She felt more like crying. Yes, he was her brother. He’d steadied her steps when she learned to walk. She bit back a grin when she thought he’d probably changed her diaper a time or two. He and Mama had taught her to read. He and Dad had taught her to ride. He and Cochise had taught her to defend herself. He was her brother, but only in his mind and on paper.
The truth was, when applied to Matt, the word “brother” was only half a word. What he was was her stepbrother, by the marriage of his father to her mother, her adopted brother by law.
In her mind and heart, he’d stopped being her brother when she was eight years old and had become instead her knight in shining armor. That was when she decided she wanted to hurry and grow up so she could marry him.
When she was ten, he’d married Angela, and Serena had given up her dreams of knights. Angela was so beautiful and kind and loving, it would have been impossible for Serena to resent her for the destruction of her dreams. Serena had loved Angela, and she’d been happy for Matt to have such a wonderful wife.
So Matt had become her brother again.
And right now he needed her as a brother needed a sister. He needed to be taken care of. He needed to be loved and coddled, or pushed and prodded, whatever it took to get him on his feet again and help him find some happiness in life.
He’d been alone for three years now, and Serena knew Matt. He wasn’t meant to live alone. He had always had so much love to give those around him. Who was he giving his love to these days? Anyone? No one?
Aside from Matt, there was also Joanna to consider. She needed her father. It wasn’t that the girl didn’t have plenty of family around constantly showering her with love, but no one could take the place of her father. Joanna needed him, and it was time he understood that.
“Matt…”
Matt took a slow, deep breath and opened his eyes. Serena was looking at him anxiously. The tightening in his groin eased and he was able to smile at her. Poor girl had no idea what her soft moist lips against his leg had done to the rest of his body.
“Hold still while I rebandage your leg and get these splints back on,” she cautioned. “I don’t want you shifting that bone.”
“Thanks, Rena,” he said with a sigh. He felt his muscles relaxing now. She wasn’t aware of what had happened. It was just a silly accident. Kali was right—he’d been too long without a woman. The thought made him grimace.
It had been over three years since he’d felt the pleasure of a woman’s body next to his. He wasn’t counting that whore in San Francisco two years ago, because there had been nothing pleasurable about her. She was nothing more than a vessel he’d emptied himself into one dark desperate night.
That experience had made him feel as cheap as she had looked. From then on, he’d done without that particular pastime. The last pleasure he’d felt had been with Angela. Nothing had mattered since he’d lost her.
He’d been fighting a losing battle for three years trying to forget her. Sometimes, if he could drink enough, he could go for maybe a day or two without being tortured by her memory, but she always came back to him. He hated himself for being too weak to put the past to rest. The more he hated himself, the more he drank, and the more he drank, the more he hated himself.
“Are you thirsty?”
Matt blinked and focused his gaze on Serena. She had finished with his leg and had asked him something. “Wha—yes,” he said, remembering. And he was thirsty, he realized—he was parched. But he felt better than he had.
He struggled to raise himself on an elbow and reached for the tin cup Serena offered. She held it to his lips and he drank greedily, even though it was only water, then fell back to the mattress, exhausted. That simple act had sapped his strength.
“It’s all right.” Serena ran her cool fingers over his brow, soothing the heat and the pain there. “You’ll feel better tomorrow. Sleep now, Matt.”
As his eyes drifted shut, he felt her lips brush his forehead. He stiffened.
“Shh…just sleep now.”
The next morning Matt’s fever was gone, and he was in hell. How long had it been since he’d had a drink? He needed one now to clear his head. He’d had that dream again.
It was the same. It was always the same, waking up after reliving that horrible nightmare of Angela’s death. Whiskey was the only thing that helped, and he was well aware that each time, it took more and more whiskey. The cheaper the whiskey, the easier it was to forget.
He kept his eyes closed as the dream, the nightmare, washed over him again. He and Angela, driving home from Tucson in the wagon. Scott, riding out from behind the brush. Angela throwing herself in front of Matt to protect him, to take the bullet meant for him. It was always the same.
But something was different about last night’s dream. When he’d gazed in horror into Angela’s upturned, dying face, as he always did in the nightmare, something changed. Her green eyes, Eyes Like Summer Leaves, faded, then turned a bright sky-blue. Her yellow-gold tresses turned white at her temple, darker everywhere else, until they were black. Her beautiful, beloved features began to alter subtly until he had found himself gazing into the face of his stepsister. Now it was Serena’s face before him. It was Serena’s voice whispering, “I love you, Matt.” It was Serena’s last breath that sounded like a soft sigh of love.
Panicked, breathing hard, Matt opened his eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling of the adobe hut. He was going crazy. God, but he needed a drink. He looked around the room and found himself alone. He spied his saddlebags a few feet away and stretched to reach them. He always kept a bottle in his saddlebags. For emergencies. This was an emergency.
Chapter Four
When Serena returned from bathing in the creek, the first thing she noticed was that Matt was awake. The second thing she noticed was that he had a bottle titled to his lips and was guzzling like a man who’d just found water after crossing the desert.
Her gaze lit on the open saddlebag lying next to the mattress. She cursed herself for her carelessness. She should have checked the damned thing.
Matt’s eyes were closed and he was making so much noise with his guzzling that he didn’t know she was there. She stood quietly until he sighed, eyes still closed, and rested the bottle on his chest while he dropped his head back down onto the mattress.
When she approached his side he opened his eyes. “Good morning,” she announced with a brilliant smile.
Matt smiled in return, relieved not to get a lecture about drinking so early in the morning. Kali would have lectured. “Morning,” he answered.
Then Serena’s smile froze and her eyes hardened. “I’ll take that.” She swooped down and grabbed the bottle from his hands.
“Hey! Bring that back here, damn it.”
Serena ignored him and set the bottle on a broad flat rock just outside the door.
“Rena, bring it back,” Matt ordered.
She smiled slightly. “No.”
Matt clenched his jaws. She didn’t understand. He needed the whiskey. He flung back the blanket and prepared to rise, until he felt the draft of cool air across his bare skin. He quickly covered himself. A slow heat crept up his cheeks. To his chagrin, Serena’s smile spread wider.
“Where the hell are my pants?”
“What pants?” she asked innocently. “You weren’t wearing any when I found you.”
Matt frowned. What was going on here? This wasn’t like Serena at all. She’d always been the sweetest, most docile, loving, helpful child. He’d never seen this side of her before.
“Then where are my longjohns? I know I was wearing longjohns,” he said, trying to gain some sort of control over the situation.
“You mean that disgustingly filthy underwear you obviously hadn’t been out of in months?”
Matt eyed her with trepidation. This wasn’t Rena. He must be dreaming again. What he needed was another drink. That would clear his head.
“I burned them,” Rena said.
Matt blinked. “You wh
at? You burned my underwear?”
“Yes, and I’m almost sorry I did. Three birds flew too close to the smoke and dropped dead, the smell was so bad.”
“Rena!”
She just stood there, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in a frown.
“If you burned my underwear and didn’t bring my pants, what the hell am I supposed to wear?”
“You’re not supposed to wear anything,” she stated flatly. “You’re not getting out of that bed until I say so.”
“Now wait just a min—”
“No. You wait just a minute. I came here for one reason, and that was to get you back on your feet. I’m not leaving until your leg is mended, your color is back to normal, your eyes lose that glaze, and until you can go a day or two without a drink and not get the shakes.”
Matt snorted with disgust. “So you’re here to save me from my wicked ways.”
“Something like that.”
“And if I don’t feel the need to be saved?”
“Too damn bad, buster.”
Matt nearly swallowed his tongue. Serena never swore! “What’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you like this. You’ve never been mean and spiteful before, and you certainly never used to swear.”
“You never used to wallow around in self-pity and try to drink yourself to death, either,” she retorted. “If you really want to kill yourself there are faster, easier ways than what you’ve been doing.”
He felt something in his chest tighten. “Is that what you think I’m trying to do? Kill myself?”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, damn it.” He glared at her a moment, then closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. “No. You just don’t understand.”
Serena’s heart softened at the pain she saw in his face. She knelt beside him and placed a hand on his arm. “You’re right, I don’t understand. But I’d like to.”
He didn’t answer, didn’t look at her, didn’t move. Serena decided to let it go for the moment. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.
“Can you turn over onto your stomach without hurting you leg?”
“What for?”
“So I can finish your bath I started last night. I couldn’t get to your back. Once you’re clean you’ll feel better.”
“You gave me a bath?” Matt’s cheeks stung again as he wondered just how thorough that bath had been.
“You must admit you needed one. Come on. I’ll help you roll over. When I’m through with your back, I’ll shave you.”
He ran a hand across his bristled cheeks and grimaced. “I could use a shave,” he admitted.
“Then roll over and let me scrub your back first.”
He did as she ordered. He turned his face to the wall, dreading the touch of her fingers, fearing his reaction. But this time it was all right. The soap and water felt good against his skin.
He must have been sicker than he’d realized, for the simple act of rolling over sapped his energy. He felt himself relaxing while she washed his back. Then he felt her pull the blanket from his hips. “Rena!”
“Oh, hush,” she said with a laugh. “It isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”
Matt grappled for the blanket and tried to cover himself. “You go around looking at men’s bare backsides these days?”
Serena jerked the blanket away and washed from his lower back clear down his legs. “Why, Matthew Colton, I do believe you’re embarrassed.”
“You’re damn right I am. My kid sister is treating me like I’m an infant. And you didn’t answer my question, girl. Just whose bare ass have you been looking at?”
Serena laughed as she dried him and covered him again with the blanket. “Only every man who ever wore a breechcloth on a windy day, and that includes you.” She felt him struggle to turn over and pushed him back down. “Just lie still.” She ran her hands over his neck and shoulders. “You’re too tense.”
She worked at his knotted muscles for several minutes before she felt him start to relax. She kept massaging his neck, shoulders and back until she heard the even rhythm of his breathing telling her he was asleep. Even then she was reluctant to stop touching him.
“Oh, Matt,” she whispered. She caressed his shoulder slowly. “Why have you done this to yourself? Why do you drink so much?”
She was startled when he rolled over onto his back, his eyes still closed, and said, “To forget.”
Thank God, she thought. At least he was willing to talk about it. She took his hand in both of hers. “Forget what?”
Matt squeezed her hand and opened his eyes. The stark pain she read in his gaze took her breath away.
“Angela.” His voice shook.
“You don’t mean that, Matt. You can’t.” She gripped his hand tighter. “She was your wife, the mother of your child. You loved her more than anything in the world. How could you hope to ever forget her? Why would you even want to?”
Matt looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Because she’s dead!”
“Oh, Matt, I know she’s dead. And I know how much you must miss her. But just because she’s dead doesn’t mean you should forget her. It’s all right to miss her, Matt. It’s all right to remember her, to think of her. She was part of you, body and soul, and you loved her. We all loved her, and we always will. No one expects you to forget her. It would be impossible. She’s gone, Matt, but she lives on in you, in Joanna, in everyone whose life she touched. None of us will ever forget her.”
Serena paused until he left off studying the ceiling and looked at her. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” she asked. “Remember when Cochise and Grandad Jason died the same day? Remember how sad we all were? Do you remember what it was that eased our pain?”
“That’s the day Joanna was born,” he said flatly.
“Yes. Joanna gave us something new to think about. But what also helped was that we remembered all the times we’d shared with Grandad and Grandfather, and we talked about them. And it helped. We didn’t try to forget. We were just grateful for the memories they left us.”
“I remember that,” Matt said, studying their joined hands. “I remember I made you cry when I reminded you about the time Cochise threatened to sell you and Pace to the Mexicans for tying his moccasins together.”
“I remember.” Serena smiled. “Only you said it all in Apache, and then had to explain to Angela what you’d said that made me cry. By the time you finished describing the entire episode, we were all laughing.”
“Angela never did learn to speak Apache.”
Serena’s heart skipped a beat at his easy comment. This just might work, if only she could keep him talking. “No,” she said. “She didn’t need to. She always had you to translate.”
“And you. She always said she didn’t know what she would have done without you that time she had to build the wickiup right before we got married. She wouldn’t have had the slightest idea what was going on if you hadn’t translated for her.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about Joanna needing a translator.”
Matt’s eyes sparked with interest at the mention of his daughter. “Tell me about her.”
“Oh, Matt, I can’t wait for you to see her. You’ll be so proud.” She threaded her fingers through his, her heart aching for all he’d missed in the last three years. “She’s the most beautiful child in the world. And smart, too. She speaks three languages fluently, she can read and write and knows her numbers. Dad swears she’s a better rider than I was at that age.”
Matt squeezed his eyes shut and his voice trembled with emotion. “I miss her so much, Rena.”
“Which one? Joanna, or Angela?”
He squeezed her fingers so hard she thought they’d break. “Both,” he croaked.
“Then hurry up and get well and come home with me. There’s no need for you to miss Joanna. She’s there waiting for you.”
“But Angela isn’t,” he said harshly.
“No, Angel
a isn’t there, she’s here, Matt.” Serena placed her hand over his heart. “She’s right here, where she’s always been, where she’ll always be. That’s where your comfort is, Matt, right here inside you, not in the bottom of some bottle. Look inside yourself and know that she’ll always be there. And when you come home and look into Joanna’s eyes, eyes the color of summer cottonwood leaves, you’ll know part of Angela still lives.”
The room grew quiet as the morning sun climbed higher. Matt lay with closed eyes, but Serena knew he wasn’t asleep. “Get some rest,” she said. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, then wrinkled her nose. “I’ve got to figure out a way to wash your hair. I don’t know how you can stand it.”
“I haven’t been sober long enough to even notice,” he said with a harsh laugh. Then, “Rena, where are my pants? I really do need to get up.”
“I told you before, you’re not getting up until I say so.”
He opened his eyes and glared at her. “If I don’t get up, and outside, and soon, you and I are both going to be pretty damned embarrassed.”
Serena grinned wickedly. “We’re probably both going to be embarrassed anyway. At least you will be, because you’re going in this.” She grabbed the bedpan and thrust it at him.
“No way, you little brat. You let me up now, and I mean it.”
“Hah. You’re so weak you wouldn’t even make it to the door. Just use the stupid bedpan.” She jumped up and headed for the door to give him privacy.
“Serena, damn you!”
Laughter trailed behind her as she dashed outside into the sun.
The next morning just before noon, Matt lay on his mattress in the corner clutching his gut. Serena was outside somewhere, doing God knew what. Matt didn’t care. He hurt too much to care. His stomach felt like there was a giant rat inside gnawing, trying to eat and claw its way out. Matt’s hands shook so bad he couldn’t even wipe the sweat from his own eyes.
Apache-Colton Series Page 77
