Two Texas Hearts

SIXTEEN

WINTER RODE THROUGH THE NIGHT PUSHING HIS horse faster as he approached the settlement. He was slowed by staying with the road, but he didn’t want to take any chance of passing Dr. Gage in the dark. The wind had turned cold and whirled around him, making him think he heard things when nothing was there. Clouds blocked the moon and most of the stars. By the time he saw the lights of the Breaks Settlement, he could taste icy rain in the air. But the moisture did little to cool his anger. This was no place for a lady after dark.

The number of shacks had doubled since he’d last ridden by the area, and several outdoor campfires dotted the uneven land. Breaks Settlement was a deformed town with no businesses or patterns of streets. There were no schools, or churches, or even barns. Most of the horses were corralled in a small boxed canyon near the end of the settlement. Lodgings were as simple as wagons turned on their side against the wind or crude houses made of anything handy, waterproofed with thick layers of sod for warmth.

Win lowered his hat and silently urged his horse to pick his way through the scattering of trash along trails marked by ruts. He fought the urge to raise his bandanna from his throat, for the smell was worse than riding drag on a cattle drive.

Anger toward Gage for bringing Kora to this place began to bubble over in his mind. He liked the young doctor, but the man should have considered Kora’s safety if not his own.

He rode among the dwellings looking for any sign of the doc’s buggy. But the lights in the shacks were small, and the tiny beams escaping from between cracks offered little help as the night grew darker.

The hollow sound of a mouth harp drifted through the air. Win turned toward what looked to be the largest dwelling. Voices grew from the sounds of the night to human pitch as he came upon a long lean-to rigged with a tarp from a couple of Conestogas.

‘‘Evenin’.’’ The harp music stopped, and a man stood at the edge of the covered area. He was rail thin, and the rags he wore made it seem as if his clothes were fringed in the darkness.

Three tables were set up beneath the covering, and Win could make out a dozen men, maybe more, playing cards. Large jugs of home brew dotted the dirt. Win guessed he’d have to down half a jug of the home brew before he could stomach the smell of unwashed humans and open outhouses.

‘‘Somethin’ I can do for you?’’ The harp player was no more friendly than his music had been cheery.

Win didn’t raise his hat as he would have done to talk to someone in town. He wasn’t sure it would be wise to let anyone see his face. He recognized two of the men at the closest table as cowhands he’d had to fire a few months back for drinking.

‘‘I come looking for the doc.’’ He kept his voice low, hoping only the harp player would hear it.

‘‘Haven’t seen him.’’ The man snorted a laugh. ‘‘He ain’t a regular around the tables.’’

Winter clicked at his horse and began to back away. He saw no need to thank the man.

The harp player lifted the wire to his mouth, but just before he played, he added, ‘‘If anyone here’s in need of a doc, it’s probably Miller down by the creek. I heard he got shot a while back.’’

‘‘Thanks.’’ Win turned his horse toward the creek.

After passing several empty campsites, he spotted the doctor’s buggy pulled up to a sod house. The light barely escaped through the oilcloth hanging over the two tiny windows in front, but Win could see that a lamp burned inside.

Just as he leaned forward to swing his leg to the ground, the door of the place opened. Win had his Colt halfway out of its holster before he saw Kora step from the doorway.

Her arms were loaded down with rags, and her hair was as bright as sunshine with the firelight behind her. She dropped the rags in a basket by the door and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

‘‘Kora?’’ He said her name so low he wasn’t sure it had passed his lips.

She looked up.

‘‘Kora!’’ Dr. Gage yelled from inside. ‘‘Hurry!’’

With only a moment’s hesitation, she turned back inside, leaving the door open.

Win swung from the saddle and tied his horse to the doc’s buggy. He walked slowly to the doorway, already guessing what he might see.

The cabin was filthy, as he’d expected. It looked more like a rat’s nest than a human’s home. A man lay in front of the fire on a crude cot made of ropes and logs. Dr. Gage knelt over him working frantically on his chest. His hands were spotted in blood to the elbow, and his face was dripping sweat. Kora stood beside him following rapid-fire orders.

Win watched as his little wife, who shied away from him, helped Dr. Gage like a seasoned nurse. He wanted to be mad because she’d left without telling him, because she’d put herself in danger, because she’d worried him half to death. Because she’d left Jamie to cook. But he couldn’t be angry. Not with the pride welling in him.

‘‘I’ve got it!’’ the doc yelled as he pulled a hand from halfway inside the man’s chest. ‘‘The bullet is out.’’

Kora took a breath and for the first time looked up. If Winter’s presence surprised her, she showed no sign of it. She simply smiled that quiet, shy smile of hers and returned to her chores.

Gage glanced at her, then Winter. ‘‘Hello, Win,’’ he said without any note of apology. ‘‘We’re about finished here.’’

‘‘Take your time,’’ Win mumbled. He leaned against the doorframe and tried to wait patiently as they worked at sewing up the man. Not wanting to watch, Win glanced around the room. His gaze settled on a black duster hanging on a peg. For a few minutes he couldn’t think of why it looked so familiar. Then he remembered. The three men in black who’d shot at him and Cheyenne the day Jamie rode with them.

Slowly, almost casually, he walked over to the peg and turned the duster around in the light. Sure enough, there was a bullet hole about gut level, maybe a little higher. This man had been one of the three, but from the looks of him now, he couldn’t have sat a horse, much less have ridden in to start the fire.

‘‘How long ago was this man shot?’’ Win asked over his shoulder.

‘‘Several days,’’ the doc volunteered as he worked. ‘‘At first I thought it was too risky to try and take the bullet out. Then, when he got worse, I figured it would be the only chance to save his life. And it’s a slim chance. Yours was the nearest place I could go to get someone I could trust to stay with me through the operation. And Kora did, just like a trooper.’’

The doc smiled at Kora as he praised, making Win feel a sharp stab of jealousy.

Kora stood and washed her hands as the doc wrapped the wound. ‘‘I’ve no desire to be a nurse, but I’m glad I could help.’’

Win moved closer to her. ‘‘You left Jamie to cook,’’ he whispered.

‘‘I had to.’’ Kora glanced at him as though she couldn’t believe how selfish he sounded.

Win cleared his throat. ‘‘This is one of the men who shot at Cheyenne and Jamie. He tried to kill us all in that ambush.’’

Dr. Gage stood. ‘‘You think it could be?’’

Winter faced Gage. ‘‘The men were wearing black dusters and I put a bullet in one’s gut and one in another’s shoulder.’’

‘‘Are you sure?’’

‘‘That’s my bullet you just dug out, Doc.’’

Gage took a long breath. ‘‘Well, this man’s not going anywhere for several days. If he makes it through the night, we’ll tell the sheriff and let him do the arresting.’’

Winter frowned. ‘‘When the ambush happened, I figured the men were from down south maybe sent to scare us. But if this fellow’s here, the other two may be, also. I don’t think you should stay in the settlement tonight, Doc.’’

‘‘I’ll be all right.’’ Gage waved them out. ‘‘You may have put the bullet in this man, but I might have killed him trying to dig it out. We’ll know one way or the other come morning. In the meantime, outlaw or not, I’ve got to do all I can to keep him alive.’’ Gage straightened his tired shoulders. ‘‘Besides, I’ve got Rae here to protect me.’’

Both men laughed. Rae was an old woman who’d lived in the Breaks for years, and she was meaner than any outlaw or drunk in the place.

Kora picked up her shawl, too tired even to ask what the men were laughing about. ‘‘Good night, Doc,’’ she said as she walked toward the door. ‘‘I’ll go back with Win now.’’

Gage waved them away as he made himself comfortable by the fire. ‘‘Thanks again,’’ he called. ‘‘Don’t worry about me. Rae will be around soon. She’ll help if I need someone.’’

Win followed Kora out and untied his horse. He could feel her close beside him in the darkness. ‘‘I didn’t think about bringing you back alone or I’d have brought a wagon.’’ He hesitated, knowing her fear of horses. But from what he knew, the doc wasn’t much of a rider, so it wouldn’t be fair to leave him the horse and take the buggy. ‘‘You mind riding double?’’

‘‘No,’’ she answered. ‘‘This could be my first riding lesson.’’

He swung up into the saddle and offered her his arm.

There was a moment’s hesitation before she slid her fingers over his sleeve and he closed his hand around her forearm, pulling her up in front of him. ‘‘Comfortable?’’ he asked, thinking of how light she felt.

She leaned against his chest without answering, but the rapid pounding of her heart told him she was far more frightened of being atop a horse than comfortable. But he couldn’t hide his smile. He’d wanted her this close for days.

‘‘Don’t worry,’’ he whispered. ‘‘I’ve got you and I promise I won’t let go.’’

Win guided the horse back over the uneven path of the settlement. He watched the shadows for any movement and kept his right hand free to reach for his gun. The only advantage to the moonless night was that anyone would have as much trouble seeing him as he did them.

To ease her fears he talked softly in her ear, telling her how to hold the reins and when to trust the horse to pick the path.

When they were away from the campfires and shanties, Kora relaxed slightly as if she, too, had been watching, waiting. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she whispered as she leaned against him. ‘‘I’m glad you came to get me.’’

If Winter had any plan of yelling at her for disappearing, it vanished. The nearness of her washed over him as it had before, smoothing rough edges that had been a part of him since he could remember. ‘‘I was worried about you,’’ he said, rougher than he’d intended.

She didn’t seem to notice his tone as her arm slid around his waist. ‘‘When I was about eight, I carried sewing to my mother’s customers.’’ She kept her voice low, but her grip was strong. ‘‘One winter evening I lost my way and thought I’d never get home. I remember praying my mother would come to find me, but she never did. When I finally made it home, she hadn’t even noticed I’d been gone.’’

He moved so that she could rest her back against his arm and lowered his head, slightly breathing in her closeness with each breath. ‘‘Don’t disappear just so I’ll worry, but I’ll always come find you.’’

Kora laughed. ‘‘Did you worry more about me or having to eat Jamie’s cooking?’’

‘‘I left Cheyenne to face the cooking.’’

‘‘If I know Jamie, there won’t be much besides apples to eat tonight.’’

Winter joined her in laughter. ‘‘That could be a blessing.’’

They rode for a long while, huddling against each other for warmth. In time, their breathing matched as did the rhythm of their hearts. A beat at a time, she was losing her fear both of him and of riding.

When they passed onto even land, Winter circled the reins around the saddle horn and allowed the horse to pace himself. He gently took Kora by the shoulders and turned her slightly.

He felt her stiffen.

‘‘Easy, now, wife,’’ he whispered with his cheek against hers. ‘‘I only plan to kiss you if you’ve no objections.’’

‘‘You’re talking to me in the same tone as you do the horse,’’ she whispered.

‘‘I guess I haven’t had much practice talking to women,’’ Winter answered as he touched his first knuckle beneath her chin and lifted her head slightly. ‘‘I’ll learn, though, Kora. Give me a little time. I’ll learn.’’

‘‘Is a kiss part of the peace between us?’’

Win didn’t want to talk. He only wanted to kiss the woman. He’d never asked for a kiss in his life, and he wasn’t about to start begging now. ‘‘No,’’ he mumbled. ‘‘It’s part of nothing. And it’s certainly not something you have to do to play the part of my wife.’’

He pulled his hat lower as if ending the discussion.

She didn’t say a word, but moved her arms around his neck. Slowly she leaned into him and raised her face to his.

‘‘I think I’d like to kiss you,’’ she whispered against his cheek. ‘‘For no other reason than I want to.’’ Her mouth moved feather light across his cheek and touched his lips.

At first the kiss was awkward, but after a few moments he pulled her closer and groaned as she melted so softly against him.

He’d kissed a few women in his years, but none tasted like Kora. Her lips were soft and yielding, with just enough hesitancy to fascinate him. He hadn’t kissed her since that night in the barn, and now he was surprised at how much he’d missed the taste of her.

As the kiss continued, she moved her fingers over his shoulders and touched the hair at the base of his neck. She was getting used to him, he thought. Accepting him one action at a time.

Her small hands lightly stroked his jawline as her lips brushed against his. She was no longer just accepting his kiss, she was returning it.

He let her set the pace, returning her kisses, without demanding more. Slowly she grew bolder, and he answered her request.

His fingers around her waist gripped tightly as he kissed her again and again. ‘‘You like riding?’’ he whispered against her lips.

‘‘I like riding with you,’’ she answered.

She straightened, trusting his grip to hold her, as she opened her mouth. The action was bold, but his smile told her of his pleasure. His arms tightened as the kiss deepened. No words could pass between them. No words were needed.

When the horse stopped, Win glanced up in surprise. ‘‘We’re home,’’ he whispered as his face moved against her hair, loving the clean smell of it.

‘‘Really?’’ She sounded as if she didn’t believe him. ‘‘The trip seemed shorter on horseback.’’

Win laughed as he swung down, then reached for her. His hand slid lightly up her leg to her waist in an action far bolder than he’d ever done. When she didn’t pull away, he lowered her slowly, close to his body. ‘‘Maybe it was because we didn’t talk much.’’

She turned away. He might have thought he’d stepped too far, embarrassing her with his teasing. But her hand lingered on his sleeve, moving along his arm as his hand had covered her leg. The slight touch was a promise.

Cheyenne appeared in the kitchen door before Winter could say anything.

‘‘Win!’’ Cheyenne yelled as he hobbled onto the back porch. ‘‘They found a man shot at dusk on the south rim. Another lookout spotted a rider wearing black moving away from that direction.’’

Win pressed Kora to the corners of his mind. ‘‘I’ll ride back for the doc!’’ He turned to ready his horse.

‘‘No need.’’ Cheyenne stepped off the porch. ‘‘The man’s dead.’’

Winter’s rage matched the fury of the storm blowing in from the north. He gave Kora a quick nod of goodbye and began issuing orders at his men. By midnight they’d brought in the man’s body and prepared it for burial at dawn and doubled the guard in every section. The trouble had finally reached them.

Winter knew killers waited somewhere in the night. He’d reacted when they’d ambushed Cheyenne and him, but now he was planning to act. He couldn’t stand by while they picked off his ranch hands one at a time. By dawn he planned to be hunting the men down. He’d start by paying the fellow at Breaks Settlement a visit. If the man was still alive, he might tell who rode with him and who hired them. Then he’d find the other two riders in black and see that they were soon behind bars.