Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  He winked at Janey. “You can call me Spence.”

  “Okay, Doctor Spence.”

  “Doctor Spence? Hey, I kinda like that,” he said. “Okay, then, Miss Janey, let’s take you into the other room and get rid of those sutures. How ‘bout it?”

  “Okay, but Doctor Spence, what are sooters?”

  “Sutures,” he told her with a chuckle. “That’s doctor talk for stitches.”

  Spence ushered daughter, mother, and grandmother into the examination room. LaRisa stayed behind. Mrs. Masters stood just on the other side of the doorway and cast a disparaging glare at her.

  “Mrs. Masters,” came Spence’s voice. He sounded distracted, as though his attention was elsewhere while he addressed her. “Forgive me for asking, but have you ever had your eyesight examined?”

  The woman gave LaRisa a final glare, then turned toward Spence, who, while out of LaRisa’s sight, was undoubtedly removing Janey’s sutures as he spoke.

  “Of course not,” Mrs. Masters replied indignantly. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Spence said casually. “There you go, young lady. All done.”

  “That’s it?” came Janey’s plaintive voice. “But you can hardly see a scar at all,” she wailed.

  Back out in the office, Mrs. Masters turned to him again. “What makes you think there’s something wrong with my eyesight? I can see just fine.”

  Spence shrugged carelessly and frowned. “Maybe it’s your memory, then. You’ve been widowed a long time now.”

  “Ten years. What does that have to do with anything? What are you getting at, young man?”

  “I was just trying to figure why you don’t seem to be able to tell the difference between a wrinkled, grizzled old warrior, and my wife, who is neither wrinkled, grizzled, old, nor a warrior.”

  Mrs. Masters snapped her spine straight. “Of all the impertinent—”

  “Spence,” LaRisa whispered, shocked.

  He cocked his head and looked at her. “I’ll have to come up with a tonic for you. You must not be feeling well. I haven’t heard you take that kind of abuse off anyone since we left Carlisle.”

  Stunned, LaRisa could do no more than stare at him.

  Mrs. Masters gasped in outrage. Harriett blushed.

  To Mrs. Masters, Spence said, “LaRisa—Mrs. Colton, to you—was nine years old when Geronimo killed your husband. If you can’t tell the difference between her and Geronimo, then I have to question either your eyesight or your memory. Or perhaps your mind has slipped to the point that you actually think a nine-year-old girl attacked that supply train. In any case, ma’am, I assure you, you’re wrong. My wife is not responsible for your husband’s untimely death. The man who is, is in prison hundreds of miles away. I hope that thought gives you some comfort.”

  With her face turning an alarming shade of red, Mrs. Masters worked her mouth, but it took her several tries before words came out. “I don’t have to take that kind of talk from you, young man!”

  “Of course you don’t.” Spence pulled open the front door and gestured out toward the street.

  “Well! I never!” The furious, indignant woman sailed past him and dragged her daughter and granddaughter with her.

  “G’bye, Doctor Spence,” Janey called. “G’bye, Missus Spence.”

  “So long, Janey,” Spence said. Then, with a wink, he added, “Sorry your scar’s not more spectacular.”

  As Harriet bustled out the door with a blush of her own, she tossed an embarrassed, apologetic smile at LaRisa and Spence.

  Spence closed the door behind them and turned to LaRisa. “Are you about through in here? I need to ride out to the Bar D and check on Mrs. Dunsten. She’s due to deliver in a couple of weeks, and I’d like to meet her before then.”

  Still floored over what had just happened, LaRisa stared down at the dust rag in her hand. It was a full moment before she could make sense of what he’d just said. “I’ll straighten the examination room and start dinner while you’re gone.”

  Her statement was reasonable, but Spence wasn’t feeling too reasonable just then. Hadn’t been for days, not since he’d finally admitted to himself that he was obsessed with her. But hearing her stand there and take what Mrs. Masters had dished out didn’t help any. He wasn’t in the mood to let his wife out of his sight. “The examination room and dinner can wait. You’re coming with me.”

  They were on their way home from the Bar D, with Mac’s high-stepping gelding pulling the buggy along at a smart pace, when Spence finally brought up the subject that weighed on him.

  “Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

  Startled out of her introspection by his voice, LaRisa jerked. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” He looked over at her with a frown. “You don’t seem like yourself lately.”

  She arched a brow. “Whom do I seem like?”

  One corner of his mouth twitched up. LaRisa tried not to stare at his lips. Lips that hadn’t touched hers since their first night back from Mexico.

  “That’s more like you,” he offered.

  She forced her gaze ahead and stared down the road. “Thank you. I think.”

  “Why did you keep quiet when that old windbag insulted you this morning?”

  “I didn’t think it was important enough to risk alienating Doctor Mac’s patients. What’s he going to say when he comes home and finds out you’ve run them all off? You should have let it go.”

  “Let it go? This, from you? I know I’ve accused you of having a chip on your shoulder—”

  “A time or two, as I recall.”

  “—but I never meant to suggest that you should put up with blatant bigotry.”

  “Well, it’s over now. I’m sure she won’t be back.”

  “She damn well better not be.”

  The vehemence in his voice shocked her. His entire attitude shocked her. She still had trouble believing how he’d told that woman off. For her. For LaRisa Chee.

  For his wife.

  Was that it? Had he been defending his wife the way he would his horse or his home?

  That wasn’t fair, and she knew it. Spence had a great capacity for kindness. He’d shown it to her time after time from the day they met. But most of it had been couched in cynicism or jokes. Today’s incident was…different. More personal.

  With the reins threaded through his fingers, Spence leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She cut her eyes to him, then away. “About what?”

  “About whatever’s made you so quiet the last several days. Is it that bad, being my wife?”

  LaRisa bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t tell him how her emotions seesawed around him, about how she was more distressed than relieved that he hadn’t touched her in days, about how her distress terrified her. She shook her head. “What do I know about being a wife? I don’t know what you expect of me.”

  “I don’t expect you to change, if that’s what you think. I don’t expect you to be or think or act any differently than you always have. We’ve been together for weeks. This shouldn’t really change anything, should it?”

  She arched a brow at him. “You mean it’s all right for the Apache wife of the fine, upstanding doctor to run around with a chip on her shoulder?”

  “Well, now, I don’t think I’d miss that chip any if you lost it. But I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you’re not.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I don’t expect you to take any crap off people like Lettie Masters. Ever since her husband was killed by Geronimo she’s hated even the mention of Apaches. That doesn’t mean you have to put up with her.”

  “I could always go back to the ranch.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to live off my family’s charity.”

  “I don’t. But I don’t think this is going to work.”

  “After one day, you’ve decided that? I thought this w
as more or less what you wanted when you came to Tucson. To live in town and get a job. You’re in town now. You’ve got a job as my assistant. The only difference is, you’re also my wife, and frankly, I don’t see as that’s any real hardship on you.”

  “No,” she said quietly. “I don’t suppose you would.”

  Spence couldn’t stop her final words from echoing in his mind. They had such a ring of defeat about them, it made him ache inside. One day on their own, three days away from the ranch, and he could feel her slipping farther and farther away from him.

  He’d even left her alone the last few nights in bed. That had mainly been in deference to Mac’s thin walls, but Spence had also been hoping to give her time to get used to their new situation. Get used to the idea of being married to him for real. And if he was honest with himself, he’d also hoped that if he didn’t push, she would turn to him and let him know she wanted him. She hadn’t.

  The days following Lettie Masters’ visit were quieter, but then, so was LaRisa. Each day she seemed to draw more and more into herself, and Spence didn’t know what to do. She was obviously unhappy. Miserable would be a better word for what he saw in her face when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  He had hoped that taking her out to dinner tonight at the dining room of the Cosmopolitan Hotel would lift her spirits, put a little life back in her eyes. It didn’t seem to be doing the trick. She spent most of her time with her eyes lowered, picking at her food.

  “Is there something wrong with your steak?” he asked.

  She straightened and glanced around the room. “No. It’s fine.” She even took a bite to prove it, but there was no enjoyment on her face.

  Then suddenly her eyes changed. Grew cautious. He turned to find Harriett and Ben Swanson wending their way toward them through the tables.

  “Hello,” Harriett offered. “I hope we’re not disturbing you.”

  “Of course not,” Spence offered. “I’d invite you to join us, but as you can see, our table isn’t quite large enough.” It was true, and he was suddenly glad he and LaRisa had been seated at a table only big enough for two. He didn’t think Harriett shared her mother’s views on Apaches, but where LaRisa was concerned, Spence wasn’t willing to take the chance. She seemed uncomfortable enough already.

  “I don’t believe you’ve met my husband, Ben.”

  Spence rose and shook hands as Harriett finished the round of introductions.

  “I’ve been meaning to come by your office for days,” Harriett said hesitantly. “But I guess I’m a coward.”

  “Is something wrong?” Spence asked her.

  “No,” she said quickly. “I mean, not with me. I mean, I’m not sick or anything. I just…” She looked at LaRisa, her face creased in worry. “I just wanted to apologize for the terrible things my mother said the other day. It was unforgivable of her, but she…well, she just won’t listen.”

  LaRisa’s face softened with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Believe me, I understand. I’m sure I’ve said worse things about whites before, until I got to know a few of them.”

  “Oh.” Harriett blinked. “I hadn’t realized…”

  “Now I see I’ve offended you.” LaRisa’s cheeks turned the color of the tomato soup she’d just finished. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, please don’t apologize,” Harriett said in a rush. “I hope we can just forget it. Although, I’m afraid my mother will never change her mind about Apaches. I hope you can just ignore her.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” LaRisa offered with a smile. “I’ve heard worse, believe me. How’s Janey?”

  Harriett relaxed and returned her smile. “She’s fine. She’s been lording it over all the neighborhood kids about getting her sooters out. She was quite taken with Doctor Spence and Missus Spence. She talks about both of you all the time. The next time she disappears, I guess I’ll know to come looking in your office. And if she shows up, you just send her on home.”

  The Swansons stayed another few minutes, with Ben actually getting a word in now and then, then they moved on to a table across the room for their dinner.

  LaRisa was more relaxed after they left. She even showed a little enthusiasm over the meal by finishing her steak.

  It struck Spence suddenly that he was the only person in town that LaRisa really knew. At the ranch she’d had Serena and Joanna; here she had no one. Not a single friend.

  How could he not have realized? Not that he thought a lack of friends was the only thing making LaRisa unhappy, but it certainly couldn’t help any. Maybe Harriett would prove to be the first.

  Of course, LaRisa didn’t always project a friendly demeanor. Hell, she’d argued with him every mile from Carlisle to Alabama, from Alabama to Tucson. It hadn’t kept him from wanting her. Her unhappiness didn’t, now, either. It had been days since he’d touched her, tasted her, felt her heat surrounding him.

  Just the thought of loving her made blood rush to his loins. He hoped she took her own sweet time eating that piece of apple pie the waitress had just brought. No way could he stand up just yet in front of all these people. Not until he calmed down.

  To distract himself, he mentally reviewed the patients he’d seen lately. The first one that came to mind was naturally the last person he’d seen that afternoon. He could have done without having to pick cactus spines out of Edwin Goetche’s hairy backside. Now there was a thought to cool a man’s ardor.

  On their way out of the hotel a few minutes later, they ran in to Lawrence Hoddinger. LaRisa was appalled when Spence eagerly accepted the man’s invitation to have dinner with him and Maryanne the next evening. The lovely blue-eyed, blond-haired Maryanne, whom Spence had once loved and planned to marry.

  “I was going to come by your house later this week anyway and check on Maryanne,” Spence told Hoddinger with a grin. “This way, she gets a free checkup, and we get a free meal.”

  “Fine, then. We’ll see you at seven.”

  LaRisa clenched her jaw and stepped out onto the boardwalk with Spence. He reached for her arm to guide her across the street. As if she couldn’t find her way on her own. She jerked free of his light grasp.

  “What was that for?” Spence asked, surprised.

  “What was that for?” she mimicked. “He announces his intentions of visiting the woman he used to love, probably still does, for all I know,” she muttered, plenty loud enough for him to hear, “and asks what that was for. He plans dinner with her and undoubtedly expects me to sit there and smile while his pretty little blue-eyed, blond-haired former lover pretends to forget my name again, and he asks what that was for.”

  Spence threw his head back and roared with laughter. He slung his arm across her shoulders and tugged her against his side.

  “Let go of me. I fail to see anything funny about any of this.”

  “Ah, LaRisa,” he said when he could speak again. “That’s the healthiest sign I’ve seen from you in weeks.”

  “What, that I fail to understand your sense of humor? That’s certainly nothing new.”

  He bared his teeth in a cheeky grin. “That you’re jealous.”

  Good God. She felt the blood drain from her face. Was he right? Could he possibly be right? No. No. No. She would not be jealous! She didn’t care enough about him to be jealous. She only wanted her freedom.

  “Hey.” He pulled her to a stop and with his hand, turned her face toward his. “Don’t look so stricken. Trust me, I don’t mind that you’re jealous. In fact, I like it a great deal.”

  “You’re mistaken.” She jerked her head from his touch and started off down the street at a brisk pace.

  “LaRisa.” He caught up with her in two strides. “Maryanne is one of Mac’s patients. She’s expecting a baby in a couple of weeks, and Mac asked that I check on her this week.”

  LaRisa refused to respond. At the door to Mac’s office, which they had to go through to get to the upstairs quarters, she waited for Spence to produce the key. A moment later he followed her inside and
up the stairs to their room.

  “Come on, LaRisa, you can’t possibly think I’m interested in Maryanne. She’s a very pregnant married woman, for heaven’s sake.”

  “I’m sure I don’t care how you feel about her.” She grabbed her buttonhook from the dresser and sat on the edge of the bed to unfasten her shoes.

  “You do, or you wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Think what you like.”

  Spence frowned as she set her shoes aside and started undressing. He’d wanted to see a little life in her eyes, but he’d never intended for her to be hurt. That’s what he saw in her eyes right now. Pain. Denial. She must care something for him, or she wouldn’t feel those things.

  She was twisting her arms behind her back, trying to reach the buttons on the back of her dress. There was no dressing screen in the room for her to hide behind.

  “Here.” He brushed her hands aside. “Let me.”

  She whirled away. “I can do it.”

  “I know you can.” He took her by the shoulders and turned her away from him. “But I’d like to, if it’s all right.”

  She stood stiff and unyielding as he undid the row of tiny buttons down the back of her dress. The corset underneath explained part of why she’d picked at her food. She wasn’t used to being cinched up like that. He released the laces and heard her exhale. In the mirror before them, he saw her eyes close in relief.

  “Risa.” He pushed the dress down her arms and cupped her bare shoulders. “Maryanne was never my lover, nor was I ever in love with her.”

  LaRisa felt the warmth of his touch and told herself to pull away. He hadn’t touched her in days and days, yet all it took was this, and she was ready to melt against him. She damned the weakness of her flesh. And of her heart, too, for it was that which ached when she thought of him with Maryanne.

  She didn’t want her heart to hurt over Spence. She didn’t want to care. She didn’t want her happiness to depend on him. She wanted…God, she didn’t know what she wanted anymore, except she knew that despite herself, she wanted his touch.

  “I know we made our vows lightly, thinking there was no need to worry about them.” Spence pulled her back against his chest and slid his arms around her waist. “But LaRisa, I promise you here and now, you will never have to worry about me turning to another woman.”