The Trailrider's Fortune (23 page)

"Seventeen and
an outlaw," Sparkle repeated slowly. "I was fifteen and a saloon
girl."

"My uncle had
been a lawbreaker before the war. Even when he came back, for a short time.
Don't reckon folks realized they'd voted in the same Tom Wilmont that had
ridden with Micah Slade down in Texas."

"
Micah
Slade
?" The missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place in
Sparkle's mind. Violence in their pasts. Families torn asunder.

Micah Slade.
Both of our lives forever altered, tainted by a man neither of us ever knew.

She mentally shook
herself. "I'm not sure I'll be up to traveling tomorrow. Since it's not
costing anything for the room, could we stay another day or so?"

Rafe stood up,
flexing his right knee. "You made a big point of tellin' me how you hate
this town."

"I know, but
I'm not ready to face my brother. I can wire money to his nurse, but I have to
figure out some reason to give Jace as to why I left Wichita. I certainly can't
say I lost my job because I was abducted."

"Wire the
nurse that you're comin' home. We'll stay until you're well enough to make the
train trip. I'll send Snatch with Sam out to Big Bow. Ain't never set foot on a
stage. Ain't sure a train's much better. Notion of bein' cooped up for hours in
any movin' contraption doesn't appeal to me, but you ain't goin' alone. And you
ain't goin' back to saloons, so don't bother chewin' on that."

Something had
changed. For everything Rafe said, there was something left unsaid. A vague unease
had been building during their meal. "Rafe, are you upset with me for some
reason? If it's that silly business of that card parlor in San Francisco, I—"

"Heard about
that."

He sounds jealous
again. The night Slocumb was killed, Rafe had been jealous and they'd argued,
she now recalled. "It was nothing."

They left the
restaurant. He noticed the rain stopped and closed the umbrella. "It's all
nothin', ain't it?"

"What? Will
you wait a minute?" He didn't. He purposely strode away, leaving her
gaping at him in confusion. "Rafe?"

He stopped on the
saloon's broad porch and spun back to face her. "I said it's all nothin'.
Here with me, Frisco with some stranger who owns a card parlor, or San Antone
with somebody else. Wouldn't make any difference. You're pretty. You'll always
get offers from fellas lookin' to take care of you. Won't let me take care of
you, will you? You should stay home with your brother."

She caught up,
fighting to catch her breath. "I don't understand. If you're asking will I
let you
keep me
…" He shrugged and her spirits sank. "I can't
let you pay for my brother's care and our expenses. The answer's no, Rafe. The
man going to the Barbary Coast wasn't talking about that kind of
relationship."

"I'll just
bet."

"Never mind.
I'll talk to Frazer and make him—"

"He told the
law you're not allowed back, no matter what. Wants nothin' more to do with
either of us. Reckon if I pass through Wichita again, I'll do my drinkin' over
at Sadie's or another tavern."

"How often do
you 'pass through' Kansas City?" She planted her fists on her hips.

"Been there
once before."

"So why go
now? Are you looking to clear your conscience? See me home, cough up some cash,
pat yourself on the back. Make a noble gesture, then continue hunting criminals
and Hoffman as if nothing happened. Pretend my kidnapping and this horror with
Slocumb never took place."

"Pretend?"
he repeated, glaring at her. "While I'm at it, I guess I'll pretend I
never made love to a goddamned virgin nine ways to Sunday, only to have her
confess she's in love with someone else! I'll pretend that didn't hurt my
feelin's none. What the hell? I been pretendin' I'm married to the woman for
months. I'm gettin' so good at all this
pretendin
', don't know myself
what's real anymore."

"Rafe, if you—"

Tolover burst
through the batwing doors with another man behind him. Both were armed with
shotguns. "Praise be, you're back. Earp came by. Trouble down at the
Staghorn. Boys from two rival outfits been drinkin' heavily and it's turned
nasty. He asked for back up. Figures you owe him."

Sparkle's heart
caught in her chest. "Rafe, no."

Rafe plowed through
the swinging doors, ignoring her huffing up the staircase behind him. She
entered the panel crib to find him fastening his holster around his hips.
"Rafe, don't do this."

"Stay
here," he ordered. "I'll be back as quick as I can. We ain't settled
our hash yet."

"
Rafe
."
She practically threw herself in front of him, blocking the doorway.

His hard expression
softened as her arms slid around his waist. "Darlin', I'm just goin' for
threat value, like the mornin' I got Frazer to take you back. This will likely
blow over without a shot. But I got to lend a hand here."

"Damn you, you
do
not
. Don't you come back with another chunk missing someplace, Rafe
Conley," she warned, her eyes filling as she moved aside. "I'm not
going to cry over you or nurse you this time. I'll go home alone to Kansas
City. I don't need you. I'm not going to cry over you again, do you hear
me?" she sobbed brokenly.

"Yeah, but I
got to go anyhow." He pulled off his bandanna and pressed it into her
fingers. Then, with a chaste peck on her forehead, he was gone.

She was still awake
when he reappeared hours later. "Hey," he nodded as he entered the
panel crib. The wall sconces glowed. She was seated cross-legged on the big
mattress wearing one of his shirts over a pair of pantalets. Tarot cards formed
a cross in front of her. She dropped her gaze back to the colorful painted
surfaces.

"Your own
future? Thought you didn't do that," he observed.

"Once in a
while I do." She offered a casual shrug. "It helps pass the time
while I'm waiting to hear if someone I care about has been hurt or
killed."

"Who?"

She put away the
cards. Rafe undressed and doused the sconces. It was pitch dark and he was
suddenly beside her, unbuttoning the shirt to peel it away from her torso. He
reverently kissed the tip of one breast. "Asked who you care about."

"You, you
stubborn blockhead."

"Do those
cards tell you how much I love you?" The words were whispered in the
darkness. "I do, Sparkle."

"And you prove
it by making me sick with worry?" There was a sharp edge to her voice, but
she couldn't help it. He'd left her to imagine the worst. Tonight her
imagination had been working overtime.

His soft chuckle
melted her insides. "You might've been worried, but you ain't sick. You
feel fine," he noted, pulling her bare torso against his own. "So
fine I can't help wantin' you, though I know I shouldn't, it bein' your time
and all. Sparkle…" His lips met hers in a tender kiss that took her breath
away. He held her tightly, kissing her gently.

"Mmm?"
came her answering languid sigh when she finally got her mouth free.

"I had a turn
frettin' over you too," he reminded. "Twice. Bloodshed's never
affected me, even when a fair amount of it's my own. But both times I saw you
bleedin', the sight turned my bones to jelly. Sooner shoot myself than see
anything happen to you."

She pressed her
lips to his throat, feeling the strong pulse, drinking in his musky scent.
"Now you know how I felt when you went out. Why is everything between us
wrong
suddenly, Rafe? I've never been involved with anyone. Is this disquiet part of
it?"

He stiffened.
"Between us there's somebody else, remember? At least that's what you
said." His voice was raw. "Just tell me whoever the fella is, he
ain't married. It tears me up inside, thinkin' of you wastin' your life over
some married fella. You need to be a wife and mother some day."

"He's not
married. I don't want to talk about him. Please, let's—"

"Thought about
this ever since the other night. May regret it, but I got to try. I want you to
become my wife for real. Don't know if he's married or not, but I ain't. I
think we should get hitched for a fact." There was a frozen silence.
"You hear that, LaFleur?"

"Yes. I'm just
not certain I believe it."

"You don't
think I mean it? Is that why you're cryin'?" His fingers brushed her damp
cheek.

She shook her head.
Sideways, then up and down. "I don't know. We've only been together a
short time, and too much has happened. I'm not sure either of us can think
straight."

Rafe's voice was
husky, seductive. "Don't see it as a matter of thinkin'. Comes down to
what you feel. One of us two fellas ought to be your husband. You want me or
him?"

"Oh, I didn't
expect you to ask this. I don't know, everything's such a mess right now."
Her voice broke over a sob. "I need time to think…assess my feelings. I
know you're not very…patient. Well, maybe when it comes to tracking Hoffman,
but not with me. I'm terrified I'll lose you."

"Are
you?" His arms wrapped her in warmth. "Well, that says somethin',
right there. So it's okay, you ponder on it."

He held her until
her sobs quieted. She lay in the circle of his arms and the Dodge City
darkness, oddly comforted by the very town she'd feared. It had become a dark haven,
a place where she had no "proper" expectations to meet, no demanding
boss, no women like Majesta judging her for lying half naked beside a man who
loved her at her worst.

Rafe did, Sparkle
realized. Crying, shouting, nervous, even having her monthlies…But he was still
everything she shouldn't want. Tonight had been a vivid reminder. He still took
chances, still went in search of lethal trouble, and someday might find that
horrible, final bullet.

"You know what
I can offer," he murmured against her hair. "I'll allow it don't seem
like much. That city fella back home is probably a hundred things I'll never
be, even if you gave me a dozen years to work on 'em. I don't talk fancy, don't
own a suit."

"Go to
sleep," she hushed. "I'm tired. I don't want to talk about this
now."

"Not
yet," he insisted. "All I got are calluses on my thumb, my horse,
some money in the bank, and the Continental Divide across my chest here. But
whatever else he can give you, it can't be more respect than I got for you. And
no man alive could have more love. Used to say anything's possible, but not
that, Sparkle."

Snatch was tied
behind Samson's palomino. Rafe handed Sam a wad of bills, then shook hands with
him and Driscoll as they mounted up. Sparkle watched the men ride off, her
heart a knot in her chest.

She'd decided
against wiring Majesta. There was no point, when she'd arrive in Kansas City in
a day or so. She'd pay Majesta and tell Jace she'd lost her teaching position.
Majesta wouldn't have written to her at the Scarlet Lady so soon, anyway,
Sparkle had rationalized the night before. She'd lain awake long after Rafe had
fallen asleep, reflecting on her options.

That's when she
realized Majesta and Jace likely knew nothing of her disappearance or that
anything unusual had taken place. After all, she'd just returned from a visit
home when Rafe had been shot outside the livery stable. It seemed a lifetime
ago…their terse walk back to the saloon, the fight in the monkey hall, sitting
on Rafe's lap and listening to him explain why he'd been shot. Letting him make
love to her for the first time. The kidnapping, coming here to Dodge.

In actuality, less
than a month had passed since she boarded the train in Kansas City to return to
Wichita. Less than a month…but in that time, Sparkle's whole word had changed.

Rafe was right;
she'd have to choose. This time it wasn't just a matter of packing up and
wandering to the next cattle town. She had to decide where her future lay,
which man would share her life. It might have been simple, had Jace been whole
or had his memory come back. It might have been simple if Sparkle hadn't come
to love both men. That was another dark revelation from the wee hours of the
morning.

She loved Jace; she
loved Rafe. Equally. Unexpectedly.

With Jace her love
was sweet, solid. Reliably deep and abiding. Warm and reassuring. Forged over
years, unwavering as his dependence upon her.

With Rafe it was
dark, sudden, mysteriously powerful. Throbbing, pulsating with promise.
Forbidden. Mindlessly pleasurable. Unwavering as her need for him. She felt
complete only when he was near, when she could reach out and touch him. Fill up
with his scent, taste him.

I may never know
passion this strong again. I may never be this woman who can give herself so
freely ever again. It may be only here, in the godforsaken, wicked place…Whatever
its source and power, I can't let go yet…I can't stop loving Rafe yet.

She'd used a
portion of her thousand dollars to buy a satchel and some proper garments.
She'd wanted to leave the garish evening dresses behind for the next female who
happened into the Bold Adventuress, but Rafe had insisted she pack the cream
silk with the turquoise beads matching her eyes. "I'm real partial to that
dress," he'd announced. "Want you to marry me wearin' it."