Wild Is My Heart

by Connie Mason

  A baby! The thought had never occurred to her.

  “After last night I reckon it’s possible,” he drawled.

  His calm words sent Sam’s temper soaring. “Damn your black heart to hell and back! I want nothing of yours. Including your baby. If I am breeding I’ll find a way to get rid of it.”

  Colt’s face paled and his hands balled into tight fists, making Sam sorry she had said such a terrible thing. Especially since she didn’t mean it. She would love Colt’s baby as dearly as she loved its father. But she dare not admit she cared for Colt and risk being laughed at.

  “You’ll do no such thing!” Colt thundered, his face mottled with rage.

  “Let’s say I am pregnant,” allowed Sam quietly. “What then?”

  If it was possible, Colt grew even paler. Was he prepared to accept a half-breed bastard? Could he accept one? Christ! How had his life become so damned complicated? A month ago he was concerned only with killing Indians and bringing outlaws to justice. Now he was saddled with a half-breed squaw who might be carrying his child. To complicate matters, he was bombarded with feelings for the little wildcat that might be construed as love had circumstances been different. Her being half Comanche had changed everything except his confounded need for her, and it would take more than Indian blood in her veins to quench the inferno of desire she inspired in him.

  “I asked you a question, Colt,” Sam repeated.

  “I won’t let you starve, if that’s what you’re hintin’ at,” he said evasively. Sam bent him an oblique look, prompting him to add, “If you’re askin’ for a commitment, forget it. I don’t want a half-breed wife or …” His words faltered.

  “… half-breed bastard,” Sam completed, flushing angrily. “Don’t worry, this entire conversation is pointless anyway.”

  “How so?” Colt asked.

  “You’ll never know whether or not I’ll have your child. I won’t be here long enough for you to find out.” Then she whirled on her heel and flounced out the door, leaving Colt fuming in impotent rage.

  Colt fervently wished he could forget his duties for once and stay in one place long enough to tame the little hellion. Violet Eyes, bah! The Indians should have named her Wildcat or something in keeping with her fiery temperament. He had already told her what he expected of her, now all he could do was trust that Laura and Jake would keep her here until he returned. Colt knew Will loved the ranch and would resist any attempt to drag him away as long as he could.

  Why couldn’t he come to grips with his feelings for Sam? Colt asked himself glumly. Why couldn’t he admit he never wanted her to leave him and tell her he’d love any children she gave him? He knew exactly why. In his mind’s eye he could picture those same savages Sam claimed as relatives murdering his parents and carrying off his little sister, eventually turning her into one of them. Who could blame him for despising all Sam stood for and using her for his pleasure instead of offering her marriage as he might have done had things been different?

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was midnight when Colt admitted Jim Blake to his room above the Palace Saloon. The slim Ranger slipped inside, then turned to grasp Colt’s shoulders.

  “I saw you ride in today. Thank God you’re safe. You were gone so long I was afraid somethin’ happened to you. Did you get your woman back from the Indians? Is she all right?”

  “If you’re talkin’ about Sam, she’s back at the ranch,” Colt replied crisply. “The Comanches took her into Kiowa Territory. We returned just yesterday. To make a long story short, Sam wasn’t harmed.”

  “Sweet Jesus, you’re a lucky bastard! Goin’ alone into Injun country would have intimidated a lesser man. You’re either very foolish or very brave.”

  “It’s not the first time I traveled alone deep into Indian territory. Have you forgotten all those years I spent searchin’ for my sister? Not only did I live to tell of it, but my diligence finally paid off. I found both Sam and Laura in Black Bear’s village.”

  “Sweet lovin’ Jesus! You found your sister after all these years? I’m as pleased as a cowpoke on a Saturday night.”

  Colt grinned, Jim’s enthusiasm heartwarming. “Enough of me, Jim, what’s happened in my absence? Have the Logans tipped their hand yet? Have you managed to gain their confidence?”

  Jim snorted derisively. “I’m in their employ but have yet to earn their trust. Their kind trusts no one, least of all a gun-totin’ drifter. They purchased the Krebs ranch shortly after his cattle were run off by the Crowders and stolen by Comanches. The poor man couldn’t raise enough cash to pay the note due at the bank. So far my duties have consisted merely of ridin’ guard on the gold shipments between here and San Antonio.”

  “Have you talked to Cap’n Ford lately?”

  “I saw him in San Antonio two days ago.”

  “What are his orders?”

  “Mine are to remain in Karlsburg till I gather enough evidence to hang the Logans. Several ranchers swindled out of their land learned about the railroad and turned up at Ranger headquarters to register a complaint against the Logans. The ranchers accused them of employing illegal methods to cheat them out of their property but they’ve nothing on which to base their charges.”

  “What are my orders?”

  “Still the Crowders,” Jim revealed. “They’ve been givin’ ranchers down around Laredo a hard time. Cap’n Ford wants you to go down and investigate. ‘Pears like they’re rustlin’ cattle and hightailin’ it into Mexico to sell their stolen livestock. He suggests you leave immediately.”

  “Christ,” muttered Colt crossly. He had hoped to remain in the area long enough to see Laura settled and happy. Now it looked as if everything would have to remain on hold until he was released from his Ranger duties. “Will you go out to the ranch and tell Jake what you’ve just told me? He’ll know what to do in my absence. We’ve already discussed it. Tell Laura I’ll try to keep in touch.”

  “Does everyone in Karlsburg still think your name is Colt Andrews?” Jim asked curiously.

  “Yep, except for Sam, Jake, and Dolly. Douglas, and I’d like to keep it that way for a spell.”

  “What about Sam?”

  “What about her?” Colt asked sharply.

  “Is there a … special message you’d like me to deliver?”

  “What makes you think there should be?”

  “C’ mon, Colt, I’ve been with you a long time. When you go chasin’ after a woman like you did Sam Howard, I know she’s someone special to you.”

  Colt felt his body tense. Was he so transparent?

  “The whole town is talkin’ about Vern Logan and how he abandoned the girl to Injuns. They say you’re a brave man to take off after her alone. The bastard never will live that down. Even his old man is furious with him.”

  “I’d do the same for any woman,” Colt contended. “Sam is—merely a woman who—attracted me. You know me well enough to know I’m not ready to settle down.”

  Jim’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “What did you do, bed the girl and then tire of her? I’d be willin’ to bet she was a virgin before you got hold of her.” The slight stiffening he noted in Colt’s spine told him he had struck pay dirt.

  “Since when has it been your business to keep track of the women I bed?”

  “Forget it, Colt, I didn’t mean anythin’ by it. Hell, we’ve been friends too long to let a woman come between us. I’ll go out to the ranch and deliver your message. How soon you leavin’?”

  “I’m headin’ out at daybreak.”

  “Then I’ll let you get some shuteye. Take care, you know where to reach me.”

  “Jim, much obliged.”

  Easing his big body down on the bed, Colt sighed wearily, aware that too few hours remained before the arrival of dawn. Stripped to the waist, his six-shooters positioned nearby, he punched a comfortable place in his pillow, then groaned in annoyance when a knock at his door disrupted his plans. Thinking it was Jim returning to tell him something he had forgotten, Colt bade
him enter.

  To Colt’s dismay, Dolly Douglas stood poised in the doorway. He could hear evidence of late-night revelry wafting through the hallway behind her before she closed the door.

  “I’ve missed you, Colt,” she purred huskily. Without waiting for an invitation, Dolly glided toward the bed where Colt lay, undulating her hips seductively.

  “I’ve got a demandin’ job,” Colt replied evasively.

  “Is chasing little fillies over the countryside one of them?”

  “If that little filly was stolen by Indians, it is. Did you want somethin’, Dolly? I’m leavin’ at daybreak and have had blessedly little sleep these past weeks.”

  “Was your mission successful? Did you find the Howard girl?”

  “Yep,” Colt said tersely. His succinct reply seemed to nettle Dolly.

  “Damn, but you’re a close-mouthed bastard,” she muttered, disgruntled. “Sheriff Bauer told me more than you just did. The whole town knows how that cowardly Vern Logan ran off and left the girl to Injuns. I hope she wasn’t harmed none.”

  Colt’s expression softened. Dolly wasn’t a bad sort. He’d trust her more than most women he knew. She was just too damn nosy. “Sam is fine, Dolly. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your concern.”

  “I thought you might like some … company,” Dolly suggested boldly, moistening her lips with the pink tip of her tongue.

  “Some shuteye is what I need, Dolly,” Colt replied.

  Undaunted, Dolly leaned over to lightly stroke Colt’s bronzed chest, her breasts all but spilling over the low-cut, vivid green satin dress she wore to perfection. Colt felt a familiar tightening in his loins, recalling the expertise with which Dolly plied her trade. He reached up to fondle the outer curve of a soft white mound and unconsciously compared it to Sam’s golden-tinged flesh. For no apparent reason his hand dropped limply to his side, his body completely devoid of desire.

  “Christ! That little hellion’s turned me into a steer with no balls,” he muttered beneath his breath.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothin’, nothin’ at all.”

  Dolly’s brow wrinkled as comprehension dawned. “It’s the Howard girl, isn’t it? You’re hung up on her. I never thought I’d see the day Colt Colter would be tied in knots over a woman. Does she know you love her?”

  “Damnation, Dolly, you’re too perceptive for your own good,” Colt grumbled irritably. “And nosy. I never said I loved anyone. You know I’m not hankerin’ to settle down. Vamoose, woman, tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

  Dolly eyed Colt curiously. “What’s eating at you, Colt? We’ve known one another quite a spell now. Long enough for me to know when something is bothering you. Do you want to tell me about it? I assume it concerns Samantha Howard.”

  Colt remained silent for a long time, favoring Dolly with a speculative glance. At length he said, “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Dolly. If you really want to help you’ll keep your ears and eyes open. I don’t trust the Logans. If you see or hear anythin’ of value tell Jim Blake.”

  “That gunslinger! He works for old man Logan.”

  “He’s my partner, workin’ undercover.”

  “Well I’ll be hanged.”

  “I’m tellin’ you ‘cause I trust you. And ‘cause I want you to do somethin’ for me should I… fail to return.” He drew an envelope from his shirt and lay at the foot of the bed. “A Ranger’s life is precarious at best. Should somethin’ unforeseen happen to me, give this to Sam.” He had meant to give it to Jim but had forgotten.

  “What is it?”

  “The deed to the Circle H. It’s rightfully hers anyway. There’s also a will leavin’ the balance of my estate to Laura.”

  “Your sister? But I thought…”

  “I found her, Dolly, with Sam in the Indian village. She’s stayin’ out at the ranch with Sam.”

  “Sure, Colt, I’ll see to it,” Dolly said, accepting the envelope with a certain reluctance. “Anything else?”

  “Nope. You’re quite a woman, Dolly Douglas and I’m … sorry about…”

  “Forget it, Colt.” Dolly shrugged. “I hope things work out for you and Sam.”

  “Not likely,” he muttered. But Dolly was already out the door and did not hear him.

  Two days passed before Jim Blake found the opportunity to visit the ranch according to Colt’s wishes. As it happened he had a legitimate reason to do so—one that satisfied his employers as well as served his own purpose. The same day that Colt left Karlsburg, Calvin Logan summoned Jim to his office. Vern sat across the room, puffing on a stogie.

  “I’ve got a job for you, Blake,” Calvin said. Immediately Jim’s wits sharpened.

  “Sure, boss, whatever you say,” Jim agreed, trying not to sound too eager.

  Vern smiled thinly. “As long as the price is right.”

  Calvin leveled a quelling look at his son before turning back to Blake. “I want you to get out to the Circle H and hire on as a ranch hand.”

  “What if they ain’t hirin’?”

  “Use your brains, man. Surely there’s some skill you can impress them with,” Vern snorted, earning himself another sharp rebuke from his father.

  “Say I do get hired, what then?” Jim asked.

  “Find out all you can about Steven Colter, the new owner,” Calvin directed. “I want to know why he’s never showed up after he bought the place and just how interested he is in keeping the ranch. If the foreman knows how to get in touch with Colter, I’d like to know. I want that ranch.”

  “Any particular reason?” Jim asked with deceptive innocence.

  Calvin eyed him with a measure of distrust. “Just do as I say, you’re being well paid to follow orders without asking questions.”

  “Sure thing, boss, you’ll be hearin’ from me soon.” Jim rose to leave, only to be stopped when Vern jumped to his feet, placing a restraining hand on the Ranger’s arm.

  “One more thing, Blake. I want to know what’s goin’ on out there with Samantha Howard. I understand Ranger Andrews brought her back from Injun territory. Find out what shape she’s in. Knowin’ the Comanches, I reckon they made good use of her durin’ the time she was their prisoner, if you get my meanin’. Serves her right, the little bitch,” Vern spat. “She made me look like a coward. The whole damn town is laughin’ at me. She could have been my wife and well fixed for life if she hadn’t turned down my offer of marriage. She made a damn whore outta herself by beddin’ that Ranger.”

  “That’s enough, Vern,” Calvin admonished stern ly. “Blake isn’t interested in your private life. Go on, Blake, keep in touch.”

  Shielding her eyes against the sun, Sam watched the lanky cowboy ride up toward the house. His hat was pulled low over his forehead, shading his face, and the six-shooters strapped to his slim waist and tied down around his thighs sent Sam’s heart racing. Colt! Had he come back to tell her that he … he what? Certainly not that he loved her. Her pulse beat like a triphammer until she realized with keen disappointment that the man approaching was a stranger. She fidgeted nervously while he reined in before her and dismounted. Something about him made her rest her hand on the gun strapped to her own slim waist.

  “Howdy, ma’am,” Jim said, doffing his hat politely.

  Eyeing his guns warily, Sam nodded, waiting for him to state his business. Suddenly Laura appeared at Sam’s side, lending her support.

  Jim’s dark eyes slid from Sam to Laura, having no difficulty identifying Colt’s sister. The dark one had to be Samantha Howard, the woman who had his friend going around in circles, and Jim could easily see why. Though Laura was a beautiful woman, Sam was stunning. Never had he seen eyes that particular shade of violet. He felt himself drawn into their mysterious depths, lost to an emotion totally foreign to him. Could it be he was experiencing some of the same magic she wove around Colt?

  “What do you want?” Sam asked rudely when the stranger continued to stare at her with unabashed interest.

  “Sor
ry, ma’am,” Jim apologized, removing his hat. Rich brown hair gleamed darkly in the sunlight, momentarily distracting Sam. “I don’t mean to be rude but it ain’t often I see two beautiful women at one time.”

  Sam suppressed a smile but said nothing. “Are you the owner of this ranch?” Jim asked, feigning ignorance.

  “No,” Sam said tighdy, refusing to elaborate.

  “Then you’re the lady of the house,” Jim grinned cheekily.

  “N … no, not exactly,” Sam stuttered, flushing.

  Laura came to her rescue. “What exactly is your business, Mr….”

  “Jim, Jim Blake, ma’am. I’m lookin’ for work. I reckon a ranch this size can always use another hand.”

  “Are you from these parts, Mr. Blake?”

  “Nope,” Jim admitted. “Been travelin’ some and decided to setde for a spell. This looks to be as good a place as any.”

  “You’ll have to speak to the foreman, Mr. Blake,” Sam advised. “He does the hiring around here in the owner’s absence. And if I’m not mistaken, that’s Jake riding in now.”

  Jake recognized Jim Blake instantly. Though Jake had never been a Ranger, they had met while fighting in the Mexican War. The three men had formed a lasting friendship. Jake knew Jim was in town, so he was not unduly surprised to see him.

  “Jim!” he greeted, slapping him on the back, “you old cuss. Been wonderin’ when you’d pay us a call.”

  “You two know each other? I … I, thought you were a drifter,” Sam said.

  Laura echoed her sentiments.

  Chuckling, Jake revealed, “Far from it. Jim is a Texas Ranger workin’ with Colt. I know Colt trusts both of you, so I don’t mind tellin’ you all this.”

  “You’re the partner Colt mentioned,” Sam said, comprehension dawning. “Is Colt all right?”

  Jim did not miss the note of anxiety in Sam’s voice and was shocked at the twinge of jealousy he felt. “Colt’s fine. He’s on his way to Laredo.”

  “Laredo!” Sam repeated stupidly. “Colt’s in Laredo?”

  “He’s been ordered to Laredo to investigate rumors that the Crowders are raid in’ down by the border. He left before he could get back here and tell you about it.”