planned to say something to him about their night together.
She'd felt him trying to lie so still beside her. Known he was awake. Guessed he wrestled with himself and what he'd done. He said he didn't want her near, but he'd taken more time caressing her than had been necessary to determine size.
He might never want to love or care for her, or be near her. But she didn't feel the same way. She thought she'd never have a husband. Now that she did, she wanted a real husband.
Karlee closed her eyes, forcing back the tears as she realized her need to love was greater than her need to be loved. If he'd just let her love him. Like Wolf said, it was a decision people make. She felt like she had a lifetime of love stored up inside her. Daniel, despite his moodiness, was a good man. She could love him and the twins. It wouldn't matter that he would never love her. It might not be the romantic kind of love poems are written about but more a practical kind of love.
She wasn't some woman he could marry and forget about. Karlee planned to make sure he knew she was around and that she could help him. He was a kind man, with a body that stopped her heart from beating when she saw him fully bare. He might not want a wife, but she wanted a husband, and she planned to have one.
Karlee set her jaw. She had nothing to lose. She started without anything. If she ended up without him, she was no worse off than she'd been all her life. And she found it hard to believe he could like her any less than he did now. He seemed to have to force himself to talk to her most of the time. But she'd keep trying.
This was no half-baked scheme. This was a great idea, for sure, this time. This was her one shot. When the time was right she'd tell him she'd decided to love him and all she asked in return was to be allowed to do so.
When she reached the house, she was too busy to speak to Daniel. The boy everyone thought of as John- except the boy himself-had toppled his chair and cut a gash in his head only moments before Karlee entered the kitchen.
She watched an exhausted Adam square his shoulders and open his bag. Wolf and Wes held the boy still while Allie cried and the doctor worked. Karlee moved around Adam as she had all night at the Buchanan home, guessing what he needed before he asked.
When the stitches were finished, the three men went to wash off the blood in the horse trough out beside the barn. The kid had managed to splatter them all with what he believed to be his pure Apache blood. Wes was the last to leave, glancing first at his tiny wife and than at Karlee. His gaze seemed to ask Karlee to look over this fragile woman he loved so dearly.
Karlee nodded in answer to Wes's unspoken question, then turned her attention to Allie.
“I won't be ten minutes, Allie,” Wes whispered. “I'll wash up and then help Adam with his horse.” He closed the door, not expecting an answer.
Allie didn't seem to hear Wes as she cried softly and knelt beside her bound brother.
“I'm sorry.” She brushed his hair back from the bandage. “This is all my fault. You shouldn't be tied and forced into a way of life you don't want.”
For the first time, Karlee saw no hatred in the savage's eyes. Only a pleading flickered from his dark depths. He wanted to be free, and he would keep trying until it killed him.
Allie must have seen it also, for she stood slowly and walked to the sink.
When she reached for a paring knife, Karlee's hand covered Allie's. The small woman looked up at Karlee with her broken heart shimmering in her blue eyes.
“I know what I'm doing.” She gripped the knife and pulled away. “I have to help him before the men get back. My brother won't fight us, but he might try to kill one of the men.”
Karlee nodded. She wasn't sure what her sister-in-law planned, but she'd back her up. There was an intelligence, an understanding within her that Karlee didn't question. Somehow Allie and the boy were connected by more than just the hope of a bloodline. Somehow their souls blended.
Allie crossed to her brother, speaking in a mixture of Apache and English. “I'll cut you free,” she whispered. “If you kill no one. You must go before they return.”
The boy looked at her with the same blank stare he'd always used, telling her all he'd ever communicated… he didn't understand.
Allie sawed at the rope tying him to the chair and repeated her bargain.
John's chest rose and fell as he breathed for the first time without the restraint of the rope over his chest. He didn't move as Allie knelt and slashed the rope binding his feet.
He'd always fought, he'd always struggled, but now he sat perfectly still as Allie moved behind him with the knife.
“I'll set you free,” she repeated. “I've no right to force you. You told me to run for the trees when we were children. Now I tell you to do the same. Run for the water's edge where the trees grow thick in the shallow. No one will find you in the bayou.”
She said the words again in another language. “You told me to have a plan. You told me to run even if you fell. But I was afraid. When you were hit, I curled next to you. Now you must run. Run, John!”
The blade slit the last rope free.
EIGHTEEN
DANIEL HEARD A RACKET THAT SOUNDED LIKE A chair toppling in the kitchen and the shuffle of several pairs of feet. Moving as fast as he could, he shoved the covers aside and stood with far more ease than he had the day before. He managed to make it to the door of his study before Wes yelled that all was settled.
No explanation. Daniel felt like a child being left out of conversation. He could hear movement and voices. Something had happened.
Bracing himself against the frame of his prison, Daniel-tried to make out voices. Wolf's was easy. And Allie's crying drifted to him. And Adam's authority.
Several minutes past. Daniel could hear Wes swearing a few times. Then only shuffling, movements with no one talking above a whisper.
If Adam were back, Karlee could be also. Willow's baby must have been born by now. Daniel frowned.
Willow was like a little sister to him. Why hadn't someone bothered to let him know if she were all right?
Daniel gathered his strength and moved slowly along the shadowy hallway. He'd be kept in the dark no longer. He was tired of being pampered and ordered around. His leg had healed enough to take a little weight. Daniel could stand.
As he touched the kitchen door he heard Allie's soft crying and Wes promise to return in a few minutes as the back door closed.
Slowly, hesitantly, Daniel opened the door to the kitchen. A bright light from the window slashed through his skull. His eyes watered and closed. He almost wished for the blindfold back.
When he forced them open once more, three figures stood before him in fuzzy shades of shadow.
One, a tall woman, near the sink. Karlee. Another woman, smaller, stood at the table. The third, very near, was…
Daniel blinked and tried to focus. The third was a man with very little clothes.
He tried to pull the picture before him from the haze of fuzziness. The throbbing in his leg almost buckled him as he realized the form closest to him had to be the savage Wolf said was always tied in the kitchen.
The savage took a step forward, his movements almost as unsteady as Daniel's. The boy headed toward the tiny woman standing in the center of the room.
“No!” Daniel cried, realizing she was his sister-in-law, Allie, and fearing she would be harmed.
“Wait!” Karlee's order came from across the room. “Daniel, wait.”
But it was too late. Daniel had already turned loose of the door frame and was moving at full momentum toward the savage.
Allie screamed and ran between the two. “No! John don't hurt him! He's blind, John. Don't hurt him.”
John's movements were faster than Daniel's. As he swung to deliver a blow to the blind man, Allie grabbed his arm. She seemed to travel with the punch.
