Luke's Cut

by Sarah McCarty

  Looking at the ranch, she sighed. “Why is the choice always lover or husband? Why is it never friend?”

  *

  THE SMALL CARAVAN pulled into the yard. From the corral a colt nickered a greeting just as Bella waddled from the house. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a chignon. Luke could see the lines of strain hovering around her big brown eyes, but her smile was as beautiful as ever. Behind her hurried her mother, Bettina. She was an older, more reserved version of Bella.

  “You know the doctor told you you’re not supposed to be out of bed, Bella,” she fussed.

  With her hands on the small of her back, Bella dismissed the concern. “I have been waiting forever for Tia to get here. A few minutes will not harm.”

  From the look on her mother’s face, she didn’t agree.

  Tia’s expression mirrored Bettina’s. Very carefully she hugged Bella, before putting her hand on her belly.

  From where he was unhitching the team, Ed waved. Bella waved back, her face alight with joy. “I am so glad you are here but, Ed, what has happened to you?”

  “I lost the argument.”

  “He will be fine, Bella,” Tia soothed.

  Luke pulled Glory to a halt. He set the brake and wrapped the reins around the holder. “Hola, Bella.”

  “Luke!”

  In typical Bella fashion, she started to rush over. He stopped her with an upraised hand. “Stay there. I’ll come to you.”

  She laughed. “I am not so delicate that I cannot greet family.”

  “Humor me.” He hopped down. “Sam would kill me if you dropped his son here in the courtyard.”

  “Sons,” she corrected, beaming with pride.

  “Whoa!” That put a hitch in his step. No wonder Sam was worried. “Twins?”

  “Yes. Can you believe it? We wondered when I was so big, but then we could feel each move.” She rubbed her belly. “After so much time and worry we might not be able to have babies, now we will have two.”

  Luke hugged her even more carefully than Tia had. Against his stomach, he felt a kick. “What the heck?”

  “Do not be silly, they, too, say hello.”

  He really didn’t know how he felt about that. Before he recovered, she was looking over his shoulder. “And who is this you brought with you?”

  “This is Josie Kinder,” Tia explained. “She is a wonderful photographer. She has agreed to take pictures of our babies.”

  Bella clapped her hands. “I have heard of such things. I cannot wait to see how it is done.”

  Following his lead, Josie held up her hand. “Just wait—I’ll come to you.”

  Bella had to wait a little longer for Josie to come, her skirts getting stuck on the brake handle. Then it was Luke’s turn to say, “Hold on.” She freed her skirts just as he reached the wagon. She looked beautiful standing there with the sun shining on her hair, an embarrassed flush on her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. She was so cute when she was flustered.

  “Come here.”

  Catching her by the waist, he lifted her down. She immediately started fussing with her clothing. Catching her chin on the side of his finger he lifted her gaze to his. The softness of her lips begged his touch. The anxiety in her gaze demanded his comfort.

  Why is it never friend?

  He didn’t have an answer. Touching his thumb to her lips, he told her, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  Her breath was moist against the pad of his thumb. He wanted that heat against his lips, his neck, his chest, his cock. Why was it never friends? Because he wanted so much more than that.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, her fingers fussing with her skirt. “I’m not usually welcomed by people like this.”

  “Like this?”

  “You know.” She glanced at the house.

  She was intimidated by the Montoya wealth.

  Because he couldn’t do anything else, because he had to do something, he pressed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip in a subtle kiss, reminding her of what had gone before, of what he’d said before. “I promise.”

  She visibly relaxed. When he stepped back, he could feel Bella’s curiosity. He could only hope she didn’t blurt out something damaging. Things with Josie were tenuous right now. He thought that time after the tornado had been a beginning, opened a door to more, but in many ways, it’d closed the only one he cared about. He needed to come up with a new plan.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Montoya,” Josie said, crossing the dusty yard with her head held high.

  Bella smiled. “It’s MacGregor, actually, but I understand your confusion. The men call me La Montoya.” With a grimace she confessed, “I am sort of named after the ranch. It would be embarrassing if it did not make me feel so grand.” She caught Josie’s hand in hers. “You, however, must call me Bella.” Turning, she indicated Bettina. “And this is my mother, Bettina Montoya.”

  “It is my pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Montoya.”

  Bettina was much more reserved. “The pleasure is mine.” She turned to her daughter. “And now that the pleasantries are over, you, mi hija, need to be back in bed.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “I am sick of this bed.”

  “Your boredom is of no matter.”

  Bella nodded. “I know, I must do for my children if I would give my Sam strong sons.”

  “And you will,” Tia interrupted, “but to do that you must rest.”

  Standing where he was, Luke intercepted the look Tia shared with Ed. She was worried.

  “Not too much,” Bella countered. “I have had a feast prepared. If you do not mind the informality, we can have a picnic in my room and you can join me. We will eat and talk of your journey and I will discover how this picture taking is done.”

  The look Josie cast him was equally as concerned as Tia’s but for entirely different reasons. Luke shrugged and motioned her in.

  The women escorted Bella into the house, hovering around her in a protective cloud. When the door closed behind them, Luke headed back to unharness Glory. Ed shook his head from where he was taking care of his own team. “Sam must be out of his mind with worry. Twins are a dangerous prospect.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what Sam would do without his Bella.”

  All of Hell’s Eight had been worried about Sam that year before he’d met Bella. He’d always been the wild card in any fight, always willing to take a risk, but that last year the risks had gotten too frequent and too big. It was as if something had been eating him from the inside out. Bella seemed to not only understand that wildness, but she stabilized it and reshaped it into purpose. Watching them together was like watching a perfectly choreographed dance. They were deeply in love. And it showed.

  “Let’s hope we never have to find out.”

  Unhitching Glory from the wagon, Luke walked him to the water trough. Both the trough and the water were clean. He wasn’t surprised. Sam was meticulous about everything he cared about. Ed brought over the gray. The two horses drank companionably.

  Luke leaned against the corral fence and rubbed at the stitches Tia had put in his gash. They’d reached the itching stage. Ed leaned opposite where he stood.

  “You’re not coming back to Hell’s Eight after this, are you?”

  Ed was always direct. Luke admired that quality. “Things have changed.”

  “Evasion is as good as a no.”

  He supposed it was. “It doesn’t feel like there’s anything there for me anymore.”

  “There’s your family.”

  “They’re settled.”

  “And you want more.”

  “I don’t know if more is the right word.”

  Ed pulled his pipe out of his pocket. “What would be the right one then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Packing his tobacco into the pipe, he struck a sulfur on his boot. Putting it to the bowl, he took a few puffs. “Is that an evasion?”

  “No.”

  For a few minutes silence reigned. Ed was the
first to break it.

  “It makes sense, you know.”

  “It does?” It sure as hell didn’t make sense to him.

  “You’ve been giving Hell’s Eight everything you’ve had since you were a child. They’ve been your world, but now everyone is settling down, splintering off into families of their own.”

  Smoke drifted between them, filling the space with the sweet earth scent. Luke cocked an eyebrow at Ed. “Are you telling me I need to grow up?”

  Ed took another puff before pointing the stem at him.

  “I’m telling you you’ve delayed finding your place long enough, so when this is over—” his hand swept the horizon “—go out there and find it.”

  “Are you kicking me out?”

  “Without a lick of guilt.”

  Well, damn.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SHE FELT LIKE an intruder beside the big four-poster bed where Bella sat propped on a mound of pillows looking like a queenly sprite who’d inadvertently swallowed a watermelon. It wasn’t that anyone did anything to make her feel uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. They tried painfully hard to make her feel included, but that was easier said than done. Years of making oneself invisible, especially to those who lived in houses like this, had cultivated all the wrong skills for proper social interaction.

  Instead of feeling included in the happy camaraderie, Josie was vividly conscious of how drab her brown dress was, how plain her bun looked compared to Bella’s chignon, how completely boring and inappropriate most of her life stories were. Hearing how Bella had stood her ground against bandits and saved Sam’s wolf dog, Kel, made her realize how odd her upbringing had been. She knew which fork to use when and how to use the proper address no matter what a person’s station. She could even hold a proper conversation while pouring tea. The difficulty there was that the only compelling story she had was about how her fiancé had played her for a fool and essentially stood her up at the alter for another woman. Which, of course, violated another one of society’s rules.

  One never aired one’s dirty laundry in public, which lowered her conversational participation to a one sentence gambit of “We came to realize we were not suited.” After five years, no one believed it was that simple or clean. Especially not her.

  Ugh. This had to change. She couldn’t be this pathetic and continue to look at herself in the mirror. In her imagination, she was so much more daring and exciting, a heroine worth innumerable pages in one of Dane Savage’s novels. In reality, she was the woman sitting in a borrowed dining room chair, unobtrusively inching her way to the door.

  Looking at Bella, who from what she’d overheard might very well lose these babies along with her life, she felt ashamed. Bella wasn’t cowering or bemoaning her situation. She was laughing and smiling, enjoying whatever time she had. Was she happy to be confined to the bed? Of course not, but she didn’t cave to her circumstances or complain. Instead she was holding court, inspiring laughter and lighting up the room with her spirit. Josie had yet to meet her husband, Sam, but she would bet he was a very happy man. It was no wonder he protected his treasure so thoroughly. Bella was sunshine brought to life. Josie didn’t necessarily want to be sunshine, but she’d like to at least be a flicker of light.

  I’m putting my name at the top of your dance card.

  The memory came unbidden as all of her memories of Luke seemed to, sneaking past her guard. Playing with a loose thread on her sleeve, she cut a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He sat in a chair much closer to the bed, the remnants of his meal on a plate in his lap. In his own way, he was as vibrant as Bella. Josie had no idea what he saw in her unless it was an easy conquest. It hurt her pride to remember just how easy she’d been for him. It hurt her heart to know it would never happen again. She had her pride. Not to mention a strong, if belated, sense of self-preservation. She scooted her chair back another inch. It was probably the tenth time in the last forty-five minutes.

  Of course Luke chose that moment to turn her way. Getting caught staring always sent panic flashing through her. Getting caught staring like a lovesick cow was just humiliating. Oh yes, her mother had taught her well. Don’t look. Don’t draw attention. Don’t hope. Don’t be the person that makes them remember. Don’t be you.

  As no convenient hole opened in the floor, she had no choice but to brazen it out. Full panic didn’t lead to her best thinking. With an arrogance she’d seen him use, she arched her brows and tilted up her chin, doing her best to provoke. She didn’t need anyone’s pity. She expected anger. Instead, he smiled. A soft intimate smile that hinted at understanding and support. He approved of her bravado, she realized. This time when she inched her chair back it was because of shock.

  And she promptly froze as the perspective came into focus. There it was. Right there. The picture she’d been looking for. A perfect tableau of hope and love. Bella, sitting on the bed, looked like a Madonna. Sunbeams dancing and playing with her expression, flirting with her smile, hinting at the shadow. The sun played the same game with her family, highlighting the hopes of some while dropping others into somber shadow. And there was love. So much love. This was the picture she’d come here to take. This was the moment she needed to capture. With a soft “Excuse me” she got up.

  It was easy to make her escape. They were in the middle of a story about Boone stealing Sunday dinner and Sam’s Kel catching him in the act. It was one that left them all howling with laughter as she slipped away. Out of the room, she breathed deeply. Free of social expectation, she could let her mind sink into the coming photo. She’d need the special plates she’d prepared for low-light settings. And the lower tripod. She didn’t want the shot straight on. She wanted Bella centered and elevated. Lost in her thoughts, she took a wrong turn. Instead of the foyer, she ended up in what looked to be a library.

  “Well, shoot.”

  “Want some help?” The deep drawl came from behind her.

  Luke. She hadn’t even noticed he’d followed her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought you might need a hand.”

  “With what?”

  “The picture you’re about to take.” His brow cocked. “That is why you got that intense expression before jumping up and rushing out of the room, isn’t it?”

  “I rushed?”

  His smile was gentle. “Like a scalded cat.”

  So much for her discreet exit. “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry, I made your excuses.”

  She gathered a fold of her skirt in her hand. “What did you tell them?”

  He took her hand. His thumb rubbed the back the way she’d been rubbing the skirt. “That you’re about to make magic.”

  “That might have been an exaggeration. I’m not even sure there’s enough light in the room. All I might get is a blank tintype.”

  “Josie?”

  She sighed. There was a world of patience packed into her name. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

  “No, but you are wasting time. As you told me before, light and clouds wait for no one.”

  “There are no clouds.”

  He steered her down the hallway. “I was being creative. It sounded better than light and people.”

  “Oh.”

  In under a minute he had her through the front door and outside her wagon. Opening the back doors, he asked, “Do you need help?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because I’m not sure I’d fit in there.”

  She eyed him absentmindedly, focused instead on the upcoming shoot. “Not standing up at least.”

  It just popped out. His bark of laughter as he grasped her waist and set her on the mattress made her realize how her comment could be taken.

  The impression of his touch lingered after he took his hands away. So did the gleam of his smile. “I meant—”

  “I know what you meant.” With a wave of his hand he indicated the trunks. “Get what you need. We can talk about my much more interesting version of your proposal la
ter.”

  “But…”

  “The light’s changing as we speak.”

  Darn it, he was right. She didn’t have time to waste. Ignoring the smothering heat, she opened the trunk lids with trepidation. The journey up here had been rough. There was no telling if her tintypes or the camera itself had survived. As quickly as she could, she unpacked the box that held her supplies. Sawdust fell to the floor as she laid out her necessities on the mattress. A quick check showed everything was in good shape. She quickly added the specially treated tintypes to her box. Checking the camera lens and mirror for dust, she wiped them with the special brush she kept handy. Closing the box carefully, she stood.

  “All set?” Luke asked.

  She nodded.

  “Then pass that over and let’s get moving.”

  The box was heavy with the extra tintypes. She levered more than lifted it to the edge of the mattress. As if it weighed nothing, he set it on the ground. Grabbing the tripod, she prepared to hop down. He was there before her. Catching her by the waist, he swung her away from the edge of the wagon. Bracing her hand on his broad shoulders, she caught her balance. Beneath her palm his muscles flexed as he slowly lowered her down his body. And that fast, the wild feminine side of her made itself known in an eager gasp that ended on a moan as her hips dragged across his. He was hard.

  She bit her lip when her feet hit the ground. His smile was knowing. She was torn between wanting to hit him and wanting to sink into a puddle of willing mush at his feet. Neither was a good choice. Somehow, she found her voice to ask, “What are you doing?”

  His answer stole the resentment right out from under her feet. “Being your friend.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to expect it. Without further ado, he gathered up her equipment, took her hand and led her back to the house. His stride was longer than hers, causing her to skip every other step. Sweat broke out on her brow. It was only slightly cooler outside than in the wagon, and now that she thought about it, neither was ideal. She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. Had she closed the box? “Don’t worry. No one will bother your equipment.”