Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  “Who was that woman?” LaRisa asked as they stepped out onto the boardwalk. “That Mrs. Masters.”

  “She’s nobody. Don’t pay any attention to her. Oh, look, there’s Spence. We timed it perfectly.”

  LaRisa glanced across the street and saw Spence coming out of an office. The afternoon sun set his golden hair aglow. LaRisa’s pulse sped. She felt again the heat of his hands below her breasts, of his lips devouring hers. She shuddered with the powerful emotions the memories brought forth.

  Then she noticed the sign on the door he’d just exited, and a chill of reality raced down her spine. OSCAR L. JAMISON, ATTORNEY AT LAW. Spence had started their annulment.

  Chapter Ten

  Dismayed, LaRisa sat on the edge of the bed that night and fingered the lace trimming on the sheer white nightgown. “Joanna, what have you done? I didn’t select this.”

  “Only because you were counting pennies. I told you, Spence can afford it. Every new bride needs a beautiful nightgown.”

  By the time Joanna finished speaking LaRisa had uncovered a set of pale, sheer undergarments. “You know it’s not like that.”

  “Maybe it should be.”

  “Maybe what should be?” Spence asked from the doorway.

  “Gee,” Joanna said with an exaggerated stretch and yawn. “I think I’ll turn in. Thanks for taking us to town today, Spence. Good night, you two.” She left so fast a breeze stirred in her wake. The door closed firmly behind her.

  Spence strolled toward where LaRisa sat on the bed. “What was that all about?”

  LaRisa gestured toward the pile of clothes beside her. “She, uh, slipped a few things into my purchases that I didn’t need. Don’t worry, I’ll take them back.”

  He reached down and fingered the nightgown. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t need things this fancy. I don’t need so many clothes at all.”

  Spence saw the way her touch lingered over the fine linens, laces, and silks. He could see the longing in her eyes.

  She started folding the nightgown. “I’ll just—”

  “Keep them.”

  “Don’t be silly. I have no need—”

  “Sometimes people are allowed to have things they don’t need, things they only want. Why shouldn’t this be one of those times for you?”

  She shook her head. “That’s very generous of you, but these things are so expensive. I’ll never be able to pay you back. I never intended to buy so much.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to talk about you paying me back. The clothes are a gift from me to you.”

  “I…don’t know what to say.”

  “You can say thanks if you want, but it’s not necessary. There’s something else we need to talk about.”

  LaRisa’s hands shook. “The annulment.” Funny, but it hadn’t been too long ago that she’d looked forward to having her mock marriage to Spence over with. Since coming to the Triple C, however, things had begun to change. She had begun to change. She’d learned what it was like to have a man kiss her until her toes curled. She’d learned what it was like to have a family again, a large, close, loving family. Suddenly she wasn’t so eager to be on her own.

  But that wasn’t right, she told herself. While she might love Spence’s family, that had nothing to do with her feelings for him. Kisses or no kisses, she couldn’t possibly want to stay married to a white man. To this white man. She had no business wanting such a thing. She didn’t want it. Neither did he. He wanted his freedom even more than she did, and she owed it to him. “Did you find out how long it will take, or is it done already?”

  Spence dropped to the edge of his cot at the foot of the bed. She wasn’t going to like this any more than he did, but it couldn’t be helped. “No, it’s not done. The papers will be ready in a few days, but there’s a problem.”

  Warily she asked, “What kind of problem?”

  “When…” He paused, cleared his throat, and started over. “When I brought you here and promised you an annulment, I forgot about the territorial law the legislature passed a few years ago.”

  “There’s a law against annulments?”

  “There’s a law,” he said grimly, “against Chiricahua Apaches in Arizona.”

  Something cold and clammy gripped LaRisa’s insides. “I have to leave?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “That is…as long as an Arizona citizen agrees to be responsible for you, and as long as you’re with that person, there’s no problem. That means that when we get the annulment, we have to find someone else for you to live with. I don’t want you to worry, but I wanted you to know about the law. You know my family will be glad to have you stay here.”

  LaRisa felt ill. “You mean spend the rest of my life living off their charity? I don’t know any such thing, and neither do you. Especially since your parents aren’t here to speak for themselves. In any case, I refuse to live on charity.” She waited, but Spence did not suggest they stay married. She was both relieved, and hurt.

  What was she to do? If they did not stay married she could not live in Arizona except as the object of his family’s charity. That was unacceptable. If she had to live at the Triple C, she wouldn’t even be able to get a job in Tucson, as it was more than two hours away. To hold down a job she would need to live in town. If she lived in town, alone, she would be breaking the law and would have to leave the territory.

  “Why did they make this law?”

  “For the same reason your people were sent to prison. Because of Geronimo. He fought too hard and too long. He had half the territory living in fear for too many years. The Chiricahua couldn’t be controlled, so now they’re not tolerated.”

  Damn the whites, LaRisa thought fiercely. She had been right the day she’d stood beside her father’s grave with Geronimo. All the Chiricahua should have fought. To the death! They should have never believed the white man’s lies, should never have given in. But it was too late. Her people were imprisoned and would never rise again. Now they could never return to their homeland. Even one lone girl, no threat to anyone, was not allowed to live here.

  She would not stay where she was not welcome. She would not live under the thumb of the white man. “My father mentioned that if this didn’t work, I could go to Mexico, to Dee-O-Det.” She had a vague childhood recollection of the old shaman. He’d seemed older than the mountains themselves when she had been five. Was he even still alive?

  “Pa-Gotzin-Kay,” Spence said.

  “I’m not sure I remember it. Have you been there?”

  “Once. There’s a band of around fifty or so living in a mountain stronghold in Sonora. They live the old way, with everyone sharing, taking care of each other, including the elders. They don’t abandon the old people these days. There’s no need, since they’re not on the warpath anymore.”

  “Are they free?” she asked softly.

  Spence shrugged. “There are no soldiers, no white man’s rules, if that’s what you mean. But free? Not really. They have to stay hidden so no one will find them. They don’t even keep dogs for fear the barking will give them away. If the Mexicans knew they had Apaches living in their midst, they’d go in and wipe them out, every man, woman, and child.”

  LaRisa didn’t want to go to Mexico. She wanted to stay with Spence. The idea shocked her so badly that she knew she must go. “How…how would I live there?”

  “Are you saying you want to go?”

  “Better there, I think, than back to Alabama or Carlisle.”

  “I told you, you can stay here.”

  “I told you, I won’t live on charity.”

  Pride, Spence thought with a mixture of frustration and grudging respect. He couldn’t blame her for being too proud to live off his family, but damn, those poor people at Pa-Gotzin-Kay lived a meager existence. He didn’t much like the thought of LaRisa suffering the hardships they endured. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

  “Why not? When the lawyer has the annulment ready, I’ll have to do somethi
ng.”

  “Just because he gets it ready doesn’t mean we have to sign it right away. You know my parents would never forgive either of us if you left before they got home. There’s no hurry.” God, he couldn’t believe he was saying this. He, who desperately wanted out of this sham of a marriage before he found himself wanting her too much to let her go. And that would be a disaster he wasn’t willing to deal with.

  LaRisa shook her head. “I can’t…” She didn’t know what she’d been about to say. She clutched the sheer nightgown in her fists. So what, if he had fought with her when she needed to fight, held her when she needed to cry. He wasn’t her warrior. She could not let herself want more from him than he was willing to give. They had agreed all along to an annulment. There was no point in putting it off.

  “There’s no reason to wait,” she said softly. Mexico sounded like a lonely place. She would have no need of fancy clothes in a hidden mountain stronghold. “How will I get there?”

  Spence sighed. “If you really want to go, I’ll take you.”

  “How…how soon can we leave?”

  Spence stood and pulled his shirttail from his pants. “Not until your boots are ready, at least. You can’t make a week-long ride without them.”

  LaRisa swallowed. “A week?”

  “Nearly, if we don’t run into any trouble.” He started unbuttoning his shirt.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  He peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor next to the door, ready for the next day’s laundry. “A lame horse, a swollen river, that sort of thing.”

  “Oh.” LaRisa could do little more than stare at his bare chest. He usually waited to come to bed until long after she’d turned out the lamp each night. She always pretended to be asleep, lying there listening to him undress in the dark. She knew that he knew she wasn’t asleep, yet they kept up the pretense. Sharing a bedroom was easier that way. When she woke each morning, he was always up and gone.

  Why had he chosen tonight to break their pattern? After what had happened at the bootmaker’s, she didn’t need this. She tore her gaze from his broad, muscled chest and started folding her new clothes to place in the wardrobe.

  Spence watched her hands flow gracefully over the delicate fabrics. She had beautiful hands. When he caught himself wondering what they would feel like touching his chest, he balled his fists and crossed to the bootjack. “How long has it been since you’ve ridden a horse?”

  “A couple of years,” she said. “But that was only about a mile, and it was in a sidesaddle. I’ve never done the kind of riding you’re talking about.”

  “We’ll work on it, get you used to the saddle, while we wait for your boots.”

  Work on it, they did. Less than half an hour after breakfast the next morning, Spence had her in the saddle. She wore one of her new split riding skirts, a pair of Joanna’s old boots, and a hat donated by Will. Her mount, Spence assured her, was as docile as an old fat cow. This morning’s exercise was just to get LaRisa used to riding, particularly riding astride.

  Indeed, it did take some getting used to, but she got the hang of it quick enough. But not quick enough, it seemed, for Spence. He was forever giving her orders.

  Sit up straighter.

  Move with the horse.

  Relax.

  “It’s going to be a long two weeks,” she muttered to herself. That was how long Enrique had said it would be before her boots were ready.

  “Did you say something?” Spence asked as he rode beside her.

  “No.”

  “Well, pay attention to what you’re doing.”

  Pay attention? She couldn’t help it if she was distracted. It was difficult to concentrate on his orders when her mind was busy trying to reconcile this new version of Spence Colton with the one she’d thought she had known.

  The man riding beside her in no way resembled the doctor she’d first met in Pennsylvania. From that day to this, he had always worn a sack suit. Square cut, in gray, brown, or black. Pants, vest, and matching coat, with a white shirt. City clothes. There had been no confusing him with an Easterner, because he’d always worn Western boots, a hat shaped in the Western style, and a string tie. But still, she’d thought of him as a city man. But no more.

  Gone were the flannels, cassimeres, and fine worsteds. Gone, too, the white shirts and string ties. Gone was the city man. The man at her side was a man of the West, a rugged, outdoor rancher in blue denim pants, a red and blue plaid shirt, and a red bandanna around his neck. His fine wool hat had been replaced by one of white straw woven so tightly it looked like fabric, with a sweat stain around the band.

  The real difference, the one that disconcerted her the most, was the revolver strapped to his right hip. She’d never seen him wear a gun before, and it kept surprising her every time she saw it. It made him look…dangerous. He even seemed…harder, somehow. Like a stranger, but not a stranger, for the unmistakable pull between them was still there, as strong if not stronger than ever.

  Pay attention? She’d be lucky if she didn’t run her poor horse directly into a tree.

  Spence never let their horses go faster than a walk, but by the time they returned to the barn near noon and dismounted, LaRisa’s legs were numb. Refusing to let him know, she swung down and clung to the horse’s mane and the saddle until she thought she could stand on her own.

  Spence watched and bit back a wince of sympathy. He had a damn good idea what she must be feeling. He knew it was nothing to what she would feel in the morning and for the rest of the week. He intended to push her hard. The trip to Mexico would be no casual ride. The terrain was rugged, sometimes deadly, and the land they would pass through was a favorite haven for bandits. If she couldn’t handle herself in the saddle, she could endanger them both.

  The more he thought about the upcoming trip, the harder he kicked himself for agreeing to take her to Pa-Gotzin-Kay. Why the hell couldn’t she just stay at the ranch?

  But he knew why. Pride. He himself had more than his fair share. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to live off his family. Still, there had to be another solution than to take her to Mexico. He damn sure didn’t want to be alone on the trail with her for nearly a full week. Just the two of them. Day after day.

  Night after night.

  With a heartfelt sigh, LaRisa laid her head back against the rim of the tub and sank deeper into the steamy water. Taking a full bath in the middle of the day felt…hedonistic. Decadent. Heavenly. Not only had the morning’s ride left her aching all over, but she’d also smelled a great deal like her mount.

  A wry grin twisted her lips. She doubted the rest of her tribe even had access to a bathtub. The Triple C definitely had its advantages. Maybe she was being hasty in insisting on going to Mexico.

  But no, she couldn’t stay here just to make her life easier. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t needed here, had no place to call her own among these people. She needed to feel…useful.

  In the years since she’d finished regular school she had studied hard to learn everything about nursing she could absorb. She had always intended to use her new skills to help her people. The promise her father had wrung from her had put an end to that dream.

  But the thought of Mexico gave her new hope. Maybe there, in the ancient mountain stronghold, her skills could be of use. Maybe she could still help her people.

  It was a fact that she was of no real use to anyone on the Triple C. Spence couldn’t wait to get rid of her, and he and the rest of the family had each other. LaRisa was not needed.

  With another sigh, she rolled her head to a more comfortable position and let the hot water ease her aches, knowing she would be even more sore in the morning.

  Heavy boots thudded down the hall toward her door. LaRisa sat up and clutched the washcloth to her chest, praying that wasn’t Spence, that he wouldn’t barge in on her.

  It was, and he did.

  Spence froze in the open doorway. His chest tightened, his heart seemed to stop beating, and he
at surged in his loins. Good God.

  She looked as startled as he felt, but that was the least of his problems. Water beaded across her bare shoulders, reflecting the midday light, sparkling like dozens of diamonds against her dark skin. With white knuckles she clutched a rag to her chest, but it fell more between her lush breasts than across them.

  No bruises now. Nothing to mar the perfection of her flesh. And it was perfect, right down to the way the draft coming through the open door caused her nipples to bead.

  It was surely the draft that caused her reaction. It couldn’t possibly be him. She could have no idea how badly he wanted to cross the room, kneel beside her bath, and lave away with his tongue that drop of water that clung to one dusky tip.

  Spence finally remembered to breath. Then he swallowed. Hard. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were…I’ll just…”

  Damnation. Now she had him stuttering like a green school boy. Disgusted by his own reaction, he backed out of the room and firmly closed the door. Hell, why was he reacting so strongly to her all of a sudden? Yesterday at Enrique’s, now this.

  There was no place in his life for a woman. He had vowed years ago, the day he’d seen the look of pity and fear and disgust in Maryanne’s eyes, that he would never subject a woman to life with a man who was less than whole.

  He shouldn’t let Maryanne’s reaction carry so much weight. He knew that although she was nice enough, she was a tad on the shallow side. Just because she had seen him at his worst and decided she couldn’t go through with the wedding didn’t mean all women would react the same way. Certainly not someone as cock-sure of herself as LaRisa Chee.

  No, he knew his decision to deny himself the very things he wanted most in life—a wife and family of his own—wasn’t entirely rational. But it was there, and it was strong. If he couldn’t think of himself as whole and competent, how could he expect a woman to see him as such?

  He couldn’t. Which was just one more reason why his unwanted attraction for LaRisa had to stop. He had to quit mentally fighting her decision to go to Mexico. It would be the best thing for both of them. She would be with her own people, and he would be free. He would be…alone.