Texas Lucky (18 page)

She wanted to hug him but didn’t dare in his condition. Instead, she kissed his cheek and said, “I promise you won’t regret it.”

“No,
you
won’t,” he laughed. “But
I
will, ’cause you got a lot to learn, and it won’t be easy.”

Tess knew that was so but was determined to succeed.

And, as she sat there washed with happiness for the first time in too long to remember, there was but one shadow keeping her from total bliss.

Curt Hammond would never know he had been wrong about her.

And oh, how she wished he could.

Chapter Fourteen

The day wore on.

Tess tried to tend Ben’s wound, but there was little she could do. It was not bleeding badly, just oozing, but she had sense enough to know if the arrow did not come out soon and if he did not receive proper treatment, he was going to die.

He was quiet, drifting away now and then. She was not sure whether he was sleeping or lapsing into unconsciousness, but she was grateful he was still. When he moved about, the oozing got worse.

When he was awake, he would sip on the whiskey. She was glad Joe had left it. Without it, the pain would probably have been much worse.

Her own lips became parched, her throat unbearably dry. When she could stand it no longer, she crept down to get water from the creek.

As she stepped from the last rock onto the ground, she gave a little cry and threw her arms over head against the sudden flapping of wings as the startled vultures flew away.

She took one look…and gagged.

The vultures had been tearing at what was left of poor Sulley, as well as the horses.

“Oh, Sulley, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, forcing herself to go to him. It was not right, she thought with anger building, for him to be subjected to such indignity.

And she would not allow it.

The Indians had taken their dead, as well as plundered the stagecoach. They had smashed the trunks on the ground to open them, taken what they wanted, and left the rest to scatter in the breeze.

They would not be back.

But the vultures would. They had landed on overhanging rocks to perch and watch her warily but patiently, waiting for her to go away so they could return to their feast.

“Well, you bastards will have a hard time getting to it,” she muttered as she set about in a frenzy gathering rocks as large as she could carry.

It took a while, but finally Sulley’s body was entirely covered. The vultures might eventually get to him, but they would have to work at it, and she could always hope Joe and the Army would arrive before then.

What if they didn’t?

She shuddered at the thought but knew it was a very real possibility. After all, there was no way of knowing whether Joe and Iris even made it. The Indians might have tracked them down and killed them. Or the horse they were riding might have collapsed in the heat with so much weight on his back. Anything could have happened.

But she had to hope.

And she had to remain strong.

Finding a canteen the Indians had either overlooked or did not want, Tess filled it from the creek.

Her stomach rolled with hunger, but there was no food to be found. The Indians had taken the satchel with hardtack and dried beef that Joe had kept under his seat. But she wasn’t worried about herself. It was Ben who needed to keep up his strength.

Returning to the hiding place, she found him wide awake and waiting to rail at her.

“If I was able, I swear I’d turn you over my knee and burn your bottom, li’l lady. Are you crazy? Wandering off like that? I was fixin’ to try to go look for you.”

She held up the canteen. “We needed water.”

He held up the whiskey bottle. “I got what I need. And what took you so long?” he demanded. “I been awake over an hour, I know.”

She told him about covering Sulley’s body with rocks.

His tone softened. “Well, that was good of you, Tess, but if the buzzards don’t get him, the coyotes will. Let’s just hope Joe gets back with the soldiers real soon.”

Wanting to get their minds on something else, she said, “Tell me about your ranch.”

“Ahh, my ranch.” He smiled. “I only wish if I die here somebody will take me back and bury me there, ’cause it’s probably as close to heaven as I’ll ever get.”

He described how he had moved west with his wife when his son was only a little tyke. When she had died in childbirth a few years later, along with the baby, he had stayed on.

Working hard and acquiring more land through the years, he was rewarded with a successful operation. “Suffered during the war like lots of folks,” he said, “but I managed to survive. So life is good, except for Portia doin’ her best to make everybody around her miserable.

“But don’t you worry,” he assured, “she won’t give you no trouble. I’ll see to it, ’cause you’re going home with me, like I promised, whether she likes it or not. It’s the least I can do after you’ve stuck by like you have.”

She started to assure him once more of her gratitude and intent to work hard, but suddenly he cried, “Your money. I just now thought about it. Did the Indians get it?”

“No,” she was proud to tell him, then explained how she kept it hidden by sewing it in the hem of her dress.

“That’s smart, but the first thing we’ll do when we get to Dallas is put it in a bank where it will be safe.”

“Will it be enough to buy me a good-sized ranch? I had…” she paused, about to tell him she’d had twice that much before Curt had stolen from her, then decided there was no need. Instead, she hastened to amend, “I had hoped to have more, but I don’t.”

“It’ll get you started, but not all the money in the world will matter if you don’t know what you’re doing. Sure, you’re a woman, and there’s a lot you can’t manage on your own, but you can learn what the help you’re paying is supposed to do so they won’t take advantage of you.

“First,” he said with enthusiasm, “we’ll teach you how to ride a horse proper. None of this sidesaddle stuff women are taught. You’d slide right off the first time you tried to rope a calf.”

It all sounded so exciting, and Tess was thrilled Ben admitted to looking forward to it as well. She vowed he would never be sorry he had agreed to help her, and she would treasure each and every thing he taught her.

Darkness began to creep over them. The air was cool, and Tess wished for a blanket so she could cover Ben.

She was so hungry she felt sick to her stomach but was not about to complain. Ben had to be famished as well, and talking about it would only make it worse for both of them.

She sipped the water and eventually slept, only to be abruptly awakened a short while later by a loud snap, followed by a grunt of pain and a string of curses.

She blinked against the stygian world surrounding her and whispered frantically, “Ben, are you all right?”

“I’m better now that I broke this damned arrow off.”

“But you said it might make you bleed more.”

“Well, I had to, because I kept bumping it when I was sleeping, which made it hurt worse and bleed more.”

Tess gingerly groped around and felt the spreading wetness. He had made it bleed even worse. Quickly she tore a strip of cloth from her petticoat to pack against his side. “This might help.”

“Lord, Lord, li’l lady,” he crooned as the whiskey, as well as weakness, began to take him away once more, “I’d have died without you, for sure.”

You may die
with
me
, she thought morosely as she continued to pack the cloth around the base of the arrow, for she knew that if help did not arrive soon, they would both perish.

After a while, she was able to doze off again, this time to wake in terror as mournful screams seemed to reach out for her.

“Oh, God…” She sat up and pressed her back against a rock, dizzily wishing she had a gun, even though she did not know how to use one. She could not depend on Ben to rally and protect her. In his stupor, he was useless.

Or so she thought.

“It’s nothing to be scared of,” he said calmly. “Just coyotes, spreading the word about the horse carcasses…and Sulley’s body under all them rocks. Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll never be able to sleep now,” she said in a thin, ragged voice. “And what if they come up here after us?”

His response was matter-of-fact. “I’ll hear them coming and shoot them.”

“But what if you don’t wake up?”

“You have to learn lots of things if you want to survive, Tess, and not falling all the way to sleep in this kind of situation is one of them.”

She wanted to believe him, and maybe if he had not been drinking all day she would have.

After a time, the cries of coyotes stopped. Either they had found their way to the dead horses and the rocks covering Sulley or gone elsewhere. Tess did not want to know, willing daylight to hurry and come. At least then she could see what frightened her and not have to imagine what made the strange night sounds that chilled her to the bone.

She tried to sleep, but, as always, thoughts of Curt crept into her mind, and heart, to haunt and ponder.

Would he have abandoned her if he had not thought her a coward?

Or had he only been interested in the money all along?

Sadly, there was no way of knowing what his motive had actually been…no way she would ever know.

But still there was one thing that needled and burned to the very core of her.

He had not taken
all
of the money when he so easily could have, and she argued with herself that it had to mean he harbored some concern for her…if only a little.

But the bitter side of her retaliated to ask what difference that made.

He had left her.

It was over.

She would never see him again.

She had to forget.

And if she thought of him at all, it had to be about how much she hated him.

Not how much she cared.

At last she drifted into weary slumber. She awoke to the first faint light of dawn as a sound came to her from far, far away.

A melodic sound.

Bright, brassy, and spirited.

The sound of a bugle.

But in her dreams, her weary, hope-depleted mind told her, only in her dreams…

Curt felt like somebody had slammed an anvil on his head and was jumping up and down on top of it.

He tried to swallow, but it was as though he had a tumbleweed jammed in his throat.

His stomach was on fire, threatening to erupt, and if the pain in his head didn’t let up, he feared his eyes were going to explode.

“Hey, get up,” a shrill voice spoke through the shroud of pain that held him captive. “You slept away your time, and I got other customers waiting.”

With great effort, Curt managed to open one eye.

The room was spinning, so he closed it.

“I said—
get up
.”

The voice was not going to go away.

Neither was the pounding in his head. At least not anytime soon. So there was nothing to do but grit his teeth against the misery and force his heavy lids to open.

The room continued whirling but gradually stopped.

And then he saw her.

She was sitting on the side of the bed. That was when he realized where he was—in bed.

The first thing he noticed was that she was naked. Second, he saw that she was pretty…in a hard, brittle sort of way.

His bloodshot eyes swept her breasts, which were plenty big and begged to be squeezed, with nipples waiting to be savored. No man in his right mind would fall asleep without first tasting every delectable tidbit her voluptuous body had to offer.

But he knew he hadn’t tasted.

Just as he knew he had not been in his right mind since deserting Tess Partridge.

He was also aware of where he was—the whorehouse over the saloon where he’d spent the previous evening downing one shot of whiskey after another while trying to win big money in a poker game. Only he had lost the game, and, from the way the little naked gal was looking at him, he’d lost favor in her eyes as well.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, tongue feeling thick and thorny as a cactus. “I’ll pay you extra for your trouble.”

“With what? I already looked in your trousers. You ain’t got no money, but you sure better find some.”

She reached for a red satin robe trimmed in feathers and wrapped it around her as she stood up. “You owe me double. I missed some business waiting for you to sleep it off.”

He was still wearing his trousers, and the pockets were turned inside out, which meant she was serious about having looked for money. However, he could clearly remember leaving the game with nearly a hundred dollars, enough to pay for his room at the cheap hotel where he had been staying since arriving in Dallas and have a small but ample stake for the next game.

He looked at the whore, remembered she had told him the night before her name was Irma, and could tell by the guilty shadow in her eyes that she had taken his money. Raising hell about him owing her was to keep him from being suspicious.