Comanche Heart (15 page)

“Why are you undressed at this time of evening?”

“I, um . . .” She backed up another step. “A bath, I was taking a bath.”

“Amy, if you’re lying, I’ll skin you alive.”

“No. No, I’m not. Give me two minutes. Just two, and I’ll open the door. Please?”

“All right. Two minutes, but not a second more.”

Whirling, Amy ran toward the kitchen. Approaching the window, she rose up on her toes to unfasten its latch and swing it wide. Staring upward, she wondered if the hole was large enough. Not that she had much choice. All the other windows faced the front of the house. Heart in throat, trying her best to be silent, she dragged a kitchen chair over to the opening and climbed up on it.

With her full skirts to hinder her, she nearly lost her balance trying to get one leg high enough to push it over the sill. Getting a grip on the frame, she hauled herself upward. Finally she sat astraddle the sill. She curled into a ball and tucked her head, trying to fit her shoulders through the tiny opening. Wincing, she drew up her other knee. After straining and twisting, she managed to get her bent leg wedged. Now, all she need do was get turned around enough so she could jump.

“Just one more minute, Swift.”

“You’d better count on five,” a voice said from outside in the yard behind her. “I think you’re stuck.”

Amy started and nearly fell through the window backward. A large hand, planted firmly on her left buttock, righted her again. “Swift?” she squeaked, straining her neck to see over her arm, which was looped around her knee.

“Who the hell do you think?”

“Oh, God . . .”

Hands grasped her waist to pull her on through the window. Pain shot from her knee to her hip and across her shoulders. If she hadn’t been wedged into the opening before, she was now. She cried out.

“Goddamn, you
are
stuck,” he said from below her. “Amy, why in hell did you choose this window? It isn’t big enough to spit through.”

“It was the only one you couldn’t see.”

“I didn’t need to see. With all the racket, I knew what you were doing. And now look at the fix you’re in. It’s a wonder you didn’t fall out and break your fool neck.” He tugged on her again. “Well, if this isn’t a hell of a mess, I don’t know what is. Can you stick that leg back inside?”

With her head bent to her chest, she could scarcely breathe. “It’s stuck.”

His hands fell from her waist. “You know, I oughta just leave you there.”

“Go, then. I don’t need or want your help.”

“You’re a fine-looking sight, waving your drawers at the world. What would little Peter Crenton think if he could see you now? I bet a
proper
lady doesn’t climb through windows.”

Amy squeezed her eyes closed. “Oh, God, are my drawers truly showing? Pull my skirt down.”

“Not on your life.” He laughed softly. “Prettiest damn drawers I ever saw.”

Amy clenched her teeth. “I hate your guts. I detest you. You’re turning my life into a nightmare! How can you stand there when a woman’s underwear is showing and—and just look!”

“You’re right. That’s plain disgusting. I’ll have me a smoke while I’m at it.”

Seething, Amy strained and shoved to dislodge her foot so she could get her leg inside. A sob of frustration crawled up her throat. “You slimy bastard! Just stand there, why don’t you?”

Swift made no reply. She tried to twist her neck to see him, couldn’t. “Swift?”

Nothing. She grew still a moment to listen. He had left her! She jerked furiously on her foot. The window frame dug painfully into her shoulders, bringing tears to her eyes.

“Be still. You’re gonna keep on till you pop through like a grape out of its skin, and I’m not out there to catch you.”

She started at the sound of his voice coming from inside the house, to her right. “Scare me to death! I thought you left.”

“I’m not quite as slimy as that,” he said with a chuckle. She heard the chair scrape the floor. “It was tempting, though. If I wasn’t scared you’d break that spindly little neck of yours, I’d do it.” He grasped her ankle and tugged. “Relax, Amy. You’re stiff as a board. If I’m going to get you out, you’ll have to loosen up.”

“It’s easy for you to say. It’s my hind portion planted up here.”

“Hind portion? Sounds like a slab of beef. How about behind? Or fanny? Or—”

“So help me, Swift!”

He laughed again and gave another jerk on her foot. Her leg came loose. As it did, her upper body pitched in the opposite direction. Swift snaked an arm around her waist to catch her, plucked her off the sill into his arms, and stepped off the chair.

“Butt,” he finished with a grunt, making a half turn with her still cradled in his arms before setting her on her feet.

Amy staggered away, straightening her bodice and smoothing her skirts, cheeks aflame. “I didn’t hear you kick in my door.”

“Didn’t. I came in your sitting room window.”

“It was locked.”

“I
un
locked it.”

“But if you could—” She broke off, staring up at him. “Why’d you make all that fuss about the door, then?”

His mouth slanted into a grin, flashing white teeth. “Because I was mad. Unlocking a window wouldn’t be very satisfying. Busting it, maybe. But then you’d have been without glass until we could get a new piece ordered and delivered.”

Her eyes widened. “This is all nothing but a game to you!”

“And you’re losing.”

There was no denying that. Amy averted her face. “Well, you’re in. N-now what?”

“I’ve a mind to give you a kick on that cute little
hind portion
of yours.”

Amy glared at him. “Do it. And leave a bruise, damn you. One mark on me, and Hunter’ll kill you.”

Swift met her fiery gaze and grinned again. “You’d bare your fanny to show him? I bet I could paddle you black and blue, and you’d never do it. That’d be a sight I wouldn’t want to miss, Miss Amy with her skirts hiked up and her bare ass shining.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re infuriating. Jail, Amy? When Marshal Hilton showed up, I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

She leaned toward him, body shaking. “If it hadn’t been for Hunter, I’d have let you rot in there.”

“Now we get to the truth. I thought you said you never meant for me to be locked up?”

She advanced a step, hands knotted into fists. “I lied. Anyone dumb enough not to back down when the marshal comes calling deserves to be in jail.”

Swift stood his ground, watching her. She looked furious enough to hit him, and he was willing to let her, if only she had the courage to dare. She stopped a pace away from him, her blue eyes blazing, each cheek dotted with crimson, her lips drawn back over her teeth.

“I didn’t realize breakfast and roses would make you so mad.” He jutted his chin at her. Tapping a finger on his jaw, he taunted, “You want to hit me? Come on, Amy. Now’s your chance. Or are you too yellow? I’ll give you one free shot!”

“It wasn’t the breakfast and roses. You broke into my house. I’m tired of being stalked and tormented and threatened.”

“
Our
house.”

“
My
house, you arrogant, addle-brained Mexican.”

With that, she swung. Swift saw her fist coming at him one second and went blind the next, pain exploding up the bridge of his nose. He grabbed for his face. “Jesus Christ!”

“And don’t curse in my house.”

Her shoe glanced off his knee. He lost his balance and staggered backward against the stove. Something warm dripped through his fingers where they were cupped over his nose. He blinked, trying to see. He half expected her to strike again, now that she was getting into the swing of it, so he kept his shoulders hunched. Silence fell around him.

“Swift?” She said his name in a shaky little voice.

He blinked again. The room spun into focus.

“Swift, are you all right?”

“Hell, no, I’m not all right. You broke my goddamn nose.”

He heard her quick intake of breath. Her skirts swished closer. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God, you’re bleeding all over my floor.”

Swift cupped his other hand over his nose. “I can’t help bleeding, Amy,” he told her in a muffled voice. “Get me a rag.”

He heard water slosh. A moment later a cold cloth touched the back of his hands. He pressed it over his nostrils.

“Oh, Swift, I’m sorry. Come sit down and let me look.”

“I’ll be fine,” he protested, allowing her to pull him by the arm toward a chair.

She pressed him down and leaned over him, her small face taut with concern as she gently drew the cloth back. Looking up at her, Swift decided then and there that a broken nose was worth having seen her lose her temper. Though tears streamed from his eyes, a smile tugged at his mouth. She touched the knot along his bridge, wincing as if it were she in pain.

“Oh, Swift, I think it
is
broken.”

“A horse kicked me once. It never set right, so it doesn’t take a lot.” He mopped at the blood on his lip, jerking when her fingers touched the broken spot. “Easy! It hurts like hell.”

She drew her hand back, her expression agonized. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Swift couldn’t bite back a grin. “You little liar. You damn near shoved my nose through my brain.”

Her wide eyes met his, filled with incredulity. “You’re not mad?”

“I dared you to do it. Why be mad?” Gingerly he clasped the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, trying to straighten it. “I have to say, though, that I was expecting to get it on the jaw. I should’ve known you’d go for blood if I once got your dander up.” Giving a sniff, he tested the airflow, then angled a look at her. “It’ll mend, Amy. It’s not the first time I’ve rebroke it, and it won’t be the last.”

Dragging out another chair from the table, she sank onto it, as if her knees had given way. She heaved a weary sigh and cupped her hand over her eyes. “Oh, Swift.”

He took another swipe at his lip with the rag, studying the top of her golden head.

“I can’t take any more of this,” she admitted in a quavery voice. “I truly can’t. You have to stop.”

“Marry me, and I will stop.”

She lifted her head, fastening miserable eyes on him. “Don’t you see that I can’t?”

“Amy, I could just settle the matter and ride off with you slung over my horse.”

The color washed from her face.

“Why do you think I haven’t? I’ll tell you why. I want to make you happy. Won’t you give me a chance? I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never regret marrying me, I swear it.”

“I would abhor marriage to you.”

“You won’t, I swear it.”

“How could you make me happy, Swift?” she asked in a thin voice. “You planning on stealing and killing to make a living?”

“You know better than that.”

“Do I? It isn’t just your past that bothers me. But your refusal to change. Look at yourself. Still wearing those guns, still dressed all in black like walking death, still intimidating people. You’re not in Texas, living with the comancheros. You’re in Oregon in the
tosi
world now, and if you plan to stay, you can’t behave like a heathen.”

Swift’s eyes held hers. “I went with Marshal Hilton today. Is that how a heathen behaves?”

“And five seconds ago, you threatened to sling me over your horse and ride off with me.” Her eyes brightened with tears. “You were mad because he locked you up, because you hate being confined! How do you think you’re making me feel? Trapped!” She waved her hand at the house. “You’ve invaded my home, snuck up on me out of the darkness. You’ve turned my family against me, getting them on your side, so I can’t even ask the marshal for protection. There’s no place I’m safe from you.”

“Amy, you’re safe from me right now. That’s what I’ve been trying to make you see.” He gripped the rag in his hand and leaned toward her. “What did you think I meant to do when I got in here?”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, the tears in her eyes welling over her lashes onto her cheeks. “You wouldn’t promise not to touch me.”

“Because it’s my right. I love you. Do you think I’m going to promise away the one edge I’ve got? Just because I won’t relinquish that right doesn’t mean I’m going to exercise it.”

“You were angry. I thought you might.”

“And you were wrong. But say you hadn’t been. What if I decided, right here and now, to toss you over my shoulder and carry you to bed? Do you really believe I’d hurt you?” He pressed closer. “Look at me and tell me you think I’d harm you.”

One corner of her right eyelid began to twitch. “Harm, Swift? People can bleed inside, where you can’t see.”

His voice went low and husky. “I know you’re frightened. If you’ll only trust me, I can make that feeling go away.”

“No. Nothing will ever take it away.”

“You believed differently once.”

“I was a child then. I’m older and wiser now.”

After taking another swipe at his lip, Swift trailed a finger up a stripe on her gray satin skirt. “I know you don’t think much of me and the things I’ve done. But you do still trust my word, don’t you? For old times’ sake?”

She looked wary. “I suppose if you swore to something, knowing as I do that you were once a Comanche and never lied, I’d lean heavily toward believing you.”

He curled his fingers over her knee. “Then take this promise and hold it forever. No matter what happens, no matter how angry I might be, even if I take you, I’ll never hurt you or use you roughly. I won’t ask you to believe it’ll be good between us, because I don’t think you’re able to believe that. But I swear on my life that it won’t be bad.”

For an instant she thought of Hunter and Loretta and all that they had, wishing with all her heart that she and Swift could weave the same magic, that a home and children of her own were a possibility. But that was the child in her, spinning dreams. Reality seldom turned out so magical. “Swift, why won’t you just let it go? Even if there wasn’t all the other standing between us, we’re worlds apart. We could never make a marriage work.”