Amelia (29 page)

Enid glanced at her warily. "He thought he did."

"It… would have been tragic for him to lose her in such a violent way. "

"Indeed it was. He went off on a hunting trip and stayed away for three weeks after it happened." Enid turned to the younger woman. "But she would not have made him happy, Amelia. She did not love him any more than Darcy does. King has become adept at choosing the wrong woman. Until now," she added quietly.

"But he didn't choose me," Amelia reminded her. "And he doesn't want me, except… well, perhaps in one way. It will not be a good marriage."

"You must make it one, then," the older woman said softly. "He is not a heartless man, and he is very much attracted to you. Do not give up on him now, Amelia."

Fortunately, Enid didn't know the reason they had to get married, and Amelia couldn't bring herself to admit it. She nodded, hoping that it would all come right, as King had said it would.

 

Quinn sat at his desk in the Ranger office, pondering the reward poster on Rodriguez that he was obliged to post. It was a good likeness of the bandit. Too good.

He'd tried to pretend that he didn't know where Rodriguez was, that he didn't have to tell anyone he'd seen him. But the badge was wearing a hole in his shirt. He had taken a solemn vow to uphold the law. Rodriguez had broken it. He had to do his job, no matter what the personal cost to himself. He would lose Maria before he even had her. But that was fate, perhaps.

He buckled on his gun belt. He could do it alone. He had to, because to involve other Rangers might endanger Maria and Juliano, not to mention the children in the camp. He could manage.

"Where are you off to?" his captain asked.

"Mexico. To bring in Rodriguez."

"You found him?" the short, older man asked.

He nodded. "But I didn't know it until this poster came in," he prevaricated. "When I was in Del Rio, I saw this man."

"Wait a minute, and I'll get some of the other men…"

"I can do this on my own, Captain," Quinn said quietly. "There are some children with him. I don't want to put them at risk by taking a large contingent. Will you trust me to do it, my way?"

Quinn had been with the Rangers for almost two years, and Captain Baylor knew him very well. If Quinn gave his word, it was worth gold.

"All right. Be careful."

"I will, sir."

Quinn left with a leaden heart, on his way to Sonora to betray the one woman he could ever love. It was misting rain, and he thought that oddly fitting as he rode out of El Paso.

 

King joined the others for breakfast, still a little bleary-eyed, but sober.

"Where were you last night?" Brant asked him.

"Getting soaked in El Paso," came the dry reply.

"How much did it cost this time?" his father asked.

"I didn't break anything. I got drunk and came home."

"That's a first," Alan said, looking fully at his brother after a two-day sulk. "Did Amelia refuse you?"

King stared his younger brother down. "Not yet, she hasn't," he said after a minute.

Amelia glanced at him, irritable at being taken for granted. "The day is young," she said.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Would you really leave me in the lurch?" he chided softly. "Desert me in my hour of need?"

She blushed, because that should have been her own cry. She fumbled some eggs onto her plate, while Alan frowned with insatiable curiosity at the byplay.

"Have you told Miss Valverde?" she asked coolly.

He fingered his coffee cup. "Not yet. I have that chore to perform this morning."

"I don't envy you," Alan said. "She'll probably be audible in El Paso."

 

And she was, in fact. She screamed and cried; she accused King of leading her on; she accused him of ruining her good name. And all through it, he simply stood, arms folded, smoking his cigar like a man without a care in the world.

"You said you detested her," Darcy choked. "You're only marrying her because you've compromised her, and everyone knows it!" she raged. "In addition to her other failings, she is also a loose woman!"

King's face changed. His eyes became dangerous. "If I ever hear that accusation from you or anyone else again, I will make you sorry."

"Yes?" She lifted her chin haughtily. "And what will you do?"

"Buy up your father's mortgage and dispossess you, if it takes that to bring you to your senses," he said without raising his voice.

Darcy went white in the face. All the raw temper seeped out of her, and she sought excuses for her outburst.

"It was the shock of losing you," she said quickly. "Only the shock. Of course I did not mean…"

King moved down the steps and back to his horse. He didn't say another word.

Later, as he mounted the steps at Latigo, he began to realize just how much harm he'd done to Amelia's reputation. If people were gossiping so much, the incident in the bank must have been greatly embroidered.

He found Amelia in the parlor, stitching up the hem of the dress she planned to be married in.

He knelt in front of her. "Can you go into church with me and overlook the gossiping, the scandal, I've created for you?" he asked bluntly. "Or do you want to be married somewhere else? We could go back East, to Georgia if you like."

She was breathless at the offer. He sounded concerned for her feelings, and that was a first. "Why… I am not afraid of wagging tongues," she stammered.

He searched her face, drinking in her beauty and grace. It occurred to him that he was a very lucky man, in more ways than one.

Amelia saw the affection in his eyes and responded to it with a warm smile. "I don't mind a few odd looks."

"Nor do I. But I would have done anything necessary to spare you."

She put another stitch in. "How did Miss Valverde take it?"

He got up, dropping lightly into an armchair near her. "She took it with outrage. I suppose she was entitled. I had allowed her to believe my intentions were serious. "

"Very… serious?" she fished.

He saw the blush and understood it. "One or two kisses hardly constitute a serious relationship," he said quietly. "It was my wealth that she wanted. Not me."

She finished her stitch and tied it off. "I would like to know about Alice."

His face closed up. It was a subject he hadn't discussed with anyone. He lit a cigar and pulled an ashtray close, all without speaking.

She looked across at him. "I shall have to know," she persisted. "If your heart is in the grave with her, I will not marry you, King."

His hand stilled, dropping the spent match in the ashtray. His eyes, curious, soft, searched her flushed face. "So you want more than my name, Amelia?" he asked quietly.

She clenched her teeth. "I will not share you with the living or the dead. It is the way I am made."

He leaned back, quietly smoking his cigar while his eyes sketched her soft face. "Very well. What do you wish to know?"

"Did you love her?"

"
Quien sabe
?" he asked heavily. "I thought I did. I thought she loved me. But when we were in danger of losing the ranch altogether, she took up with a tinker and started being seen, conspicuously, in his company. It was during one of their drives that that Rodriguez's cutthroats attacked them." His face hardened as the memories came back to haunt him. "I do not like remembering how we found them."

"I'm sorry. It must have been very painful," she said helplessly.

"My father was in the cavalry back in the seventies," he said. "He was ..with the company that found what was left of Custer and his men. What he described is pretty much what I saw after Rodriguez got through with Alice. I understand some Indians run with Rodriguez, so perhaps he turned them loose on the pair."

"Savagery is hardly limited to Indians, or have you not read the daily reports on the Boer War?" she queried.

"Indeed." He stared at the smoke drifting up to the high ceiling. "We buried Alice and her companion and set out after Rodriguez, but he was too slippery to catch. He darted back over the border, and all our searching didn't produce him. Even the Rangers tried, but they couldn't catch him either. I gave up and went off into the mountains to try and get past what had happened. It took a long time."

"Did she love you?"

His pale eyes met hers. "She loved my money," he countered mockingly. "Just as Darcy does. She could hardly bear my touch at all." His eyes narrowed. "You are unique. You have no thirst for wealth, yet you unfold like a bud in bloom when I put my hands on you. It is… disquieting. Humbling."

She moved her legs slightly under her long skirts and rearranged the fabric, avoiding his piercing scrutiny.

"As I have said, you are experienced…"

"Experience is of no account where there is also revulsion," he pointed out. "But you love my kisses, Amelia. Not for all the world could you pretend such abandon."

She cleared her throat and fumbled with her needle. He was ferreting out all her secrets, making her nervous. "Perhaps I am only acting, too."

He smiled gently. "No."

She pricked her finger with the needle in her confusion and cried out, sucking it as blood welled at the tip. Over it she met his eyes.

"Do you ride, Amelia?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I will take you with me in the morning when I go to oversee the last of the branding. Unless branding makes you ill?" he added.

"I have found very little that turns my stomach," she confessed.

He got up, putting out his cigar. "I have some book work to do before I retire. Don't stay up too late, my dear."

The endearment, the first he'd ever used, made her flutter. She looked up at him when he passed. He bent and very slowly kissed her upturned mouth, his lips lingering until her own parted and offered him heaven.

His fingers slid up and down her throat, light as a breath, before he lifted his head and released her from the sensual spell of his touch.

"Sleep well."

She opened her lips to speak, and he bent and kissed them again. She reached up her hand to flatten it against his cheek, a soft moan escaping her throat.

He caught her hand and held it tight, tight, in his, glittery lights in his silver eyes as he watched her.

"I want that, too," he said roughly. "You in my arms, your mouth abandoned to mine, the aching pleasure of feeling you against me completely. But if I hold you, no power on earth will tear you from my arms until morning. And that I will not have. The next time you come to me will be honorable and lawful. God forgive me, Amelia, I never thought to bring you such shame and pain." He brought her palm to his mouth, released it, and went quickly from the room.

Amelia held the hand he'd kissed to her breast and tried to make sense of the confusing things he'd said. He felt something for her besides guilt. But if he hadn't really loved Alice, how would he be able to love Amelia? And what sort of marriage could they have without love on both sides?

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I
t was early morning, with dew still on the grass, when King rode out to the cow camp with Amelia riding beside him. She had, he'd told her, a perfect seat in the saddle, and he watched her with pride as she mounted and easily adjusted to the motion of the animal.

Despite her fears of the night before, Amelia had never felt more alive, more excited. It was as if they were meeting for the first time, as if there was no dark past behind them. King seemed younger, too, and light of heart. She looked at him from under the brim of her hat, feeling the rocking motion of the horse beneath her as she studied the face that was becoming more beloved to her by the day. The ghost of Alice had faded with the dawn, and the invitation to ride out into the pastures with King had made Amelia strangely shy and elated all at once. He had become her world. She was resigned to accepting whatever he had to offer her, even the leftover love from his relationship with his late fiancée. Without him, she had nothing.

He glanced toward her, intercepted that adoring glance, and smiled without mockery.

She flushed. The way he smiled made her tingle all the way to her toes, which amused her, and she laughed secretively.

King laughed, too, lifting his face to the warm morning sun as the sounds of the wild place swirled around them.

"I'm learning things about you that please me very much," he remarked as they rode closer to the cow camp. "I never thought to see you on horseback."

"I love to ride," she remarked. "I love the country. It was torture having to live surrounded by buildings and hurrying people. This is heaven," she added on a sigh, drinking in the peace of the country.

King studied her longer than he meant to and turned his attention back to the trail. She was possessing him, day by day, taking him over. He found himself thinking of her all the time now, wanting to ease her path, protect her. It was new to feel these things with a woman. It was new to have a woman want his embraces with no thought of gain. He felt reborn.

"King," she began.

"What?"

"Did you notice a reserve about Quinn when you mentioned Rodriguez?" she asked suddenly.

He pulled his horse to a stop and sat forward in the saddle facing her. "Yes," he replied. "It puzzled me. His job, as you know, has become his life. I thought at first it might be because of your father or your own situation. But it was not. There is something about the way he looks when Rodriguez is mentioned." He shook his head. "I have no idea what it could be."

"It is not like Quinn to feel sympathy for criminals," she said, fingering her reins. "There must be more to this than we realize."

"I agree." He studied her, smiling. "Sunday is but two days away. Your dress is finished?"

She nodded. "Your mother helped me with the lace."

"She and my father find you a welcome addition to the family."

She started to speak, then hesitated. The reins in her hand felt suddenly cold. She wanted him to find her a welcome addition as well, but that was hardly likely to happen. She would always be a reminder to him of his loss of control, of his vulnerability. How could he want her in his life?