Twilight in Texas (30 page)

Early never moved. Maybe she was too near death to fight anymore. Maybe she could hear Charlie fighting with words harder than he’d ever fought in his life.

A few times, Molly heard Wolf shouting orders just outside the window, but the thunder rattled the panes as if echoing his rage.

Washburn’s assistant reported the ranger named Josh had two broken ribs, several cuts and bruises, but he had already insisted on returning to duty. The assistant said, short of hitting the man again, he couldn’t think of any way to stop him.

Molly’s fingers seemed slippery and clumsy, but Washburn’s were no better. About the time they had Early sewn up, two doctors appeared from the state hospital. They were older and experienced. Their eyes showed no sign of shock at the amount of blood flowing across the table.

“Fine job,” one man said. “I couldn’t have done better myself.” His hair and beard were white, and he reminded Molly of her father.

The other doctor slowly pulled the rag from Charlie’s head. “This man almost bled to death waiting.”

Charlie’s eyes were closed, and Molly wasn’t sure how long ago he had quit talking.

Both doctors removed their coats and rolled up their sleeves. The white-haired one looked straight at Molly as if sizing her up. “You finish with the woman,” he said as more a question than a statement. “We’ll take care of her man.”

Molly started to correct him. Charlie wasn’t Miss Early’s man. But then she glanced at the center of the table where their blood had mixed. Charlie’s hand held Miss Early’s tightly. If either knocked on death’s door this night, Molly knew they’d walk in together.

W
OLF WATCHED
M
OLLY WORK AND FELT A GREAT
pride growing inside him. How many times had she told him she didn’t want to be a doctor? How many times would she prove herself wrong before she accepted the truth? From the very beginning, he’d seen the intelligence in her green eyes and the caring in her touch. Maybe that was what made him love her at first sight at the train station all those years ago. Maybe that was part of what made him love her now.

She reminded him of a newborn, tasting life for the first time, taking both the good and the bad with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Handling it all in stride. And for some reason, she’d decided she wanted him. Molly didn’t know yet that he was already hers and always had been.

He longed to talk to her, but there was no time. She had her job, and he had his. Only, the storm was making his hell right now. He had men on every outbound trail wide enough for a horse to travel. They worked in pairs, so one man could report back every few hours. They’d seen nothing. The town’s law enforcement combed Austin, looking for places where the Diggers might hide with a child. Nothing. The gang appeared to have left Molly’s house with a screaming captive and completely vanished.

“Captain?” The white-haired doctor held up his bloodstained hands as he approached Wolf. “We’re doing what we can for the little fellow. Someone said a ranger was down.
He’s
not a ranger, is he?”

“Yes,” Wolf answered without hesitation.

The man Washburn called Doc Harley nodded. “We’re finding bone fragments that need to be removed.”

“He was shot three times during the war,” Wolf announced.

Harley shook his head. “He must have been very young at the time, because the skull has grown back. I think we can help him out a little and relieve some of his pain. Whoever patched him up during the war did a lousy job. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone mad from the agony he’s endured.”

“Do what you can.” Wolf had never thought much about Charlie’s age. With his deformed face and crippled legs, he’d seemed old, but Wolf hadn’t taken the time to look closely. “How’s the woman?” Wolf asked before the doctor turned away.

“She’s alive, that’s about all I can say. The lady doc is doing a grand job, but it will be hours, maybe days, before we’ll know. For every breath that woman takes she’s one breath closer to making it.”

Wolf thanked the man and moved away. As he stepped onto the porch, he filled his lungs with damp air to remove the smell of blood. For a moment, he stood watching the sky. The storm wasn’t letting up. They would be tracking in mud. He stepped into the downpour, unaware of his own discomfort. Josh said he’d heard Callie Ann screaming that her Wolf was going to get all the mean men.

If she were his little princess, he guessed that made him her knight. He planned to search until he found her. And she was right, he would get those men who took her.

He rode until midnight, following every hint of a lead. He changed horses every few hours, unwilling to push an animal the way he pushed himself. Several folks came forward reporting that they’d seen men with a tiny blond girl. If they were right, the good news was Callie Ann was alive and yelling. The bad news, all the trails had disappeared.

Wolf spoke to the undertaker, Miller, twice. The man was too nervous not to know something, but he wasn’t talking. Callie Ann had told Wolf about seeing Miller take the extra drugstore key the day before the fire. Wolf planned to keep a close eye on Miller, guessing he’d eventually lead Wolf to some kind of crime. That it would be the Digger boys was little more than a hunch Wolf had.

As if to add to his problems, the rain continued, finally driving him back home. There was nothing to do but get a few hours’ sleep and start again at first light. The storm prevented him from recognizing his own men five feet away. The brothers were holed up somewhere and would crawl out when the storm passed.

Wolf took care of his horse then walked the few blocks to Molly’s house through streets that were now rivers. Her place shone like a beacon in the rain. Every room downstairs was fully lit while all other homes around Molly’s slept.

When he stepped onto the porch, he pulled off his hat, slinging water in every direction. Wolf hesitated, not wanting to face Molly and tell her they hadn’t found Callie Ann. He’d promised to protect them, but in the end, Early might already be dead and Callie Ann was kidnapped.

Finally, Wolf opened the door. Frank Washburn sat on the stairs, cradling a mug of coffee in his hands. “Evening, Captain,” he mumbled. “Any luck?”

Wolf shook his head. “How about you?”

Washburn shrugged. “Well, they’re both still alive. We moved them up to the child’s room, where there were two beds. A nurse is sitting with them in case there’s a change. Old Doc Harley is in the parlor snoring. He told the nurse to wake him if she needed him.” The young doctor took a long breath. “Right now, it looks like Miss Early and Charlie Filmore are in a race to the grave.”

Wolf pulled off his rain slicker and hung it on a peg by the door.

The doctor stood slowly. “I’m building my courage to step into the rain and head home. There’s nothing more to do here.” Frank Washburn had aged years in one day.

“Captain?”

“Yes?” Wolf waited.

“You were in the war, right?”

“Right.”

“What we went through today, was it anything like how the field hospitals operated?”

The captain smiled. The war had only been over for four years, and it was already starting to be stories, not memories. “It was worse, Frank, far worse.”

The young doctor nodded. “I was afraid of that.”

“Where’s my wife?”

“Last time I saw her, she was headed toward the back porch with a bar of soap and a towel. She said she was going to wash up in the rain.”

Wolf offered the doctor his slicker before saying good night and heading into the kitchen. Food lined the counters, making Wolf grin. It was the Southern way, he thought. Whenever there was trouble, folks brought food.

As he stepped onto the back porch, Molly’s outline blinked in the lightning. She’d removed her
blouse and was scrubbing her arms with soap then leaning into a waterfall of rain cascading off the roof. Her hair hung in wet curls down her back, and her camisole clung to her like a second skin.

He watched her lean into the rain three times before he realized she wasn’t planning on stopping. Slowly, he moved behind her.

When she felt him at her back, she jolted, then relaxed into his arms.

Wolf took the soap from her hand and set it aside. Then he stretched her hands into the rain, moving his over them to wash away the last of the lye. As he folded Molly into his embrace, Wolf realized she was soaked to the bone.

For a while, he held her without saying a word, loving the way she felt against him, needing the home of her arms to retreat to, if only for a little while.

There were no games or rules between them now. The horror of what they’d both been through today had washed all that away. He needed her, and he knew she needed him just as desperately. In the world of his arms lay the only peace either of them would know this night.

Without a word, he lifted her and carried her inside. She leaned her head against his shoulder as he moved carefully up the stairs. They passed Callie Ann’s room. Charlie, his head and face a mass of bandages, lay on one bed, Early on the other. The nurse sitting between them smiled up at Wolf as he slowly walked by. She nodded that all was quiet.

Wolf closed the bedroom door and gently stood Molly in front of the fireplace. She didn’t move as he lit the wood. The painted tiles flickered to life as they reflected the flames in warm welcome. He pulled several towels from the stack by the washstand and returned to her side without lighting any lamps. He undressed her by the firelight.

Molly watched him closely as his awkward fingers worked the buttons at her waist. Her skirt tumbled to the floor. There was no need for her to ask about Callie Ann. If anything had changed, he would have told her. Even in the dim light, she could see the exhaustion and sorrow in his eyes.

His big hands calmed her as they moved over her body, pulling layers of clothing away. Her emotions were raw, brittle to the point of breaking. He handled her with great care, as though he knew how near the edge she walked.

When she was fully nude before him, he knelt and began drying her with a towel. She moved when he directed. The warmth of the towel soothed over her, along with the warmth of his hands. He dried and caressed every part of her until, finally, he stood and moved his fingers into her hair. Gently, Wolf leaned her back, bracing her with his arm so her hair fell free in the warm air drifting from the fire. He swayed gently in a slow rhythm while her hair dried.

When he finished, he wrapped her with one of Aunt Alvina’s handmade quilts and sat her close to the fire while he undressed.

Wolf unbuckled his gun belt slowly, as if with the weapon went the weight of his job. When he hung the Colts over the bedpost, she knew his responsibilities were never far away. She’d expected him to stop before he removed his trousers, but he didn’t. As if he were unaware that she watched, he removed all his clothes and dried before the fire.

The flickering firelight reflected off his body, the powerful muscles, the slim planes, the scars. Lightning flashed across the windows. Like a wild animal in his prime, he was frightening and beautiful.

When he finally turned back to her, Wolf raked his hands over his damp hair and closed the distance between them.

Pulling her to her feet, he let the quilt fall away and drew her to him.

The completeness of holding him engulfed her senses. She could feel not only their skin touching, but their very hearts. Raising her arms, she melted into him, keeping nothing back from this man who’d
somehow become a part of her.

For a long while, they held one another. All that she breathed was him. All that she felt was him. The sound of his heart pounding was the only sound in the world. No dream could ever touch this reality.

After a while, she became aware of his hands moving over her, the action so natural she couldn’t have said when it began. His gentle touch spread across her hips and moved up her back and sides.

Molly leaned back, knowing his arm would hold her. Closing her eyes, she let the warmth of his hands flow over her. He caressed her so gently, so completely.

When she straightened, she rested against the solid wall of his chest, feeling as if she’d come home. He didn’t kiss her, though they were near enough to feel one another’s breath. He pushed her hair away from her shoulder and lowered his face against her throat, breathing in her scent as if it were more vital than air.

Molly felt his mouth open over her flesh, and she tilted her head to offer him all he wanted of the taste of her. The pleasure of the tip of his tongue sliding over her neck made her weak with need. She would have fallen if he hadn’t held her to him. Finally, when she was lost in warm sensations flowing like wine through her veins, he raised his head.

His brown eyes smoldered with desire and a need so great it took her breath away. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the bed. With gentle hands, he lowered her onto her stomach.

She’d expected him to stretch out beside her, but he vanished. For a moment, she panicked, thinking what she’d just experienced had been a dream, thinking she’d have to give this heaven up for reality.

Then he was back, standing beside the bed with the powder she’d used the night he’d seen her undress. Without a word, he shook some in his hand and began slowly smoothing it into her skin. His callused hands stroked from her shoulder to her knee, smoothing the powder into her flesh. Relaxing tired muscles along with broken dreams with his gentle caress.