Velvet Thunder

by Teresa Howard

  Stevie noticed Heath’s strange behavior and decided it was because they had come to the end of the road. It couldn’t be because he suspected she was pregnant. She had just come to that realization herself a few days ago. And she had been very careful to keep the fact from him. His problem was undoubtedly that the threat to Adobe Wells was over, his job was complete, and he would be leaving soon.

  She might never see him again. Her heart felt like a lump of coal in her chest. “I can hardly believe it’s the same town,” she observed absently. “I never dreamed things would return to normal so fast.”

  Instead of the brigands and gunslicks she had become accustomed to seeing, the local folks were going about their normal day: farmers and their runny-nosed broods, cowboys in town for supplies, ladies doing their weekly marketing. It should have been a comforting sight, but it wasn’t. Normalcy meant that they no longer needed the handsome U.S. marshal who had stolen her heart. At least she would have his baby to remember him by.

  “When the money dries up, bad men go elsewhere.”

  Stevie barely heard Jay’s observation. Her thoughts were full of the change that had come over Heath since last evening. He had been polite to her at best. She shouldn’t be surprised that he wasn’t his usual charming self, she scolded herself. Since his job was finished and he was leaving town, he wanted to erect an emotional barrier so their parting wouldn’t be more painful than necessary, she reasoned. Actually, she should appreciate his efforts, not be hurt by them.

  Just as she shouldn’t be hurt by the fact that he had stopped proposing marriage to her. After all, how many times could a man be rejected before he gave up? Obviously, Heath had reached that limit. She wished he would ask again, if for no other reason than to reassure her of his love. Still, if he proposed right now, she doubted her answer would be yes. What a fickle woman she had become!

  Confused and disheartened, she rode ahead of him. Reining in at Pilar’s boardinghouse, she slid from the saddle without waiting for Heath’s aid.

  He was still frowning when she disappeared into the house. Moments later, Donn Pedro brought him a telegram. He thanked the child automatically and smiling Pedro went on his way. “What now?” Heath groused, staring at the telegram as if it were a two-headed viper.

  Jay understood his partner’s ill humor and ignored it. “Probably from the captain, calling us to Santa Fe for our next assignment.”

  “We haven’t finished this job yet,” Heath verbalized the obvious harshly, casting an unconscious glance toward the house.

  Jay’s expression soured. “Don’t remind me.” He took the reins of all three horses in his hands. “I’ll find fresh horses while you tell her you’re leaving.”

  Heath nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want to leave Stevie, but he would be back. He tried to reassure himself. When he opened his eyes, he was alone. He shoved his hat off his head with two fingers and moved to the porch swing, out of the brilliant sunlight. He remained standing as he ripped open the telegram.

  It read:

  HEATH. STOP. THE GENERAL HAS TAKEN A TURN FOR THE WORSE. STOP. COME HOME RIGHT AWAY. STOP. YOUR BROTHER, CHAP.

  It was dated the day they left town, four days earlier. His knees weakened and he sat abruptly. The swing creaked under his dead weight. Fear, stark and vivid, swept through him. His stomach clenched into double knots of denial. Icy panic twisted around his heart. For a moment he feared he might faint. He drew deep, cleansing breaths through his mouth until his physical world righted itself somewhat.

  He knew Chap was no alarmist. And he was a damn good doctor. For him to send such a telegram, their father must be gravely ill. Panic returned like a monstrous swell.

  A thought—quick and devastating—drained the color from his tanned face. Like a poised cobra, it rose unbidden in his mind, striking before he could erect a defense against it; perhaps his father was already dead. The possibility tore at his insides, threatening to shatter his fragile control.

  A groan of despair slipped past his lips. He dropped his head into his hands and stared at the flooring beneath his booted feet with unseeing eyes. He didn’t just love his father, he worshipped him. The real possibility of losing him was almost more than he could bear.

  “Heath?”

  Stevie’s concerned voice came to him as if from a long way off. He raised his head slowly, met her concerned gaze, but couldn’t speak.

  She stood before him, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

  Her tender concern was his undoing. He wrapped strong arms around her waist and pulled her to him roughly, burying his face in the pillow of her breasts. She was the only solid object in his voidless world of despair.

  He embraced her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. When she sifted her fingers through his hair and whispered nonsensical reassurances, he relaxed slightly.

  She tried to absorb his mental anguish and make his pain her own.

  After what seemed an eternity, he regained full control. He handed her the telegram as an explanation of his strange behavior.

  Taking a seat beside him, she read the message quickly.

  “Oh, Heath. I’m so sorry.” The sight of him struggling to hide his fear gripped her heart in a vise. “I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

  Her simple reassurance was surprisingly convincing. He held on to the solace and reached for her hand.

  Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, she offered him a bolstering smile. “You did say he was invincible.”

  Heath realized then how much he needed Stevie. Not just for love or lust, sex or seduction, but as the other half of his being. He didn’t want to face the future without her. More to the point, he didn’t want to face what awaited him in New York without her. His voice was raspy with emotion when he said, “Come with me.”

  Stevie was awash with conflicting emotions. “Why?”

  “Because I need you.” He remembered a long-ago promise he had made to himself, to remove Stevie and the children from this area before Indians and whites engaged in all-out war. This was his chance to do that. And God knows he couldn’t bear the prospect of leaving her behind.

  Stevie could think of a million reasons to refuse, but all that came to mind was “The children need me too.”

  “We’ll take them with us.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly. We can’t take two children to New York.” The unspoken words, two Indian children, were thick in the air.

  He misunderstood her hesitation purposefully. “Blue can go along to help.”

  The picture of Heath waltzing into his New York mansion with his pregnant half-breed paramour, two Indian children, and a reformed hurdy-gurdy girl in tow was almost enough to make Stevie laugh. Almost. But too much was at stake to make light of the situation. “Have you forgotten that I’m part Indian?”

  “I’ve told you I don’t care about that, dammit.” He sounded more harsh than intended. His nerves were raw pieces of meat. His father needed him and he needed him now. He didn’t have the time or patience to argue with her. She had to go with him. That was the beginning and the end of it.

  “I’m sorry about your father. But, Heath, I can’t go home with you. You have to leave right away. There’s just too much unsettled between us. I’m not sure of my place in your life—if I even have a place in your life.”

  “You know damn well that you do.” His voice was so full of conviction, Stevie was momentarily speechless.

  Finally, she found her voice. It was very soft when she said, “Then maybe when your father is better, you can come back. Then maybe . . .” She trailed off.

  Not willing to let it lie, he pushed his advantage. “I love you, Stevie. I’ve made no secret of that. And I know that you love me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll stop being so stubborn, you’ll admit that marriage is the only logical conclusion to our love affair. Why should I have to come back? Why can’t you come with me now?”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he placed
his fingers over her lips.

  “I’m sorry that we don’t have time to marry before we go. My family in New York needs me.” He smiled at her gently. “But I need my family in New Mexico. I need you, and Winter, and the baby. Please say you’ll go.”

  Stevie couldn’t hide the confusion in her eyes. She wanted to say yes. God knows, she did. Especially when she remembered the baby slumbering beneath her heart, Heath’s baby.

  She had been reared by one parent for most of her life. And she was the only parent Winter knew. She wanted better for her baby. She wanted him to have every possible chance in life, not just financial, but emotional as well. Most of all, she wanted him to know both his parents. But she couldn’t go with Heath, not now, maybe later. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke. “I just can’t. Not now.”

  Heath’s pain was visible. But he wouldn’t beg. “No, Stevie. You can. You just won’t.”

  She knew she should say something. But what could she say?

  “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don’t love me,” Heath said.

  She covered her sob with a hand and ran into the house.

  Heath stared at the floor through a mist of emotion. Whether he was hurting for Stevie, his father, or himself, he didn’t know; perhaps it was for all three.

  Jay cleared his throat, announcing his presence, allowing Heath a moment to regain his composure before he stepped up onto the porch.

  Silently, Heath handed him the telegram Stevie had thrown on the floor when she made her exit. Jay read it silently. “I’m sorry, buddy. But he’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

  Heath merely nodded.

  Jay rested a hip against the portal railing, crossing his feet in front of him. “Judge Jack’s body’s missing.”

  This got Heath’s attention, took his mind off his personal problems. “What did you say?”

  “Judge Jack’s body’s missing. But I think I know where he is.”

  “Hell?” Heath supplied.

  “Afraid not. McGahee said he heard the judge and Rachel talking about going to New York after they pulled off the swindle.”

  “Surely, you don’t think the bastard’s still alive.”

  “That’s exactly what I think. It would explain the paper clippings in the valises. He fooled Rachel and made off with the money himself.”

  Heath had to admit that it made sense. His analytical mind whirred. “When I wire Chap that I’m on my way home, I’ll send a message to the New York office to be on the lookout for the judge.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “Soon as I say good-bye to Stevie. I’ll reach Delgado’s by nightfall. Take the morning stage to Kansas City, then continue by rail.” He told Jay each of his stops, in case he had news of Rachel.

  Jay’s soft drawl hardened with contempt at the thought of Rachel. “I’d better get packing if I’m to reach Two Forks by dark. I don’t intend to let her trail get cold.”

  Inside the house, Stevie—the snoop, she derided herself—gripped the doorjamb. Judge Jack—the rotten bastard—was still alive. The man who had killed her brother, had her father shot, and stolen their home. He was alive. More than likely, living the high life in New York with money stolen from decent people. She took the stairs two at a time. Her decision was made before she burst through the door to Blue’s bedchamber. “I need your help.”

  “Sit down and get your breath,” Blue said. “Now. Who do I have to kill?”

  “Don’t tease me now, Blue. This is important.”

  Blue’s smile slipped away. “Anything. All you have to do is ask.”

  “Will you take care of Winter and the baby for me?” Her voice broke, the thought of leaving her children tearing her apart. But she’d never be able to face them—or herself—if she didn’t see this thing out with Judge Jack.

  “You know I will. Where are you going?”

  “New York.”

  Misunderstanding, Blue’s smile was genuine. “With Heath?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Stevie?” she invited her to continue.

  “Judge Jack’s alive. Jay and Heath think he’s in New York.”

  “And Heath plans to catch him.”

  “I suppose.”

  “And he’s going to let you go with him and help?” Blue’s voice was incredulous.

  “He won’t know I’m along.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “I figure if I can keep him in sight, I can follow him to New York. Sight unseen. Once I get there, I’ll find the rotten bastard.” There was no doubt she referred to Judge Jack. “And when I do, I’ll kill him.” Blue looked as if she would argue. “For Jeff” was all Stevie needed to say.

  “What’ll you use for money?”

  “I still have the five hundred dollars I withdrew from the bank to hire Heath.”

  “That’ll take care of your finances. But what’ll you tell your pa?”

  “Nothing. Now that we’ve got the ranch back, he’s out scouring the countryside, searching for hired hands. By the time he returns to Adobe Wells, I’ll be long gone.”

  “Pilar will sit on you if you try to leave again.”

  “She won’t know I’m leaving. She rode out to the Boone’s with Sully before daybreak. Mrs. Boone’s having her baby. By the time Pilar gets back to town, I’ll be gone.” She continued methodically, telling Blue that she planned to throw her few belongings in a soft-sided valise, find Heath and tell him a final good-bye, then take a carriage to Delgado’s after he left town. She would hire a horse when Heath boarded the stage, and follow him to Kansas City. She would catch the same train as he and keep him in sight all the way to New York. She wasn’t a complete fool. She knew women didn’t travel cross-country alone. With Heath nearby, albeit unaware of her presence, she should be safe.

  “Are you going to tell him you’re carrying his child?”

  Stevie gasped. “How did you know?”

  Blue merely smiled. Instead of answering Stevie’s question, she asked one of her own. “Stevie, why can’t you trust Heath? As far as I can tell, he’s never done anything to deserve your mistrust. And if your problem is that you’re Indian . . . well, I heard how the townspeople accepted you at the dance. Why can’t you just commit to him, take the train with him, and go to New York as his fiancée?”

  Those were excellent questions, questions Stevie had no good answers for.

  Just then Winter entered the room, saving her from having to reply. Sympathetic to Stevie’s dilemma, Blue left them alone. It was nigh onto impossible for Stevie to tell her child good-bye without breaking down. “I must do this. Judge Jack has insulted our honor and I must make him pay.”

  Winter tried to be brave. “Please let me go with you, pia. I will protect you.”

  Stevie wrapped him in her arms and sat on the end of the bed. “I know you would. But I need you here, to help Blue with your little sister. Can you do this for me?”

  Both mother and child were crying freely now. “I can do this for you,” Winter vowed with a raspy whisper. His next question nearly broke her heart. “Will you bring Heath back when you come home? He lives in my heart.”

  She couldn’t make promises regarding Heath, promises that she might not be able to keep. So she hedged, “He lives in my heart as well.” Smiling sadly, she brushed Winter’s tears away. “We have to go tell him good-bye. You must not tell him that I plan to go along and help him. It might insult his honor.”

  Winter understood. Sliding to the floor, he took her by the hand and led her to Summer’s cradle. With the baby snug in her arms, they went in search of Heath.

  Heath stepped inside the foyer as Stevie and the children topped the staircase. They moved slowly toward him. He noticed that both Winter and Stevie had been crying. For a moment he feared that his hard-won equanimity would dissolve and he would embarrass them all.

  “We’ve come to say good-bye,” Stevie said more calmly than Heath would have wished.

  Heath dropped onto one knee before Winter. With
love shining in his sapphire eyes, he touched the child’s cheek. “I will miss you.”

  Winter covered his heart with a small hand. “You will be in here.”

  Heath wrapped the child in his arms and held him close. “That pleases me,” he said against Winter’s hair. They held each other, man and boy, for a moment. Heath leaned back and stared down into eyes as black as midnight. “I will come back. You have my word.”

  Winter nodded tersely before wrenching away and running out the door.

  Stevie stood breathlessly still. The guilt of leaving her children warred with the elation that she was not really saying good-bye to Heath. “He’ll be all right.”

  He came to his feet. Smiling off center, he quipped emotionally, “But will I?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Yes. You’ll be fine.”

  With a low moan issuing forth from his lips, he wrapped his arms around her and Summer just as he had Winter. Rocking back and forth, he dropped kisses into Stevie’s hair. His hand trembled as he stroked the baby’s head. “I’m going to miss you so damn much. But I will be back. I don’t know how long it’ll take me, but I will be back.” He kissed Stevie almost violently, dropped a kiss on Summer’s head, then held Stevie at arm’s length. “You promise to wait for me?” Unaware, he shook her shoulders for emphasis.

  “If you mean do I promise not to get married while you are in New York, then yes. I promise.”

  “Promise,” he asked again against her lips.

  “I promise,” she breathed into his mouth.

  He held her so tightly, he felt her heart beat. “I love you. You know that. Don’t you?” There was an edge of desperation to his voice.

  She almost told him that she planned to go along. “I know.”

  His heart aching, he released her, pushed through the door, mounted his horse, and rode away.

  He couldn’t bear to look back.

  Forty-four

  As Heath made his way to the telegraph office, he realized he missed Stevie already. But years of forcing himself to do what lesser men found impossible provided him the wherewithal to leave his heart in a dusty western town. Temporarily.