To Kiss a Texan

NINE

WES FOLDED THE MAP HE’D SPENT AN HOUR STUDYing and leaned back in the kitchen chair. ‘‘I have to go,’’ he announced. ‘‘The Goliad treasure is real, I can feel it.’’

Both his brothers, across the table from him, frowned. Long past midnight, coffee and adrenaline had kept them anchored in the conversation.

‘‘It’s a wild goose chase.’’ Daniel folded his huge arms over his chest. ‘‘I’d never thought you’d fall for such a scheme. The map’s barely readable and obviously drawn with a hand shaking of age or drink. Texas is full of buried treasure stories, a lost Confederate gold shipment, Indian burial grounds, miners after ’49 who left their fortunes here until the war was over. How many others are you going to fall for after this one?’’

Wes gave him the look all big brothers give their younger siblings, the look that silently says, ‘‘I’ll always be older and wiser than you.’’ He’d expected them to be skeptical, cautious, logical. Even a little excited. But not blatantly disbelieving.

‘‘How much did you pay for this map?’’ Adam lifted the oilcloth as if weighing its worth and finding it light.

Wes grabbed it out of Adam’s hand, frustrated at them both. They had what they wanted out of life. Adam had Nichole, and Daniel had his daughters. Why couldn’t they allow him his dream? ‘‘I paid nothing. Vince gave this map to me for safekeeping a few nights before he died. He seemed skittish about someone trying to take it from him. He was always glancing over his shoulder as though a ghost followed him.

‘‘Since he died, I guess that makes the map mine. Vince told me once that his only relative was his grandfather, and the old man passed on soon after drawing the map.’’

Daniel shook his head. ‘‘There’s probably nothing there, or it was found twenty years ago.’’

Wes shrugged. ‘‘Maybe. But Vince said his grandfather rode with James Fannin at Goliad back in ’35 when the war with Texas and Mexico began. He said they left the mission with every man they could round up to go help the men fighting at the Alamo. Over five hundred strong, some say, a mixture of Texans and several volunteers from the southern states. Within a few miles, one of the wagons broke down, and they stopped to make repairs. Santa Anna’s army, still excited from their kill at the Alamo, caught up to Fannin and his men in an open field.

‘‘The grandfather told how they fought for hours, but it was hopeless. They were surrounded and outnumbered. Fannin, a West Point dropout, decided to surrender with the understanding that they’d be marched to the border and told to leave Texas forever. But Santa Anna marched them back to Goliad and held them inside the old Spanish mission. There were so many, only a third of the men could lie down and sleep at one time. As the days passed, the men knew their chances of dying grew. They started digging a tunnel, hoping to reach the river. By Palm Sunday of 1836, with the tunnel only a third finished, they knew their luck had run out. Santa Anna began ordering the men out to face the firing squad.

‘‘Frantically, the men pooled all their valuables and stuffed them into the tunnel. Then the last few to leave the mission collapsed the tunnel and placed stones across the opening so that no one would ever find it.’’

Daniel leaned forward with interest. ‘‘Then what happened?’’

‘‘They were all marched out and shot. Fannin was already wounded in the leg. He was carried from the mission in a chair, but insisted on standing for the execution. His last request was not to be shot in the head. The firing squad blindfolded him and twelve rifles were raised to his skull.’’

‘‘What about Vince’s grandfather?’’

‘‘Vince said he was with volunteers from South Carolina called the Rovers. They were told to march out as a unit, away from the others. At first they thought they might be taken to the border, but then they noticed the soldiers carried only rifles, not canteens.

‘‘About a mile from the mission, the Rovers were ordered to stop and kneel in the grass. Vince’s grandfather was toward the back of the company. He said the Rovers refused to kneel, and the army opened fire. In one round of blasting the first rows fell, screaming and crying in pain. Smoke from the old flintlock guns rose everywhere. Vince’s ancestor saw his chance. He ducked low and ran as fast as he could toward the river. He took a ball in the leg but didn’t stop.

‘‘He tripped and rolled in mud until he landed among the roots of the trees that grow along the Guadalupe. He lay there all day listening to the army hunting down the runners and shooting them. Finally, long after dark, he slipped into the water and floated downstream to freedom. He drew the map from memory, but the bullet he took crippled him too badly to let him reclaim the treasure.’’

‘‘But others escaped?’’ Daniel asked, suddenly allowing the boy to show through in the man not yet in his midtwenties.

‘‘I’m sure a few did. If they were healthy, they went on to fight with Sam Houston. But maybe they weren’t among the last to leave the mission and didn’t know where the treasure was buried. Or maybe they were like Vince’s grandfather and never could go back and claim it.’’

‘‘It’s a long shot.’’ Daniel shook his head. He’d never been a risk taker.

‘‘Yeah,’’ Wes agreed, ‘‘but it’s the only shot I’ve got left. That stampede at the Red River not only cost me the lives of most of my men, it took every dime I had. I’ve got a ranch with no cattle. When we first came here, after the war, I could have rounded up enough strays to start over, but not now. The treasure at Goliad-if it exists-will give me a fresh start.’’

Adam stood and moved to the stove to pour himself another cup of coffee. ‘‘It sounds too good to be true. All the valuables from hundreds of men just waiting to be found.’’

Wes laughed and held out his cup to be refilled. ‘‘That’s what I thought, too. There’s only one thing I forgot to mention. Vince gave me the map saying that his grandfather believed the treasure was cursed. I told him I didn’t believe in curses or ghosts. It seems every man who ever had the map or looked for the treasure died. First Vince’s grandfather, then his father and both his uncles, now Vince.’’

‘‘Oh, fine.’’ Daniel laughed. ‘‘We’re all sitting about looking at a map that’s killed everyone who ever got near it. Makes me want to go treasure hunting.’’

Wes shook his head. ‘‘No, I’ll go alone. I only wanted you to know where I was headed. Since the night of the stampede, something’s been bothering me. Two of the men on early watch reported seeing riders that night who asked about Vincent Edward. But no men came into camp, and Vince took his shift about an hour before the stampede.’’

‘‘You think they were planning to do Vince harm?’’ Adam voiced his thoughts.

‘‘Or take the map,’’ Wes answered. ‘‘If they confronted him while he was on watch, I’d stake my life that Vince wouldn’t tell them where the map was. But they may have guessed by now. Or, they may think the secret of the map died with Vince.’’

‘‘You think they might have killed him?’’

‘‘One shot would start a stampede,’’ Wes answered. ‘‘We never found Vince’s body to know one way or the other. Maybe they only meant to frighten him. Maybe they died along with him.’’

‘‘If they killed him for the map and lived, they’ll be after you if they think you might have it.’’

‘‘That’s why I need to get to Goliad as fast as possible. If the mission holds a treasure, I’ll find it before this blasted curse catches up to me. And I’ll telegraph back here every few days to keep in touch. If someone comes asking after me, they’ll start with one of you.’’

‘‘We’ll let you know if you’re followed,’’ Daniel promised. ‘‘But if you need help, send for us. Luckily, I still have Willow to look after the twins and every woman in the settlement thinks she’s the assistant. I can be ready to ride within the hour.’’

‘‘What about Allie?’’ Adam asked.

‘‘I was thinking, she’d be better off staying with you.’’ Wes set his jaw. ‘‘She gets along great with Nichole. Plus, I want her out of danger. I can’t very well take her with me.’’

‘‘What about your promise to her?’’

‘‘It can wait a few weeks. I’ll find her family, but first I have to find the treasure.’’

Daniel frowned. ‘‘She may think her family is more important than the gold.’’

Wes ignored his disapproval. Neither of his brothers seemed to understand that he was doing no good here. It might be weeks before a lead on her family came in. Time was running out on the treasure. He could feel it. The odds were against him already; every day lessened his chances.

Standing, he added, ‘‘I’ve made up my mind. I’ll leave at first light.’’

‘‘You’d better tell Allie,’’ Adam warned. ‘‘We’ll be glad to have her stay with us, but you can’t just leave her without telling her you’re leaving.’’

‘‘All right.’’ Wes didn’t think it would do any good. ‘‘I’ll tell her now. Not that she’ll understand or care.’’

As he walked out of the room he noticed Adam was pouring Daniel another cup of coffee. He knew they were planning to continue the conversation without him. Neither of them understood the drive that pushed him. Wes didn’t want to settle down. Oh, he envied his brothers from time to time, but there was something in his blood that didn’t take to sameness day after day. He needed the adventure, the unknown. The days spent recovering had been long and wearing on his nerves. He wasn’t a man who could be molded to routine. Angela Montago did him a favor by refusing his offer of marriage. He’d only been dreaming when he’d asked her. What was right for his brothers wasn’t right for him. The sooner he learned to live with that, the better off he’d be.

Wes opened the door to his bedroom with a snap. Might as well wake Allie up and tell her, he thought. She’d probably breathe a long sigh of relief not to have him around anymore.

As he’d expected, Allie was curled up in the hard wood chair with her cape around her. She raised her head when he entered and stared at him with those dark blue eyes. Except for that cold night he’d carried her to his bed, he hadn’t slept beside her again.

‘‘Evening,’’ he mumbled, wondering how many years would have to pass before he no longer saw the fear in her eyes each time he entered a room. ‘‘Sorry to wake you,’’ he said without any sorrow in his tone or any belief that she’d been asleep. ‘‘But we have to talk.’’

She straightened and pulled the cape tightly around her.

Wes moved to the end of the bed and sat facing her. He could have reached out and touched her, but he didn’t. ‘‘I have to leave tomorrow at dawn.’’

Her eyes widened slightly.

‘‘You’ll be safe here with Nichole and Adam. They’ll stand beside you, should anyone come to see you.’’ He hesitated, wanting to be honest. ‘‘Where I’m going may mean trouble, and you’re better off here.’’

She didn’t move. If he’d expected a reaction, he would have been disappointed.

‘‘With luck, I’ll be back in a few weeks. A month at the most. By then maybe we’ll have a lead worth following on any family you might have left. I’m not forgetting my promise.’’

She didn’t move.

Wes slapped his knee. ‘‘Well, good-bye.’’ He wasn’t going to get sentimental about leaving a woman who looked at him like he might kill her at any time.

But then he remembered the feel of her hand in his. Funny, he thought, he’d never considered himself the kind of man who’d hold a woman’s hand. But he had to admit, he liked the way her fingers curled around his own. He liked the comfort of knowing that, for a few moments at least, she wanted him near.

On impulse, he stretched out his hand, palm up, toward her.

She stared at it a moment, then slowly lay her fingers on his.

Wes saw the ring and remembered that, as far as the world was concerned, this woman was his wife. The ring she wore had meant so much to May, Daniel’s wife. And when she’d died, Daniel had slipped it on his little finger as if somehow he could keep the bond alive. He’d taken it off to save Allie. But the ring lost its meaning in the passing. Allie wasn’t Wes’s wife. No woman would ever be. She’d saved his life and, with the ring, he’d saved hers. That was all.

‘‘I’ll miss you, little blue eyes.’’ Wes smiled. ‘‘I’ve grown used to our long talks.’’ He placed his other hand over her fingers, warming them. ‘‘If I don’t make it back, you’ll be safe here. Adam will know what to do.’’

Her hand felt so tiny in his. Now that the bruises were healing, he could see she was really a pretty girl. Once he found her family, she’d probably fit right in with a circle of friends.

‘‘Well…’’ He stood without letting go of her hand. ‘‘I have to get some sleep if I’m going to leave at dawn. I’ve been out of the saddle too long.’’

As he turned loose of her hand and moved away, she watched him with those huge blue eyes he figured he’d see in his dreams for the rest of his life. She didn’t really need to talk. Her stare told him much. She was still afraid of him, but she didn’t want him to leave.

Wes undressed and climbed into bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. He lay there staring at the darkness, wondering if she were doing the same thing. He thought about getting up and carrying her to bed, but the night wasn’t all that cold and she might not understand.

Not that she was any company anyway. He wasn’t even attracted to her in the way a man’s attracted to a woman. He told himself it was more like how a man would feel about helping a child… well, not exactly. Maybe the way he’d feel about saving a wild animal… well, not just like that.

‘‘Well, hell,’’ he mumbled and rolled to face her. ‘‘Allie, are you awake?’’

She didn’t answer, but he sensed she was watching him from her perch on the chair.

‘‘I…’’ Wes stopped. What could he say? I want you to come over here and crawl in bed with me? He didn’t need her. He’d never needed anyone.

‘‘I thought…’’ Wes closed his eyes tightly, trying to forget that she was a few feet away. He’d sound like a blasted fool if he said something like, I’d like to hold you tonight and smell your hair. The woman didn’t like him, as far as he could tell. She’d probably knife him in his sleep for even asking such a thing. The only reason she remained in his room was because she was more afraid to be anywhere else.

He twisted in his covers, then threw them off him. If he told anyone what he was thinking they’d laugh him out of any bar in town. But he didn’t plan on telling anyone, and it was a certainty that Allie wouldn’t.

‘‘Allie,’’ he started, determined to finish. ‘‘I want you to come over here and sleep next to me.’’ There, he’d said it plain and simple. ‘‘I’m not going to hurt you. I just don’t want to be alone tonight.’’

The minute the words were out, he wished he could take them back. Never in his life had he said something so foolish, at least not stone sober. If she did understand a word he said, she was probably laughing at him over in her corner. Here he was, a war hero, a hard man, a loner, telling her he didn’t want to be alone in the dark, like some child. Her silent company was all he asked her to give. Nothing more.

Wes jerked as he felt the cover being pulled away from his side. Without breathing, he remained still as she slipped in beside him, closing the blankets over them both with her movements.

Her back rested lightly against his side and her head on his arm.

It was several seconds before Wes could draw a full breath. He lay in the darkness feeling her against him. Her hair was soft and warm on his arm and shoulder. He could just make out the beating of her heart against his ribs. Her bottom pressed lightly against his leg.

He’d never been further from thoughts of sleep in his life. He listened as her breathing grew slow and regular. In her sleep, she snuggled closer for warmth. Her hand moved across his arm and came to rest at his elbow.

Dear God, she felt good. He never remembered a woman feeling so good.

Wes tried to think back over the years. In truth, he couldn’t remember ever sleeping with a woman. He’d made love to a few and then left. He’d passed out in a few beds along the way when he’d been drinking between battles. But he could never remember just sleeping next to a woman except for Allie.

She wore no perfume, yet he closed his eyes and drank in the fresh smell of her.

Wes slowly rolled on his side and moved his hand along her middle, just below her ribs. He pressed his face into the soft warmth of her curls and took a deep breath as he tugged her gently closer against him.

She relaxed in his arms. Responding to his encouragement without question. He tightened his grip around her, feeling her breasts resting just above his arm, enjoying the way she molded against him all soft and willing.

Carefully, he moved her hair away from her throat and lightly touched his lips to the spot where her pulse pounded so regular. He wasn’t kissing her, but drinking in the nearness of her. He moved his mouth across her throat once more, only this time his lips opened slightly so that he could taste her flesh as well as feel the slow, steady pounding of her heart.

She moved in her sleep, unknowingly offering him more. But he knew if he tasted deeper, he’d awaken her and probably frighten her.

Wes closed his eyes and tried to sleep. What had he asked for? He’d said he only wanted her near. And she came believing him. He couldn’t break his word.

This night was a hell and a paradise of his own making. She’d trusted him so near for the first time. He couldn’t betray such a trust.

All through the night, Wes only dozed. When he’d move, she’d adjust beside him. When she moved, rolling first one way and then the other, he’d settle her with his touch. Molding her back against him so that he could feel her resting against the length of him. Drawing her close enough so that the rise and fall of her full chest pressed against his. Slowly, he pulled her into a world that was only theirs.

‘‘Allie,’’ he whispered, half asleep. ‘‘Allie, I don’t want to leave you.’’

His words brought him full awake. He stared down in the dim light and saw her looking up at him. Hate still filled her eyes.

Wes brushed her cheek with his fingers, pushing back her hair. ‘‘Allie, don’t be afraid.’’

He closed the few inches between their mouths and lightly kissed her lips. When she didn’t pull away, he touched them again. They were warm and full… and unresponsive.

Wes leaned away and studied her. She hadn’t moved, but her eyes were still wild with fear.

He rolled slightly and tasted her mouth more fully. When he pressed his thumb on her chin, she opened her lips. He kissed her deeper, but she didn’t respond.

Wes raised to one elbow, trying to read her thoughts. He placed his hand on her waist and heard her sudden intake of breath, but she didn’t stir. When he pressed harder, she turned her head away, but didn’t move as she fought down a cry.

‘‘Allie,’’ he asked in panic. ‘‘What is it? What are you so afraid of?’’

She didn’t answer.

‘‘Allie! Look at me.’’ He twisted his hand into a fist. The material of her gown drew up in his fingers, pulling the cotton tight across her breasts.

‘‘Look at me!’’

Finally, she faced him. He couldn’t miss the tears in her eyes.

His hand brushed across her waist, feeling of the cotton of her gown, trying to comfort her, erasing the wrinkles he’d caused with his grip.

She trembled but didn’t twist away from his touch. She seemed frozen in place.

Wes lowered his mouth to her once more. For a few moments, he waited, a fraction from her. He could feel her rapid breathing against his lips. He decreased the distance between them until his mouth brushed hers. When she didn’t move, he tasted her lips with his tongue as he inched closer. She was still, as before, while he kissed her, but he could taste the panic, feel the fear.

‘‘Allie,’’ he tried again, raising his hand so that he in no way held her in the bed. ‘‘Tell me! What frightens you so?’’

She laid her hands on either side of her and gripped the sheet. She looked like someone waiting to be shot.

Wes watched her closely. ‘‘Do you wish to leave? Do you want me to stop?’’

She closed her eyes, spilling tears as she did. Shaking her head back and forth, she told him no with her action even though her entire body looked as if she were preparing to be sacrificed.

He fought down his anger at the world and kept his voice low. ‘‘Then unbutton your gown.’’ He ordered a test. He had to know.

With eyes stinging in unshed tears, she raised trembling hands and unfastened the buttons of her gown as Wes watched.

Fighting tiny sobs, she fumbled with each button as first the lace of her collar, then the white cotton of her gown began to fall away.

Wes watched her throat appear, then her collarbone, then the rise and fall between her breasts.

She stopped.

He studied her. Her eyes were closed tightly now, as if the terror to come was too great to bear. The few inches of open gown showed the swell of her breasts.

He could do nothing but stare. The beauty of her, even in the near darkness, was overwhelming.

‘‘Allie,’’ he whispered finally.

She jerked as if she’d been slapped and unbuttoned another button. It was taking all her strength to do what he wanted.

The opening in her gown widened slightly, revealing more of her flesh. When she finished the last button at her waist, she placed her hands at her sides, once more gripping the sheet.

‘‘Allie?’’ Wes felt like his insides were being ripped out. ‘‘You’ll do anything I tell you, won’t you?’’ The test was over. He knew the truth.

She nodded.

‘‘But why?’’ He brushed the tears from her cheek. ‘‘Are you so afraid I’m going to hurt you? I told you I’d never raise a hand against you, Allie.’’ He knew by the way she was acting that she’d been hurt before. He couldn’t help but wonder how many men had demanded she remove her clothes and how many times she’d been beaten, so that now just the fear of it made her tremble and obey.

Carefully, as she lay beside him, he rebuttoned her gown all the way to her throat. Then he pulled her gently against him and let her cry softly on his shoulder.

Finally, when the tears had stopped, he whispered, ‘‘Talk to me, Allie. Tell me how I can help. Tell me that you believe I mean you no harm. Let me know what frightens you so.’’

Her fingers touched his lips, silencing his words.

He turned so that he could see her face as she raised above him.

‘‘Don’t-’’ She swallowed as if the words were stuck in her throat. ‘‘Don’t leave me.’’

He understood then. She’d do anything, let him do anything, but she didn’t want to be all alone again.

‘‘I won’t,’’ he promised.