“Oh, nonsense. If not Samuel, there’s bound to be a man around here who’ll catch your eye.”
The musicians began to play again. A waltz. Half smiling, Sarah listened. “The trouble is,” she heard herself saying, “one has, but he isn’t the kind who thinks about marriage.”
“But who-” Liza broke off when she saw Sarah’s eyes go dark. “Oh, my,” she said under her breath as she watched Jake come into the tent and cross the room.
There might have been no one else there. No one at all. The moment he’d walked in everything had faded but the music, and him. She didn’t see Carlson start toward her to claim the waltz. Nor did she see his jaw clench when he noted where her attention was focused. She only saw Jake coming toward her.
He didn’t speak. He just stopped in front of her and held out a hand. Sarah flowed like water into his arms. She thought it must be a dream. He was holding her, spinning her around and around the room while the music swelled in her head. His eyes never left hers. Without thinking, she lifted her hand from his shoulder to touch his face. And watched his eyes darken like storm clouds.
Flustered by her own behavior, she dropped her hand again. “I didn’t imagine you would dance.” “My mother liked to.”
“You haven’t-” She broke off. It was shameless.
The devil with it. “You haven’t been by to see me.”
“No.”
He was never any help, Sarah thought. “Why?”
“You know why.” He was crazy to be doing even this. Holding her, torturing himself. She had lowered her eyes at his words, but she raised them again now. The look was clear and challenging.
“Are you afraid to see me?”
“No.” That was a lie, and he didn’t lie often. “But you should be.”
“You don’t frighten me, Jake.”
“You haven’t got the sense to be scared, Sarah.”
When the music stopped, he held her a moment longer. “If you did, you’d run like hell any time I got close.”
“You’re the one doing the running.” She drew out of his arms and walked away.
It was difficult to hold on to her composure, difficult not to fume and stamp and scream as she would have liked. With her teeth gritted, she stood up for the next dance with the first man who asked her. When she looked again, Jake was gone.
“Sarah.” Carlson appeared at her side with a cup of lemonade.
“Thank you.” Her small silk fan was hardly adequate for the July heat. “It’s a lovely party, isn’t it?” “Yes. More so for me because you’re here.”
She sipped, using the drink as an excuse not to respond. “I don’t want to spoil your evening, Sarah, but I feel I must speak my mind.”
“Of course. What is it?”
“You’re stepping on very dangerous ground with Jake Redman.”
“Oh.” Her dander rose, and she fought it down again. “How is that, Samuel?”
“You must know him for what he is, my dear. A killer, a hired gun. A man like that will treat you with no more respect than he would a woman who was… less of a lady.”
“Whatever you think of him, Samuel, Mr. Redman has come to my aid a number of times. If nothing else, I consider him a friend.”
“He’s no one’s friend. Stay away from him, Sarah, for your own sake.”
Her spine shot ramrod-straight. “That doesn’t sound like advice any longer, but like a demand.”
Recognizing the anger in her eyes, he shifted ground. “Consider it a request.” He took her hand. “I like to think we have an understanding, Sarah.”
“I’m sorry.” Gently she took her hand from his.
“We don’t. I haven’t agreed to marry you, Samuel. Until I do I feel no obligation to honor a request. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like some air. Alone.”
Knowing she had been unnecessarily short with him, she hurried out of the tent.
The moon was up now, and nearly full. Taking the deep, long breaths Sister Madeleine had always claimed would calm an unhealthy temper, she studied it. Surely the moon had been just as big and white in the East. But it had never seemed so. Just as the sky had never seemed so vast or so crowded with stars. Or the men as impossible.
The breathing wasn’t going to work, she discovered. She’d walk off her anger instead. She’d taken no more than five steps when the shadow of a man brought her up short. She watched Jake flick away a cigarette. “It’s a hot night for walking.”
“Thank you for pointing that out,” she said stiffly, and continued on her way.
“There’s a lot of drinking going on tonight. A lot of men in town who don’t get much chance to see pretty women, much less hold on to one. Walking alone’s not smart.”
“Your advice is noted.” She stormed away, only to have her arm gripped.
“Do you have to be so ornery?”
“Yes.” She yanked her arm free. “Now, if that’s all you have to say, I’d like to be alone.”
“I got more to say.” He bit off the words, then dug into his pocket. “This belongs to you.”
“Oh.” She took the cameo, closing her fingers around it. “I thought it was gone. The Apache with the scar. He’d taken it. He was wearing it when-” When you killed him, she thought.
“I took it back. I’ve been meaning to give it to you, but it slipped my mind.” That was another lie. He’d kept it because he’d wanted to have something of her, even for a little while.
“Thank you.” She opened her bag and slipped the cameo inside. “It means a great deal to me.” The sound of high, wild feminine laughter tightened her lips. Apparently there was a party at the Silver Star tonight, as well. She wouldn’t soften toward him, not now, not ever again. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I’d think a dance would be a bit tame for your tastes.
Don’t let me keep you.”
“Damn it, I said I don’t want you walking around alone.”
Sarah looked down at the hand that had returned to her arm. “I don’t believe I’m obliged to take orders from you. Now let go of me.”
“Go back inside.”
“I’ll go where I want, when I want.” She jerked free a second time. “And with whom I want.”
“If you’re talking about Carlson, I’m going to tell you now to stay away from him.”
“Are you?” The temper that had bubbled inside her when one man had warned her boiled over at the nerve of this one. “You can tell me whatever you choose, but / don’t choose to listen. I’ll see Samuel when it pleases me to see him.”
“So he can kiss your hand?” The anger he was keeping on a short rein strained for freedom. “So you can have the town talking about you spending the day at his place?”
“You have quite a nerve,” she whispered. “You, who spends your time with-that woman. Paying her for attention. How dare you insinuate that there’s anything improper in my behavior?” She stepped closer to stab a finger at his chest. “If I allow Samuel to kiss my hand, that’s my affair. He’s asked me to marry him.”
The last thing she expected was to be hauled off her feet so that her slippers dangled several inches from the ground. “What did you say?”
“I said he asked me to marry him. Put me down.” He gave her a shake that sent hairpins flying. “I warn you, Duchess, you think long and hard about marrying him, because the same day you’re his wife, you’re his widow. That’s a promise.”
She had to swallow her heart, which was lodged in her throat. “Is a gun your answer for everything?” Slowly, his eyes on hers, he set her down. “Stay here.”
“I don’t-”
He shook her again. “By God, you’ll stay here. Right here, or I’ll tie you to a rail like a bad-tempered horse.”
Scowling after him, she rubbed the circulation back into her arms. Of all the rude, high-handed-Then her eyes grew wide. Oh, dear Lord, she thought. He’s going to kill someone. Flinging a hand to her throat, she started
