When a Texan Gambles (30 page)

“You wouldn’t live with me?”

“I thought that was what you wanted, Sarah, a home to call your own. You’d never have to worry about money, I have an account that will stand in the black for years.”

Sarah stared at this strange man. He was offering her everything she’d ever thought she’d wanted. A home. A place to belong. Why did it feel so empty?

“Why are you doing this, Sam?”

He rubbed his hands together. “When I saw you back in Cedar Point being raffled off, I thought maybe there was a woman who would consider being married to me. I’m not the best catch in Texas. Maybe she’d give me a place where I could have some peace. It seems like a fair bargain; I’d take care of you.”

“But you’d leave.”

“Not for always. I’d come back now and then, maybe for a night or two. Maybe longer if you needed me.”

Sarah sat her plate down and curled into the blanket. “We’d be like your friend Frank and his wife, Molly. We’d be married, but not married.”

Sam frowned. She made his plan sound like some half-baked idea. He’d given it a lot of thought. He made his living as a bounty hunter. He couldn’t just settle down and farm or ranch. He thought she would think living in a nice house would be far better than being in jail, but she looked at him as if he were offering her second prize.

He waited another hour before he joined her. The night air was so thick it stuck to his face. He finally lay down beside her and tried to offer his arm as a pillow, but she’d fallen asleep rolled into a ball beside her saddle. She hadn’t even asked him to kiss her good night.

The next morning she was up and had coffee on by the time he stretched, working the soreness of sleeping on the ground out of his muscles. He tried a few times to talk, but for once she didn’t have much to say. She didn’t seem mad at him. When Sarah was angry, he could usually tell as soon as he got within shouting distance. Maybe she was just tired, he decided. The road was no place for her.

They pulled on dusters he’d added at the last minute to their supplies and moved out into the rainy morning. With her big hat and duster collar pulled high, he could barely see her face. As the road turned to mud, she seemed content to follow and made no effort to ride at his side.

By mid-afternoon his mood was as bad as the weather. He pushed hard, knowing of an old stagecoach station that took in travelers for the night. He hadn’t used it in years, preferring to be alone even if the weather was poor. Sleeping in the rain always looked better than listening to others snore. The old station manager used to rent the rooms four to a bed. If you got in early, you went to sleep thinking you were the only one in the room, and by morning three others were sleeping next to you.

Sam had no idea what the arrangements were for women to stay. He guessed they also shared a room. Maybe if it wasn’t too crowded, Sam could talk the man into letting him sleep with his wife.

She nodded when he pointed to the outline of the station and followed him in.

As they neared, something didn’t feel right to Sam. The drizzle hampered his view, but he saw no activity. By the time they were to the far end of the corral, Sam realized the place was deserted. He pulled his mount back to Sarah. “At least we’ll be out of the rain.”

She agreed and he rode in first.

After looking around at the shell of a station, they decided the barn would be both cleaner and provide better shelter. Though the station house roof had burned, then caved in, the barn was in fair order. Hay had been stored in the back, probably by some farmer in the area.

While Sam took care of the horses, Sarah built a fire on the dirt floor where the roof was highest. It offered both warmth and light. She rummaged through the supplies, but found only beans, jerky, and peaches.

“Is this all you ever eat on the road?” she asked, holding up the cans.

“Pretty much.” Sam saw little point to the question, but at least they were talking.

“Let me guess, when I make your favorite pie, it will be peach.”

Sam smiled. “Apple. And while I think about it, promise never to serve me beans or jerky.”

They ate close to the fire, then Sam stood guard for a while, watching the rain. Out of the comer of his eye he watched her pull hay from the back and build a bed near the fire. The old barn was just drafty enough to allow the smoke from the fire to drift up, yet the heat warmed the comer.

It had been two days since he’d touched her, and the need to hold Sarah built in him. He watched as she undressed in the shadows and slowly washed from a bucket of rainwater. She couldn’t be dirty; they were both soaked to the bone despite their dusters. After pulling a nightgown from her bag, she slipped it on, then hung her wet clothes to dry.

When she slipped beneath her blanket, Sam decided he could wait no longer. He crossed to her. He pulled off his duster and Colts and put them within easy reach.

“Sarah,” he said, leaning down on one knee to touch her shoulder.

She looked up at him. “Good night, Sam.” She closed her eyes once more.

“No, wait a minute. I’m not ready to say good night.” He wiggled her shoulder again, wishing she’d ask him to kiss her and touch her. When she didn‘t, he added, “I need to talk to you about something.”

Sarah propped her head on her arm. “All right, Sam. What is it you want to talk about?”

He had to start somewhere. “Do you like the way I kiss you?”

She smiled. “You know I do, Sam. But I understand that married people can’t go around kissing all the time, so I try not to ask too often.”

“You don’t have to ask me to kiss you, Sarah. Just nuzzle up to me and I’ll get the hint.” He thought of mentioning how her gray mare had been acting around his horse, but he didn’t know if she would appreciate being compared to a horse. Besides, that wasn’t the direction he wanted this conversation to go.

Sarah’s arm folded into a pillow. “I’ll remember.” She snuggled back down in her covers.

He poked her shoulder again. “I wasn’t finished.”

With effort she propped her head up once more. “I’m sorry. I guess I was just thinking of sleep. It seemed like we rode for two days in the rain before stopping.”

Sam reconsidered his planned conversation. She was tired. But he didn’t know how many days they would have left together. “Do you like the way I touch you?”

“Yes, Sam,” she answered, looking more awake. “I never dreamed a man would ever touch me and make me feel the way you do.”

“And do you find me tolerable to be around? Tolerable to look at?”

“Yes, Sam.” She raised one eyebrow, suddenly interested in the conversation. “I find you more than tolerable.”

He smiled. “Well, I’ve been thinking that it’s about time for you to change your mind about our marriage being in name only. After all, we both know it’s a forever marriage, so you’re just putting off the inevitable.” He tried to read her face, but there were too many shadows. “You even said you wouldn’t mind having my child, and I don’t see how that’s going to happen unless we get a little friendlier.”

“I’ll think about it.” Sarah sat up and pulled her knees to her chin. “You said you’d wait until I was ready.”

“I did.” Sam nodded. “But I’m thinking you’re about ready.”

“No, Sam.” She lifted her chin. “I’m the one who says it’s the right time.”

“Well, I’m saying tonight is the right time.” His words came out harsher than he’d meant them to be. He’d thought if he brought the subject up, she’d go along. But she didn’t seem to want to talk about it, much less do anything. “Tonight seems like a good time to me.”

She stood, suddenly the ball of fire he’d seen before. “Sam Gatlin, you are not going to tell me when the right time is.”

“Well, maybe I should!” He climbed off the bedroll and paced a few steps before returning to meet her stare. “I’m your husband and I think I know.”

“You’re not forcing me into anything!”

“Hell, woman, it’s been you forcing me into stuff since the night we married. I’ve given in until I’m about up to here with giving in.” This wasn’t at all the way he planned it. He pointed toward the bedrolls. “Like I said the first night, get in that bed and get ready. It’s about time I won an argument in this marriage.”

She placed her fists on her hips, preparing for a fight. For a long time the only sound in the barn was the rain on the roof.

“No,” she said in little more than a whisper.

“You know what to expect, so this discussion is pointless. I say it’s time we started acting like we were married.”

He’d read once in a book that women like their men to be forceful, strong, but Sarah never read the same book. She glared at him as if he hadn’t already been the most patient man on this earth. He wasn’t asking her to do something she wouldn’t enjoy. He’d see to that. But after this night there would be no question of Sheriff Riley calling the whole thing off between them. After this night she’d be his wife in more than name.

She moved away from the bedrolls. “You’re not taking me by force.”

“Of course not!” Sam resented her even thinking such a thing. “And I don’t want you lying there all froze up. What I’m doing is changing your mind. I’m not going to bed you, Sarah; I’m going to make love to you the way a man makes love to his wife.”

“You’re breaking your word to me.”

“I am not. I’m just helping you decide to make up your mind. Now, get in bed.”

In an instant, faster than any gunfighter he’d ever seen, Sarah pulled one of his Colts from the holster hanging by his coat and fired.

TWENTY-FIVE

“SARAHI” SAM YELLED AS THE FIRST BULLET HIT THE dirt to his left. “Put down that gun!”

The second shot was a foot to his right.

“Stop ordering me around!” She lifted the Colt with both hands. “I’m not the same frightened girl you married. I’m not going to be bullied into anything, not even by a man I love.”

The third shot rattled somewhere against the barn wall behind Sam, but he swore it brushed his ear on the journey.

“Well, if you love me so much, why are you trying to kill me?” He took a step toward her.

She waved the barrel of the gun. “I can love the memory of you just as easily.”

A low thundering sound rattled through the barn, shaking the flimsy walls.

The storm had suddenly decided to come inside.

Sam glanced at the door as a horse broke through the curtain of rain and stomped across the wide barn floor.

The rider jerked on the reins, and the horse danced in a circle, spraying water in every direction. Before the horse had settled down, a rider in black jumped from the saddle and pulled his guns.

“Jacob?” Sarah said in a frightened whisper.

“I’m here, Sarah!” he yelled. “He’s not going to hurt you. I could hear you yelling even through the rain.”

“Dalton!” Sam raised his hands slowly. “Stay out of this.”

Jacob spit the words as he moved closer. “I told you once, Sam, I wouldn’t stand for you hurting her, even if she is your wife.”

“Dalton, I always knew you had mud for brains!” Sam shouted. “I’m not hurting her. She’s shooting at
me!”

The young Ranger looked confused as he glanced from Sarah to Sam. When he stared at Sam, his voice lowered only slightly. “What did you do to make her so mad?”

Suddenly it was all Sam’s fault. His wife planned to shoot him in cold blood, and it was all his doing.

“What makes you think I did anything?” Sam turned his anger to Jacob. “Besides, it’s none of your damn business.”

“So you’re just going to stand there and let her kill you?” Jacob holstered his weapon and folded his arms. “And you have the nerve to say
I
have mud for brains.”

“She’s not going to kill me. I’m in no danger. I’m standing right in front of her.”

Jacob shook his head and turned to Sarah. “Now, Sarah, you can’t go killing him, no matter how worthless a husband he is.”

Sarah’s Colt shifted to Jacob, and unlike Sam, he had trouble standing his ground. “Be careful about the way you talk about my husband, Ranger. I may have to shoot him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”

Sam laughed. The Ranger looked nervous. He was starting to get a grip on the problem he’d stepped into.

“Now, Sarah, love ...” Sam tried again.

“Don’t you ‘Sarah, love’ me, Sam Gatlin. Are you standing by your word or not?”

“Of course I’m standing by it. I never said I wasn’t.”

“Drop the gun, Sarah. Put it down slow,” the Ranger encouraged, but no one was listening.

“And you can stop bossing me around. I swear, Sam, you act like you’ve never been around a woman long enough to have a conversation.”

“That’s probably right,” Jacob said calmly, taking a step toward Sarah. “Go ahead and shoot him, Sarah. I’m sure whatever he did, he deserves to die.”

“Shut up, Dalton!” Sam snapped. “What kind of help is that?”