To Kiss a Texan

FOUR

‘‘ISAY WE ALL GRAB HER AT ONCE AND THROW HERin the tub. She’s dirtier than any human I’ve ever come across and most animals.’’

Allie slowly opened her eyes at the sound of a highpitched woman’s voice behind her. The room before her had emptied of most people, so she felt brave enough to look around. The huge space seemed packed with items of all sizes and colors. All the lamps except the one on a desk had been turned down. Fireplace flickers danced off tall windows black with night, making the room seem alive.

She guessed the room to be the doctor’s office, but this place bore little resemblance to the tiny room the Rangers had taken her to that they’d called a doctor’s office.

‘‘You’ll do no such thing, Rose,’’ another answered from behind Allie’s chair, reminding Allie she wasn’t alone. ‘‘She may very well have saved Wes’s life. If she wants to dress in mud, it doesn’t matter to me. We’ll offer her a bath after you see if she wants anything to eat.’’

Allie gripped the cape tighter about her and peered through the small opening. She wished the room were not all in shadows, for she wasn’t sure which were spaces between bookshelves and which were doors.

She couldn’t see the opening where they’d entered hours ago. The man called Adam sat several feet away at his desk. He looked far too interested in the book in his hands to even hear the women’s voices behind Allie.

The wounded stranger, who’d helped her from the cage, lay on a high bed under one set of windows. She could see white wrappings across his ribs and the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive.

‘‘Miss?’’ The high-pitched voice grew closer. ‘‘I’ve cooked you up something in case you’re hungry before your bath.’’

A woman, not much taller than Allie, appeared before the fireplace. She looked a few years older than the one called Nichole. Her cheeks had odd red full moons painted on them and her breasts seemed to form from the top of her shoulders to her waist.

‘‘Rose!’’ the woman called Nichole said softly from somewhere behind Allie. ‘‘Don’t bother our guest. Allow her to eat in peace.’’

Letting the slit in the cape widen slightly, Allie watched a tiny woman move across her line of vision. The painted lady carried a tray loaded down with a week’s supply of food. All kinds of food. Not just meat, or bread, or roots.

‘‘Here you go, sweetie.’’ The woman smiled with dark red lips as she set the tray on a footstool and stepped back. She folded her arms over her ample breasts and waited for Allie to make the next move.

For a moment, all Allie could see was the piece of meat, bread layered in butter, a baked apple still steamy from the oven. From somewhere far in her past came the memory of such foods. Then she saw it-the knife placed beside the plate.

In one lightning lunge, she raised from her coverings, grabbed the weapon, and folded back into the cave of covers.

The woman called Rose jumped back as though someone had punched her. ‘‘Did you see that?’’ she yelled toward the doctor.

‘‘See what?’’ Adam answered without lifting his stare from the book.

Rose pointed toward Allie with a shaking hand. ‘‘She stole the knife!’’

‘‘Then get her another one,’’ Adam answered without giving the matter a glance.

Rose huffed and stormed out of the room. ‘‘Well, I never in all my born days seen…’’ Words trailed after her.

Allie closed her eyes and let the knife turn over in her hand. The food looked good and the room felt wonderfully warm, but nothing compared to the feel of a weapon in her hand. She was no longer defenseless.

‘‘There!’’ Rose appeared in front of Allie once more. ‘‘I brought you another fork, too.’’ She clanked the gift down next to the plate.

When Allie grabbed the second knife Rose screamed again, this time drawing Adam’s full attention.

‘‘She did it again, Doc. She took the knife.’’ Rose waved her finger in a whipping motion. ‘‘Land’s sake to goodness, she’ll kill us all in our sleep.’’

‘‘I doubt anyone in the house is asleep, thanks to your screaming.’’ Adam stood and moved slowly toward Allie. ‘‘Get another knife, Rose,’’ he said calmly. ‘‘In fact, bring all we have.’’

‘‘What!’’ Rose shifted her startled gaze to the doctor.

‘‘You heard me. Bring all the knives from your kitchen.’’

Rose stormed off, her hands at full-blown mast above her head and words following her like smoke does from a train.

Adam knelt in front of Allie. Very slowly, he lifted the bread and offered it to her.

Allie didn’t move. She’d been offered food before only to find it a trap. If she didn’t take the bread, maybe he wouldn’t hurt her or demand something in return.

‘‘You’ve no call to be afraid,’’ Adam said calmly. ‘‘We owe you a great debt for bringing Wes to us.’’ He put the bread on the tray and picked up the glass of milk.She didn’t reach for it.

‘‘I’m sorry if Rose frightened you. She’s a great cook. Won’t you try her meal?’’

Allie knew his words, but somehow all the meaning didn’t come through. She’d been tricked too often to trust now.

Rose returned with her starched apron loaded down with weapons.

Adam reached in her stash and offered Allie a small knife. ‘‘If you want these, you are welcome to them,’’ he said. ‘‘We’ve nothing to fear from such a brave one as you. I don’t know how my brother found his way into your care, but I’m glad you brought him to us. We are all in your debt.’’

Allie could never remember being called brave. She’d always thought of herself as a coward. All her life it seemed she’d been running. First from the raid that killed her family, then from tribes that warred against one another, then from the men who captured her and called it a saving.

‘‘I’ll just put a few of them here.’’ Adam stood, taking the knives, apron and all, from Rose. He placed two on the bookshelf beside the door he opened. ‘‘The rest will be in the room across the hallway. Nichole prepared you a bath, and Rose will take your food in there so you can have some privacy.’’

Rose looked at the doctor as if he’d lost his mind and this wasn’t the first time she’d noticed. She let out a loud sigh and shook her head toward heaven. ‘‘Lord, Lord, protect us all tonight so we don’t get knifed in our sleep.’’ She lifted the tray and followed the doctor without ceasing in her prayer. ‘‘Lord, please send Sister Cel and the others safely back home, and Lord, please don’t let them be the ones that finds us all dead in our own blood from the knife wounds, and Lord, I’m truly sorry for my life of sin. It was an evil life, and I don’t have time to list everything one by one, but I don’t deserve to be stabbed like a hog neither and Lord-’’

‘‘That will be enough, Rose,’’ the doctor interrupted. ‘‘You’ll frighten our guest.’’

She opened one eye to glare at him as she continued silently mouthing her prayer while following Adam out of the room.

Allie waited.

Silence.

She could still smell the baked apple. Slowly, she shifted the weapons in her hands. Could it be possible no one was going to fight her for them?

Letting the blanket slip away, she looked around the room.

No one. Only the stranger, who Adam had called Wes. He lay on the bed asleep.

With a tight grip on the largest knife, Allie stood. She turned a full circle twice.

No one.

Without a sound, she moved toward the door where Adam and Rose had disappeared. They could be just beyond the opening, waiting to jump at her. Waiting to take her weapon away. Waiting to hurt her.

But as she inched past the door, she saw no one. Only the light from across the hall. The knives Adam had carried from the room were spread out on the bed like an offering. The tray of food sat on a table.

Hunger drove Allie closer. Every inch of her was alive, ready to bolt at any sound or hint of danger. She moved into the hallway.

Nothing.

She entered the small room and, once again, turned a circle with her knife drawn. The room was too small to hide a person. There was only space enough for a bed, a small table, a chair, and a huge tub of water.

As she finished the rotation, Allie caught sight of Nichole in the doorway. Allie’s knuckles turned white with her tight grip on the weapon, but she didn’t advance. She waited. She had no desire to harm the lady, but Allie had made up her mind she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again.

Nichole stepped to the bed and laid down a pile of clothing. ‘‘I thought you could use these for tonight,’’ she said as she backed from the room. ‘‘I’ll leave you to your privacy, but if you need anything, you’ve only to ask.’’

She closed the door.

Allie bolted, dropping one of the knives in her hurry to grab the door.

But the knob turned easily in her hand. It wasn’t locked. She jerked it open to make sure.

Nichole stood a few feet away. She smiled as if she’d read Allie’s mind. ‘‘The key’s on the inside of the door. You can lock it if you wish. But no one will bother you. You’re safe here.’’

Allie closed the door quickly and looked down. The key. She knew about locks. She’d been locked in many rooms over the past weeks. Again and again, she’d seen the preacher take the key, then the lock would turn and she’d be imprisoned once more.

Hesitantly, she placed the knife on the table and let her fingers close around the key. When she pulled, it came away in her hand.

She put the key back in the lock and twisted it as she’d seen the preacher do. Next, she tried the door. Locked. Then she twisted the key again and opened the door.

The hall was quiet.

Allie slowly closed the door and turned the key once more. She wasn’t being locked in. This time she locked the world out.

Without taking her eyes away from the door for more than a moment, she sat on the floor and lowered the tray of food to her lap. For the first few bites, she scooped the food with her fingers. When the hunger grew more under control, she picked up the fork. Deliberately she stabbed for each bite. The fork felt strange in her hand, but not totally foreign. Halfway through the meal, she slowed enough to taste.Good, she thought.Very good.The tiny loud woman might wear war paint, but Adam had been right: Rose was a cook.

When the food was gone, she drank the milk. Wiping her mouth on the back of her arm, she pushed the tray aside and returned to the door, testing the lock once more.

Satisfied she was safe, Allie removed the cape Nichole had given her. She laid it next to the garments. Her hand reached for the white clothing then paused.

Allie pulled her fingers back, not allowing herself to touch the gift of clothing. It was spotless. She couldn’t bare to dirty it with her touch.

Moving away from the bed, she noticed the tub once more. Timidly, she lowered her fingers into the warm water, washing away the crumbs of her meal and weeks of grime.

An inch at a time, she lowered her arms. It felt so good. Suddenly the filth covering her was suffocating. She’d had to use all her energy to stay alive. There had been so much more to think about besides getting enough water to bathe. But now she could wait no longer.

She pulled off her dress and slipped into the tub, lowering until water covered her. She stayed beneath the surface for as long as she could. When she finally came up for air, mud dripped off her hair.

With a war cry, Allie grabbed the soap beside the tub and began to scrub. An hour later, she stood and stepped from the now cold water. She’d used all the soap and only hoped the people of this place had more. Full and clean, she wasn’t nearly as frightened as she had been.

Proudly, she crossed to the clothing on the bed and touched it. Her fingers left no stain. She pulled the cotton over her shoulders and fought with the buttons at her throat. Then, she lifted a brush from the table and began pulling it through her hair. By the time she’d finished the brush was full of hair and her scalp hurt, but her long hair hung in a ripple of waves down her back.

She examined her clothing. Night clothing, she guessed. Allie wished she had something more to leave in, but this had been a gift. If she took anything else it would be wrong. Besides, she had clothes hidden in the cave deep in the hill country and this night clothing would be far better than the thin dress she’d been living in for weeks. The cape would keep her warm enough. With Wes’s horse, she could be back at her cave in three, maybe four days. The cotton would last until then.

Carefully, she lifted the dirty dress and moved to the stove in the corner of the room. The iron fireplace was small, probably putting out only enough warmth for the room on cold nights. She stuffed her ragged clothing into the opening. The dress would be fuel. She would not save it, or any memory of wearing it. The days of being trapped in the cage must be pushed away.

It was time to go.

Looking over the knives, she selected two and placed them in a bag she made from Rose’s apron. They were all a gift from Adam, but she’d take only what she needed. She had done what she’d planned to do; there was no need to stay. She’d brought Wes to his people. And they’d paid her back most kindly. But if she didn’t leave soon, the preacher would find her, or the Rangers. They’d put her back in a cage.

Allie turned the key and unlocked the door. Then she pulled the key from the lock and placed it in her bag. The key had been the greatest gift.

She silently moved through the house. It would be dawn in a few hours. Everyone slept. She thought through a plan as she crept along the hallway.

Maybe it was being around these people, hearing their way of talking, or maybe it was the food or even the bath, but the memories of a time long ago flickered in her mind as she picked her way carefully.

She remembered a boy, only slightly taller than her, pulling her through the fields as he’d screamed the words that ran through her mind now. ‘‘You’ve got to have a plan, Allie, if you’re going to stay alive.’’

Well, she had a plan now.

As she slipped into the room where she’d sat by the fireplace, memories flooded back from a time long buried. She and the boy had run until she’d tasted blood as she breathed. Shots shattered the morning air and black billowing smoke rose from the barn and screams seemed to come from all directions. The boy had been trying to make it to the trees, which grew too thick together for horses to follow them.

Allie forced herself into the present as she moved silently past the doctor, who slept soundly in a chair by the fire. She tiptoed to Wes’s side and looked down at him. He slept on his side, facing away from the fire so that only the part of his face without the scar showed.

In sleep, he didn’t look nearly as frightening. With his face relaxed, he looked younger. His jawline was strong and true. She’d done right, she thought. He had been helping her when he’d opened the cage. Now, by bringing him here, she’d helped him.

Carefully, she swept the dark brown hair from his forehead. It was really too bad he was dying, for he must be a good man. She wondered why the woman back in Denton had turned her face away and had her men beat him. If Allie ever had such a man, she would not turn away. He had the strong features of a warrior.

She moved her fingers through his hair, knowing she’d never have a man look at her the way this one had looked at the lady in Denton. His eyes told everyone that all his hopes and dreams were riding on her. He looked at the woman as though he valued nothing higher.

Allie blinked away a tear. No one would ever look at her like that. She knew what she was. She’d heard it said in more than one language. She was a ‘‘throwaway woman.’’ Of no value. Of no worth.

She fought down the tears. Not worth feeding when the winters are hard, she thought. Not worth saving when her mother ran with a baby in her arms and left Allie. Not worth loving and protecting by anyone. She’d fought with the dogs enough times for scraps to know what she was.

The days and nights of no sleep suddenly caught up with her. She leaned close against the stranger and rested her head on his pillow.

His warm breath brushed her wet cheek.

The memories of the boy who’d run with her returned. He’d fallen before they reached the trees. Allie remembered being afraid to go on without him. He’d told her to have a plan, but she’d been too small and frightened to think of one. She’d curled beside him and smelled the blood dripping from his body. He hadn’t moved, not even when a Comanche yanked her up by one arm and draped her over his horse. The boy hadn’t helped her or even cried out when the brave rode away with her as a prize.

Allie rubbed her eyes on her sleeve and lifted the blanket covering Wes. She was too tired to plan now. All she wanted to do was sleep. No one would ever know if she lay beside this man called Wes. For a few hours, she could pretend she had someone looking out for her. Someone valuing her. Someone caring for her as she slept.

She slipped in beside him. The heat of his body took away the chill of the night. She lay an inch away, not touching, but close enough to feel his breath on her cheek once more.

Allie closed her eyes. No one would see her here between this man and the windows. She’d sleep next to his warmth until first light, then disappear.

Tomorrow she’d follow her plan.