“How do you feel?” he asked as he took her hand in his.
“Maria says my fever has finally broken,” Judith said. “And my head doesn’t hurt half as bad as it did. I hope I’m at least sitting up by tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you will be, Mother.” Carter knelt beside her bed. “I’m glad to hear that your fever has broken. Hank said he’d be out to see you tonight,” Carter said as he pushed himself to his feet.
He wanted to give his mother a reassuring smile, but couldn’t “I have to ride out and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll see you when I return.” He turned to leave.
“She’s left us,” Judith said, simply.
Carter glanced back at his mother. He saw the tears in her eyes and he heard the sadness in her voice. He wanted to choke Mary for making them care about her. “I know.”
“Mary left me a note saying she’d remembered her identity," Judith told him. Carter was surprised that Mary had been so thoughtful.
Judith took a deep breath before she could continue. “I will miss her,” she whispered, then gave her son a soft smile. “But I have the feeling she’ll come back to us.”
Carter couldn’t bring himself to tell his mother the truth, not while she was sick. “Maybe she will,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing. “Get some rest so you can get well, and don’t worry about Mary,” he said.
Judith rewarded him with a smile, but Carter could see the tears she was trying not to shed. It was the same look she’d had after his sister’s death. It only added fuel to the fire burning in his chest.
Carter went straight to the stable and retrieved his horse. Then he went in search of Stanley. Carter found him pitching hay. “Have you seen Mary?”
Stanley stabbed the pitchfork into the ground and leaned against it. “Yep. She took the gray out for a ride. Should be back before long, I expect.”
Carter mounted his horse. “Which way did she go?”
Stanley pointed. "That way.”
Carter swung his mount around and rode off, but he did manage to hear Stanley say, “Don’t think she’s in trouble, do you?”
Carter could only laugh to himself at the last remark. “Trouble,” he said as he rode. The girl invented the word.” Now he could add horse thief to her other charges. As he settled his horse into a canter, he shook his head.
The stupid woman was headed in the wrong direction.
The mountains Mary rode through were beautiful, and the Ponderosa pines a lush green. She felt almost peaceful riding along surrounded by God’s beautiful land. She really wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this, she thought Maybe one day, if she could clear her name, it might be possible. The road finally opened up to a wide expanse of prairie covered in a rainbow of wildflowers, making her want to stop and breathe in the beautiful fragrance. And then she realized how stupid that thought was.
She was running for her life, not out for a lovely ride.
She’d pushed her mount hard for the first couple of hours, but she finally eased up, not wanting to exhaust the horse. She had discovered she had no idea which direction she needed to go, so she just rode in hopes of seeing anything that might look familiar.
By now Carter must have seen the wanted poster, and he’d know she’d been lying. She wondered if there was some small chance that Carter might think she was innocent. Or did he think like most lawmen, and could only see what appeared to be the truth?
She longed to stop and rest for a while. She was tired. It was as if all the problems resting on her shoulders were crushing into her. She couldn’t hold her head up. With that thought, she purposely straightened her back and lifted her head, determined that she wouldn’t be beaten.
Suddenly, the peace in the valley was broken by a horse’s whinny.
She heard hoofbeats.
Twisting in the saddle, she looked behind her and saw a lone rider headed toward her. He wore a light-colored Stetson. Even at a distance, his identity was unmistakable.
Carter!
Mary nudged her mount into a full gallop. The wind whipped at her hair, and she had to shove it out of her face to see. Then she glanced behind her again. Carter was gaining ground. His mount was faster than hers.
The ground began to tremble, and Mary knew it had nothing to do with Carter, but she wasn’t sure what the cause was. As she reached the top of the next rise, she found the reason. She jerked her horse to an abrupt stop.
A herd of buffalo was stampeding toward them, and in a few minutes she would be directly in their path. Her spooked horse reared, his hooves pawing the sky. Mary tried to hold on but she lost her seating and fell to the ground. There was no time to think as she scrambled to her feet. She turned and started running toward Carter. Her horse was racing that way, too. Of course, he didn’t stop when she called to him since she didn’t know his name.
Panic threatened to cut off her air supply, but Mary couldn’t stop because if she did, she’d be trampled. She looked up and would have laughed if she could. She was getting closer to Carter. Who would have thought she’d be running toward the law instead of away?
But her choices, at the moment, seemed slim. Carter would only shoot her—the buffalo would kill her inch by inch.
Carter couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Not only was Mary running toward him, there must be a thousand buffalo bearing down on her. The woman seemed to court danger in everything she did.
This time, she’d bitten off more than she could possibly chew.
He saw the black storm clouds in the distance and realized what had spooked the herd.
Mary didn’t stand a chance.
Buffalo were faster than horses, they could run longer than horses, and they never backed down unless they were frightened. That was Carter’s only hope. He had to scare them.
He didn’t stop his horse. Instead, he looped the reins around the saddle horn and braced his knees so he could get a good shot. Then he drew his Winchester rifle and fired up into the air. Slowly, the herd began to shift and run to the right of Mary.
For a moment, Carter couldn’t see Mary for all the dust. He kept riding toward the point where he’d last seen her. Finally, he saw her. He leaned down and reached for her, yelling, “Give me your hand.”
She grabbed his forearm, and Carter swung her up behind him, kicked his horse in the flanks, and then took off after her mount now that the danger had passed.
Carter felt Mary’s heavy breathing on his back as she tried to catch her breath. He hated to admit it, but it took a few minutes for his breathing to calm down, too. That had been a close call. Mary easily could have been killed, a thought that made him sick. But she was safe now, with her arms wrapped tightly around him.
By the time they reached her horse—or should she say Carter’s horse—Mary had quit shaking. She had never run so fast in her life. Knowing she was going to be trampled to death had given her wings. Somehow, she’d managed to escape without a scratch. It reminded her of the time she had almost drowned in the Missouri River. She looked heavenward. Maybe somebody up there was watching out for her.
Carter stopped his horse, then reached behind him and grabbed Mary’s arm to help her dismount. She slid effortlessly to the ground. Mary started to thank him for saving her life, but the look on Carter’s face stopped her.
And he had yet to let go of her arm.
She gazed up at him.
He warned her with a voice that gave her chills, “Don’t make me chase you again!” With that remark he released her.
Mary actually didn’t know what to say to him. After last night, when everything had been wonderful, it had been hard enough. But today, nothing was the same. She felt as if she were dreaming. Nothing had been normal for her since Big Jim’s death. But she was determined to say something to Carter or bust. Mary could see the disgust in his eyes, and she didn’t like it She had to hang on to the slim hope that he might listen to her.
“Is that all you have to say?” Mary asked.
“There is one more thing,” Carter said, shaking his head, “You’re under arrest, Mary Costner, for the murder of Jim McCoy.”
Mary flinched at the hardness in Carter’s eyes. So much for him listening to anything she had to say. She could tell by looking at Carter that he’d already made up his mind. She hadn’t been able to miss the way he’d stressed her last name to reveal that he now knew who she was. Her anger simmered as she glared at him.
How could he judge her when he knew nothing at all about her?
Carter was so mule-headed that he’d never listen to her side of the story. Mary drew a deep breath and shook her head. Why should she waste her breath? She jerked around and mounted her horse, determined not to say another word to him.
But once she was seated, she lost the battle with her mouth. “You’re not going to add horse thief to the charges?”
Carter almost smiled, but caught himself. He’d expected a river of tears. He’d expected her to tell him that she hadn’t murdered her partner. That she was innocent He’d love to know how many times he’d heard a crook utter those words.
But Mary hadn’t said any of that. Instead, that spirit of hers had kicked in, and Carter realized that she would never plead or beg for mercy. And she would always challenge him as she was doing now, so he said, “And horse thief.”
They rode silently, side by side, for a long time before Mary asked, “Does your mother know?” “My mother is still very sick,” Carter drawled.
“And yes, she knows that you are gone and is very upset that you ran out on her, too.”
Mary glared at Carter. “Only because I knew you wouldn’t listen.”
Carter grabbed her horse’s bridle and stopped both their mounts. He had murder in his eyes as he snapped, “What was there to listen to, Mary? More lies? You came into our home and pretended you didn’t know who you were, and I must say you were a damned good actress.” He saw the hurt in her eyes, but then again, it could all be an act.
Carter had thought he knew her, but he didn’t “What. You have nothing to say?” he taunted.
“I was brought into your home with little choice,” Mary shot back. “I wish the hell you’d left me where you found me.”
“That makes two of us, my dear.” Carter slid from his horse, then jerked Mary from hers. He was so angry, he shook her, demanding, “Why did you lie to me?”
Mary shoved against his chest and shrugged her arms to get Carter to loosen his grip. Her temper rose. She was tired of taking the blame for everything. “Think hard, Carter,” Mary exploded. “Did I lie to you? I don’t think so.” She paused for a moment, breathing hard. “I just never told you the complete truth, and the reason I didn’t was because I knew you would act exactly like you’re acting now,” she said in a rush, having to get the words out as quickly as possible to keep him from interrupting.
Then she went on, “You don’t want the truth! You couldn’t handle it if it hit you right between the eyes. You just need a prisoner to bring in so you can say you’ve done your job. Because that is what a good lawman does, isn’t it? He captures the bad guys. Or at least the ones he thinks are the bad guys.”
Every word Mary threw at Carter stung as if she’d slapped him. He was a damned good lawman who went after the slimy lawbreakers who threatened good people. How dare she challenge his motives!
Carter dragged Mary up against his body and glared down at her. A cynical inner voice cut through his thoughts. Why do you let this damned woman get under your skin?
But it was too late.
The admission was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason as his eyes raked boldly over her, stopping at her eyes. They glistened with anger. He saw the fire that made her who she was along with the passion smoldering just beneath the surface.
And the next thing Carter knew, he was kissing her. He wanted to punish Mary for making him feel all the things he felt for her.
He’d made three mistakes in his life.
The first one was letting his sister remain in that wagon. He’d paid for that mistake. Second, he’d picked this woman out of the snow. He was still paying for that one. But his third mistake was making love to a woman who could possibly hang for murder.
What would he do if they hung Mary?
He wanted—hell, he didn’t know what he wanted, and therein lay the problem.
Finally, Carter gentled his kisses and kissed her with a fear that he’d never kiss her again. He felt as if he were losing something very precious and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it
Mary had made her mistake when she’d taken someone else’s life. And, knowing this, he still held her.
Thunder rumbled all around them, but neither noticed until the first fat raindrops began to fall.
Carter’s mouth seized hers, stealing her breath and making Mary forget that he’d just arrested her. It was raining harder now.
Neither of them noticed.
All she could think about was what had happened last night and how wonderful she’d felt in Carter’s arms. Why couldn’t she have the one thing she wanted?
And then she remembered Big Jim’s words ...
“Ah, gal, do you not realize how lovely you are ? One day a man will simply take your breath away, and then you You’ll be wanting to get yourself hitched. ”
“I wouldn’t count on that, Jim. But if there is someone, he’s going to have to be one hell of a man to turn my head. ” Mary laughed. “ I’m pretty headstrong in case you haven’t noticed. ”
Jim laughed. “He’s out there somewhere, and I’ll bet when you first meet him, you won’t like him one dang bit. ”
As Mary savored the wild kisses, she now knew Jim’s words to be true. She didn’t like Carter. Unfortunately for her, she loved him, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it
Carter finally tore his mouth away. For one unguarded moment, Mary thought she saw something heartwarming in Carter’s eyes, before that hard mask settled over his features again.
Carter didn’t know what the devil he was doing. He was supposed to be arresting the woman, not kissing the hell out of her. What was it about Mary that flamed his desire until he couldn’t think logically? He was a trained lawman, for Christ’s sake, but the minute he touched her, it was an explosive combination that drove him beyond anything logical.
He pushed her rain-soaked hair from her face. “Tell me, was last night a lie, too?” Carter asked.
She didn’t answer.
He dropped his arms and stepped away from her. Mary could feel his warmth leaving her body as the rain plastered their clothes to them.
She stared back, trying to show her defiance, but she couldn’t maintain it. Finally, Mary broke down and cried. And then she hated herself for showing Carter her weakness.
The damned man!
Mary wanted to hurt Carter just as badly as he had hurt her. She had opened her heart and told him how she felt but he’d offered her nothing in return. He only wanted to think the worst, and now he wanted to use her to make him feel more like a man.
Looking at him through tears that blurred her vision, Mary said, “That is something you’ll never know.”
The thunderstorm passed as had their passion, and now they were both standing on the open plain shivering with the cold the rain had brought. There seemed to be an emptiness in both of them that neither of them knew how to handle.
Then they remounted and started back toward town. Cold, miserable, and lost in their own thoughts, they passed the rest of the journey in silence.
Mary felt the gulf between them widening, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted that but there wasn’t much she could do to change things. Carter was a marshal and she was his prisoner. Nothing would change the fact that they were enemies.
When they arrived at the sheriff’s office, they dismounted and Carter pushed her in front of him as he escorted her into the jailhouse.
As she preceded him, Mary wondered if he thought she’d really make a run for it wi
th him wearing a gun. What he didn’t know was that if she had a gun she probably would have made a run for it, because she was pretty damn good with a gun.
Inside the office it took a few minutes for Mary’s eyes to adjust from the sunlight to the darker interior, then she looked around. Sheriff O’Tool was sitting behind his desk talking to a man who had his back to them. Rick stood with his arm propped on the window ledge, watching the two men at the desk.
It was the perfect humiliation, Mary thought. Not only were the two people she knew going to see her locked up, but now a perfect stranger, who was slowly turning her direction, would witness the whole thing.
Chapter Thirteen
“Thunder!” Mary cried out.
She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“It’s all right, kid, I’m here now,” Thunder said.
Carter watched as Mary draped herself all over the stranger who had his damned arms wrapped around her in a very familiar way. Hank was still seated at the desk, and Rick was still propped in his favorite spot by the window. The stranger didn’t seem to be bothering either of them. Carter’s jaw tightened. “Who the hell are you?”
The man stepped away from Mary. “You must be Monroe. I heard you were ornery.”
Carter hadn’t moved. “Among other things,” he said, his tone as cold as ice. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
“That’s right, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Thomas Bradley, but I’m called Thunder.” Thunder didn’t extend his hand. He could see that Carter definitely had a burr under his saddle, and somehow he figured Mary was that burr.
“Strange name,” Carter said.
“I was raised by the Cheyenne.”
“Hmmph,” Carter grunted then asked, “What can I do for you?”
“Mary is Thunder’s sister,” Rick said.
Whispers on the Wind Page 14
