Fired Up (18 page)

“You saved her,” Glynna sobbed.

Dare found himself alone with Glynna, who'd worked by his side all afternoon and into the evening without shedding a single tear. “Didn't you calmly sew my back up just a little while ago? And you've been working beside me easy as can be for hours. How come you're crying now?”

Dare knew he sounded too harsh. It was possible he was on the ragged edge of his own self-control. Glynna had clearly gone over the edge.

She cried harder. “You saved her hand. Maybe her life.”

The cut had the potential to be life threatening if a lot of things had gone wrong, but they hadn't, so Dare wasn't about to claim he'd saved her life.

“I d-didn't have time to c-cry before.” Glynna turned to Janny, who was still unconscious. Dare had carefully given her more laudanum, twice during the long day, and she was deeply asleep. Dare feared giving her too much; he'd never dosed a youngster before this day.

“That's just a pure stupid thing to say.” Dare couldn't stand much more female fussing. Janny had about been
his limit. Just listening to the little one, usually so quiet, scream in pain and fear, fighting Dare and Glynna, was enough to make a grown man cry—if he'd been a weak-bellied girl child.

“I know it is . . .” Glynna cried harder and hugged herself. She looked lonelier than anyone Dare had ever seen. “But I can't st-stop.”

They'd stitched for so long, the sun had set on the short Texas day. Paul had come in a few times to see Janny, with Vince close at his side. He'd been subdued and had himself under control. But the hostility was back. Dare had made inroads with Paul over talk of hunting and doctoring, but now it was back to where they'd begun with Paul's anger focused squarely on Dare. Eventually, even with his suspicions, exhaustion had caught up with Paul and he'd fallen asleep in a chair. Glynna had awakened the boy, and he was so groggy he'd allowed himself to be sent to bed.

The whole house was quiet now. Jonas and Tina had gone home with an offer to come back at a moment's notice. Luke and Ruthy were back at their ranch.

Vince said he'd stay but there was nothing to do, so Dare sent him home, too. He was probably out there right now standing guard.

Night had fallen. Four lanterns kept the room bright. Dare could hear Paul snoring steadily in the bedroom upstairs.

Looking at Glynna sobbing was more than Dare could stand. He moved without making a decision to do it.

Glynna, on the far side of Janny's bedside, moved also. With hardly a thought, Dare pulled her into his arms.

No kiss this time. He just held her as she cried. Her hair had started out the day in a tidy braid, coiled at the nape of her neck. The braid hung down now, and Dare's finger slid into the thick rope of hair and knocked away the ribbon that held it.

As the hair unwound, his hands sunk deep into the silky golden waves. He relished the feel of it as he held her tight, her body shaking with sobs. He stood with Glynna in his arms, stunned at the need to take care of this strong, wounded woman.

It seemed like the worthy work of a lifetime, more important than doctoring. More valuable than ranching.

He knew with clear purpose that he wanted the right to protect and care for this woman, to share his life with her. He lifted her chin and looked into those beautiful, tear-soaked golden eyes and it was inevitable that he kiss her.

But as the kiss deepened, he knew it was wrong. He couldn't do this until he'd earned her son's blessing—her son who might've tried to kill him.

Glynna had thought she was beyond womanly dreams, beyond expecting a handsome prince to ride into her life and save her.

And then Dare Riker kissed her. True, that had happened before, but not like this.

His hands sunk deep in her hair and adjusted the angle of the kiss, and she wanted nothing more than to stay forever in the fortress of his arms.

She had a son who was killing mad all the time, and a daughter who barely spoke and was still in life-threatening danger.

Dare had handled her son, though that problem remained. He'd handled her daughter's injury, though she still needed healing.

Now he was handling her, and she couldn't bear to end it.

Even if she should.

Her arms swept around his neck as he dragged her deeper into the kiss. She'd been married twice and no man had ever given her this much pleasure, which was a sad commentary.

Dare slowly, gently, slid his hands to cup her face and lifted his head. He moved back just enough to rest his forehead against hers and take an unsteady breath.

She reached one shaky hand up to touch his lips. “Your mustache tickles.”

Nodding, Dare said, “I'll shave it off. I'll do whatever you want that'll keep you kissing me.”

Glynna smiled, and then her smile quickly faded. “It's not just about me and what I want, Dare.”

“I know. We need to figure out what to do about Paul's anger. But I can't pretend I'm not interested in you, Glynna. What are we going to do about this?”

As she ran her finger along his lip, Glynna knew what she'd like to do. She'd like to find a way to join her life with Dare's forever. He was a different kind of man from her other husbands. She knew him, and she'd barely known either of the men she'd married.

“I can't let you into my life while Paul is so angry.”

“You may not have noticed”—Dare stole another kiss—“but I'm already in your life.”

Glynna had indeed noticed. “If we just had more time . . .”

“I know.” Dare stepped away as if he had to force each movement. Glynna stumbled, and Dare steadied her but kept his distance. “I won't make things worse for the boy.”

“And it's not as noticeable,” Glynna said with a glance at her sleeping daughter, “but Janny is in trouble, too. She wasn't a quiet little girl before I came to live with Flint. Today, screaming and fighting the way she did, was almost a relief. She never disobeys, never even asks for anything. Paul's rage and Janny's silence are damage that's been done to them that I have to heal. But I don't know how beyond giving them time and safety.”

Dare laid one finger on Glynna's lips. The touch became a caress. His eyes glinted with sudden determination. “I know we have to be patient, but I like having you near me, Glynna. I like it too much.”

As he lowered his head to kiss her, he said, “Nothing has ever felt so right.”

“This is so wrong.” She muttered the words but didn't break the kiss, which told Dare a lot.

When Glynna was utterly limp in his arms, he let her lower her head to his chest and they just held each other. Like earlier, only without Glynna soaking his shirt.

“What are we going to do about Paul?”

“I'll have a man-to-man talk with him.”

Glynna pulled away just enough that Dare had to either wrestle her back or let her go.

“Paul has good reason to distrust men.”

“I know Flint was hard on you, but—”

“It's not just Flint.”

“He said something about his pa.” What the kid had said was he should have killed his pa. That was something mighty ugly for a kid to have inside him. “That marriage was a bad one, too? Is that where Janny learned to be afraid of laudanum?”

“Yes, and Reggie had a fondness for blue ruin, too.” Glynna folded her arms across her chest. “That's where I learned my doctoring.”

“Your first husband was a doctor?”

“No, my first husband was forever coming home in need of medical treatment, and we couldn't summon a doctor.”

“Why not?”

“Because my husband was a deserter from the Confederate army.”

That tightened Dare's jaw. He had no use for cowards, but a lot of men had run away. “He isn't the only man who just went home. There were plenty of 'em.”

“There weren't plenty who made a career out of it.”

Dare tried to figure that out. “A career?”

“There was a bounty being paid to any man who would sign up for the war.”

“They had those in the North, too.”

“My husband signed up over a dozen times.”

Clamping his mouth shut, Dare stroked his mustache to keep from saying anything. Dare had heard of varmints
who signed up over and over, finding a new unit to join. In fact, he'd been in Andersonville Prison with those kinds of mangy coyotes. The worst of the Raiders were men who'd only signed up planning to get the enrolling fees, then run off. Some had done it many times. A new name, a new state, a new commanding officer. No one could keep a good tally of everyone who came to fight, or not fight in the case of these sidewinders.

Then these men, if they got taken prisoner before they could run off, had no loyalty to the Yankees and they kept up their thieving ways. After Dare and his Regulator friends had brought peace to the camp, men like Glynna's husband had spent a good chunk of their time trying to kill him. He had three knife wounds in his back to prove they'd come real close.

A chill went through Dare. He fought to hide his revulsion. There were no men he held in greater contempt than those who were disloyal to their own brothers-in-arms. He understood desertion. He understood men who were overwhelmed and heartsick and just gave up the fight to go home—that was a different kind of man, and Dare didn't hold their behavior against them.

Much.

But to take the money and desert as Glynna's first husband had was cold-blooded thievery. It stole money from an already bankrupt war effort. Such a man had no loyalty to his country, his commanding officers, or his fellow soldiers.

“You sewed him up a few times, then?” He forced himself to talk when he wanted to walk out. Glynna had
patched her husband up, probably helped him hide, then she'd sent him off to war again. It was pretty clear she hadn't liked the man, but she'd probably spent the money he brought home while Yankees in Andersonville starved and Confederate soldiers marched barefoot with broken-down weapons.

With a humorless laugh, Glynna turned away and spoke with her back to him. “You're just like everyone else.”

Dare must've done a poor job of keeping his expression blank. “Everyone else?”

“They hung him. They hung my first husband. Paul Reginald Sevier. My son is Paul Gaston Sevier. Such a proud old name. The marriage was arranged and we'd barely met before the wedding. Reggie was handsome and polished. His father presented us with a beautiful home and gave us a steady income, never asking his son to work. We had Paul right away, and Reggie was so proud to bestow the family name on his own son. He wasn't a bad man, not at first. I thought I had a good marriage. But as the years passed, Reggie was gone more and more. I was busy with my society friends, and most of them had similarly distant marriages, so I didn't mind it overly. And then one night when I was expecting Janny, Reggie came home smelling of perfume.”

“Glynna, I'm sorry he was that kind of man. But it's a long way from a wealthy high-society cheat to an army deserter.”