Jane Bonander (13 page)

The calf, which he’d crawled into the cave to rescue, wailed, thrusting Wolf forward into the present. He sucked in another hungry breath of air, forcing down his fear.

He’d thought the calf had been caught somehow and couldn’t escape. On further investigation, he found a rope tied to the calf’s ankle. Panic ripped at him like a spur. His pulse leaped as he traced it to a root that extended into the cave. A trap. It had been a trap. For him? But why? And by whom?

Wolf untied the calf, then dug his way through the debris, pushing dirt and small rocks to either side, forcing down his anxiety. This was a message. As he scooped away the dirt, he knew there was only one person to whom he was a threat, and she’d already warned him that she wanted him gone.

Hearing someone outside the cave, he stopped digging.

“McCloud?”

He welcomed the sound of Julia’s voice, although it bordered on panic.

“In here!” He heard her digging at the earth.

“Are you all right?”

“Oh, fine and dandy.” He pushed at the dirt, spitting it out of his mouth, brushing it from his eyes until he finally saw daylight. He shoved the bawling calf out ahead of him, then slithered into the fresh air himself.

“Oh, my gracious, McCloud.” Her face was pinched with concern. “How did this happen?”

He wasn’t about to tell her his suspicions. “Damned if I know. I was riding home, and heard the calf bawling from the cave. Somehow it had gotten caught in there.”

Frowning, Julia studied the rocks and dirt, then shifted her gaze higher, to the source of the slide. “Seems strange that it could have just tumbled down all by itself.”

“I’ve seen it happen before,” he lied.

She bent and stroked the bawling calf, looking for a mark. “Whose is it, do you know?”

“Too young to be branded. Who knows?” He knew, all right.

The baby, wrapped in what appeared to be Julia’s apron, began to fuss on the grass. Julia picked her up and held her close. “When Baptiste came back without you, the only thing I could think of was that day Sally came back without Papa.” She briefly closed her eyes, then gave him a steady look. “I was frightened, McCloud.”

He touched her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. “I’m fine.” Grinning, he added, “And better now that I know you care.”

She made an exasperated sound. “I don’t know why you have to make light of things.”

“What’s not to make light of? So part of the hill came down. So what? I could have disturbed something when I went inside. The calf is fine and I’m fine. Don’t make it out to be more than it is.”

He didn’t need her worrying about him, and because she was the woman she was, he knew she would. But until he found out why this happened, he didn’t want her to suspect anything.

They ate supper in silence, and Julia was relieved when it was time to prepare for bed. Something was bothering McCloud, of that she was certain. Oh, he’d been his convivial self all the way back from the accident, but she sensed a tension beneath the banter.

After putting Marymae down, she slipped back into the kitchen to set the yeasty dough so she could bake bread in the morning.

She felt, rather than heard, McCloud behind her. It was odd, for her senses went crazy whenever he was near. It was like nothing she’d experienced before.

“There’s nothing you can help me with, McCloud. I’m nearly done here,” she said, tossing the words over her shoulder.

“This afternoon you wanted to know my intentions.”

She stopped working and her heart took a dip in her chest. “I had no right to ask you that.” She covered the yeast starter with a warm cloth, then put it on the ledge at the back of the stove.

“You had every right. Considering the terms of the will—”

“I know you think you were tricked into this marriage, McCloud. Even
I
can’t understand why Papa would have done such a thing. I can imagine how you must feel.” She didn’t dare face him; it was easier to talk about this with her back to him.

He was so quiet, she thought he’d left. When she turned, he was leaning against the doorjamb, studying her with his earthy, dark-lashed eyes. As usual, the look made her pulse jump.

“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, Julia, things that would make you recoil and run from me in terror.” He glanced at the floor, his thumbs hooked into his belt loops. “Why Amos did this to you, I’ll never know. Personally, I think you deserve more. But I’m here for you for as long as you need me. If—” He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. “If, at some time, you find someone else—”

“This is a marriage, McCloud, not merely a partnership. Marriages aren’t dissolved because two people don’t… love each other.” She felt sick to her stomach, because she didn’t know what he was trying to say.

“That’s right.” His face was void of expression. “I just don’t want you to feel trapped.”

Me? What about you?
She couldn’t believe how much she wanted this marriage to work. And in order for it to work, she’d have to trust him as much as she was beginning to love him. She wasn’t sure that was possible.

“If I ever feel trapped, McCloud, you’ll be the first to know.” It was a statement of bravado, to assure him that she didn’t care any more for the situation than he did.

She turned out the lamp, casting the room into darkness, except for the flashes of lightning that stabbed through the window.

“Good night.” She walked past him toward the bedroom, knowing that if anyone was going to feel trapped by this marriage, it would be him.

J
ulia tossed and turned. With McCloud in the house, insomnia was becoming a ritual. She thought about him constantly. Every day she woke and found him there brought fresh wonder to her soul. Feeling the pull of sleep, she was just drifting off when something awakened her. Frowning, she sat up, listening for the noise again. Lightning flashed and a shard of thunder exploded in the distance, but she’d slept through storms before.

She listened harder, this time hearing the horses. They were kicking up a fuss. She left the bed and went to the window, a cold drenching of fear racing through her when she saw the yellow and red flames that shot into the air from the barn.

Fumbling for her work boots, she found them at the end of the bed and shoved her bare feet into them. She grabbed her robe as she ran out of the bedroom, bumping into McCloud in the hall.

“There’s a fire, McCloud! The barn is on fire!”

“I know.” He gripped her arm as he hurried toward the door. “You’d better stay here.”

“I will not. I can’t,” she argued, her voice rising as fear gorged her chest. “We have to get the animals out. Oh, God!” A wrenching sob tore from her throat as she followed McCloud outside, trying to keep pace with him.

Despite the dampness in the air, the fire crackled and roared, devouring the wood. It raced up one side to the roof, brightening as it went, showering myriad tiny glimmering spurts that exploded into masses of solid flame, licking hungrily at the black night sky.

Julia grabbed the hem of her robe and covered her nose and mouth, trying in vain to keep the smoke out of her throat. She heard Sally whinnying from inside the barn, and her heart plunged in her chest.

“Sally!” she shrieked, lurching toward the barn door.

McCloud hauled her back. “Open the corral gate, Julia! I’ll get Sally.” He yanked at the wide barn door. Plumes of smoke spewed out around it, erupting in wild abandon when he got the door open. He staggered, coughing.

“McCloud!” She ran to help him, but he motioned her away.

“Get that damned corral gate open, Julia!”

She obeyed, stumbling to the corral, pulling the door open so the horses could get out.

She ran into the enclosure and smacked Lars on the rump. He sprinted away, Baptiste at his heels. Ole, more timid, needed coaxing. Julia grabbed an old rope bit off the post and flung it over his head. He balked.

“Damn you, Ole,
move!”

Grabbing a fistful of his mane, she tried to pull herself onto his back. It wasn’t possible without a leg up. She went in front of him and yanked on the rope again, tugging at him until he reared, pulling the rope from Julia’s grasp as he galloped through the gate to safety.

Julia’s eyes stung from the smoke, causing tears to stream down her cheeks. She swiped at them with her fingers, then the sleeve of her robe as she stumbled from the corral.

She ran to the barn door, which looked like the mouth to hell, for dark smoke and flames ebbed and surged in the opening. “McCloud!”

He staggered out, his handkerchief over his mouth. She caught him before he fell to his knees, coughing. “I’m all right.” He coughed again, as if dredging up the putrid smoke from his lungs, then turned toward the barn.

Julia clung to his arm. “Where are you going?”

“It’s Sally. She’s still in there.” Even though he was shouting, she could barely hear him over the noise of the fire. Frantic light from the flames illuminated him, and she saw that his face was bathed in sweat and dirt.

Julia cringed from the intense heat and the crashing noise of timber splintering, popping, and cracking around her. “But, you can’t—”

“I have to!” He wrenched free.

Suddenly his safety was most important to her. “McCloud! It’s not worth your life!”

Once again, he was inside the inferno.

A flicker of light caught her eye, and she gasped, catching sight of a flame as it leaped from the roof and onto a small pile of dried wood near the chicken coop. She ran, pulling off her robe as she stumbled over the uneven ground. Angry sparks burst into flame, and she took her robe in both hands and beat at the fire until there was nothing left but charred wood.

Exhausted, she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then turned toward the seldom-used paddock her father had built well away from the barn. The stallion and her geldings were there, and her milk cows and the calf were feeding on a patch of winter wildflowers that grew near the house. But Sally still wasn’t there.

Julia ran toward the barn. Heat and smoke attacked her eyes and throat but she pressed on, mindless of her own discomfort. She had to save Sally. Her precious mare! She was almost to the door when McCloud staggered out again and grabbed her.

“Let me go!” She fought him, trying to pull away from him.

The barn shuddered beneath the weight of the flames. A thundering roar billowed out from the inferno. In a heartbeat, the roof collapsed, sending flames and sparks exploding into the night sky.

Julia recoiled, allowing McCloud to hold her fast. “It’s too late, Julia.”

Her mouth quivered and her eyes filled again, and she felt a wrenching, aching tightness in her chest. The final shrill, high-pitched scream from her mare as the flames engulfed her sent Julia against McCloud’s chest. Clinging to him, she pinched her eyes shut, dying inside, suffering with despair at the loss of her mare.

“Oh, McCloud.” She pressed close to him, inhaling the smoky smell while her tears dampened his shirt. “She’s gone. My poor, poor Sally.” She continued to weep.

He put his hand on the back of her head, drawing her to him.

Snaking her arms around his waist, she wept as thoughts of the loss invaded her quiet dreams. Both Papa and the barn he’d built were gone. And now, Sally was gone, too. There would be no foal come next winter. There was nothing.

“I’m sorry, Julia. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her. She was a good mare.”

Julia felt a fresh flood of tears. “Don’t blame yourself, McCloud. It’s not your fault.” And she meant it. If she’d had to make a choice between McCloud and Sally, this is the one she would have made. Still, she sobbed, the pain of her loss twisting inside her like bailing wire. Wiping her eyes, she turned, and they watched the barn burn together.

“What do you suppose happened?” she asked, wiping her face with her fingers. “Lightning?”

He rubbed her arm, warming her. “Sure. It could have been lightning.”

“Oh, God, I just hate to stand here, doing nothing while the barn burns to the ground.” She took a shaky breath. “I remember how proud Papa was when he’d finished building it.” She pressed her lips together, knowing she was going to cry again.

“Go inside, Julia. There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing either of us can do. The other animals will be fine. In the morning, we can think about rebuilding.”

She gave him a caustic laugh that ended in a sob. “With what? Wishes and dreams?”

He held her close as they turned away from the dwindling fire. “I’ve got some money.”

“But, McCloud,” she argued, “that’s yours. It was enough that you put a dent in my bills. You shouldn’t have to—”

“Don’t worry about it. Right now, the money is the last thing we should be concerned about.”

It was a cryptic statement, but Julia was too drained to dwell on it. Grateful he was with her, she put her arm around his waist and her head against his shoulder as they walked toward the house.

Once in the kitchen, she lit the lamp. She felt a bubble of laughter in spite of her anguish as the light flickered over him. It was the second time in a day that he looked like he’d wallowed in a pig pen. “You’re a mess.”

He grinned, exposing white teeth that appeared that much whiter because of his black, soot-smudged face. “You’re not dressed for a trip to church, yourself.”

She glanced down, remembering that she’d left her charred robe at the site of the smaller fire. Her nightgown was streaked with dirt and soot. Her hands were filthy, her bare legs cold. The smell of smoke permeated the room.

Drawing her gaze to his again, she saw that his shirt was torn, one sleeve hanging in shreds. There was a singed circle on the fabric above his left shoulder blade. She touched it. “You could have been burned.” The thought of it brought a knot to her throat.

His fingers moved to her braid, which hung over her shoulder. “You, too.”

With a shaky sigh, she stepped away from him. “I was going to suggest coffee, but—” She gave him a sad, wry smile. “I think we both need a bath.” Realizing the inference, she gasped and pressed her fingers to her lips.

His eyes were warm, his smile slow and lazy. “Any other time, and I’d take you up on that, Julia, but not tonight.”

She blushed, unable to conjure up a picture of the two of them in a tub of water together. “Aren’t you ever serious, McCloud?”

“Who says I’m not serious?” His lopsided grin and the mischief in his eyes told her he was. He took the pail off the counter and walked to the door. “I’ll get you more water and bring in the tub.”

She took a step toward him. “McCloud?”

He turned, his eyes intent as he studied her from across the room.

“Do you want me to save some warm water for you?”

He shook his head, his gaze lingering. “Don’t worry about me, Julia. I’ll clean up outside.”

After bringing her water and the tub, he went into his bedroom, returning with clean clothes and a towel. The clothes were slung over his arm, the towel around his neck. He was bare to the waist.

Julia’s stomach was clenching nervously. “Where will you be?”

“I’m going to check on the stock, then I’ll wash up at the pump.”

She noted his amused smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Don’t worry, dear wife,” he said, the words sounding strangely endearing as he walked toward the door, “I’ll give you plenty of time to finish.”

Warmth flooded her face as she poured a teakettle of hot water into the cold that was in the oblong tin tub. “I wasn’t worried about that,” she lied.

His smile was filled with the same heat that warmed his eyes. “You should be.” He closed the door behind him.

Pressing her hands over her beating heart, Julia went to the window and watched him walk toward the paddock. When she was certain he wasn’t going to double back, she hurried to the table, lit the squat candle and turned out the lamp, which gave off more light. She put the candle on the floor by the tub, un-braided her hair, and pulled off her boots and her filthy nightgown. Shivering in the cold room, she stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water. She couldn’t stay long; he could return any time.

She washed her face and hair, then wrapped a towel around her head and leaned against the rim of the tub. The towel acted as a pillow, and she felt a weary lethargy sweep over her. Shaking herself to stay awake, she scrubbed her hands and feet. It wasn’t possible to fall asleep in the tub, anyway. It was far too small. Oh, but the water felt so good. She huddled deeper into the warmth, vowing to enjoy the water only until it got uncomfortably cool.

Wolf stepped inside. The room was dark except for the candle Julia had left on the floor beside the tub. He wondered why she hadn’t put it on the table. He crossed to the tub, intending to carry it out and empty it, preferably somewhere near the smoldering rubble of the barn. He stopped short and his throat locked. She was asleep, her head wrapped in a towel. His gut tightened, for the rest of her was not wrapped in anything at all.

He spun away, rubbing his hand over his face, cursing the wild beating of his heart. He stared into the darkness, the faint light of the candle allowing him to see her out of the corner of his eye.

Wake her, fool.
He swallowed a derisive laugh. Yeah, that was the answer. He could see it now.
Oh, Julia. Wake up, dear wife. Don’t look so stunned,
ma bichette.
I didn’t look at your succulent, upthrusting breasts with the sweet, pink nipples. And I didn’t even notice your long, silky legs, one bent slightly to give me a view of the patch of golden hair between your thighs.

Hell. He wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead, then pressed the cloth against his eyes. Slinging the towel over his shoulder, he felt a rush of relief when he noticed that she slept on. She didn’t even have to know he’d been there.

He went into the living room and added wood to the fire, building a powerful blaze that heated the room. As he studied the fire, he knew he couldn’t leave her in the tub. He’d go out the front door and come in through the back, making enough noise to wake a drugged mule.

Julia woke, disoriented. She knocked her knee on the side of the tub and cringed as the cold water splashed over her bare stomach. Drenched in goose bumps, she shivered, rose, and stepped from the tub. As she reached for the towel that hung over the chair, she heard the door open. She grabbed the towel, holding it in front of her like a shield, her heart hammering and her knees quaking.

McCloud entered the room and stopped, appearing as surprised as she was.

She stepped from one foot to the other, her body wet as she shivered behind the towel. “You could have knocked,” she scolded. Thank heavens she’d at least had time to grab the towel.

He swaggered toward her, and though it was too dark to see his face, she knew without asking that the worm was smiling.

“What? And miss all this?”

The smile in his voice was proof enough. She attempted to dry herself without revealing any more of her body than was already exposed. “Get out of here and let me dry off, McCloud, I’m freezing to death.”

“If you hadn’t fallen asleep in the tub, this wouldn’t have happened.”

She gasped. “You—” He’d
seen
her!

He stopped in front of her, close enough to touch. His chest was brown and hard, the muscles well-defined. He radiated a heat that drowned her senses. “Want me to wipe your back?” And his voice was silky and seductive.

“You
peeked!”
She lashed out at him, but he caught her hand.

Gripping her fingers, he brought them to his mouth and stared into her eyes, holding her gaze. “You fell asleep,” he reminded her, his breath falling hot against the soft surface of her fingers.