Once a Hero

by Raine Cantrell

  “Isabel.” He feathered her name over her lips, touching them with his own for a brief, all too brief, moment. “I want you.” He nuzzled her ear, inhaling the sage-clean scent of her hair. The thought of her bathing alone while he was out of his head, unable to protect her, provoked a devilish feeling of possession. “You’re mine. And I’ll wait,” he whispered, cupping her satin-smooth cheek with his slightly rough palm.

  “Know this for the truth. I’m a very, very patient man when I want something. And I’ll be very gentle with you.”

  Her senses all exploded. There was no mistaking the promise of his words in his steamy gaze. She shivered like a small leaf caught by a storm wind. He drew her like no other man with his gentle touch and his bold promise that took nothing from her but what she wished to give.

  And Isabel knew she wished to give to Kee Kincaid the very passion she had just denied him.

  A hot, tense knot formed deep inside her. She had only to lean a little closer and he would kiss her. Kiss her into a world where only desire ruled, where promises and obligation had no place. But afterward…what would there be for her?

  Kee knew enough about women to understand the sudden turbulence of her unfocused gaze. He sensed her inner battle and knew she wavered. One little push and he’d have what he wanted. Isabel. All sweetly heated, giving and taking, no holding back. Her eyes drew him in, tempted him to whisper the right words, but never a promise of tomorrow.

  But the good Lord, who watched over fools and innocents, used His own branding iron to sear both conscience and a few painful places that quickly disabused Kee of any idea to seduce Isabel from her choice.

  For now, he allowed.

  “You, lovely lady,” he muttered, turning away and raking one hand through his hair, “must ride with a whole bevy of saints’ protection. Just as well, too. I’d hate loving you in a rush.”

  Low as his muttering was, Isabel heard him. She struggled to keep the hurt from her voice.

  “You would never give up your freedom to love a woman, Kee. Your spirit is too restless. And a woman would buy herself a world of hurt to love a man who could not settle down with her. A woman, Kee, needs to make a home for the man she loves. She needs to see her dreams in his eyes. She needs to know that her dreams are in his heart. And she would want to work beside him, loving him, as he made his own dreams come true.”

  She had succeeded in hiding the hurt, but not a touch of bitterness. She saw his back stiffen.

  “You’re talking about marriage, Isabel.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, sealing her fate with that one word. And when his continued silence frayed already strained nerves, she added, “I need to give my body to the man who will treasure my love, Kee. The women in my family love but once.”

  Kee grabbed hold of a limb above his head to steady himself. Marriage! Why, of all the females in the territory, did he have to find one holding out for marriage? And why had she said that about the women in her family?

  She couldn’t know what was said about the Kincaid men. There was only one woman for them. His adoptive father, his uncles, all three had escaped the wedding noose until that one special woman had come into their lives. Then there was no stopping them from having that woman as wife, mate, heart’s love.

  But he didn’t have the Kincaid blood in him although he carried their name.

  The same couldn’t be said of him.

  Could it?

  He wasn’t ready to settle down. There were too many trails he hadn’t ridden, too many places he had not seen. He’d even avoided the marriage trap a time or two. But here came this black-haired, blue-eyed witch with all the feminine tempting wiles…

  Hold it! a sane voice whispered.

  When did Isabel tease and tempt?

  She breathed, Kee thought. For him that was all the temptation needed to arouse him into an ache that would not quit.

  How the hell had he gone from apology to this far too serious and undesired talk of marriage? He needed a distraction, and fast. Real fast or he’d be saying something he’d likely regret in the morning.

  “You should rest, Kee. There has been no sign of them. We should be safe here until morning.”

  Her soft voice so full of concern for him sliced through him like a heated knife. Anger would be good right about now. He couldn’t summon a spit’s worth for her, or against her.

  Without being conscious of it, Kee had taken in every aspect of the camp she had chosen. It was a good one. He had a field of vision of the stream, but not the horses. He could also look up and see the canyon’s top. If he’d been awake and working, he couldn’t have chosen a better place.

  “This Apache woman, how did you get tangled with her?”

  “I spent a good part of the night trying to sort out Clarai’s desire to kill.”

  “Clarai her name?” This is good, he told himself. Don’t look at Isabel. Keep your mind on that Apache and her wicked knife.

  “Her Apache name,” Isabel said. “I believe it means moon. She was always a troublesome child, angry all the time, and she hated Walz. He did not want her, and Ken-tee wanted him, so she left the child behind.”

  Isabel moved to the fire where she had kept coffee warm at its edge. She poured out a cup and asked Kee if he wanted any.

  Kee hunkered down near the fire, taking the cup from her, careful not to touch her. The coffee was just the way he liked it, thick enough to float a horseshoe.

  “You told me that the Apache believed Ken-tee betrayed them. What happened to her?”

  Isabel hugged her raised knees and stared at the fire. “They came in the night and raided Walz’s home. They captured Ken-tee. There were people around. They managed to rescue her, but not in time to save her life. The Apache had cut out her tongue and she died within the hour. So Clarai had two reasons to hate Walz. Of course, all this happened years ago. He took up with a Mexican woman when he moved on.”

  “Isabel, I can understand her hating the man, but he is dead. Almost two years now. And that doesn’t explain why she is after the gold.”

  “To keep me from having it. My grandmother will lose her land if she does not have the gold needed to fight the claim that it is not a legal grant.”

  Kee refilled his cup. “I know what it’s like to fight for your land. The family that adopted me went through their own hell fighting cattle rustlers, outlaws robbing their mine payrolls and dodging more than a few hired guns who wanted them dead. But getting back to this Clarai. You speak of her as if you know her very well.”

  She heard his unspoken question. Isabel toyed with the end of her braid, and wondered how much she should tell him. Would Kee still look at her with that hunger in his eyes if he knew the truth?

  “Look, Isabel, if I’m probing where I shouldn’t, tell me. But this woman tried to kill me, and she’s obviously after you. I think I have a right to know just where this vindictiveness comes from.”

  She tossed her braid behind her shoulder and looked at him. She was not ashamed. If it mattered so much to him, then he was not the man she thought he was.

  “The relationship is complicated.”

  “Try me.” He was pushing, but wasn’t about to stop. She had been hiding things from the beginning. Things he needed to know if they were both to stay alive.

  The words were dragged from her. “My grandmother and Ken-tee’s mother were sisters. Clarai is my cousin.”

  He studied her, thinking of his own assessment that her olive gold skin came from heritage and not from the sun. He gazed at her black hair that gleamed like a raven’s wing, and noted again, the delicately drawn features. And then he smiled.

  “Isabel, complicated or not, the combination however it came about, resulted in one very beautiful woman.”

  Her mouth parted in surprise as she stared at him. Where was the scorn she had feared?

  “What did I say?”

  She could not stop the blush that heated her cheeks. “You just surprised me, Kee. I know how most whites feel
about those of mixed blood, especially here in the territory.”

  “So I won’t sleep so easy because you’re part Apache? It’s a little late to worry about that. I don’t care.”

  “My grandmother is the beautiful one. She is not a full blood. Her father was a Spanish soldier who fell in love with her mother and the land. When my grandfather first saw her, she was still a child, but he swore even then that he would marry her one day. His father disowned him, and then, when the older sons died one by one, he finally welcomed my grandfather back to his house.”

  “You’ve never said anything about your parents.”

  “They died when diphtheria swept through our village.”

  “You were young, weren’t you?” He tossed out the last of the coffee and set his cup aside. Then stood up.

  “Yes, I was young. A little while later Clarai came to live with us. My grandmother felt sorry for her and begged to have her.”

  “Hell of a way to repay her kindness.”

  “My grandmother was kind and understanding to her. But Clarai always wanted more than she had. She was insanely jealous. And vicious. I remember once when we were having a fiesta and grandmother made new gowns for us both. Clarai was happy enough with hers until she saw that mine had more lace. The next morning I found my gown cut to pieces.” She shook her head over the memory and others that came quickly to mind.

  Kee prowled outside. The afternoon sun was bright and he shaded his eyes as he studied the canyon’s rim.

  “Isabel, I think we should eat and then ride on. I don’t want to give them time to circle around. There is only one way out of here. It would be a good place for them to ambush us.”

  He turned and saw that she was digging close to the fire.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I knew you would be hungry. I found a small pocket of clay and baked the fish I caught in it. They should be cooked now.”

  Kee looked bemused. “You continue to surprise me, lovely one. When we’re done, you’ll have to tell me exactly where we need to go to get your gold.”

  Isabel paused and leaned back on her heels. “Kee, I do not want you to come with me.”

  He spun around. “Not come with you? If you think I’ll let you ride out with those hombres ready to kill, you’ve got another thing coming, lady.”

  “Do not snap at me. I mean it. Clarai swears she will kill you. Do you think I want your death on my conscience? You have done so much for me. I can never thank you enough. I will find a way to reward you, Kee.”

  “Hold it.” He came to stand beside her, looking down at her with all the pent-up fury of a very confused man.

  “I thought we had this settled, Isabel. But just think again. You’re not going alone. I don’t care about what that Apache witch swore. I’m not so easy to kill. You’re not going alone. And I don’t want to hear one more word about it. And forget your damn reward, too. I’m doing this to help you.” He took a deep breath, then another for good measure. It hissed out from between his clenched teeth. “You’re a contrary woman. One minute all soft and helpless, and the next someone I’d like at my back.”

  “Kee, I—”

  “Not one more word. No!” he yelled when she opened her mouth. “And if you push me, lady, I’ll keep you quiet the best way I know how.”

  It was not until dusk had almost fallen and they were making their way out of the canyon that Isabel ventured to ask him what he meant.

  And Kee, distracted by the need to keep a wary eye on their trail, didn’t think about his answer.

  “I intended to kiss you senseless until you didn’t know where I began and you ended. Then if your cousin found us, I’d die a happy man.”

  His stark words brought heated images to mind and she was glad that he did not turn around to see her. He offered her the first taste of passion, and left her hungry for more.

  She should have told him about Clarai’s insane jealousy. Anything Isabel had, Clarai wanted. And if she could not have it, she destroyed it.

  Desire churned inside her. She wanted Kee with a hunger that hurt. But she could not see him die.

  Somehow she had to leave him behind.

  A chill shivered up her spine. She glanced upward then turned to look behind. She barely stifled a gasp.

  There on the rim stood a lone man with the last rays of the sun reflecting off his field glasses. He was watching them. She was sure of that. Before she could warn Kee she saw him cut sharply to the right.

  “Saints in hell! Ride, Isabel!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  She rode only far enough to keep the horses out of Kee’s way. She was looking to leave him behind, and it seemed her prayer was answered. She could ride on. No sooner had the thought formed than she dismissed it.

  She could not leave Kee while he was in danger.

  Breathlessly waiting for him, and for the shots she was sure would come, Isabel slowly realized that a strange quiet surrounded her. No birds, not even the stir of a breeze touched the canyon’s floor.

  Minutes later, just as the waiting became unbearable, Kee rode up. She stared at what he held out to her.

  “An arrow? I do not understand, Kee.”

  “Someone shot this Apache arrow at me. But the man shooting it wasn’t an Apache.”

  “What do you mean? How can you know that?”

  Kee glanced back, but there still was no sign of anyone. Not even a shadow remained of the man he had spotted up on the rim.

  “I’ll tell you how I know, Isabel. If he was an Apache, he wouldn’t have missed. Let’s ride.”

  She was ready to argue with him, but his face appeared as intimidating as a clenched fist. Now, she had lost her chance. But only for now.

  “Where are we going, Kee?” She struggled to guide her horse around the boulder-choked canyon floor and keep him in sight.

  “There’s an old man I want to see. We should reach his place by nightfall.”

  “But I thought you wanted to head to the mine?”

  “We’ll get there. I want some supplies. I’m running low on bullets. Besides, no one knows these mountains like Old Man Reavis. He is a cantankerous old coot. Lives like a hermit.”

  Isabel rode alongside Kee. She turned back a few more times, but there was no one to see. Yet the feeling they were being watched persisted.

  “If the man lives like a hermit, how can you get any supplies from him?”

  “That old man makes more money selling vegetables to the miners than they do panning or hard-rocking for gold. Some say he’s got quite a stash buried somewhere on his ranch. I’ve heard that one year he made almost five thousand dollars, and in any man’s language that’s a mother lode strike. But more important to me, Reavis can tell us if anyone else besides those four are prowling these mountains. The Indians leave him alone. They believe he’s crazy and has the protection of the gods. And he, well, I can’t explain more. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

  Isabel did not answer him. Kee said there were only four, but that could not be true. She had seen one more. The one man Clarai would not be without, for Vasa was truly all that was evil, a man without conscience, who killed for sport.

  Struggling to remain calm, Isabel thought of her terrifying escape from Alf, then finding Kee and the passion that exploded between them. The harrowing trail and Kee’s open wound had chased thoughts of Vasa and his whereabouts from her mind.

  She had to tell Kee. Had to ask him where the man was. As soon as they stopped at this man’s ranch.

  But Kee had neglected to tell her that the small ranch cleaved into the side of a canyon with walls thousands of feet high. There was only one entrance, and that was almost as terrifying as coming down that mountain trail. She was exhausted by the perilous climb but followed Kee.

  Nearly asleep in the saddle, Isabel jerked awake when a bullet spat rock too close to their horses.

  “Reavis,” Kee called out, “we’re friendly. Need to buy a few supplies. Hold your fire, I’m coming in.�
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  Kee turned to Isabel. “I know you’re tired, but wait here for me. I don’t trust that old coot not to take a notion that he needs a woman if he gets a good look at you. I’m not about to lose you to him, or to anyone else.”

  He set his spur to Outlaw then pulled up and turned back to her. “I meant what I said, Isabel. Wait right here for me. Bury any fool thought of going off by yourself.”

  His voice took on a low, dark, almost threatening tone. “I’d follow you to hell if I had to.”

  “Kee,” she whispered when he was out of sight, “why is it you do not see that hell is where you are going if you stay with me?”

  Kee rode up to the ramshackle house. A lantern glowed near the doorway but there was no sign of Reavis. In the corral the burros moved restlessly, and Outlaw snorted. The horse pawed the earth, tossing his head as if to warn his rider that he didn’t like this place. Kee ordered him to settle down and waited while Reavis took the time to size him up. Kee would have done the same to any man riding out in the dark.

  The old, dry voice came from behind Kee. “You sit mighty easy, stranger.”

  “Ain’t got no reason not to. Kee Kincaid’s the name. Like I said, I need supplies. Hear tell you make a practice of helping out a man now and again.”

  “No charity, mister.”

  “Ain’t asking for any. Need two sides of bacon, coffee and flour if you can spare some. Wouldn’t mind having a few potatoes, too.”

  Kee heard the odd shuffle as the old man moved around to stand in front of him. His clothes were in shreds, his hairy chest nearly bare and he held a Sharps .50 buffalo gun pointed at Kee. The gun would open a hole in a man as big as a fist. Kee paid no mind to his slight build; he watched the coldest pair of eyes he’d seen study him.

  After a few tense minutes, Reavis scratched his long white beard. “Fetch your horse over yonder. Water’s sweet mountain cold. Don’t get much company. Don’t want any. But you look like a decent sort. That your woman waiting down below?”