To Wed In Texas

TWELVE

IF KARLEE HAD EXPECTED A HUSBAND TO BE MORE talkative than an employer, she was greatly disappointed. Daniel didn't say a word when she brought breakfast on the first morning of their marriage. She made no attempt to feed him, but when she returned an hour later with the twins, the food had disappeared.

She sat beside the bed, her sewing spread across her lap while the girls played on the floor between Daniel and the windows. As she'd expected, one twin, the one she'd sprinkled with cinnamon at breakfast, leaned close and kissed Daniel.

“Ah, cinnamon,” Daniel whispered.

“Yes, Papa,” she answered. “That's me.”

The chubby hand of the other daughter patted his arm. “Karlee says I'm Starlett, Papa. 'Cause I ask too many questions to count, like the stars. When you going to take that thing off your eyes?”

“Starlett,” Daniel nodded. “It fits you. I couldn't have chosen better names myself.”

He cleared his throat. “Girls, I married Karlee last night.”

“We married Karlee?” they both squealed.

“Does that mean she's going to stay?”

“Will she get big and fat and have a baby inside her like Willow?”

“Yes, she'll stay, and no, she won't have a baby.” Daniel said the words as if they were final, telling Karlee just what kind of marriage they would have. He wanted no more children.

She tried to keep her hands moving across the material though she knew he couldn't see her. What had she expected? That he suddenly loved her just because he married her? That he'd take her in his arms and to his bed?

Only a fool would think such a thing. She told him she didn't want a husband when she'd arrived, and he made it plain he didn't want a wife. What they'd done last night had been for the twins' sake. The forever part had just been said because he was a man of honor. They both knew, no matter the reason, there would be no turning back. A divorced preacher would never lead a church, and a divorced woman would be looked down on in any community.

Like it or not, they were tied together until death. Without love.

About mid-morning, Valerie arrived and offered to take the twins to the porch for a picnic. As soon as the girls were gone, Karlee collected all she needed to redo the bandages on Daniel's hands. She thought of asking if she could care for his leg as well, for the wrappings needed cleaning, but she decide to wait at least until they'd been married a full day. Changing bandages on his hands was one thing, on his leg would be quite another.

He didn't say a word as she soaked the stained bandage and slowly pulled the cotton away from dried blood along his knuckles.

“I'm sorry.” Newly hardened scabs came away with the cloth. “I'm trying not to hurt you.”

“It doesn't matter,” he answered blandly.

He didn't move as she washed his wounds and spread salve over his fingers. The strength of his hands fascinated her. She gently rubbed the soothing medicine in far longer than was necessary.

After she'd wrapped the wounds with clean cloth, she hurried to the kitchen and returned with a pan of hot water and a razor she'd found in a drawer.

“I thought I'd shave you, Daniel.” She called him by name for the first time. “In case we have company. I'll be careful of the cuts.”

A brow lifted above his bandaged eyes, but he didn't comment.

Karlee had seen men shave a few times. She'd even watched the barber shave a man while she was waiting for him to pull one of her teeth. He did a fine job of shaving the customer, but she felt sure he pulled the wrong tooth in her mouth. And to add to the injustice, he'd charged her two bits for the crime.

From that day on, she brushed her teeth religiously with baking soda and elm twigs gnawed on one end. She never planned to have another barber put his hand in her mouth, again, and any teeth she lost would have to fall out on their own.

Karlee lathered up Daniel's strong jawline with the flare she remembered the barber used.

The first swipe of the blade was perfect. The second disastrous. Blood dotted his chin as if he had a bad case of the measles.

Daniel jerked away. “Did you ever shave a man before?” he snapped.

“No,” she admitted. “I never had a man to shave, before you.”

“Well, I won't be around long if you keep spilling my blood so freely.”

His voice was hard, but she thought she saw a hint of a smile beneath the lather.

“I'll try again.”

Two strokes later, he jerked and grumbled again. “My jaw curves, the blade doesn't. Please leave some hide, Madam.”

“Your skin is sensitive from the fire's heat.” She leaned close to work on his throat. For a man of few words he spared none in criticism. “I'm not cutting you that deeply. I've no wish to make myself a widow after one day of marriage, but you are starting to look like you're related to Wolf.”

He didn't answer. She couldn't be certain he was breathing. Surely she wasn't frightening him with her shaving.

“What is it?” she asked.

His Adam's apple moved up and down slowly, but he didn't move.

“Don't worry, I won't slit your throat. I think I may be getting the knack of this shaving.”

He didn't move.

“You've nothing to fear,” she reassured.

“Spinster… I mean, Mrs. McLain.” His words were almost thick enough to be liquid. “Would you mind not pressing against my chest?”

For a second, she wanted to laugh. She wasn't hurting this big man by pressing on his chest. She'd seen the wall beneath his shirt, touched it. He was solid as stone with muscles.

Then, she noticed what was pressing on his chest. Her breasts. She'd leaned too close.

“Oh.” She was thankful he couldn't see her embarrassment, for her cheeks were on fire. “I'm sorry. I didn't notice.”

“I may be blind,” he explained. “But I can still feel what is pressed against me.” He seemed almost as embarrassed as she.

Her hands shook so badly she couldn't hold the blade level. How could she have done such a thing? She wasn't used to being around men and certainly not this close to one. Her breasts had always been too large, getting in her way since she was twelve. Usually, she wrapped them tighter within a bodice, but this morning she'd worn her loosest dress.

His hand covered hers, steadying her strokes even though he couldn't see where she aimed. He was in as much of a hurry to get the shaving done as she now was.

It seemed hours before she finished and wiped the last of the lather from his chin.

“I'll be more careful next time. Both with the shaving and the other,” she said with determination. “You do look a sight more presentable.”

“I'll wait until I get this bandage off, and shave myself next time,” he answered coldly. “Or I'll grow a beard.”

Wolf bellowed through the door before she could apologize again. When he rounded the corner and took one look at Daniel he yelled, “Did the savage get loose and try to kill you, Danny me boy?”

“No.” Daniel didn't seem to appreciate the humor. “Karlee shaved me.”

Wolf shook his head. “Your face is the best reason I've seen yet for staying single and keeping a full beard. If she'd cut any closer, you'd be missing a nose.”

Karlee picked up the pan and razor. “It's not that bad,” she defended.

“That bad! I've seen scalped men left with more skin.” Wolf watched her hand holding the pan carefully.

She thought of tossing the pan of soapy water at him but decided against it. After all, she'd be the one to have to clean up the mess. “Want any lunch? I was about to bring Daniel some.”

“Sure.” Wolf sat down by the bed. “One thing I will say, Danny boy. Your wife is a better cook than she is a barber.”

Daniel pressed the towel to a trail of blood running down his chin. “That's not saying much. But I'll give her one thing, she tries. She's not a woman who lets not knowing stop her from trying.”

Karlee closed the kitchen door and tried to figure out if Daniel's last statement had been a compliment or a complaint.

Thirty minutes later, when she returned with a tray of food that could be eaten easily with one's hands, Daniel's bleeding had stopped. She thought of reminding Wolf that several of the cuts on her husband's face had been made by flying glass and not her razor but decided the subject was best left forgotten.

She had no doubt whenever Daniel thought of her shaving him, he'd also think of the way she so boldly leaned against his chest. He probably thought her some scarlet woman pretending to be naive. After all, she'd acted shamelessly so many times in the past few days, he must think her the dumbest woman he'd ever met. Or worse, a flirt.

No. Hugging him that first night could be considered flirting. Maybe even the kiss she asked for. But what she'd done while she shaved him could only mark her as a brazen harlot. Karlee wasn't sure exactly what that encompassed, but she felt certain she fit the criteria. The first morning after he'd married her, Daniel must be sure she was a fallen woman with countless sins to account for.

She set the tray down and planned to exit as soon as possible when their conversation drew her.

Wolf was explaining how he'd wired Adam and Wes, Daniel's brothers, for a second time and again had no reply. They were either on their way, or there was too much trouble for them to come. Adam was a doctor in Fort Worth with a wife and new baby to worry about. Wes lived in the middle of nowhere on a ranch that took the better part of a day to ride across. They might not be the easiest men to get a hold of, but Wolf knew they'd come as fast as they could once they got word.

Gerilyn Whitworth Landau was another story. She and her husband had a winter place in New Orleans. They might already be in town looking for Daniel. It wouldn't be long until she found him. And once she did, Wolf was convinced, trouble would rain aplenty.

“I thought I'd bed down in the barn tonight. The boy is getting tired of my hospitality. I don't think he knows why I'm keeping him captive. Probably thinks I plan to fatten him up for a winter kill.” Wolf shook his head as he bit off a chunk of apple. “It's just a matter of time before he figures out some way to get free. When he does, there's going to be the devil to pay, I'm afraid.”

“It wouldn't do to have Allie on her way and me have to kill her brother before she gets here,” he added as he finished off the apple.

“He knows why you have him tied.” Valerie's voice came from the kitchen doorway. The young girl stood with her arms folded as she leaned against the frame.

“You think so, little lady?” Wolf laughed. He obviously irritated Valerie by treating her like a child and not the woman she thought she already was.

“I know so,” she replied calmly. The girl knew Wolf well enough to have no fear of the man. “I told your Apache why he was here when I took him water yesterday.”

Wolf knocked his chair over as he stood. “He speaks English?”

“No.” She smiled. “I speak Apache. Or at least enough to communicate. My grandfather made sure I could, just as my father insisted I know a little French.”

“And what does our friend have to say?” Wolf looked doubtful.

“He says he has no white sister.” She glanced to see if the twins were listening, then lowered her voice. “And he says he will kill you all and sprinkle the ground with your blood before the next full moon.”

“Did he tell you his name?” Wolf was starting to believe her story.

“Niccohoma,” she replied. “It means ‘without fear.’”

“I don't want you going near him again,” Wolf ordered as he realized just how dangerous the boy, still a year short of being a man, could be to all of them. “He might just kill you, little lady.”

“He said he wouldn't harm me. The blood of his people flows in me.” Valerie held her head high.

“But the blood of the Apache doesn't flow in that kid. He was captured during a raid on a settlement northwest of here. I talked to an Apache who remembered the day they dug him, half dead, out of a plowed field and took him home with them like a war prize.”

“But how can you be so sure he is the brother of Allie all these years later?” Karlee interrupted.

“The Apache described the same scene Wes's wife did of seeing the bodies of her family and others piled in front of the settlement. Then everything was burned. The old Apache that told me about John, not Niccohoma, also said another warrior carried a little girl about the same size over his saddle. Only he went to another village and by the time the two warriors met again to hunt, the little girl had been traded. Like I've heard of them doing, they adopted the boy as a son and traded the girl as a slave.”

“I told him you thought him a captive,” Valerie answered. “He said you lie. He is Apache. He has no memory of any other world. Of any other people. His mother is the wife of a chief and she has no sons but him.”

“He can say anything he wants, Valerie, but that doesn't make it true.” Wolf didn't like to be called a liar, even in another language.

The kitchen door popped suddenly as if the wind caught it and threw it open in a wood-splitting snap.

A cry, not quiet human, shattered the air, frosting the stillness with fear. In one heartbeat, everyone turned toward the sounds from the kitchen and cried one thing.

“The twins!”