Nan Ryan (36 page)

Quick as a flash he reached out, clamped his hand atop her shoulder, and shoved her back down into the chair. “I said for you to sit down.”

Texas Kate gasped, flabbergasted. But then she smiled nervously. Nodding, she murmured, “Yes, sir. Okay, Shorty, if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” he assured her, his hand still atop her shoulder. “I got something to say, and you’re going to listen.” He abruptly released her shoulder. “I don’t want you interrupting, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Good.” Shorty coughed needlessly, cleared his throat, and plunged ahead. “I know you loved Teddy Ray Worthington, and I know there ain’t no man could ever take Worthington’s place. But, Katie, the man’s dead. Your husband is dead. He’d been dead for over thirty years and nothing—”

“I guess—”

“Be quiet. I’m not finished. Worthington was killed in the War Between the States. If he hadn’t been killed, why, he’d a come home to Texas and you as soon as it was over. No man would have stayed away from you. But he didn’t come back, and he’s not ever coming back. And that’s the God’s truth, Kate.”

“Yes … I know. I guess I’ve known for a long time.” Kate was surprised at herself. It didn’t make her feel sad to say it. Teddy Ray Worthington, the sweet, gentle boy she’d married when she was little more than a girl, was dead. Had been dead for over thirty years. And now she couldn’t even remember exactly what he had looked like. “Teddy Ray died in the War. I know that, Shorty.”

Shorty reached out, touched her cheek with calloused fingers. “Honey, he’s dead, but you’re not. And I’m not.” He cupped her cheek tenderly in his hand. “I love you, Kate Worthington. I’ve loved you for an awful long time. You’re my first love, and you’re my last love. I can’t wait much longer.” His eyes and his voice softened when he added, “Ah, honey, don’t you see, we ain’t kids. We don’t have that many good years left to us. Let’s don’t waste any more of ’em.”

“Shorty, I—”

“I know, honey, I know. You need a little time to think it over. I understand that. You can’t bury one man in the afternoon and marry another that same night.” He smiled at her. “You start saying good-bye to Teddy Ray now, my sweet Katie. And when you’ve said that final good-bye, why, I’ll come for you and we’ll just take ourselves on down to the parson and get ourselves married.” Still smiling, he leaned down and kissed her. Kissed her right on the mouth.

“If you had any idea how many times I’ve wanted to do that,” Shorty said, his eyes warm with feeling. Still reeling from that unexpected kiss, Texas Kate was shocked to the roots of her grayish brown hair when Shorty suddenly winked at her, inclined his head, and added, “Marry me, honey, and I’ll show you there’s more to life than shooting glass balls out of the air.”

“Why, Shorty Jones!” Kate blushed hotly, and butterflies took wing in her stomach. “Is that any way to talk before a woman?”

“It’s the way for
me
to talk before
my
woman,” he said. Then: “I’ll make you a good husband, Katie. I can’t promise the road ahead will be easy. We both know the show’s in trouble, but whatever comes, it’ll be easier if we face it together.”

Nodding, Texas Kate smiled while tears glistened in her eyes. Flustered, happy, excited, she said, “Yes, we’ll face it together. The two of us. Together.” She smiled shyly then and asked, “Shorty, can I get up now?”

Shorty laughed. “Darlin’ girl, you can do anything you please.” He drew her to her feet, wrapped his wiry arms around her thick waist, and squeezed her so tightly she dissolved into giggles of embarrassed pleasure.

Texas Kate looped her arms around Shorty’s neck, and the pair danced happily around the room like a couple of carefree kids. When they finally grew dizzy and sagged against the wall to catch their breath, Kate realized that the gloomy afternoon fog had cleared away. Her third-floor room was flooded with bright, cheery sunshine.

And so was her heart.

Chapter 33

Starkeeper’s dark face in profile against the distant redwoods seemed somehow sadly fitting. Perfectly framed there in the train’s window, his harshly sculpted features appeared as hard as the solid wood of those faraway giant sequoias.

Pretending to doze in the seat beside him, Diane silently studied the sharply cut contours of his set, handsome face. He had remained distant and unreachable throughout the long train trip. He had sat in the seat beside her—so close she could reach out and touch him —the entire time. All the way down from the mountains of Wyoming, across the rugged canyon lands of Utah and through the high country deserts of Nevada.

In all that time, through all those countless hours of crisp, chilly mornings and bright, hot afternoons and dark, starry nights, Starkeeper had been polite but aloof. Solicitous yet detached. Civil but cool.

So near yet so far away—like a star.

Golden Star’s advice came back to Diane. When she asked the old Shoshoni woman how to change Starkeeper’s mind, Golden Star’s eyes had twinkled mischievously, and she’d said, “Why, the same way women have always done it,” and she had winked.

Diane knew exactly what Golden Star had meant. The wise, understanding old woman knew that Diane’s only chance was first to make Starkeeper desire her. To make him want her so badly he couldn’t resist taking her in his arms. And when she was in his arms, when his defenses were down, maybe then she’d be able to make him realize that she really cared, that she loved him.

Diane experienced a terrible sinking feeling. She was not going to get the opportunity.

The sagebrush-dotted desert lands had been left behind, and they were now well up into the Sierras. A violent afternoon rainstorm had ended a half hour ago. The sun was out again, shining down from a clear blue sky. But the air was cool and thin, their elevation high. Bristlecone pines grew down to the railroad right-of-way, and the train’s locomotive and several cars were out of sight around a mountainous curve.

They were nearing their final destination. Her time with Starkeeper was rapidly running out. Or had it already run out? Was the station just around the bend? Were there only a precious few minutes left before—

The moving train suddenly lurched. The screeching sound of the heavy wheels grinding to a sudden stop on the slick steel tracks was almost deafening. Startled passengers, jolted in their seats, looked about in confusion. Nervous chatter erupted.

Diane lunged up, looked anxiously out the window, and saw men on foot up ahead, madly waving their arms. Puzzled, she turned questioning eyes on Starkeeper. He shrugged but rose from his seat, stepping past her when the train pitched to a final stop.

“Stay here,” he ordered, and moved down the narrow aisle.

After hurriedly scooting over into his vacated seat, Diane threw open the window, leaned out, and watched Starkeeper as he walked along beside the halted train, moving forward at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no particular hurry. Other curious passengers poured from the coaches and joined him in the trek toward the front of the train.

In minutes Diane saw Starkeeper coming back toward her. Flanked by two shorter men who both were excitedly talking at once, he appeared to be unruffled. He reboarded the train, came down the aisle, dropped down into the seat beside her.

“A rockslide,” he said flatly. “The thunderstorm dislodged a number of huge boulders on the higher cliffs above. The loosened rocks came crashing down across the tracks. Looks as if it just happened.”

“Then we’re lucky we weren’t hit.”

“Yes, lucky,” he said, not sounding as if he thought they were lucky. “A couple of those rocks are as big as this coach and must weigh several tons each.”

“Good heavens, that’s frightening,” she said.

Then it occurred to her, if rocks weighing tons were covering the railroad tracks, how would the train be able to move? How could they get to the depot? Maybe that’s why Starkeeper had begun to scowl.

“How far are you able to walk?” His question surprised her.

“I’m not really sure. How far away are we from—”

“Too far,” he said, shaking his dark head.

“Then why ask me?”

He exhaled. “It’s going to be morning before the tracks will be cleared. We could possibly get a ride into town, but it wouldn’t do much good.”

“It wouldn’t?”

“No. You still couldn’t get out of Virginia City until these tracks are clear and this train comes through.”

Her eyes clinging to his hard, handsome face, Diane asked, “Then what will we do? Stay here on the train?”

He said, “You look pale and tired. You need a good night’s rest. My home is not that far from here. Five miles at the most. If you feel up to walking it, we can stay the night there and—”

“Yes!” Diane could hardly hide her excitement. “Let’s do that. Let’s spend the night at your place. I think—I’m sure I can walk five miles.” A reprieve! Another chance!
Oh, thank you, God, thank you!

“Let’s go then,” he said, his irritation barely concealed.

If Diane was thrilled about the unexpected delay, Starkeeper was not. He had suffered through every hour of the long train ride with her beside him. He had gritted his teeth each time her dark head had sagged tiredly against his supporting shoulder. He’d kept his eyes off her pale, beautiful face and slender, lissome body as much as he possibly could. He’d felt that even idle conversation was dangerous, so he had assiduously avoided it. Just the sound of her voice speaking his name—his real name, Starkeeper, instead of Beast—made his heart race.

And just when he thought the torture was finally coming to an end, a damned rockslide had halted the train. Jesus, if the fallen rocks could have held on to the mountainside for another ten minutes, the train would have been safely past. And then within the hour he’d have stood watching from the Virginia City platform as the train pulled away from the station. With her on board. Taking her once and forever out of his sight. Getting her out of his hair.

And out of his heart.

Damn his rotten luck to hell!

By the time they walked a couple of miles, Diane was breathing hard and her heartbeat was rapid. Walking in the mountains was not easy. They climbed up and over the rugged terrain, and the air was so thin she felt as if her lungs might explode.

“You okay?” Starkeeper cast a glance at her as she struggled up a rocky draw.

“Fi—fine,” she assured him, feeling as if she couldn’t go one more yard. “Just fine.”

Silently cursing him for taking long strides, making it almost impossible for her to keep up, she followed him over rock-strewn hillsides and through forests of thick, fragrant evergreens and tall pines. Besides, he had on boots and trousers while she was dressed in her white blouse and skirt and wore only thin leather slippers on her feet.

Using her hands to help pull herself up an incline, she saw Starkeeper poised at the top. With effort, she managed to scramble the rest of the way up to where he stood. He pointed across a verdant valley to a massive mountain which appeared to be solid rock. Diane stared intently at the soaring peak and almost missed the lone dwelling located far up on its southern face, a huge structure which was the exact same hue as the rock to which it clung.

“Sun Mountain,” Starkeeper pointed to the mountain’s rocky summit.

Diane pointed, too. But she pointed at the curious earth-colored edifice clinging to the mountainside. “What is that?”

Casually Starkeeper replied, “My home.”

As she held her side where a painful stitch plagued her, Diane’s eyes were fixed on Star’s house. It was easy to imagine the home’s big porcelain bathtubs and clean, soft beds. But she was so tired she wasn’t certain she could make it all the way down into the valley and then up the steep face of Sun Mountain.

Diane’s head snapped around when Starkeeper moved closer, looked down into her upturned face, and said, “You can’t make it, can you?”

“I most certainly can, I—”

She stopped speaking when he swept her up into his powerful arms and started off down the hill, carrying her as if she were as light as a feather.

Diane sighed with grateful relief, wrapped her arms around his neck, and said, “Thank you, Star.”

“You’re welcome, Diane.”

Diane smiled, confident he could and would safely take her all the way up to his mountainside home. Cautiously she laid her head on his shoulder and was grateful that he didn’t seem to mind. She closed her eyes for a few minutes and rested. When she opened them, they had crossed the smooth valley floor and were climbing swiftly up the southern face of the soaring Sun Mountain.

Star’s home had momentarily disappeared. They climbed higher, and Diane could again see the stucco mansion above. It sat alone in solitary splendor, so secluded and private it was as if there were no one else in the world.

Diane was about to comment on that fact when her attention was drawn to a big, sleek cat poised on a craggy ledge a few yards ahead. Alarmed at first, she spotted the dark diamond patch of fur beneath the lion’s throat and immediately relaxed. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The
same
big cat. He was here in Nevada. He’d followed them all the way from Wind River.