Only Mine

8

Uncertainly, Jessica stood in front of one of themercantile’s many counters. She was accustomed to having bolts of cloth and seamstresses brought to Lord Stewart’s home, or perhaps she would visit an especially popular dress designer in her shop. The idea of buying clothes already made both intrigued Jessica for its speedy practicality and baffled her as to how to go about it.

«Mrs.Lonetree? Is that you?»

The deep, gentle drawl told Jessica who the man was before she turned around. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure at the sight of the big blond man with his hat in his hands and a smile on his face.

«Rafe! What a wonderful surprise. What are you doing in Canyon City? Is your arm all right?»

He flexed his left shoulder. «It’s a bit stiff and itches like the very devil, but otherwise everything is fine. I’ve never healed so fast. Must have been your hands and the fancy silk bandage.»

«And soap.»

«And soap,» Rafe agreed with a wink.

«What are you doing in Canyon City?» Jessica asked again without thinking. Then she remembered. «Oh dear, I’m sorry. That was rude of me. It’s the one thing Betsy didn’t tell me about the United States.»

Rafe’ssun-bleached eyebrows lifted. «Betsy?»

«My American maid. At least she was, until we got to the Mississippi. She taught me many of your customs, but not the most important Western one.»

«Maybe you’d better tell me about that one. I’m new to the West.»

Jessica gave a sigh of relief. «Oh, good, then I didn’t insult you by asking you why you’re here. Wolfe was quite clear about that. One never asks a Western man for a full name, an occupation, or a reason for coming or going as he pleases.»

«Australia is like that, too,» Rafe said, smiling, «so is a lot of South America.»

«England isn’t, except for certain people, of course.»

«Criminals?» he asked blandly.

«Oh, dear, Idid insult you.»

Rafe’slaughter was instant and unrestrained. «No, ma’am, but you’re a delight to tease.»

If another man had said it, Jessica would have withdrawn with the cool hauteur that had been taught her by Lady Victoria. It was impossible to do that withRafe, however, and unnecessary as well. His eyes were admiring without being in the least impolite.

«I don’t mind talking about what I’m doing here,» Rafe said. «I was waiting for the pass to open again. I got here just before the last storm closed it.»

«Then you’ve been here long enough to see the town. Wolfe said we wouldn’t be staying long.»

«Smart man, your husband. Too many drifters are holed up here, gambling and waiting for the passes to open.»

«If what Wolfe says is true, they won’t have long to wait.»

«Folks tell me WolfeLonetree knows the mountains between here and the San Juan country like the back of his hand,» Rafe said.

«It wouldn’t surprise me. Wolfe has always loved wild places. From what I’ve heard, the mountains out there are about as wild as anything on earth.»

For a momentRafe looked through themercantile’s dusty windows, but it was other mountains he saw, other wild places. Then his gray eyes focused and he turned back to the delicate girl whose light blue eyes held more shadows that they should.

«Are you here for supplies?» Rafe asked.

«After a fashion. Wolfe is buying something he calls ‘Montana horses.’ They’re large, I gather. Big enough to stand up to the snow drifts we might find in the passes.»

Rafe’sgray eyes widened, then narrowed with concern. «What lies west of here has the look of hard country, Mrs.Lonetree. Too hard for a girl like you.»

«Have you ever been to Scotland?» Jessica asked rather grimly.

He shook his head.

«Go there sometime in the winter,» she said, «when the gale winds scream down from the Arctic Circle. Then you’ll see waves higher than a mounted man break against black rock cliffs that are wrapped in ice. That’s when sheep with wool thicker than your arm freeze upright in the lee of solid stone fences. Men freeze much more quickly.»

«You were born there,» Rafe said, for there was no mistaking the dark memories drawing Jessica’s face taut.

«Yes.»

«Even so, ma’am, you’re looking hard used at the moment. I hope your husband’s wrong about the passes opening soon. You could use a few nights of sleep.»

Jessica smiled reassuringly, though she knew she would sleep no better in the coming night than she had any night since the terrible argument with Wolfe.

He had not relented one bit. No matter how hard she tried to be a good companion, he still treated her as an enemy, or worse, as a traitor who had betrayed him.

«My husband assures me the passes are open,» Jessica said.

«Has he talked to one of the gold hunters?»

«No. He watched the peaks all the way from his — our — home. When the new snow melted back up the slopes so quickly, he said the pass would be open by the time we were ready to leave Canyon City.»

«He’s certain?»

Jessica slantedRafe an odd glance. «You met Wolfe. Did he strike you as an indecisive sort?» Shaking his head, Rafe laughed, remembering the uncanny precision of Wolfe’s rifle work, men falling like dropped cards, one after another, with no break in the relentless rhythm of Wolfe’s shots.

«No, ma’am. That’s one hard man you married.»

Jessica’s smile thinned and turned upside down.

«Don’t take me wrong,» Rafe continued. «I meant no insult. In wild country, a hard man is the best kind, whether it be for a husband, a brother, or a friend.»

Rafe looked out the window again. The group of men who had been lounging in front of one of the three saloons on the main street had drifted over to the wagon, where a sidesaddle was perched on top of a sack of grain.

«Ma’am, is your husband in the saloon?»

«No. He has a rather low opinion of the local whiskey.»

«Smart man. Matt had almost as many warnings about Taos lightning as he did about theUtes.»

«Matt?»

«Matthew Moran.» When Jessica looked thoughtful, Rafe added, «Maybe you’ve heard the name?»

«I’m not sure.»

«How about Caleb Black? His friends call him Cal.»

«Ah, yes,» Jessica said with soft bitterness, «that name I’ve heard. The blasted paragon.»

«I wouldn’t know,» Rafe said, amused. «I’ve never met the man.»

«Not Caleb. His wife. She’s a paragon, Wolfe assures me.»

«Must be the wrong Caleb Black, then. Willy was a lot of things, but a paragon wasn’t among them.»

«Willy?»

«Willow Moran. At least, she used to be a Moran. Now she’s Willow Black.»

Jessica’s mouth curved into a rueful smile. «PoorRafe. You’ve had a long stage ride and a bullet wound for nothing. The paragon is already wed.»

«It’s not what you think.»Rafe settled his battered hat onto his head with a tug. «Willy is my sister.»

«Uh-oh.» Jessica flushed. «I’m sorry. I meant no insult to her. That is, I — oh, blazes, when will I learn to bridle my galloping tongue?»

«Don’t worry,» Rafe said kindly. «Willy would laugh as hard as anyone at the thought of being a paragon. She’s as sassy as they come. But, Lord, can that girl cook. I’d go halfway around the world for some of her biscuits.» He grinned. «In fact, I did.»

«It appears thepara — er, your sister-and I have something in common.»

«Biscuits?»

«In a manner of speaking. Wolfe has traveled half the earth and talked of little else but my biscuits in comparison to Willow’s.»

Rafe’sgray eyes lit with inner laughter. «Don’t feel bad about your own cooking, ma’am. Bride’s biscuits are famous the world over.»

«Mine are infamous. EvenMessr. Skunk turned up his pointy black nose at them.»

Rafetried not to show his amusement, but the thought of a skunk passing up food was too much. He threw back his head and laughed.

Jessica smiled up at him with real pleasure. It was good to hear a man’s laughter and know there was one soul in the West who enjoyed her company. Then her smile faded as she remembered how she once had been able to amuse Wolfe. Once, but no longer. Now all he wanted from her was the sight of her back as she walked out of his life.

«Don’t look so down, Red — er, Mrs.Lonetree,» Rafe corrected quickly.

«Please call me Red,» she said, sighing, «or Jessica orJessi or whatever suits.»

«Thank you.»

«No thanks are necessary. If no one out here wants his family name known, it stands to reason nicknames and Christian names would be used instead. One must, after all, call others something.»

Rafe’ssmiled faded as he looked out the window. A familiar tension stole through his body. He had spent enough time in rough places with rougher men to know that trouble was afoot.

The men standing around theLonetree wagon were part of the crowds of drifters, outlaws, and prospectors who had gathered in Canyon City to await the opening of the passes. Lust for gold ran through the men, but there was nothing they could do about that lust for the moment. So they talked about women waiting for them with white thighs spread, and they drank, and they bullied people less coarse than themselves.

The crowd outside had been getting rowdier with each drink from the bottle that was being passed around. WhenRafe had passed them on the way to the store, he had heard their speculations on the subject of fancy foreign ladies, and if they had a special way of riding their men as well as riding their horses.Rafe doubted that the men’s thoughts had become loftier with each passage of the bottle.

«Mrs.Lonetree —»

«That’s too formal,» she insisted softly.

Rafelooked away from the window. «All right, Red. Don’t go back to the wagon unless your husband is with you.»

«Why?»

«The men out there are drunk. They aren’t used to decent women.»

«I see.» Jessica sighed. «I have a few more purchases to make, in any case.»

Silently, Rafe accompanied her down the counters loaded with dry goods.

«Perhaps you could help me,» she said after a few moments. «I’ve never bought clothes already made. Does this look the right size?»

Rafestared in disbelief at the Levis she was holding up.

«Ma’am, I doubt that your husband could get one of his arms in those, much less a leg.»

She smiled. «I was thinking of myself, not Wolfe.»

Rafemade an odd sound as he measured the size of the denims and the delicate girl whose quality shone through her travel-rumpled clothes.

«That cloth is much too harsh for someone like you,» he said simply.

Jessica slantedRafe a sideways look and saw that he wasn’t teasing. He truly thought she was as delicate as she looked.

«You would be amazed at how sturdy I really am,» she said mildly.

After shaking out the Levis, Jessica held them against her waist. The legs fell to the floor and beyond.

«Blast.»

She put back the Levis and rummaged for yet smaller ones. In time she found a pair that had been cut for a boy rather than a man. She held them up. She suspected they would be too loose in the waist and frankly snug in the hips. On the other hand, they were the smallest Levis she had yet found.

«Would you hold these for me?» she asked, handing over the Levis toRafe.

He accepted them without a word and watched with increasing amusement while Jessica rummaged among the shirts for one that might possibly be small enough. He was still smiling indulgently when he sensed a presence behind his back. He turned around and saw WolfeLonetree standing there, measuring him for a shroud.

«Rafe, what do you think of — oh, good, you’re back,» Jessica said, holding out a shirt to Wolfe. «What do you think of this?»

«Too small by half.»

The clipped tones of Wolfe’s voice brought Jessica’s head up. She looked at him and sensed the anger that blazed just beneath his impassive surface.

«I rather thought it was too large,» she muttered, measuring her arm against the sleeve.

Abruptly, Wolfe realized that Jessica was buying clothes for herself. «Your ladyship, we already have enough clothes for two packhorses. In any case, I won’t have you parading your limbs like a saloon girl throughout the West.»

He took the Levis fromRafe and tossed them onto a table before he turned back to Jessica.

«Did you manage to purchase the dry goods on the list?» he asked.

«Yes,» she said.

Despite the red flags on Jessica’s cheekbones, her voice was civilized. Wolfe didn’t take the hint.

«Will wonders never cease.» Wolfe took the shirt from Jessica and threw it after the Levis.

Her eyes narrowed into ice-blue slits as she measured the grim lines on Wolfe’s face.

«I’ll bring the horses from the stable,» he said flatly. «By then you should have managed to get back to the wagon. The storekeeper’s boy will help you carry everything.»

With a black glance atRafe, Wolfe turned and strode out of the store.

Rafelet out a long, silent breath. Seeing Jessica’s husband in his dark, well-worn trail clothes instead of city fashions had convincedRafe that WolfeLonetree was indeed thehalfbreed who was reputed to know the mountains so well. That samehalfbreed was also reputed to be the best rifle shot west of the Mississippi and a warrior to the steel marrow of his bones.

Rumor hadn’t mentioned that Wolfe was fiercely possessive of his wife, butRafe would be happy to pass the word along to the next poor fool who innocently warmed himself at the hearth of Jessica’s smile.

«Ma’am,» Rafe said, tipping his hat. «It’s been a pleasure.»

«Don’t feel you must rush off. Wolfe isn’t as fierce as he sometimes looks.»

Rafesmiled thinly. «I believe you’re right. He’s easily twice as fierce. He’s also damned, er, darned protective of you. Not that I blame him. If I had anything even a fraction as valuable as your smile, I’d be real careful of it, too.»

Jessica’s smile flashed, then faded. AsRafe turned to leave, she said softly, «God speed, Rafael Moran.»

She gave the name its fluid Spanish pronunciation, lending the elegance of music to the syllables.Rafe turned back, struck by hearing his name spoken so beautifully.

«How did you know my full name was Rafael?»

«It suits you.» Impulsively, Jessica touchedRafe’s sleeve. «Do take care of yourself. Gentlemen are uncommon anywhere in the world.»

«I’m not all that gentle, ma’am. But thank you. You stay close to your husband. Real close. This town has an ugly feel to it right now. Reminds me of Singapore, which is to say it reminds this sinner of Hell.»

Rafetipped his hat again and withdrew to the end of the store where harness was displayed. He reached for a long, coiled bullwhip. With smooth, almost invisible motions of his left wrist, he tested the whip’s balance and flexibility. Twenty-five feet of supple leather writhed as though alive beneath his skilled hand.

With a sigh at having lost a pleasant companion, Jessica turned away. She gave a longing glance to the Levis and shirt that Wolfe had discarded, but made no effort to retrieve them. She was still shocked by the primitive masculine possessiveness he had shown. She wanted to tell Wolfe that he needn’t be jealous ofRafe; she would rather have a single kind look from Wolfe than a week of kindness from Rafael Moran.

On the other hand, a bit of kindness from a stranger was better than no kindness at all.

Jessica went back to the dry-goods counter, found that Wolfe had paid for the purchases, and waited for the lanky teenage boy to gather up all the packages. The task would have gone more quickly if he had been able to keep his eyes on what he was doing rather than on the single tendril of mahogany hair that had slid out from beneath Jessica’s hat. The silky, subtle fire of the curl fascinated the boy, as did her light foreign accent and softly curving lips.

«Is everything all right?» Jessica asked finally.

Caught staring, the boy blushed to the roots of his badly cut hair. «Sorry, ma’am. I’ve never seen anything like you outside of the fairy tale books Ma used to read to me.»

«That’s very sweet of you,» Jessica said, hiding her smile. The boy’s transparent approval was like a balm after Wolfe’s constant anger. «Here. Let me get the door. You have far too many packages.»

Jessica opened the door, caught a package that was teetering on the edge of falling, and gathered her skirts above her ankles to avoid the mud and manure of the street. She looked both ways, having narrowly avoided disaster earlier when a rider had gone racing through the streets at a dead gallop, whooping and swinging an empty whiskey bottle overhead like a sword in one hand while firing a six-shooter with the other. The performance would have been more impressive if the pony hadn’t stopped suddenly, sending the rider head over heels into the muck.

«Careful, ma’am,» the boy said. «The town has gotten real lively since word of gold came out.»

«Gold?»

«Somewhere up in those mountains. San Juan country.»

«That’s where we’re going.»

«Thought so.»

«Why?»

«Your husband paid in raw gold,» the boy said simply. «Bought horses at the stable with gold, too. Word went through here like wildfire.»

When they were closer to the wagon, the boy looked hesitantly at Jessica. «Tell your husband to be careful, ma’am. Gold brings out the lowest kind of devil in men. From what I’ve heard, WolfeLonetree is a bad man in a fight, but he’s only one man. I’d hate to see a delicate girl like you come to grief.»

Jessica looked at the boy’s pale brown eyes and saw that he was older in many ways than she had thought from his awkwardness around her. She suspected that frontier living cut short the innocence of childhood. The boy was at least six years younger than she was, but he had an adult’s understanding of the harshness of life.

«Thank you,» she said softly. «Wolfe will —»

«Well, what do we have here?» asked a rough voice, cutting across Jessica’s reassurances. «Mighty fine clothes for a town like this. Mighty pretty gal, too. Come here, sugarplum. Old Ralph wants a good look at you.»

Jessica ignored the man who was standing at the rear of the wagon, wearing a split riding coat, muddy clothes and a wide leer.

«Put the packages in the back of the wagon, please,» she said to the boy.

While she spoke, she climbed into the wagon seat. Beneath the cover of her flowing skirts, her hand closed around the buggy whip.

«Ma’am,» the boy said. His face was pale, his voice urgent.

«Thank you. You may go back to the store now.»

Jessica smiled reassuringly, wanting only to remove the boy from the reach of the men who were gathering around the wagon.

«Please go. My husband will be along soon. Perhaps you could see what’s keeping him?»

«Yes, ma’am!»

Ralph’s hand shot out, but the boy twisted aside, evading capture. He sprinted for the stable, sending clots of mud flying with each step.

Jessica’s fingers tightened on the stock of the whip. She sat quietly, looking at the horizon, acting as though she were alone. The comments of the men gathering around the wagon told her she wasn’t alone, but they weren’t saying anything she chose to overhear.

A heavy, dirty hand grabbed a fold of her hem.

«By God, I haven’t felt anything this soft since Atlanta. Bet it’s even softer underneath.»

Several men laughed. The sound was as coarse as the muddy street.

The few townspeople brave enough to walk past Main Street’s raucous saloon saw what was happening, but hesitated to interfere. The eight men around the wagon were heavily armed and drunk enough to be ugly without being incapacitated in the least. They made a formidable gang.

Nor was Jessica known to the townspeople as other than the wife of ahalfbreed. It wasn’t a high personal recommendation in the raw frontier town, where Indians were thought to be worth a lot less than a good coon hound.

«A sawbuck says she’s wearing silk underwear,» called one of the men.

Ralph’s hand tightened on Jessica’s skirt. «Well, sugarplum, is you is or is youain’t?»

That witticism sent one man laughing until he could barely stand without the help of the wagon.

«Come on,» Ralph said. «Show a little leg to the lads.»

Jessica ignored him.

«Look at me when I talk to you,» he snarled. «Any slut that lies down with ahalfbreed should be damn grateful that a white man will even touch her.»

When Jessica felt her skirt shift, she wrenched the wagon whip free and brought its heavy stock down across the bridge of Ralph’s nose with all the force of her small body. Bellowing with rage and pain, Ralph let go of the skirt and grabbed his face. Blood spurted between his fingers. Before Jessica could turn to face the rest of her attackers, Ralph grabbed her wrist, pulling her off balance.

There was a sound like a pistol shot, followed by a high scream. The grip on her arm loosened. From the corner of her eye, Jessica sawRafe running toward her, wielding the supple bullwhip with lethal skill. As she watched, his left arm moved slightly and the long bullwhip leaped forward. The odd, pistol-like sound came again. Close to her, one of the attacker’s hats seemed to leap up and fell away in two pieces. Blood poured from a gash over the man’s eye.

Suddenly, the men were reaching beneath their coats.

«They have guns!» Jessica yelled.

She brought the buggy whip down as hard as she could on the closest man, but knew it wouldn’t be enough. There were five men left untouched, four more were running from the saloon, and they were all armed.

«Get down!» Rafe yelled.

Jessica ignored him, for she was too busy laying about with the buggy whip.

Rafe’sbullwhip sang out again, but this time it wrapped very gently around Jessica’s waist. The yankRafe gave wasn’t gentle at all. It pulled her right out of the wagon and into his arms as gunfire erupted around them. Pressed between the side of the wagon andRafe’s big body, Jessica saw little of the fight.

What she did see astonished her. Wolfe was down the street in front of the stable, two hundred yards away, and he was picking off men just as fast as he could lever bullets into the firing chamber. Lead whined and crashed around the wagon. The withering hail of bullets sent the men scattering.

All that prevented every one of the attackers from being killed was the fact that Jessica was in the middle of the fracas.

«Son of a bitch, but that man can shoot,» Rafe said reverently.

A lull came in the firing.

«Jessi!» yelled Wolfe.

«I’m all right!» she called back.

«If I were you, boys,» Rafe said in a normal tone, «I’d see how far down into that mud I could get beforeLonetree reloads.»

The wisdom ofRafe’s advice became apparent as Wolfe swapped rifle for carbine and opened fire again. The men who hadn’t fallen already threw themselves full length onto the soggy ground.

«Hang onto the wagon, ma’am,» Rafe said.

Blindly, Jessica grabbed the rough wood.

Rafestepped back until he could see all of the men.

«Keep your heads down, boys, or you’ll lose them.»

It was the only thingRafe said. It was all he had to say, for the whip in his hand was like a living thing, flicking restlessly over the fallen men, plucking at their hats and coats, nipping at fingers that crept closer to hidden guns. No sharppistolsounds came from the bullwhip now, simply an unnerving hissing and seething as leather licked lightly over flesh.

One of the men moaned and crossed himself.

«That’s the idea,» Rafe said encouragingly. «Never too late for a man to get religion.»

Wolfe arrived at a dead run, carbine in hand. Behind him came the boy from the dry-goods store, carrying the empty rifle. One by one Wolfe went to the frightened men, rolled them over with his boot, and memorized their faces. They stared back at him and knew they had never come closer to dying.

When the last man had been memorized, Wolfe stepped back. «If I see any of you near my wife again, I’ll kill you.»

Jessica looked at Wolfe and had no doubt of it. Even as she told herself she should be appalled, she wasn’t. She sensed she would have been brutally treated by men who knew nothing of her but her name and her sex.

«I’m counting to ten,» Wolfe said in a neutral tone that was more threatening than a shout. As he spoke, he began feeding cartridges into the carbine. «Anyone who is in sight when I’m finished had better be shooting. One. Two. Three. Four.»

There was a frantic scrambling as men came up out of the mud and stumbled down the street. Most were limping. Several could use only one arm.

One man didn’t move at all.

Somehow, Jessica wasn’t surprised that it was the man called Ralph who had died. Neither wasRafe. He looked from themohonless man to Wolfe and nodded.

«Good job, Lonetree. You’re everything I’ve heard you were. But you’re still only one man and if s a long way to Cal’s spread.»

There was nothing friendly in Wolfe’s blue-black eyes as he levered a cartridge into the firing chamber and turned onRafe.

«What the hell business of yours is it where we’re going?»