“But why—”
“No!” The word echoed on the air like a whistling lash of rawhide. “I’m taking you back to Hell’s Bluff tomorrow. We’ll start out at sunset, it will be cooler then so the trip will be easier for you. You’ll stay at the hotel until you’re fully recovered and then I’ll put you on the stage for Tucson. Can’t you see you don’t belong here? You almost died, dammit.”
“I may not belong here,” she whispered. Her eyes were enormous in her pale face. “But I do belong in Kantalan. Take me there.”
He muttered a curse beneath his breath. “Didn’t you listen to a word I said? You’re not going to Kantalan. You’re going home.” He turned on his heel and stomped toward the door. “Make up your mind to it. You’re definitely going home.”
As he uttered the last sentence the door opened to reveal Silver gazing at him with raised brows. “You’re sending someone else home?” she asked. “There will soon be no one left. I came to tell you Patrick has gone. He rode out a few minutes ago.”
Dominic experienced a sharp thrust of pain. It was what he had wanted, what was necessary, but that didn’t help relieve his sudden sense of terrible aloneness. “No, there will be no one left,” he repeated dully. He moved past Silver and stood in the doorway watching Patrick’s quickly retreating figure as the chestnut negotiated the twists of the winding trail that bordered the gorge. Then, as Patrick was lost to view beyond a curve in the trail, Dominic pulled his gaze away. “I picked up some soap and bandages in town. I’ll fetch them from my saddlebags.”
He shut the door behind him.
Elspeth gazed at the door, a pensive frown wrinkling her brow. She had glimpsed pain and sadness and poignant regret at the moment Dominic had left the cabin. She had thought him hard, even ruthless, and never dreamed he could display softer emotions. Her gaze moved to Silver’s face. “Why did he send Patrick away?”
“He loves him and he fears for him,” Silver said matter-of-factly. “There are many men who would like to kill Dominic and he thinks they will also kill the ones he loves. The Delaneys are a very close family and they protect their own.” She came to Elspeth’s side. “I’m glad he brought fresh bandages. It was difficult to keep these clean.” She began to untie the white linen binding Elspeth’s head wound. “It will be easier once we’re in Hell’s Bluff.”
“The Delaneys,” Elspeth murmured. She was suddenly intensely curious about the family that had brought forth such wildly differing offspring as Dominic, Patrick, and Silver. “Tell me about them, Silver.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“Everything. I’d like to know everything.”
Silver began to bathe the cut on Elspeth’s head. “The old man, Shamus, and his wife Malvina, came here from Ireland in 1842. They had nine sons and five are still living–Joshua, Falcon, Dominic, Cort, and Sean. He has three grandchildren; Patrick, Brianne, and William.”
“And you,” Elspeth said. “Patrick said you were his cousin.”
Silver’s eyes flickered. “The old man will not admit I am his kin. There is no proof. My mother was only an Indian who caught his son, Boyd’s, eye. He bedded her, left his seed, and rode out of our village without another thought. When my mother grew big with child, Sun Eagle, the brave to whom she had been promised, decided to redeem his honor. He killed Boyd Delaney and took my mother away to a tribe far to the north of here. When I was born, I had these.” Her hand gestured to indicate the startling crystal gray of her eyes. “Sun Eagle was willing to accept my mother, but not look upon me, her shame, with every passing day. One night he rode down from the north and left me wrapped in a blanket on the porch of the homestead at Killara.” Her lips twisted. “And the next morning Shamus sent me to the village of my mother’s father, Black Bear, with a message that I was no blood of his.”
Elspeth felt a surge of poignant sympathy. “How terrible for you.”
Silver’s expression became suddenly fierce. “Why? Black Bear was very kind to me. There were others in the village who had no use for a white man’s leavings, but I had no need of the old man’s charity. I would have been just as happy not to have ever seen the Delaneys again. It was Rising Star who made me come back to Killara.”
“Rising Star? I’ve heard that name mentioned before.”
“She is my aunt and married to Joshua. It was at the feasting when they were joined that Joshua’s brother met my mother. Joshua took my aunt to Killara and she lives there like a fine lady.” A fleeting wistfulness touched Silver’s expression. “When I was five she came to our camp and took me home with her. For four months of every year she kept me with her, giving me schooling and teaching me white men’s ways. It was a very brave thing for her to do. She has always been frightened of the old man and he didn’t want me there, even for just four months out of the year.”
“She sounds like a very splendid lady.”
Silver’s lips curved in a bittersweet smile. “I said she lives ‘like’ a fine lady, but she is Indian and the whites never let us forget.” Her expression softened. “But Rising Star truly is a wonderful woman. I am proud to call her my aunt. She bears her pain with the strength of a great warrior.”
“Pain?”
Silver’s lips thinned. “You have heard enough about the Delaneys. If you want to know more, you must ask your man to tell you.”
Elspeth’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “My man?”
Silver shrugged. “Dominic.”
Wild rose color stained Elspeth’s cheeks. “You misunderstood. He’s not my—” She moistened her lips and started again. “I know our circumstances are not the most proper but …”
Silver was gazing at her in puzzlement. “Why do you lie to me? When you wept and screamed in fear, only he could comfort you, and when he thought you were going to die, he was as fierce and sorrowful as if you had been his squaw for many years. I know the signs of belonging.” An ironic smile touched her lips. “One who does not belong anywhere can always read such signs very well.”
“Well, you’ve read the signs wrong this time.” Had Dominic genuinely felt concern for her? The idea was fascinating. She wondered if he had really looked at her with pain and sorrow as Silver claimed. It was clear he wasn’t as hard a man as she had first thought. His love for his nephew, Patrick, was plain enough to see; there was no mistaking the remorse he felt for his part in her injury. She had even believed for a moment that he was going to give in to her plea to lead her to Kantalan. Still, Silver had to be mistaken.
“You are smiling,” Silver said softly, her shrewd gaze fixed on Elspeth’s face. “I think perhaps the idea of belonging to Dominic does not displease you.” Then, as Elspeth opened her lips to protest, Silver placed two fingers on them to silence her. “Hush, be silent now and rest. Later you can think of man-woman things.”
The next evening Elspeth found she could think of little else besides man-woman things. For the principal reason that she found all the curves and valleys of her woman’s body were pressed against Dominic’s equally obvious masculine attributes.
Silver had dressed her in a pair of her own knee-high moccasins and a clean blue shirt belonging to Dominic that came past her knees. Then she had wrapped Elspeth so tightly in the freshly washed tan blanket that she could scarcely move a muscle.
“There. Just like an Indian baby in a papoose,” she had said with satisfaction. “I will tell Dominic he can take you now. I will clean up the cabin and follow you to Hell’s Bluff when I finish.”
“Take me?” Elspeth asked faintly.
“You are too weak to sit on a saddle. He will have to take you up in front of him.” Then, noticing Elspeth’s suddenly apprehensive expression, she continued comfortingly, “Don’t worry, Dominic is a fine rider, almost as good as an Apache. He won’t let you fall.”
“That’s very reassuring.”
There was nothing in the least reassuring, however, just an hour later as she lay across the saddle in the curve of Dominic’s arm. She was pressed
against Dominic’s hard, muscular body with every swaying step the stallion took.
The layers of material separating them might have been nonexistent for all the difference they made. Intimacy. She was feeling that same blinding sense of intimacy she had experienced when Dominic had taken her naked foot and held it against the same rigidity that was pressing against her hip at this very moment. The side of her soft breast brushed against him with every movement and she was beginning to feel a strange painful tautness in and around her nipples.
Heat. Heat was surrounding her, touching her, overpowering her. It was the blanket, she thought hazily. She had to get rid of this blanket wrapped so tightly around her or she would suffocate. She began to fight her way out of the woolen folds.
“What are you doing?” Dominic’s voice was oddly thick. “For God’s sake, can’t you be still?”
“I’m hot. The blanket …”
“You can’t be any warmer than I am,” he said dryly. “And I don’t have the excuse of a blanket.”
“Please.” The heat was growing. She could feel the flush of it on her skin and the crests of her breasts were beginning to feel acutely sensitive and swollen. “I think I’m getting sick. I want to sit up.”
“So that you can fall off the blasted horse?”
“Silver said you wouldn’t let me fall. Please, just for a little while. I’m beginning to feel so peculiar.”
He muttered something beneath his breath and suddenly his hands were on the blanket, holding her steady with one while with the other he unwound the blanket from around her. “This is a mistake.”
“No, I’ll feel much better once I’m no longer so warm.” Then the blanket was gone, draped over the horn of the saddle, and she did feel cooler with the gentle evening breeze caressing her cheeks and pressing the soft blue shirt against her body. Though she was still feeling that strange tingling in her breasts and difficulty in breathing. “Now help me to sit up.”
He moved back in the saddle and was lifting her so she was astride the horse, her back pressed against his chest. His breathing was labored and as his chest lifted and fell, it touched her back with every movement. She guessed that shifting her had been strenuous for him and said, “I’m sorry I troubled you. I’ll be fine now. Just forget about me.”
Forget about her? Dominic almost laughed aloud. How could he forget about her when that enticing bottom was pressed against his groin and every motion of the stallion resulted in a friction that caused him to gasp with desire. “I’ll try.” His throat was so tight, the words were barely audible.
“You told me once I wouldn’t be able to return to Hell’s Bluff.”
“There’s no place else for you to go. I promise no one will make you feel the least bit uncomfortable.” He could see the pale gleam of her thighs beneath the tail of his shirt and the start of the leather moccasins. He wanted to run his hand slowly down her thigh and then push the shirt up to her waist. He wanted to put his palms on the tight golden-brown curls he had fondled once before and press hard. He wanted to unbutton the blue shirt that clothed her and watch her breasts as they bounced and shimmered in the moonlight. He wanted to sink his tongue into the ear so close to his lips and tease her until she was as hot and aching as he was.
“This is a very nice horse,” Elspeth said. “He has a much smoother gait than that horrible horse I rode to the cabin. Does he have a name?”
“Blanco.”
“But he’s black as midnight. Why would you call him Blanco?”
“Because he wasn’t. At the time I thought it was hilarously funny.”
“Really?” she asked doubtfully. “I don’t quite see—”
“I was drunk.”
“Oh.” She turned to look at him and a swath of her hair moved against his lips in a silken, sensual kiss. “I’m afraid I paid no attention when you brought me here. How far is it to Hell’s Bluff?
“Too far,” he muttered. “Will you just not move.”
“I’m sorry I bothered you,” she said with hurt dignity. “I only wondered.”
He was wondering too. He was wondering what she would do if he turned her in the saddle, freed himself, and sunk deep within her. He wondered if she would be frightened if he wrapped her legs around his hips and buried his tongue in her mouth. He wondered what she would do if he lifted her breasts to his mouth and suckled his fill. He wondered all these painful, hungry thoughts while the heat built and the swelling in his groin increased and he prayed he’d make it to Hell’s Bluff before wondering became reality.
Elspeth leaned back against his chest and sighed despondently. He was angry with her again. The softness she had sensed in him when he had returned yesterday morning was now completely gone. Her gaze fell on his hand on her stomach that was steadying her on the saddle. It was a beautiful hand, she thought dreamily. His long, tanned fingers were splayed across the blue cotton shirt and looked slim, capable, and strong. She could feel the imprint of each finger through the thin cotton and she suddenly remembered how gently his fingertips had moved over her naked body, touching, brushing and then moving on until …
She moved restlessly against Dominic and she heard him inhale sharply. She tried to turn and look at him again, but his hand on her stomach suddenly tightened, crumpling the fabric. “No!”
His voice held a heaviness, a guttural deepness that sent a queer warm shiver through her. Heat again. The wind that touched her face and pushed the cotton of the shirt against her breasts was no longer cool but scorching. It hadn’t been the blanket, she realized, but Dominic Delaney who had brought the heat. She had always thought fear was cold, and it must be fear that was causing the blood to tingle through every vein.
After all, fear was the natural reaction when a man had nearly ravished you. Yet should she not be experiencing the urge to escape instead of this melting acquiescence? No, it couldn’t be fear, then. Her brow wrinkled thoughtfully as her usual curiosity came to the forefront at this startling realization. She would think about it, examine this new emotion, and determine why it so unsettled her. Elspeth settled her head more comfortably against Dominic’s breast, her gaze on the moon rising above the purple-shadowed mountains, and began to wonder.
She wondered why her breasts were suddenly swollen, the nipples pressing against the soft cotton as if pleading for release. She wondered why the rhythmic pounding of the leather saddle against that most private part of her was causing an ache that held no pain. She wondered why his hand on the gently rounded flesh of her stomach seemed to become heavier and more possessive with each passing moment. She wondered why his warm breath against her ear was causing an odd languor to attack the muscles of her neck and shoulders.
They were silent for the remainder of the journey.
Wondering.
Dominic took no physical action.
Elspeth came to no conclusions.
It seemed a long, long time to both of them before they saw the lights of Hell’s Bluff.
8
“It’s nothing personal, you understand.” Will Judkins’s gaze sidled away from Elspeth’s stunned expression as he opened the door to the hall. “You’re welcome to stay until tomorrow morning. That will give Dominic time enough to find you a place more … suitable.”
She hadn’t realized how cold and stern the hotel owner’s face could be. He had always had a genial smile on his face when she had encountered him before, and he had never shown her anything but kindness. Yet now his manner was brisk to the point of rudeness. “I thought your hotel was a very suitable place for me,” she said haltingly. “I know I’ve been a bother for the last week, but it shouldn’t be much longer until I’m well, and Silver has been preparing all my meals—”
“I don’t look upon that dirty breed’s presence in my kitchen as a help.” Judkins’s lips thinned. “And neither does my wife. That young heathen nearly frightened her out of a year’s growth. She pulled a knife on her and told her to stay out of her way when she came downstairs or she’d take her
scalp and hang it on the sign out front. My wife has refused to leave our room ever since, and I’m having to do the cooking for our guests.” His gaze returned to where Elspeth was lying on the bed, and his jaw squared belligerently. “Not that there are many guests left, what with a half-breed and a fancy lady sashaying all over my respectable hotel. I run a place where men can bring their wives and children not a whore—”
“Silver is not dirty.” Elspeth’s eyes were blazing as she sat up straight in bed. “I’d wager she bathes far more frequently than you do. I don’t know about her being a heathen, we’ve never discussed it, but she’s kind and generous and if she threatened Mrs. Judkins, I’m sure your wife deserved it.”
“She did.” Silver pushed the half-ajar door open wide and entered the room carrying a round tray covered by a blue and white checked napkin. “The woman is a screeching fool. She called me a savage.” Her white teeth gleamed as she smiled faintly. “And I showed her I could behave truly as the savage she named me.” She turned her gaze on Will Judkins. “As I will show you if you do not stop bothering us.”
Judkins’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. “You don’t scare me. You’re nothing but an Apache squaw. Shamus was right to bundle you back to those other heathens. I would have done the same.”
Silver’s eyes widened until they seemed to hold winter sunlight in their depths. “Do you wish to see my knife too, white man?” she asked softly. “An Apache squaw knows well how to use one. Perhaps you have heard stories? They give prisoners to us women first so that we may teach them the meaning of pain before they learn of death.”
Judkins moistened his suddenly dry lips. “This is my hotel and if I say you go—” He edged toward the door, his gaze fixed warily on Silver. “You go! I have friends in this town. If you’re not out of this room by tomorrow morning, we’ll maybe form a little party and see how you like being run out of town.” He glanced at Elspeth. “None of this is my fault and I won’t lose money because Dominic is afraid Rina will be jealous if he sets you up over at her place, where you belong.” His lips pursed and his voice rose righteously. “You can’t expect to have it both ways, the wages of sin are—”
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