He'd seen it in his eyes that night. Something dark and dangerous. Unmerciful. What did Ruiz want? At first it seemed he wanted Rain Shadow, but-Anton wasn't sure anymore. Was it Slade he wanted? Something Ruiz had said while Anton lay slipping from reality escaped him. The vaquero was too close to stumbling across the truth about Slade. He had, in fact, uncovered it, but Rain Shadow had been quick to deny it, and Anton suspected Ruiz had been trying to draw something out of her. He'd gotten close. Too close for Anton to rest easy until something was settled. But what could he do?
The scrape of the rocker against the wooden floor caught his attention. Rain Shadow tugged the chair near, the terror provoked by his dream dissipating as she settled in. "There's something I want to say now that you're better."
From the strip of light that bled in from the hall, he could see little of her features, and he was grateful. Just the memory of her haunting amethyst eyes was enough to unnerve him, he didn't want to shame himself in the light. In broad daylight he had seen her perfect breasts and knew the unforgettable, arousing smell of her silken-soft skin. Knowing all that and knowing, too, that she was forbidden was a desolate sort of pleasure-pain. The darkness lent an anonymity that preserved his determination.
She hesitated and drew a quivering breath. "I heard you because I wasn't sleeping myself. I can't get what happened out of my mind. I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm responsible for myself."
"Yes, you are, but you're not responsible for Slade and me. You're not responsible to defend my honor or fight my battles."
"Your battles. He provoked me if you recall. You were perfectly calm, so he worked on me. I could have handled it better."
"I don't think so." Her head lowered as she studied her hands in her lap. "I think he would have found a way, used any means to stir up trouble."
"Why?"
She leaned back once, twice, the ancient rocker creaking beneath her minimal weight. "I don't know."
He'd seen her fear that first time, the day Ruiz had shown up at the house without warning, and his first glimpse of her vulnerability had lodged in his chest, seized something tender near his heart and pounced on it. The bruise was still sore. Her independence was carefully preserved, her determination well-tended. She guarded the security of her tiny, unlikely family like a badger with a litter.
He stared at the ceiling. Her hand closing over the back of his took him by surprise. "This was my fault. I want you to know how bad I feel. You were nothing but generous bringing Slade here. Getting Two Feathers and I was more than you bargained for, but once you were stuck with us, you did okay. My father hasn't been this happy in years. Maybe never." Her thumb brushed lazily across the backs of his fingers. "Slade, too."
Her touch fanned sparks he did his damnedest to deny. As whenever he was alone with her, a perpetual blaze simmered. And you, Rain Shadow? What about you? Have you been happy here, too? Don't care about me now. Not now. Don't offer me your respect or touch me as if you need that physical contact as much I do. I want you so badly I could pull you down with me right here, right now, but I've asked Sissy to marry me. "I've been impossible, and you know it. Don't try to make me sound good."
The ever-present tick of his pocket watch filled the next minute's silence, and though he couldn't see her, he had the distinct impression she smiled. He turned his hand and captured her small one in his palm, wondering when the last time someone had cared for him like this had been. Never. Not since his mother, and she'd died when he was young. What other woman had appreciated anything he'd ever said or done? None.
Was there another woman as poised and proud and bullheaded as Rain Shadow in the entire world? He doubted it. Her stubborn confidence was appealing, but these rare glimpses of vulnerability drew him to her more surely. There must be something he could do. As much as she would object, he had to find a way to protect her. He could picture her hackles rising if he suggested such a thing, but he had to find a way. Ruiz wouldn't get to her or her son if he could help it.
How could he prevent it?
Chapter Ten
Standing on Jack's back. Rain Shadow unerringly flicked tin cans from the fence rail with Smith & Wesson's new model three revolver. The pony routinely circled the corral, obeying commands Anton never heard or saw.
He'd had to give up holding his breath as he watched her ride, bare feet on the horse's rump. He would've turned blue an hour ago. He forced himself to relax, ease the tension from his neck and look the opposite direction. It was good to be outside, though frustrating that his arm still hurt so much. He walked to keep warm, scanning the countryside, wondering where Ruiz was and how long it would be before he returned. As long as that man was out there, his family wasn't safe.
A quarter of a mile north, a wagon was headed for the farm. With his good right hand, Anton pulled out his watch. Three twenty-five. Odd time for visitors. By three-thirty a team pulled Garner Clanton's black buggy up the drive with Sissy perched beside him, father and daughter wrapped in jackets and scarves. Anton disguised the plummeting sensation in his stomach by waving. Back so soon? Johann had just taken her home day before yesterday.
He met the wagon and stood, embarrassed that he couldn't help her down. Her father assisted and turned his ruddy, freckled face to Anton. "I'll be havin' a word with your pa. Know where he is?"
"Barn, last I saw him." Anton watched Garner's red plaid back, then turned to Sissy. "Want to go in and warm up?"
She frowned toward the house for a moment, then shook her head. "No. I want to talk to you."
Oh. Was this the day he'd forced from his mind? Had she come to give him her answer to his proposal? He glanced toward the porch, but decided it was warmer in the sun. "Let's walk."
Brittle leaves crunched beneath their shoes, and Anton wondered which of the Clantons had come with a purpose. The longer the silence stretched, the more he wondered. In the back of his mind, he realized Rain Shadow must have holstered her gun in deference to their callers.
Sissy stopped abruptly. Anton turned and studied her, skin pale in the chill air, freckles dotting her nose and cheeks in sharp relief. Fat sausage curls hung beneath her dark woolen cap. "I've thought and considered like I promised."
Here it comes. He'd asked for it. His stomach felt sick. He'd ticked off her virtues as fast as a seven-day clock wound tight and thought her the perfect choice. Too late for second thoughts. Too late for regrets. Wasn't it? What would he do if she said yes? Kiss her? She would expect him to. He should. He managed a nod.
"I can't marry you, Anton."
He would have to act as if he was pleased, but how was he going to spend the rest of his life with-"What?"
"Something's just not right. I like you. I like you a lot, and maybe someday-well, I don't know. I just know there's not enough there to start a life on, even for someone like me." She inspected her gloved hands self-consciously.
Well, he'd be- She'd turned him down! He stared at her speechlessly. She'd never had a better offer. He wasn't such a bad catch-never smoked, didn't drink much, worked hard. He'd fathered a fine-looking son, owned hundreds of acres of prime farmland and worked it well. What did she want? The answer came to him with the chill wind at his back. A pronouncement of love.
Something he couldn't give her.
"Truth is," she admitted, and brought her gaze to his face, "I have feelings for Nathan Beker. Once he knows 1 turned you down, he'll court me. He told my papa so." Her pale cheeks took on high color.
Anton stifled a self-derisive snort, his ego as ragged as a chipped tooth. If not for his stinking male pride, what did he care? He'd been tied in knots thinking of committing himself to her in the first place. She'd just let him off the hook, free and clear. He could swim away to bluer waters and never look back. The whole idea hadn't set well from the beginning. The sensation of relief confused him. He shot an involuntary glance toward the barn, unable to stifle the startling thoughts that immediately warmed and exhilarated.
He was uncommitted.
No. Don't even think of letting any part of your shortsighted body influence your brain, Neubauer. Maybe Helena McLaury was the better choice after all. He was marrying for Nikky anyway, not for self-gratification, and Nikky hadn't expressed any great fondness for Sissy.