by Gigi Moore
Though he felt out of his element in the bar since he hadn’t been out on the town in more years than he cared to count, Wyatt thought he couldn’t seem more out of place in the boisterous, ribald climate than the doctor. He had no reason to think that the elder Malloy couldn’t hold his own with any of the men in town, but unlike his younger brother Cade, Thayne Malloy had always struck Wyatt as quiet and serious, more of a homebody, more like Wyatt himself, at least the way he was now. Doctor Malloy had always struck him as trustworthy and responsible, and regardless of the relationship Thayne Malloy shared with his wife and brother, Wyatt felt like the man was a kindred spirit.
It was for these reasons that when he moved down the bar to close the space between Wyatt, Rusty, and Brand, Wyatt shifted his position to accommodate the doctor’s appearance.
Wyatt did the honors and introduced Doctor Malloy to Rusty and Brand.
“It’s a pleasure, gentlemen.” Doctor Malloy shook each man’s hand. “But please, call me Thayne. ‘Doctor Malloy’ makes me feel so old. Not to mention, I’m off the clock,” he added with a grin that took at least ten years off his face and made him look even more like his brother.
Wyatt and his friends all laughed at this since Thayne Malloy was decades younger than old Doc Hopwood had been. That man had been old from the time he’d first visited the Baldwin homestead to treat Wyatt for a case of croup twenty years ago when Wyatt had been just six.
Wyatt wasn’t too sure what “off the clock” meant—Thayne, his wife, and brother all had a funny way of talking sometimes—but if it meant what he thought it did then Thayne’s statement couldn’t have been further from the truth. He always seemed to be on duty as far as Wyatt was concerned, either running when summoned by one of the territory families or taking care of the bullet wounds that didn’t send their victims to the bone orchard of course.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you out on the town since my wife and brother and I settled in Elk Creek and that’s going on several months now,” Thayne said.
Wyatt shrugged, not knowing what to say to the observation and feeling as if he was being judged and tried for a crime he hadn’t committed. Maybe he was just feeling prickly as he hadn’t been out of the house and away from Lily for any length of time that didn’t involve their farm or the house. He hadn’t been in town for anything involving pleasure or sport since before Lily’s attack and he didn’t count their recent jaunt into Elk Creek when Lily visited Maia and Sabrina’s store.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Thayne asked, “So, did my wife and Sabrina manage to talk you into any purchases from the store for that lovely wife of yours, or did you escape with your bank account intact?”
Wyatt chuckled and shook his head. “Actually, we didn’t make any purchases the other day, but I think Lily had her eye on a few concoctions. I’m sure we’ll be back.”
“If she’s anything like most of the women who visit the store, I’m sure you will. And prepare to dig into your savings.”
Wyatt smiled when Thayne slapped him on the back and for some reason he felt a thousand times more comfortable in the man’s company than he ever had before. He felt more comfortable thinking of him as just “Thayne” and not “Doctor Malloy” anyway.
The place where Thayne touched Wyatt gradually warmed beneath his hand. Wyatt couldn’t tell if it was him or Thayne producing the heat, but it seemed to spread from his shoulder to engulf his entire body in a shimmering healing force. He’d never felt such a sense of well-being and peace, except maybe for when his parents were still alive, or when he used to fall asleep with Lily wrapped in his arms.
Wyatt closed his eyes against the pain that last image dredged up.
Tarnation, holding Lily had once seemed so natural to him, the grail to look forward to at the end of a long day of hard work out in the fields or building around the house. Now he was tentative around her like he was afraid to cross some invisible barrier that circumstances had erected between them, afraid to upset the delicate balance.
“Everything all right, Wyatt?”
He opened his eyes at the deep, smooth sound of the doctor’s voice and caught the man’s probing blue gaze.
Since meeting Thayne and his brother, and even Maia to a lesser degree, Wyatt had always had the disconcerting feeling that they all knew more about him and Lily than they let on. He felt like they could see inside his and his wife’s souls, which was just plumb crazy thinking.
“Yeah, Wy, you look like you been rode hard and hung up wet,” Rusty said.
“I’m fine. It’s been so long since I’ve had any hooch, it’s hitting me harder than I expected it to.”
Thayne laughed and patted him on the back of the shoulder again.
Wyatt had never before noticed how easy the doctor touched those around him, but he guessed in his line of work it was a hazard of the profession. He remembered how Thayne had gently squeezed Lily’s shoulder when he’d told her about Dakota’s condition, the reassuring smile he had given her when he spoke. His manner seemed to put everyone around him at ease and Wyatt supposed the touching was all a part of that.
“Well, Wyatt, you’ve just become a regular teetotaler. We’re going to have to remedy that tonight,” Brand said.
“And you know the dance is next Saturday, Wyatt,” Rusty added. “Going to put on your best bib and tucker and bring that fine lady of your’n along?”
Wyatt frowned. “What dance?”
“Tarnation, you have been tucked away on that farm o’ your’n for too long. It’s the dance the town puts on to see us hardworking cowboys off on another cattle drive.”
Wyatt exchanged looks with the three men, sensing their expectation as if they waited for him to say something like of course he was going, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
“You are coming, aren’t you?” Thayne asked. “Maia would love to spend some girl time with Lily.”
Wyatt couldn’t help thinking that his and Lily’s coming wouldn’t just be for the benefit of Lily spending “girl time” with Maia Malloy. It felt to him, at least from the look on Thayne’s face, that he had something personal at stake here, too. Wyatt just didn’t know what. Not to mention that job offer Maia had made to Lily was still out there and he was sure the girl time would involve them discussing that in more detail. “I’ll mention it to Lily and see what she wants to do.” Even as he said the words, Wyatt knew that he would be bringing Lily to the dance.
He just didn’t know what they were going to do about the Indian.
Chapter 8
Dakota watched Lily as she slept, heart squeezing in his chest at the lines of tension around her generous mouth. Even in sleep she frowned, her worry for Wyatt’s well-being carrying over into unconsciousness.
He had spent the better part of the evening trying to calm her down and reassure her that she had not lost her husband, that Wyatt would return and then they would discuss things.
Lily wanted none of it. She was convinced that she had forever alienated her husband and that it would serve her right if he never returned to her again. She thought she had driven him away with her wanton ways, her un-wifely behavior.
Dakota had to stop her at calling herself a whore. He could not tolerate her putting herself down like that, especially not when he remembered the horrible names some in his tribe had called his mother for being daring enough, or foolish enough—perception depended on whom one asked—to marry a white man.
Dakota’s grandfather understood his daughter following her heart. He had not agreed with her choice, but he respected that his daughter had to follow her own path. Others in the tribe had not been as tolerant and to this day, Dakota was not totally accepted among their ranks. The only reason he was accepted at all was because of who his grandfather was and his own prowess as a brave that he had proved over and over again since he had reached his thirteenth year.
Lily tossed in her sleep, throwing out an arm as if reaching for something beyond her grasp. “Wyat
t? Wyatt, please…”
Dakota watched her beneath the ambient glow of the kerosene lamp on the bedside table. He had been holding vigil since Lily had gone to sleep, gladly watching over her since he was half responsible for the pain she suffered.
He could not change what had happened, but he was not so sure that he would change what happened even if he could. He did not want to take back that kiss. Indeed, he wanted to feel Lily’s lips beneath his again. He wanted to kiss her—her mouth, her full breasts, her sweet pussy—and much more.
He supposed somewhere in the back of his mind he had known that Wyatt was nearby, within watching distance. He had heard the noise in the vestibule but had blocked it out, too preoccupied with the woman in his arms, finally. As the seconds ticked by and Lily responded to his touch, he barely cared if they were being watched. The recklessness soon turned into a twisted sense of exhibitionism. The longer the intimate moment with Lily stretched with Wyatt not revealing himself, the more Dakota took pleasure in knowing Wyatt might be watching. Believing Wyatt watched made him hungry for Wyatt to join them.
What kind of man was he to feel that way? And why hadn’t Wyatt barged in to interrupt them? Dakota had fully anticipated having to defend himself against Lily’s enraged husband. Instead, Wyatt had fled.
Dakota’s mouth watered now at all the things he wanted to do to and with Lily, and his chest filled at the guilt he felt for putting her marriage in jeopardy. He was just as much at fault, if not more so, than Lily or Wyatt.
Even still, he could not wait for Wyatt to return so that he could have words with the man for causing Lily such unnecessary grief.
At the thought, Dakota became aware of the sound of a horse and wagon outside, quickly approaching the house.
He knew that Wyatt had torn out of here on a stallion so wondered who else could be coming down the road as if he or she belonged since it was too late in the evening for “decent folks” to come neighboring.
He’d noticed neither Lily nor Wyatt did much neighboring. They seemed too preoccupied with being miserable and separate in each other’s company.
Dakota rested a lingering look at Lily’s face, and took a moment to pull the covers up to her shoulders, knowing as he did that she would knock them off as she fretted in her sleep. She had not stopped fretting since Wyatt left and she had not eaten dinner. It had made his heart ache that he could not get her to eat no matter how much coaxing he had done. He wanted to take care of her the way she had taken care of him when he needed it, but Lily would not allow him to.
Dakota went to the window and pulled back the curtain to see the horse and wagon pull up just outside of the house. He could just make out two men in the front seat with a kerosene lantern sitting between them and wondered what business the town doctor and his brother had out these parts.
Had something happened to Wyatt, or was Thayne here to see him and conduct another physical examination?
Dakota watched as the two men got down from the front of the wagon and walked around to the back to retrieve something from the buckboard.
Make that someone.
Dakota let the curtain drop back into place and rushed down the stairs to the front door.
By the time he opened it, Thayne and his brother Cade had reached the front porch supporting Wyatt between them, half walking and half dragging his sizable form.
“Thank you kindly for getting the door, Dakota,” Thayne said.
“What happened to him?”
“A little too much celebrating,” Cade muttered.
Celebrating? Dakota wondered as he stepped aside to let the trio into the house. He closed the door behind them as soon as they had crossed the threshold and headed to the great room where they sat Wyatt on the sofa.
They stood beside the sofa for a moment as if to ensure that their charge was okay then glanced at Dakota as he approached.
He peered at Wyatt and could see that he had had a little too much to drink. He stayed away from the white man’s firewater specifically for this reason. He never wanted to lose control of his faculties and leave himself at the mercy of anyone else for his well-being. Wyatt was lucky two honorable men like the Malloy brothers had been available to see him home safely. Despite this, he asked, “Will he be okay?”
“He’ll live to regret his overindulgence.” Thayne grinned.
Dakota was sure that the doctor was right and Wyatt would be okay. He just worried how Lily would take things when she saw her husband. Knowing how sensitive and compassionate a woman she was, she would surely blame herself for Wyatt’s excess and indisposition.
Both Thayne and Cade waited, glancing around the room as if they were lost or searching for something to do with their time now that their duty to a fallen comrade had been fulfilled.
Thayne finally broke the silence and asked, “Is Lily around?”
“She is asleep.”
Thayne and Cade exchanged frowns then Thayne peered at Dakota. “Everything all right between you three?”
Dakota was not sure how to answer that without sounding defensive so remained silent.
“Dakota, is there something you need to tell us?”
“Why would you ask that?”
Thayne looked at his brother as if for permission to speak, but before he could say anything, Cade blurted, “Thayne mentioned a little vibe he felt between you two—you and Lily.”
Now it was Dakota’s turn to frown. “Vibe?”
“You have feelings for her.”
Dakota did not see where this was any of the two brothers’ business, but sensed their concern for both Lily and Wyatt. This, his slow-to-anger nature and curiosity were the reasons he did not lose his temper. “Lily is married to Wyatt,” he stated.
The brothers exchanged looks again then each turned back to him, appearing amused.
Dakota did not understand their levity. If he were a friend of Wyatt’s as these two men seemed to be, he would be eager to stand up for his friend’s honor and not allow an interloper like him to threaten Wyatt’s marriage.
Dakota usually did not listen to gossip, especially when it came to the goings-on in the white man’s towns. He could not, however, totally discount the rumors about Thayne, his wife, and Cade that had reached the Indian reservation. The trio had been the talk of neighboring settlements far and wide since their arrival to Elk Creek almost a year ago.
As the silence stretched between them all, Dakota recalled how some in the settlement had received the information, putting it down to the unseemly behavior of the white man.
“And yet they consider us uncivilized.”
This had come from one of the many females at the reservation, the same sort who had spoken of Lily unkindly when he had first brought her to his village.
How unkindly would they speak of him if they knew what sort of relationship he considered with Lily and her husband, not just a white woman, but a married white woman?
“There’s nothing wrong with how you feel, Dakota,” Thayne said as if reading his mind.
Dakota met the other man’s warm blue gaze and thought he might be speaking more from personal experience than any mind-reading abilities.
He could understand why the townspeople responded so well to him, considering him a friend as well as a gifted healer. He was sincere and the kind of man one could entrust one’s secrets to and not fear censure or reprisal.
Despite his relative youth, Thayne’s calm, steady, and soft-spoken manner reminded Dakota of his grandfather.
He wondered what his grandfather would have to say about his feelings for Lily and the situation with her and her husband. Marrying outside of one’s race like Dakota’s mother had done was one thing, but participating in a ménage a trois was something totally different and would probably be even more offensive to his people.
This should have concerned him except that Dakota did not live among his people and had not for a long time. He visited the reservation often enough to check up on loved ones, especially his grandfat
her, but he usually did not allow what others thought to influence his actions. His mother, father, and grandfather had raised him to be his own man and not too many years after his mother’s and father’s deaths Dakota had been on his own, traveling far and wide, working for and with white men in numerous capacities as an army scout and tracker and even a cowboy on cattle drives. He had no permanent home, which made it easy for him to keep an eye on Lily and Wyatt, a practice that had probably, regrettably, gotten him shot.
Briefly, he wondered about the man who had attacked him, knowing that the shooting had not been an accident. Living out among nature as he did, Dakota often ran the risk of coming up against the wrong end of a homesteader’s or rancher’s rifle. The attack on him, however, had been expedient and…personal.
He shook his head to rid himself of the unpleasant thoughts for the time being and focused on his current situation.
Despite his independence and privacy, Dakota could not help but worry how this all would affect someone like Lily and, to a lesser degree, Wyatt. They were vulnerable to the views of their neighbors whether they wanted to admit it or not, balancing on a fine edge of isolation from their own people and still tentatively feeling their way around each other like newlyweds.
“How do you know how I feel when I am not yet sure myself?” Dakota rasped.
“Trust us, Dakota. We’ve been there, done that, and have a T-shirt for it,” Thayne said.
“In fact, we’re still there and doing it. Learning new things and feeling our way around each other twenty-four-seven,” Cade put in.
Dakota looked from one man to the other and thought that they spoke even more strangely than most white men he knew. Despite this, he understood the heart of what they were trying to convey. They lived and had an intimate attachment to a Negro woman, making Thayne and Cade more tolerant to other races than the average white man in Dakota’s eyes. He thought they might actually understand his uncommon situation with Lily and Wyatt—a situation that was not yet a situation.
