Texas Hero

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  She had to escape these madmen. But how?

  "I'll bet she's been knocked senseless." The other gunman took a step closer. With the toe of his boot he boldly lifted her skirt and kicked at her ankle.

  "Can you talk, woman?"

  Caroline watched with a feeling of revulsion as he leered down at her.

  "Fox, check her hands for rings," Luke ordered.

  The gunman grabbed her hands and, seeing nothing, turned them palms up to make certain she wasn't hiding anything.

  "She's not wearing any rings, Luke."

  "See if she's wearing a locket or some other jewelry." "With pleasure."

  Laughing, the gunman caught the front of her dress in his hands and ripped it open, revealing a delicately embroidered chemise beneath.

  Caroline gasped, then fought back the cry that rose to her throat.

  Though the gunman could see that she wore no chain around her neck, he was obviously enjoying the task given 1 him.

  "I'd better check this out more carefully, Luke. I'm! going to have to strip her." j The other two gunmen joined in his laughter as he bentj closer. Without warning he let out a shriek of pain as she I raked her fingernails across his cheek. ; "Looks like you got a wildcat by the tail,"

  Luke taunted. | Touching a hand to his face. Fox stared at the blood a| moment, then slapped her so hard her head snapped to one| side. . | Biting her lip against the pain, she made not a sound. | "You little witch," he cried.

  "Now you're going to pay format."

  "Go ahead. Fox. It's the least she should do for you, in fact, for all of us, if she isn't going to have anything else of value.

  After all, we don't rob stages for the fun of it." " Maybe you don't. But this ought to prove to be more fun than I've had in years. "

  While the other two laughed, the gunman dug his fingers into her hair and yanked her head back until the pain brought tears to her eyes.

  "You know,"

  he said, tossing her hat aside and pulling the spectacles from her face, "if it weren't for those ugly clothes and the fact that you don't know how to treat a man, you might not be half-bad." He started to press his lips to hers but she twisted away and gave him a vicious kick with the heel of her boot as she scrambled free. The two men hooted with laughter as Fox groaned and doubled up with pain. But when she got to her feet and started running, the laughter died on their lips.

  Luke fired into the air and she spun around to face him. With the bodice of her gown gaping open and her hair spilling around her face and shoulders in wild tangles, she no longer resembled the prim female they'd seen lying on the ground only minutes ago.

  "This woman has spirit," Luke said, eyeing her with new appreciation.

  He took several steps toward her, an evil smile splitting his lips.

  "I think she's going to be more rewarding than the gold we got paid for this."

  "You'll have to kill me first." Caroline's words were spoken through gritted teeth.

  "So, the woman has a voice after all." Luke threw back his head and gave a cruel laugh.

  "Honey, that's what they all say. But they don't mean it.

  Nobody ever wants to die." He was too busy talking to see the fire in her eyes. But The Texan had seen it. And he could hear the ice in her tone as she warned,

  "Then you don't know me very well. I'll die before I'll submit." With that she turned and began to run. Though her movements were hampered by the clumsy skirt and petticoat, she was surprisingly swift. Luke soon overtook her.

  Flinging her roughly over his shoulder, he carried her back to where the others stood laughing and jeering.

  He tossed her to the ground and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. As she lay there, her breath coming in painful gasps, the three men circled her.

  "Now," Luke said with a grin, "we're going to introduce you to pleasure, Texas-style."

  He leaned down and ran the tip of his knife between her breasts, cutting open her chemise. Seeing the way she cringed, he said to the others,

  "You don't suppose she's never done anything like this before, do you, boys? A virgin.

  Now wouldn't that be better'n gold? "

  The other two laughed in agreement.

  They were so busy, none of them took any notice of the man who had been working feverishly at his ropes. Now, as the strands began to unravel, he lifted his hands to his teeth and tore at the last of the bindings. | As Luke grabbed a fistful of the woman's hair, he felt!

  the cold steel of a revolver pressed to his temple and heard a savage voice directly behind him. ; "Unless you let go of her right now, there won't bej enough left of you to pleasure a woman ever again." I In one quick motion Luke dragged Caroline in front of] him, holding her like a shield, and pressed his knife to her throat. I With a nervous laugh he cried,

  "You wouldn't want toi risk hurting an innocent woman, would you, Texan?"

  Caroline's eyes widened as the stranger calmly leveled his revolver.

  She could see, by the steely look in those eyes, that he had every intention of doing just that. She had no time to react as, with calm deliberation, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot echoed through her ears as the man behind her slumped against her, pressing her to the ground. For one terrible moment she didn't know whether or not she'd been hit. She felt the sticky warmth of blood seeping through her gown. Hers? she wondered. Or his?

  While she recoiled in horror, there were several more blasts of gunfire.

  By the time she managed to crawl out from beneath the dead gunman, his two partners had disappeared over a ridge.

  Disgusted at their escape, the stranger bolstered his gun. Rendered speechless, Caroline could do nothing more than stare at the man who, alone and without a single flicker of emotion, had calmly shot down five vicious killers and sent two more retreating. He had to be every bit as vicious as the men he'd shot. And she was now at his mercy.

  Everything about this stranger bespoke danger. He was tall and rangy, with a gun belt slung low on his hips. Black pants and tall boots were caked with dust. His hair was bleached the color of bronze by the sun, and his skin, beneath several days' growth of golden beard, was tawny. Pale blue eyes narrowed as he took in the gaping bodice, the wild spill of hair. There was a hardness to his features that had her throat going dry. If those gunmen had been afraid of him, she had even more reason to be.

  His voice, when he spoke, was low and deep, his tone abrupt, as though he resented having to stay with her when he could be chasing the two who got away.

  "Woman, what's your name?"

  She swallowed and prayed her voice wouldn't betray her terror.

  "Caroline Adams."

  Caroline. His eyes narrowed perceptibly. Caroline was cool, correct, proper, like the woman he had first seen. Right now, the name didn't suit her. Not when she was lying here, half-undressed, with her hair tumbling around her shoulders and her eyes still wide with fear. And her voice.

  There was a breathless quality to it, unlike anything he'd heard before.

  He dropped to one knee beside her and she cringed from his touch. "Are you badly hurt?"

  "Just a few bruises." Seeing the direction of his gaze, she nervously drew the remnants of her bodice together.

  At the first sight of her, Thad's throat went dry. Though she tried to hide it, he'd already glimpsed the lush body hidden beneath the drab, shapeless clothes. It wasn't often in this hot Texas wilderness that he was privileged to see unblemished skin that had never been touched by the sun. He pulled his gaze upward past a pale, creamy throat to a face so beautiful it made his breath hitch. Thick masses of dark hair swirled around her face and shoulders. Little corkscrew curls kissed her cheeks.

  Her eyes could have been green or gold. In the sunlight they danced with glints of amber. Her nose was small and tilted up as though in disdain. Her mouth was perfectly formed, with a full lower lip ; that for some strange reason made him think about the taste of cool whiskey on a sultry night.


  If he hadn't seen her with his own eyes, he would have sworn this couldn't be the same female he'd first glimpsed, 1 wearing spectacles and a silly hat on hah- wrapped as tight I as a pig's. | His frown deepened. The transformation from spinster to| seductress electrified him. This woman whose cheeks | flamed beneath his gaze was more tempting than any of the | girls at Lilah's could ever hope to be. s

  "Where did you come from?" Thad tried to keep his gaze averted, to give the woman time to compose herself and rearrange her clothing. "I was on the stage." Caroline sat up, clutching her bodice, unaware of the fact that her skirt had twisted, displaying a shapely leg.

  "They shot the driver and guard."

  "And you were thrown clear?"

  "I jumped."

  She could read the surprise in his eyes.

  "You jumped? From a runaway stage?"

  "I didn't see that I had any choice."

  He studied the small, slender figure. There was a strength there that wasn't visible at first glance.

  "Can you stand?"

  Again she backed away as he made a move to touch her. Ignoring her protest, he helped her to her feet. Though she winced slightly and he heard her sharp intake of breath, she remained standing and disengaged herself from his grasp.

  So the lady didn't want his help. Well, he was in no mood to give it.

  But it looked like they were stuck with each other for the moment.

  "Where are you headed?"

  "A town called Hope."

  He experienced another shock. Glancing at the darkening sky, he hoped his sudden brisk tone masked his surprise.

  "You won't be able to make it before this storm rolls in."

  Taking up the reins, he led his horses beneath an outcropping of rock and began to unsaddle his mount.

  As she watched, Caroline's eyes widened in disbelief.

  "You mean you intend to spend the night here?"

  "May as well. It looks like the best shelter from the storm."

  "But..."

  She searched her mind frantically. She couldn't just spend the night here, alone with this dangerous stranger.

  "What about the stage? And the horses?" She thought about her clothes and her precious store of books.

  She had spent every last dollar to buy those books.

  "My trunks were aboard the stage."

  He shrugged.

  "You can keep an eye out for the team tomorrow, when we head for town.

  If we don't find the stage in pieces along the trail, it will mean they made it to town, and your things along with them." He slipped the saddle from his horse and nearly dropped it as pain shot through him.

  Caroline saw the way he gingerly touched a hand to his shoulder and felt a sudden wave of shame. This man had just saved her life, and she had completely overlooked the fact that he'd been shot.

  "Let me help you.

  You're wounded. "

  " It's nothing. Just a bullet. "

  Just a bullet? She studied the crimson stain that smeared his sleeve and chest.

  "Have you ever been shot before?"

  "Enough times to know I won't die."

  "Maybe, but the pain must be terrible. I'll bind it for you." Turning away, she tore a strip from her petticoat and swiveled to face him.

  "Give me your arm."

  Reluctantly he stuck his arm out at a stiff angle and watched as she wrapped the white cloth around his wound. While she bent to her task he studied the top of her head. It barely reached his shoulder. When she rolled back his sleeve and tied the ends of the cloth, her fingers brushed his skin. Soft.

  Her touch was so soft. He felt his stomach muscles contract and he pulled away more roughly than he'd intended.

  "That'll do it," he said gruffly.

  "I'll have Doc dig out the bullet when we get to town."

  He set about making a fire. When that was done he untied a bedroll from behind his saddle and tossed her a blanket. Using his saddle for a pillow, he lay down and pulled his hat low over his face.

  "What are you doing?"

  He glanced up.

  "Going to sleep."

  "But what...?" She heard the rumble of thunder and shivered. "Look,"

  he said patiently,

  "I can see that you don't like the idea of sleeping with a stranger.

  You can sleep out there if you want." He pointed to a stand of cacti a hundred yards away, then closed his eyes and pulled his hat lower.

  "But I'd advise you to take shelter in here with me and the horses. It doesn't rain often in this part of Texas. But I when it does, it pours." , ; Fuming, Caroline wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and watched as he calmly rolled to his side. Within minutes he was sound asleep.

  Chapter Two

  I he first drops of rain splashed Caroline's face.

  Snatching up a thick club for protection, she scrambled under the outcropping of rock where The Texan slept. She stood uncertainly, staring morosely into the night, and wondered for the hundredth time how far she was from town.

  If she started walking. Somewhere in the distance a coyote howled and the hair on the back of her neck rose. She changed her mind. Her only hope was to wait out the night. She wouldn't stand a chance alone in this wilderness.

  She glanced at the sleeping figure. Even at rest he looked dangerous.

  The rifle lay in the dirt beside his left hand. His right hand rested atop his pistol.

  He had chosen his shelter carefully. He and the horses were protected from the rain. Even the fire was untouched by the storm. Taking care to choose the farthest corner of the shelter, she sat down with her back against the rock and drew the blanket firmly around her. Her hand, hidden beneath the blanket, gripped the club. She had no intention of relaxing her guard.

  Though she was weary beyond belief, she would keep watch until morning.

  The rain came down harder, pelting the dry earth and creating little rivers.

  Dry gulleys soon filled until they were engorged and spilled over their banks. And still the rain fell.

  Welcome to Texas, Caroline thought miserably. Shivering, she hunched deeper into the blanket and struggled to keep her eyes open. The patter of the rain on the rock had a hypnotic effect. Soon she was lulled into sleep.

  Thad knew the exact moment when the woman gave in and sought shelter.

  With his eyes closed he listened as she crouched in the far corner. He heard the whisper of cloth as she drew the blanket around her and tried to find a comfortable position on the hard ground. He listened to the unsteady sound of her breathing and heard the slight change in rhythm as she drifted into sleep, His arm throbbed. He knew from past experience that the wound was beginning to fester. He'd hoped to ignore the bullet in his flesh until he got to town, but now he decided that, with the pain deepening, he'd better deal with it.

  Taking a knife from his belt, he thrust it into the hot coals. From his saddlebag he withdrew a bottle of whiskey and took a healthy swallow to steel himself for what was to come. Clenching his teeth, he pulled the knife from the fire and cut away his sleeve and the bit of cloth that Caroline had tied around his arm. Then, without giving himself time to change his mind, he sliced into his flesh and began to probe for the bullet. Pain ripped through him and he caught his breath. It took every ounce of willpower to focus his attention on the task at hand. Through the river of blood that soaked his shirt, through the tissue and muscle that resisted the point of his knife, he probed until at last he felt the scrape of metal. Sweat trickled down his brow, nearly blinding him as he gently withdrew the bullet. His fingers trembled as he poured the whiskey on the open wound. Swearing, he leaned back against the rock and struggled to absorb the pain.

  Taking a swallow of whiskey, he gritted his teeth and poured another liberal amount on the raw flesh.

  A sound disturbed Caroline's sleep. As she struggled awake, she heard it again. A catch of breath. A hiss of pain. Someone in distress. As her eyes slowly adjusted, she couldn't believe what she was seeing.


  Blood streamed down the stranger's arm, smearing the front of his shirt. In his hand was a bloodied knife. When she realized what he'd done, she tossed off the blanket and crossed the distance between them.

  "I thought you were going to wait until you reached a doctor in town."

  He looked up at her through eyes glazed with pain.

  "Infection started. The bullet had to come out."

  "Did you get it?"

  He nodded and reached for the bloody cloth that had been cut away. When she saw what he intended, she snatched it from him and tossed it aside.

  "You need a clean binding." Lifting her skirts, she tore another strip from her petticoat.

  As she caught his hand he lifted the bottle and poured more whiskey on the wound. The sudden sharp pain caused him to suck in his breath and let it out on a long, slow curse. His strong fingers curled around hers, nearly crushing them. Before she could cry out he realized what he'd done and released his death grip on her.

  As Caroline began to wrap his arm with the strip of cloth, he took a long pull on the bottle, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

  She looked down at him and felt a wave of compassion.

  Sweat beaded his brow and upper lip. Pain was evident in the taut lines of his face.

  What sort of man was this that he could calmly, purposefully inflict that sort of pain upon himself when necessary? She gave an involuntary shiver.

  Worse, what sort of land was this that it bred such harsh creatures?

  She had come to Texas seeking escape. Now she wondered if she'd bargained with the devil.

  "Tell me if this binding is too tight."

  He nodded. Even Thad's pain couldn't dull the impact when her fingers brushed his flesh. He absorbed the first jolt and lay very still, awash in strange, troubling feelings. At least, for the moment, her touch was able to take his mind off the pain. For that he was grateful. "Why didn't you ask for my help?" Though her question was sharp, her touch was surprisingly gentle.

  "Out here, if you ask for help, it's a sign of weakness." He watched her from beneath lowered lids. Her head was bent, her hair spilling forward to brush his cheek as she worked. He inhaled the woman scent of her and felt a sudden flicker of excitement. His drawl held the warmth of laughter.