Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  Finally he moaned and rolled to his side, his back to her, and fumbled with the laces on his pants. When he turned to face her, he kept his gaze lowered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “I haven’t lost control like that since I was fourteen years old.”

  Serena bit back a giggle. “Is that the time Mary Beth Sloan’s father caught you and her up in the hayloft?”

  His shocked gaze flew to her face and narrowed with a threat. “Where did you hear a story like that? You were barely out of diapers.”

  “Ah, so it’s true then,” she said with mock seriousness.

  Instead of answering, he kissed her. A soft, slow kiss that took her breath away. They both forgot all about Mary Beth Sloan.

  Serena curled up against his side like a nesting bird. Matt covered them both with the blanket. For a night that began as a nightmare, it was ending like her fondest dream. Matt was holding her in his arms. What they had just shared was the most beautiful thing in the world. It was between a man and a woman. There was no trace of the brother left in him. Thank God.

  “It’s hard to imagine there’s anything better than this,” she said with a sudden smile. “Better than what you gave me, what you let me give you.”

  “What makes you think there is?”

  Serena leaned up on an elbow and grinned at him. “Matthew, I may be inexperienced, but it seems to me that for what we did tonight, a person wouldn’t necessarily need a partner. It has to be better the other way, or men and women wouldn’t put up with each other.”

  His chest rumbled with deep laughter as he tugged her back down to his side. “You’re outrageous. Shut up and go to sleep, woman.”

  Serena hugged him close and smiled to herself. I love you, Matt Colton. One day soon, you’ll admit you love me, too.

  Matt closed his eyes with a tired, satisfied sigh and acknowledged how right he felt with Serena’s naked body resting against his. He wasn’t sure where tonight would lead them, if anywhere. He only knew that the grief and guilt and loneliness he’d lived with for so long were gone. Washed away by her tender trust. Burned away by her touch, her kiss.

  Angela’s face suddenly appeared behind his closed lids. But still he felt no guilt or grief. He felt only her approval and encouragement.

  Angela would always be part of him, held in a special place of her own in his heart. But it was time to get on with his life. Time to make a new start. For himself, and for Joanna. For the first time in years, he felt free to do just that.

  Matt woke at dawn to the exquisite pleasure of Serena draped across his chest, with his arms holding her in place. God, but she was sweet to hold. So sweet, and he had almost lost her, almost never known the peace she brought him with her touch, her kiss. The thrills and pleasures they had shared last night.

  A shudder tore through him at what might have happened had he not arrived when he did last night.

  He blanked out the thought and, with a reluctance so great it surprised him, pulled himself from her arms. She slept on soundly. He was glad. He had a chore to perform that was better done without her watching. He had to bury the bastard down in the canyon.

  As gray light filtered into the shallow cave, he saw again the dark shadows beneath Serena’s eyes, the bruises on her flesh, the scabs and rope burns on her wrists.

  Yes, by God, he would bury Caleb Scott. He only wished the son of a bitch was still alive while he did it.

  The cool morning air raised goose bumps on his arms. Matt tugged the blanket over Serena’s shoulders and up to her chin. “Stay warm, sweetheart, and sleep,” he whispered.

  After donning his shirt, moccasins, Colt, and knife, Matt checked his Winchester and left it lying at the edge of the blanket, within easy reach for Serena. Next to it he placed the drawstring bag of clothes he had brought for her from home.

  Then he made his way silently out of the cave and over the canyon rim to where he had hidden his horse. In less than an hour he was riding up the gravel creek bed and through the entrance to the canyon.

  It took him fewer than five minutes to realize he had no body to bury. Caleb Miller Scott was gone.

  Matt swore long and hard at his own carelessness. He should have gone after the bastard last night and finished him off. But Serena had asked him to stay with her. Matt had not been strong enough to resist her plea.

  Stupid fool. Now look what’s happened.

  Then he told himself to relax. Scott’s horse was still in the canyon. The man had been burned beyond endurance. He couldn’t have gotten far. And he couldn’t, with the injuries he had suffered, have lasted the night.

  Yet Matt spent half the morning searching up and down the creek and couldn’t find a trace of Scott’s passing. Frustrated and more angry with himself than he ever remembered being, he headed back to Serena. He had left her alone long enough.

  Up in the rocks near the canyon entrance, one good eye, half blurred with pain, watched the rider below. The other eye didn’t work at all. Wouldn’t open. It seemed…sealed shut. Melted. Like hot wax.

  The brain behind the eye thought it should know the man in buckskins and moccasins, but the agony of burned flesh wouldn’t let it concentrate.

  Hate. The man below generated so much hate inside him it seemed to radiate off the very rocks, like heat. Like fire.

  Why so much hate? Why did it taste so bitter, feel so strong? And where was the woman? There should be a woman, shouldn’t there?

  Later. Knowledge would come later. The hate would become clear when memory returned. Thinking hurt too much. For now, get away. Get away. Hide. Yes. Hide. Then, rest. Blessed, sweet, sweet rest.

  Time enough later for hate.

  The cave was too small to hold its coolness against the midday heat. Serena woke alone and hot. The blanket smelled like Matt. She missed him sharply. Where was he? She had obviously slept half the day away.

  Then she remembered. He had to bury Caleb. She shivered despite the heat. The sight of Matt’s Winchester beside the blanket comforted her. She reached for the drawstring bag next to the gun. The contents made her smile at both his thoughtfulness and typical male forgetfulness. He had included a dress, a pair of shoes, and the silver-handled hairbrush from the top of her dresser at home. He had not, however, remembered to include underwear.

  She took a deep breath and stared out into the brilliant daylight. She was free of Caleb and his threats; she had her own clothes to wear; she was with Matt; and as soon as she could wolf down a biscuit or two, she wouldn’t even be hungry. Life was perfect.

  At least, it was perfect for a minute. Until she was buttoning her yellow gingham dress and felt the prickling along her spine, the raising of the fine hairs on the back of her neck. What was it? Something, some feeling pushed at her, growing stronger by the second.

  She shivered again. Then it hit her. A wall of hate so solid, so terrifying it threatened to buckle her knees.

  Who? Where? What was happening?

  She spun around with jerky movements, searching every inch of the small cave. No one was there. With her gaze trained on the entrance, she reached for Matt’s Winchester. Her hands trembled violently.

  Still the emotion threatened to suffocate her. Where did it come from? Whose was it? Who hated so strongly she could feel it pressing against her from all sides?

  Then she knew. Caleb.

  Oh, God, he was alive!

  She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the rifle harder, feeling the smooth wooden stock slip along her sweaty palms, telling herself she had to be wrong. No one could live through having so much of his body burned so severely. It was impossible. Her last sight of him had been of his hair, half his face, one arm, and part of his chest and back engulfed in flames.

  And my derringer in his hand. With one shot left.

  “Matt!” Her heart quivered. Where was Matt?

  She dashed toward the ledge.

  “Rena?”

  She squeaked with fright.

  Matt grabbed her by the shou
lders. “Rena, what’s wrong?”

  She wanted to slump against him in relief. He was all right. He was there with her, safe and sound. But the relief wouldn’t come. Only the fierce, consuming hate. She shuddered. “He’s still alive.”

  Matt let go of her and turned his head a little, watching her warily out of one eye. “Who’s still alive?”

  “Don’t give me that. This is me you’re talking to. You didn’t bury him, did you?”

  Matt took the rifle from her clenched fists and propped it against the wall.

  “You didn’t bury him because he wasn’t there. He’s not dead.”

  “Rena—”

  “Don’t bother lying to me,” she said. “It’s me, Matt. I knew the day, the minute you found Abe Scott. I could feel his fear, smell it, taste it. At first I thought it was yours, but then I knew. Just as I know today.”

  “What do you know today?”

  She swallowed hard. “Hate.”

  Matt ran his hands up and down her arms and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Caleb Scott’s hate for you, maybe for me, too, I don’t know. But I feel it, strong, right here inside me.” A shudder ripped through her. “All around me.”

  “Rena.” Matt pulled her into his arms. The feel of him, his heat, his scent, pushed away the hate, sent it running.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart. He can’t hurt you, not again. I swear he’ll never hurt you again.”

  Serena pushed away from him, surprised to feel wetness on her cheeks. She swiped at the tears she hadn’t realized she had shed. “It’s not me, you dolt, it’s you. You’re the one he’s been after all this time. It’s you he’ll come for.”

  “No, hush.” He pulled her into his arms again. “Even if you’re right and he’s still alive, he can’t last long. You saw the shape he was in.”

  She shivered.

  Matt held her tighter. “He’s gone, Rena. He’ll be dead by nightfall, if he’s not already.”

  She started to speak, but he stopped her. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to leave anything to chance. Not where you’re concerned. I’ll find him. I’ll make sure he can’t hurt you or anyone ever again. I swear, sweetheart. I swear.”

  Matt couldn’t resume his search for Caleb that day. Serena was so exhausted all she could manage was to eat and sleep. He refused to leave her alone while she was asleep and vulnerable. If she said she felt Caleb Scott was still alive, then Scott was still alive.

  But not for long. If Matt didn’t find him dead, he’d find him alive. And he would kill the bastard.

  As it turned out, he didn’t have to. A cougar beat him to it.

  The next afternoon, when Serena was alert enough to take care of herself, Matt left her with a kiss—one meant to comfort her, but that ended up curling his toes—and went in search of Caleb Scott. It took only a few minutes to find the spot where Caleb had, incredibly, dragged himself up into the rocks at the canyon entrance. The man had more grit than Matt had given him credit for, to have even lived through such severe burns long enough to get away, much less to drag himself up into the rocks.

  But the bloody streaks across the limestone and granite atop the ridge told Matt he wouldn’t have to worry about Caleb Scott any longer.

  A cougar—a big sucker, at least seven feet judging by the size of the tracks left in Caleb’s blood—had dragged Caleb to a deep crevice. Or rather, had dragged Caleb’s body. No sign of struggle marked the trail. Sometime the day before, the cat had dragged a dead body, not a live man.

  Bloody smears streaked down the sheer rock wall of the crevice as far into the darkness below as Matt could see. He didn’t need to descend to make sure his prey was dead. If the bloody drag marks hadn’t told him, the smell coming from the crevice would have. The sickening sweet odor of rotting flesh.

  Would the smell be so strong this soon?

  Yes. In this heat, yes.

  “Good riddance, you bastard.”

  Still shaken from the hatred that had nearly overwhelmed her the day before, Serena paced the small cave and waited for Matt. He would probably be gone for hours, she knew, but she couldn’t sit still. Not that she didn’t feel rested or refreshed from all the sleep she’d had the day before, she just had too much nervous energy to rest until Matt returned.

  He made it back sooner than she had thought he would. His grim expression sent foreboding down her spine. “You didn’t find him.”

  Matt shook his head. “I found him. He’s dead.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He gave her a crooked half-grin and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sure. He can’t bother us again.”

  Serena let out a tense breath and relaxed against him. But Matt was not relaxed. She felt his tautness in every muscle. She pushed back and looked up at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He let out a sigh that echoed with exhaustion. Or frustration, she couldn’t tell which.

  “Riders are coming.” When she didn’t say anything, only looked at him, he added, “About an hour away. It’s the family.”

  “The family?”

  “Pace and Dad and Dani, plus Carlos and Jorge.”

  Serena swallowed. “All of them?”

  Matt nodded, his eyes locked on hers.

  “So soon?” she whispered.

  They stared at each other a long moment, then Matt grabbed her swiftly to his chest and kissed her, a hard, urgent, desperate kiss. He told her with his mouth, his hands, and his body, that he wasn’t ready to share her with the rest of the family. Not yet. He wanted her to himself.

  He tore his mouth away and fought for breath. Serena tried to pull him back. “No.” He held her away. “Before they get here, there’s something I need to ask you.”

  “What is it?”

  He squeezed her shoulders and inhaled deeply. “In Tombstone, one day when you were mad at me—which was often,” he added with a little half-smile, “you said something I’ve been wondering about ever since. You said you hadn’t thought of me as your brother since you were eight years old. What did you mean?”

  Serena lowered her gaze and gave a shaky laugh. “Oh, that.”

  Matt raised her chin with a fingertip until she looked at him again. “Tell me, please?”

  Serena slipped out of his hold and stepped to the mouth of the cave. “Remember the squirrel’s nest?” she smiled at him over her shoulder.

  He frowned and shook his head.

  “You and Pace and I were in the Dragoons, with The People. Grandfather Cochise wanted fresh blueberries, so I went to find some. I spotted a squirrel’s nest near the top of a big old cottonwood up the creek and got a little sidetracked. I only wanted a peek, just to see if there were any babies. I managed to get myself good and stuck.”

  She laughed softly. “I was up there for hours, convinced no one would ever find me. Then, near dark, you came. I was never so glad to see anyone in my whole life. I looked down and there you were, standing tall and straight so far below me.”

  Serena looked at him and laughed again. “When you told me to jump, I got so mad I tried to spit in your face. I squirmed around and ended up dangling from that old branch by my hands. I felt like I was at least a mile above the ground.”

  “I remember now,” Matt said with a soft smile.

  “When the branch started to crack, you told me to let go. I thought for sure you were trying to get me killed,” she said. “But you just stood there beneath me, your arms held out, and said, ‘Jump, Rena. I’ll catch you.’ You said you wouldn’t let me fall, you wouldn’t let me get hurt.”

  She was quiet for a long time. “I don’t get it,” Matt said. “What has that got to do with you not thinking of me as a brother anymore?”

  Serena glanced at him, then stared back out at the canyon. “It was what happened to me when I let go of that branch and you caught me.”

  Matt placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to turn and face him. “What happened?”

  She looked up at hi
m with wry amusement. “I developed a terminal case of hero worship. I decided right then and there that I was in love with you. Even though I didn’t really know what it meant, I decided you were going to be my mate. Letting go of that dream was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  She watched Matt’s face, but couldn’t read his expression.

  “But did you let go of it, Rena?”

  She smiled softly. “The day you married Angela.”

  Matt frowned and looked away. “You were what, ten then? It must have hurt.”

  “It did,” she said, her smile still in place. It was her turn now to force him to look at her. “But Matt, I did let go of my dream. Angela made me see that you shouldn’t have to wait for me to grow up before you took a wife. And she was right. She was so beautiful, so kind to me. I think I loved her almost as much as you did.”

  Matt stepped away and walked past her to stand in the sun on the ledge. “It was all nonsense, you know. You were just a kid.”

  “Yes, I was a kid. But to me it wasn’t nonsense.”

  “You had a crush on me. You outgrew it.”

  “It was more than that, and I didn’t outgrow it. I put it away.”

  “For good?” he asked, his gaze trained on the mouth of the canyon.

  “I thought so.” She stared at his rigid back for a moment before continuing. “I was happy for you and Angela and Joanna. Even after Angela died, I still thought of you as her husband. I was content with that.”

  Matt spun on her then, his face a mask of furious frustration. “Then what the hell is going on?” he demanded. “What the hell changed when you came to Tombstone?”

  “It’s simple.” She raised her chin a notch. Her voice, when it came, was sure and steady. “I fell in love with you.”

  Matt stood still as a fence post and stared at her a long moment. Finally, he spun away and spoke over his shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

  Shocked and hurt, Serena couldn’t move. No acknowledgment, no look, no nothing. Just a curt “Stay here,” and he was gone. She bared her deepest feelings to him, and he walked away.