“Jake-”
But it was Burt Donley who filled the doorway.
Chapter Eleven
“Where’s Redman?”
Panic came first, and it showed in her wide, wild eyes. She was still holding the skillet, and she had one mad thought of heaving it at his head. But his hand was curled over the butt of his gun. She saw in his eyes what she had never seen in Jake’s, what she realized she’d never seen in any man’s, not even in those of the Apache who had kidnapped her. A desire, even an eagerness, to kill.
He stepped inside, and through the thickness of his beard she saw that he was smiling. “I asked you, Where’s Redman?”
“He’s not here.” It surprised her how calm a voice could sound even when a heart was pounding. She had a man to protect. The man she loved. “I don’t believe I asked you in.”
His smile widened into a grin. “You ain’t going to tell me he brought you all the way out here last night and then left a pretty thing like you all alone?”
She was terrified Jake would come back. And terrified he wouldn’t. She had no choice but to hold her ground. “I’m not telling you anything. But as you can see, I’m alone.”
“I can see that, real plain. Funny, ‘cause his horse is in town and he ain’t.” He picked up a biscuit from the bowl on the table with his wide, blunt-edged fingers, studied it, then bit in. “Word is he spends time out here.”
“Mr. Redman occasionally visits. I’ll be sure to tell him you were looking for him, if and when I see him.” “You do that. You be sure and do that.” He took another bite, chewing slowly, watching her.
“Good day, then.”
But he didn’t leave. He only walked closer.
“You’re prettier than I recollect.”
She moistened her lips, knowing they were trembling.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No, but I’ve seen you.” She strained backward when he put a hand to her hair. “You don’t favor your pa none.”
“You’ll have to excuse me.” She tried to step to the side, but he blocked her.
“He sure did set some store by you. A man can see why.” He pushed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth, chewing as he reached down to toy with the small bow at her collar. “Too bad he got himself killed over that mine and left you orphaned. Smart man would’ve kept himself alive. Smart man would’ve seen the sense in that.”
She shifted again, and was again blocked. “He could hardly be blamed for an accident.”
“Maybe we’ll talk about that later.” Enjoying her trembling, he tugged the little bow loose. “You look smarter than your pa was.”
Lafitte burst in, snarling. Donley had his hand on the butt of his gun when Sarah grabbed his arm. “No, please. He’s hardly more than a puppy.” Moving quickly, she gathered the growling dog up. “There’s no need for you to hurt him. He’s harmless.”
“Donley likes killing harmless things.” Jake spoke from the doorway. The men stood ten feet apart, Jake backed by sun, Donley by shadow. “There was a man in Laramie-more of a boy, really. Daniel Little Deer was harmless, wasn’t he, Donley?”
“He was a breed.” Donley’s teeth gleamed through his beard. “I don’t think no more of killing a breed than a sick horse.”
“And it’s easier when it’s back-shooting.”
“I ain’t shooting at your back, Redman.”
“Move aside, Sarah.”
“Jake, please-”
“Move aside.” He was over the sick fear he’d felt when he’d seen Donley’s horse outside the house. He was cold, killing-cold. His guns hung low on his hips, and his hands were limber and ready.
Donley shifted, settling his weight evenly. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”
“Some of us get lucky,” Jake murmured, “and wait a long time to die.”
“When I’ve killed you, I’m going to have the woman, and the gold.” His hand slapped the butt of his gun. The.44 was aimed heart-high. He was fast.
The sound of a gunshot exploded, ripping through the still morning air. Sarah watched in horror as Donley stumbled, forward, then back. A red stain spread across his shirt and his leather vest before he fell by the stone hearth and lay still.
Jake stood in the doorway, his face expressionless, his mind calm and cold. He’d never once felt the rush some men spoke of that came from killing. To him it was neither power nor curse. It was survival.
“Oh, God.” Pressed back against the wall, Sarah stared. Lafitte leaped out of her limp arms to crouch, growling, by Donley’s gun hand. Her vision grayed, wavered, then snapped back when Jake gripped her arms.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, I-”
“Get outside.”
Hysteria bubbled up in her throat. A man was dead, lying dead on her floor, and the one holding her looked like a stranger. “Jake-” “Get outside,” he repeated, doing his best to shield her from the man he’d killed. “Go on into the shed or down to the stream.” When she only continued to stare, he pulled her to the door and shoved her out. “Do what I tell you.”
“What-what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to take him into town.”
Giving in to weakness, she leaned on the rail, dragging in gulps of the hot, dusty air as though it were water. “What will they do to you? You killed him.” “Barker’ll take me at my word. Or he’ll hang me.” “No, but-” Nausea was churning now, coating her skin with a thin, clammy sweat. “He wanted to kill you. He came looking for you.”
“That’s right.” He took both her arms again because he wanted her to look at him, really look. “And tomorrow, next week, next month, there’ll be someone else who comes looking for me. I got fast hands, Sarah, and somebody’s always going to want to prove they got faster. One day they’ll be right.”
“You can change. It can change. It has to.” She struggled out of his hold, only to throw her arms around him. “You can’t want to live this way.”
“What I want and what is have always been two different things.” He pushed her away. “I care about you.” It was easy to mean it, hard to say it. “That’s why I’m telling you to walk away.”
He’d just killed a man in front of her eyes. And killed him coldly. Even through her horror she’d seen that. But it hadn’t left him untouched. What she saw now was the frustration and anger of a man caught in a trap. He needed someone to offer him a way out, or at least the hope of one. If she could do nothing else, she could give him hope.
“No.” She stepped forward to frame his face with her hands. “I can’t. I won’t.”
Her hands were trembling. Cold and trembling, he thought as he reached for them. “You’re a damn fool.”
“Yes. I’m quite sure you’re right. But I love you.” He couldn’t have begun to tell her what it did to him inside when she said that. When he looked into her eyes and saw that she meant it. He pulled her against him for a rough, hungry kiss. “Go away from the house. I don’t want you here when I bring him out.”
She nodded, took a long breath and stepped back. The sickness had passed, though the raw feeling inside remained. “Once I was sure there was only right and wrong, and that to kill another person was the greatest wrong. But there isn’t only right and wrong, Jake. What you did, what you had to do, kept you alive. There’s nothing more important to me than that.” She paused and touched his hand. “Come back.”
He watched her, as he had watched her once before, start up the rise to her father’s grave. When she was
