Shadow Walker

by Connie Mason

  Dawn regarded Cole through hollow eyes. Then, sullen and uncommunicative, she turned away.

  Cole studied Dawn through narrowed lids. Her shoulder bones made sharp ridges beneath the bodice of her faded, far-too-large dress. He could see no visible indication of waist or hips beneath the shapeless garment. Only the telltale rise of firm, rounded breasts gave hint of the womanly form beneath the worn fabric.

  Dawn flushed beneath Cole’s scrutiny. She knew he thought her a scrawny excuse for a woman, but she didn’t care. The less she had to do with men, the better she liked it. She was fiercely glad that Cobb was dead; she had thought of killing him herself many times during the past five years. She was grateful to this man for doing what she had feared doing herself, but the sooner he left, the better. As for the money…. it was hers. Billy owed her for all she’d had to endure as his wife. The money would help her to forge a new life for herself.

  “Are you sure you know nothing about the train loot?” Cole repeated sharply.

  “Billy didn’t confide in me.”

  She was lying. Cole knew it. Yet he couldn’t fault her for wanting the money for herself. Lord knows she deserved it. But he had a job and was honor bound to perform it to the best of his ability. Compassion had no place in the life he lived. At one time it might have, but losing Morning Mist had changed him forever.

  Cole pulled out a rickety chair, one of two that rested on uneven legs beside the scarred kitchen table. “Sit down, Mrs.—er—Dawn. I think you know more than you’re willing to reveal. Keeping that money is a crime even if you didn’t participate in the robbery.”

  Dawn sidled around him warily and perched on the edge of the chair Cole indicated. “I told you, Billy didn’t confide in me.”

  “Did you know about the train robbery?”

  She looked up at him, studying him just as he had studied her a few minutes before. She had never before seen a man with hair the color of his. He was tall and strongly built. Though he was a White man, his skin was almost the same creamy tan as hers. Obviously, he was no stranger to the sun. Nor to vigorous exercise, judging from the well-developed muscles of his legs and torso.

  The taut width of his shoulders stretched the material of his plaid shirt, and his snug-fitting tan pants emphasized the solid muscular thickness of his long legs. A silk neckerchief, leather vest and scuffed boots completed the blatant display of masculinity that would have impressed any other woman but Dawn.

  “I asked you a question, Dawn,” Cole said harshly. “Did you know about the train robbery?”

  Dawn nodded jerkily. She moistened her bruised lips with the tip of her tongue, reminding Cole that she was hurt, possibly more than he realized. Only a heartless bastard would interrogate an injured woman, and he hadn’t fallen that low yet.

  “Do you have some salve in the cabin?” he asked. “Your face needs tending.”

  Dawn gave him a look that spoke eloquently of her distrust of him. “Why do you care? Billy never did.”

  Cole swore with enough venom to make Dawn recoil in fear. “I’m not Cobb. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you and I meant it. Where’s that salve?”

  Beyond speech, Dawn pointed to the cupboard. Cole reached it in two strides, found a round jar of salve inside and little else. He opened cupboard after cupboard and found nothing in the way of food, nothing edible at all. With difficulty he contained his anger. It wasn’t his custom to frighten helpless women. The girl had been brutalized and abused, making her distrustful of all males. If the lack of food in the house was any indication, Dawn had been starved as well as beaten. Dimly he wondered if Cobb’s gang had used her sexually. He thought they had.

  Cole returned with the salve and set it down on the table. “Is there water in the cabin?” Dawn nodded toward a bucket on the dry sink. “What about clean cloths?”

  “In the drawer. You don’t need to bother, I can do for myself. I always have.”

  “Just shut up and sit still.” Dipping the cloth in the water, Cole gently bathed Dawn’s face, surprised at the dirt accumulated there. When the grime came away, he discovered a smooth golden complexion that promised to be without blemish once the bruises healed. He carefully dabbed at the drops of blood gathered at the corners of her split lips, and when she flinched he had the unaccountable urge to kiss the hurt away.

  Dawn squirmed uncomfortably beneath Cole’s gentle ministrations. Never had a man touched her with such tenderness or caring. Of course, she knew why he was doing it. He wanted the stolen money and would go to any lengths to recover it, even to treating a no-account half-breed with kindness and consideration, something she’d never had from any man.

  Cole dipped his fingers into the jar of salve and spread it over her bruises. The hardness of his expression and the cold calm with which he performed the chore did nothing to ease Dawn’s nervousness. She thought Cole was much too controlled, too tautly coiled, and waited for the explosion.

  Cole worked quietly beneath the skewering intensity of Dawn’s blue eyes. Conflicting emotions warred within him. He felt pity, compassion and, surprisingly, admiration. He strongly suspected that Dawn was lying about her knowledge of the train robbery and where the money was hidden. If she refused to tell him where it was, he’d be obliged to conduct a thorough search of the premises despite her objections.

  Cole stood back and regarded Dawn solemnly. “There. If the salve works, your face will be as good as new in a few days. Why did Cobb beat you?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  She shook her head, spreading a curtain of tangled black silk around her back and shoulders. Cole appeared mesmerized, reminded once again of his beloved Morning Mist. Dimly he wondered if Dawn would turn out to be the beauty he suspected her to be. The facial bones beneath the bruises and swelling were good. Her cheekbones were high and cleanly defined, her blue eyes exceptionally clear and bright, and her lashes were so long and thick he was amazed that she could hold them up. He wrinkled his nose, thinking a little soap and water would do wonders for her appearance.

  “Very well. I’ll let that go for the time being, since you’re so reluctant to talk about it. It’s getting late. If you’re up to it, perhaps you can fix us something to eat. Tomorrow I’ll start searching for the money in earnest. Unless,” he said, regarding her solemnly, “you save us both a lot of trouble and tell me where it’s hidden.”

  “I told you, Billy …”

  “… Didn’t confide in you. I know. Very well, have it your way. What about that grub?”

  “I … there’s not …” She gave an eloquent shrug and refused to meet his eyes.

  “I think I already know what you’re trying to say. There’s no food in the cabin, is there? Cobb rode away without a thought for your welfare. Look at you. You’re skinny as a rail. How did you feed yourself during his absences?”

  Dawn wondered herself. It hadn’t been easy. Between Billy’s irregular visits she’d had to fend for herself. He never left any money, so it would have been pointless to go into town. After a time she’d realized that Billy left her penniless for a purpose. He didn’t want her wandering around the countryside raising suspicion and alerting the law. He usually brought food with him when he returned, and that had helped.

  “I fish, and I trap small game when I can. Usually Billy brings food with him, but this time he arrived empty-handed. He couldn’t afford to go into town after pulling off robberies for fear of being recognized.”

  “There’s food in my saddlebags. I’ll bring in what I have, and you can put something together for us. It’s not much, but it will keep us until I can bring supplies back from town.”

  “Don’t bother. You won’t be here that long. There’s no money hidden here. Billy must have given it to one of his gang for safekeeping.”

  Cole snorted in derision. “You know Billy better than that. The loot is here, Dawn, I’d stake my life on it.” He left the cabin, still chuckling to himself.

  Dawn rose sti
ffly from the chair. Her back hurt dreadfully from the strapping Billy had given her. He had tried again to be a man with her without success. It was always the same. Nothing had changed during the five years of their marriage. Instead of placing the blame on the injury he had received during a bank robbery before they were married, he accused Dawn of not being woman enough to arouse him. The results were unmentionably vile. He assuaged his lust by pummeling her with his fists, and when he tired of that, he removed his belt and used it on her back and buttocks until he grew bored with the sport.

  Thank God Billy rarely returned to the hideout, Dawn thought as she measured out the last bit of coffee in the can, poured it into the iron coffeepot, and fired up the stove with the last of the firewood.

  The one luxury in the tiny cabin was the cook-stove, and Dawn constantly blessed the previous owners for leaving it behind. It provided welcome warmth in the winter when wind-driven snow blasted through the cracks in the walls and shuttered windows.

  Cole returned with a knapsack and placed it on the dry sink. “It’s not much. A few potatoes, an onion, bacon and beans. I think there’s a bit of flour and sugar, too. Can you manage?”

  Dawn laughed without humor. “It’s far more than I’m accustomed to.”

  Cole turned away, unable to hide the pity he felt for her. “I need to tend to my horse. I’ll put him in the lean-to with your mule. Is there hay inside for Warrior?”

  “There’s plenty of hay. Billy treated his animals better than he did me.”

  Cole grunted, oddly distressed by the picture her words conjured. What had the bastard done to her besides use her for a punching bag? he wondered as he left the cabin. What had he allowed his men to do? Dawn was as skittish as a young colt, distrustful of men and hurt in ways few people would understand. She was like a fragile, broken doll, her spirit destroyed and her soul injured beyond repair.

  Dawn knew what Cole was thinking but didn’t care. Let him think she was helpless; it served her purpose. Let him believe she was broken in spirit and sick at heart. She’d have the last laugh when she left here with the money Billy had stolen. After Billy’s vicious beating today, Dawn realized she couldn’t continue like this. She had spied on him when he hid the train loot the day he’d arrived at the cabin, and prayed for him to leave on some errand or other so she could retrieve it and run away.

  Unfortunately, Billy’s hand had been heavier than usual and it had taken her longer this time to recover from his beating. By the time she’d roused herself from her stupor, Cole Webster had arrived and temporarily put her plans on hold. It was imperative now that she get rid of the lawman before the members of Cobb’s gang arrived for their share of the loot.

  Dawn worked efficiently and silently, using the ingredients Cole had provided for their meal. She fried the bacon and used the grease to fry together the potatoes and onion. There was enough flour for a batch of biscuits, and she shoved them into the oven to bake. Supper was on the table by the time Cole walked through the door. They ate in silence, each consumed with their own thoughts.

  “That was good,” Cole said, leaning back and draining the last of his coffee.

  “Thank you,” Dawn said as she sopped up a bit of grease with her biscuit and popped it into her mouth. One biscuit remained on the plate and she eyed it hungrily. But she’d been conditioned by Cobb not to take anything he might want for himself. Sometimes he made her watch him eat just to humiliate her for her failure to please him sexually.

  Cole saw the direction of her gaze and swallowed the lump of pity forming in his throat. “I couldn’t manage another bite. Go ahead and eat that last biscuit. I’ll ride into Dodge for supplies first thing in the morning. Look for me around lunchtime.”

  Dawn nodded agreement. Pride was for fools to indulge in, and she was no fool. She was a survivor. She would survive long after Cole was gone. And she’d have money to buy all the food she could eat.

  “I have no money to pay for food,” Dawn said, licking the last bit of crumbs from her fingers.

  Cole’s body reacted in a way he’d never expected at the sight of Dawn’s pink tongue lapping over and between her fingers until she’d cleaned them of every last crumb. He shifted uncomfortably and tried not to think of all the other things she could do with her tongue. The girl was an outlaw’s woman, for God’s sake. Willing or not, she had lain with Cobb and God only knew how many others. She’d lied about the money, and for all he knew she was as much a part of the gang as the other members.

  “Did I ask for money? I don’t expect you to provide my food while I’m here. Your cupboards are bare, you can’t even feed yourself. Of course,” he hinted, “you could save us all a lot of trouble if you would show me where Cobb hid the money.”

  “I’d tell you if I knew,” Dawn said, giving him a sullen glare. “Go ahead and search, you’ll find nothing. Why don’t you leave now? Searching is a waste of time.”

  “Nice try, Dawn, but it won’t work. I have a keen sense about these things, and my gut tells me the money is here. I’m being paid to recover that money, and I’m damn well going to do it. It would be a lot easier on both of us if you cooperated. You have no reason to remain loyal to Cobb after what he did to you. What do you plan to do, turn the loot over to the gang members after taking Cobb’s share for yourself?”

  No, I’m going to keep all of it, Dawn thought fiercely. Aloud, she asked, “How long do you intend to remain here?”

  “For as long as it takes.” He turned toward the door. “I’ll bed down in the shed. Good night, Dawn.”

  Dawn watched Cole leave, the corners of her mouth turned downward into a scowl. Just when something good happened to her, that brash railroad man had to show up and spoil everything. For five long, desperate years she’d prayed for Cobb’s death. Twice she had tried to run away and twice she’d been dragged back and beaten until she couldn’t walk. Now that she had the opportunity and means to leave this vile place of pain and humiliation, Cole Webster was going to take it all away from her.

  Dawn paced the cramped confines of the cabin, too nervous to sleep, too restless to remain cooped up. The night was exceptionally balmy, the moon bright and inviting. She knew the river would be warm and soothing on her abraded back and buttocks, and on the spur of the moment she decided to slip out and bathe. During the times Cobb used the cabin as a hideout, Dawn deliberately made herself appear unappealing to her husband and his cohorts. She would let days go by without combing her hair, changing her clothes or washing. Only when Cobb was gone did she groom herself with any care, not that it mattered. She rarely saw another living being during Cobb’s absences.

  Dawn found a ragged piece of linen, a sliver of soap and a clean dress only slightly less threadbare than the one she wore. Cobb wasn’t one to spend his money on unnecessary fripperies. She slipped barefoot through the front door and followed the well-trodden path to the river.

  Cole awoke with a start. Trained by the Sioux to hear a twig snap even in sleep, he peered through the darkness for the source of the almost silent footsteps. He saw a wraithlike figure heading toward the river, and alarm bells went off in his head. Rising as quietly as a shadow, he followed noiselessly.

  Chapter Two

  Dawn stood on the sloping riverbank, pausing in a rare moment of delight as a million silvery moonbeams danced upon the water’s dark surface. It was so seldom that anything in this life gave her joy that she savored the unique feeling. Had she a romantic soul she would have said that this was a night for lovers. The air was warm and humid, scented with the aroma of prairie flowers.

  But Dawn had never believed in fairy tales. Happiness didn’t exist in this life, and love was for dreamers. Only fools dared to dream. Since Dawn was a half-breed and the wife of a brutal outlaw, she couldn’t afford to indulge in fantasies. Sighing with visible regret, Dawn cleared her mind of foolish thoughts and pulled her baggy dress over her head. She wore nothing underneath.

  Cole hovered discreetly behind a clump of bushes, watchin
g, waiting, convinced that Dawn intended to retrieve the train robbery money from its hiding place and disappear into the star-studded night. His lungs emptied harshly when he saw her pull off her ragged garment and toss it aside. She was naked.

  Poised on the sloping bank, Dawn raised her face to the moon. Cole tried to look away but couldn’t. She was thin, too thin. He hadn’t realized that she was so fine-boned, so delicate. Her back was long and shapely, her buttocks taut and … His gaze jerked back up to her back, then down again to her buttocks. Sweet Lord! Her back and buttocks were scored with raw welts. Earlier Cole had speculated on whether Cobb had abused Dawn’s body as well as her face, and now he knew.

  Suddenly Dawn turned slightly, providing Cole with a tantalizing view of her breasts. He sucked his breath in sharply. They were perfect. Round, lush and golden, with nipples the color of dark honey. They tilted impudently upward, delicious and tempting. Cole’s mouth went dry and he turned away. When he looked back, Dawn had waded into the water and was rubbing herself briskly with soap. He could see the lather bubbling on her skin and imagined himself rinsing it off her sweet body with his hands.

  Cole’s eyes turned a predatory green as he watched Dawn wash and rinse her long black hair, fascinated by the graceful arching of her body. His own body hardened and he stifled a groan as she waded to shore and rubbed herself dry with a scrap of cloth. His disappointment was keen when she donned a clean dress and traced her steps back to the cabin. He didn’t follow until much later, after he’d taken a dip in the bracing water to cool his heated flesh.

  Who would have thought a skinny, abused wretch, a liar and possibly a thief, could make him feel things he hadn’t felt since Morning Mist’s death? He shook his head to clear it of Dawn’s image. He had lived too long with the memory of his dead wife to replace it with that of another woman.

  An outlaw’s wife.