After the Ashes(110)
“I don’t want to leave him.” The sensation of Douglas’s piercing stare forced her to lift her gaze.
He smiled. “I see. Chris has quite a way with women, the lucky bastard.”
Lorelei didn’t return his smile. She burned to tell him that Christopher loved her, wanted to marry her, but the quirk of Douglas’s lips told her he would only find that amusing. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. But she did feel ashamed, as if she weren’t good enough to be anything other than a passing fling to Christopher Braddock, son of a U.S. senator.
Douglas cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean anything by that. You know, I’m going to put in a good word for you with the judge.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, but your brother is. Surely you know that.”
She had the distinct impression he was studying her reaction, hoping she’d reveal something.
“I know Corey made a mistake.”
“A big mistake. Jay said he shot the man who tried to kill Braddock, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was part of the robbery.”
Lorelei had vowed to quit defending her brother, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Corey was afraid of those men. He got away from them the first chance he could.”
She plucked the damp cloth off of Braddock’s head, avoiding Douglas’s harsh gaze. He made her feel as if she should confess something.
“If he told us where the gold is hidden, it would help his story.”
“I thought the gold was at Specter Canyon?” Something Ricochet had said popped into her mind. She hadn’t had time to think about the awful moments before Christopher was shot. Ricochet had thought Corey had the gold.
“We searched every crevice of that hell hole. Most of the gang’s dead, including Mulcahy. But the owners of the Rio Grande Railroad want their gold. And powerful men in Santa Fe want the railroad finished. Heads are going to roll, starting with mine.”
Lorelei rested her palm against Christopher’s cheek. Fever still burned through him. She couldn’t think about the gold, didn’t dare think about what Corey knew of it. She let her hand stray to Christopher’s heart. The wound had missed it by barely an inch. She slid her hand back up to his throat, checking his pulse. The faint beat barely reached her fingertips.
“We should be on our way. He needs to be in a bed.”
Douglas nodded. “You’re right. He wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for you, Miss Sullivan.”
He smiled sadly, and she wondered if it was because he thought Christopher wouldn’t survive in the end, or because he could tell she was in love with him.
“Thank you. Call me Lorelei.”
“Thank you, Lorelei.” He crawled out of the wagon. When he was again on solid ground, he turned to face her. “You’ll be staying in Arriba, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
Douglas retrieved his hat from the edge of the wagon. He put it on, angling it over his eyes. “I’ll need to question you once we get him into a doctor’s hands. None of this makes sense, Lorelei.”
She nodded, then sagged in relief when he finally sauntered away. Reminding herself she hadn’t done anything wrong didn’t stop the swirl of dread that squeezed her chest. She stretched out next to Christopher, praying for him to wake up. But her fear wasn’t for him, nor even for Corey. This fear was for herself.
***
Lorelei marched down the steps of the clapboard house Douglas had commandeered. He had no right to keep her from Christopher. Though the doctor from Santa Fe slipped past the bedroom door to assure her Chris was still alive, he was under instructions not to allow him visitors. The only thing that kept her from barging past him, besides the fact that he outweighed her by at least a hundred and fifty pounds, was that she didn’t want to disturb Christopher’s rest.
She dragged herself down the dusty street, not daring to think Christopher didn’t want her there. It was all Douglas’s doing, and as soon as Christopher awoke he’d set everything right.
Wade Langston separated himself from the shade cast by the house’s sloping roof and fell in by her side. She hadn’t spoken to him since he had sat tied to his horse on Jay’s farm. Tinges of yellow replaced the ugly purple bruises left by Christopher’s beating. Lorelei thought to apologize, but feared incriminating herself further.
“You don’t have to follow me to my hotel, Mr. Langston. I’m not going to run away. I have nowhere to go.”
“You can call me Wade. And you don’t have to worry, Lorelei. I don’t blame you for things you had no control over.”