Seventeen

Lara’s breath hitched. There was something sinful about being here in the night shadows with Houston, even though she reminded herself that this was what husbands and wives did.

She loved kissing him and pressing against the hard planes of his body. Surrounded by the crisp air, she found something wild and carefree about running her fingers across the expanse of his chest beneath his shirt. The fine hair wasn’t crisp as she’d imagined.

Living in a household of boys, she’d often seen her brothers without shirts. Something told her that Houston would be much different from what she was accustomed to. Houston’s body had filled out, his powerful muscles rippling under her touch. He projected a sense of danger—a sleeping rattlesnake whose strike could be lethal if awakened. Men who crossed him should take heed.

With great daring, she let her fingers feel their way across his warm skin until she reached the hard pebble of a nipple.

Houston’s quick breath whistled through his teeth. Lara jerked her hand back.

What had made her touch him like that?

A soft chuckle caught on the breeze. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Lara. That felt nice.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” She turned toward a rustle in the brush. Her face flamed. What if someone had seen her just now? They’d think… Houston would think…

Her mind flew back in time. She knew how little it took for a man to get ideas. A perceived glance, a flicker of a smile. That was all it had taken for Yuma Blackstone to rip off her dress and throw her down. She hadn’t touched his chest. In fact, he hadn’t taken his shirt off. And cruelty and pain had been the result.

“Lara?” Houston laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and brought her around to face him. “I don’t know where you went just now but come back so we can talk. You can touch me.”

“No.” She kept her eyes lowered. “It causes men to do bad things.”

“Blackstone, you mean. Never, ever confuse the two of us.” Houston snatched off his hat and plowed his fingers through his hair.

When she dared to glance at him, she saw a grim, tight mouth and hard lines that appeared carved from a piece of granite.

“It’s all I have to go by,” she whispered brokenly.

“Then I’ll have to give you some new examples.” Houston jammed his hat back on and folded his arms around her. Lara felt warm and safe as his honest, fresh scent washed over her. He carried the essence of the wild land, be it Texas or Indian Territory.

A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke again. “Darlin’, just touching me as you did won’t release some savage beast. I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to. I promise you that.”

His deep voice settled like comforting warmth in her heart.

“But—” she began.

“No buts. None,” he said firmly. “You can feel safe and trust me.” He buried his face in her soft curls. “If it takes me a lifetime, I’ll replace every bad memory with a good one until nothing remains but light and happiness. All right?”

Lara sighed. “I don’t mean to make your life harder.”

“You’re not. We’re going to get through this. Now, I think you need to get to bed, darlin’. I’ll be nearby watching over you.” Houston turned toward the fire.

She watched him take two steps before she spoke. “Wait.”

He stopped. “What is it?”

“This.” Lara moved in front of him. Rising on tiptoes, she pressed her mouth to his.

Currents of something strange flowed through her. She didn’t know what it was but she liked it and wanted more. When she was a girl, she used to stick her face against the windowpane when lightning shook the ground, and the thunder would send waves through her. Kissing Houston felt that way.

It was wonderful and strange and she seemed alive again.

His arm came around her, enveloping her. She realized suddenly that he was her lighthouse, like the one she’d once seen in Galveston. He was her beacon in the night on a storm-tossed sea and he’d never steer her toward rocks.

She was breathless when they ended the kiss. “Now I can sleep.”

“If not, I’ll be here any time you need another.” From the big grin on his face, you’d think he’d found gold.

She didn’t know about him, but could vouch for herself. What she’d found meant more than all the gold on earth.

She’d found a man who could shine a light on the dark places and make her heart sing.

And he already belonged to her.

* * *

Two days later, Lara was serving the men breakfast. Houston had grabbed coffee and a biscuit and ridden out to talk to Clay. Virgil sat Gracie on a blanket on the ground to get in line. She smiled at how fast her daughter crawled, chasing a small beetle. Before she could go after her, Henry picked up a hot pan.

“Ow! It burns!” he cried, dropping the skillet. “Hurts bad. Help.”

Lara quickly dunked his hand into a bucket of cool water while she looked for her tin of ointment. By the time she took care of him, she went in search of Gracie and found the babe clutching leaves of a trampled plant in both fists. Her heart froze.

Deadly jimsonweed.

“No, Gracie!” Lara grabbed her up and frantically ran her finger around the inside of the babe’s mouth, bringing out small bits. Maybe she hadn’t swallowed any. Minute particles would sicken but not kill her, but Lara’s doubt wouldn’t let hope rise.

The scourge was every rancher’s worst nightmare. Cattle died from eating it.

If it killed a hefty cow, dear God, what would it do to someone of Gracie’s size?

Please, God, let me have caught her in time.

In the midst of the chaos, Houston arrived at a full gallop. He strode toward her with his chaps slapping his legs, and his face reflected her fear.

“How much did she eat?” he asked.

“I don’t know. She had some in her mouth. Maybe I caught her in time. I washed her good and flushed out her mouth.” But they both knew better. Already Gracie’s eyes were heavy and her head slumped against Lara’s shoulder.

Houston picked up the babe. Lara watched him desperately trying to rouse her, but she slipped further and further into a world where they couldn’t follow. Worry etched the faces of each silent cowboy who gathered around them. Lara knew how much this little girl meant to each of them.

“Is there anything we can give her?” Lara asked. She’d never known of treatment but that didn’t mean none existed.

“I don’t know of anything.” Houston’s dark brows crimped together. “I’ve never heard of a person eating the weed, only cattle and the results…” He left the rest unsaid.

“I have to do something. I can’t just stand here.” Lara balled her apron between her hands. The urge to scream rose.

“A doctor might help, but…”

“How far would we have to go?” She refused to voice the doubts in her head. She’d seen the vast land, and so far, Cherokees were the only living souls they’d come across. If this territory had towns within riding distance, they’d be isolated. She reached for Houston’s hand. She needed his warmth to melt some of the ice floating in her veins.

Just then, Gracie stiffened and began to jerk uncontrollably and her eyes rolled back in her head. Houston cradled her to him, rubbing her back. No sooner had the convulsions stopped before the child vomited up bits of green.

Lara sobbed so hard, she didn’t realize that Clay had joined the circle until he spoke. “The map shows a town called Chimney Rock not far. I’m sure it’s small. Might not have a doc.”

“How far?” Houston barked.

“An hour’s ride more or less,” Clay answered, scratching his head. “Nearest doctor could well be Fort Supply, though.”

That was weeks away, and they might not even have an hour. Gracie’s skin had turned red and her pulse raced as fever ravaged her body. She didn’t seem to see them through her half-closed eyelids or know they were near.

Lara stilled. “We have to try.”

Houston pulled her into the circle of his arms. “Whatever needs doing, we’ll do. I won’t let Gracie die.” Houston kissed her cheek then glanced down at the unconscious babe. “Let’s find a doctor.”

Before Lara knew it, cowboys put her on a pretty little mare and she and Houston set out at top speed. They seemed to ride for days, time slipping by unnoticed. At times she wondered if they’d lost their way. When she asked, Houston assured her they’d be at Chimney Rock soon.

But would the town have what they needed?

She couldn’t lose her baby. Gracie was her reason for living. A glance at the babe in her arms showed her barely breathing. Her eyes were closed and her chest barely rose and fell. Tears ran unheeded down Lara’s face.

A gurgling noise alerted her. “Houston, she’s going to throw up again.”

He grabbed the mare’s headstall and stopped the mount. Lara held Gracie over in the nick of time. When she’d emptied her stomach, Houston wiped her little mouth very tenderly. A shimmer of tears filled his eyes and Lara realized that this big, strong husband of hers, who always appeared in control, wasn’t.

“We’re going to make it,” Lara said firmly. “We’re going to find a doctor in time.”

He nodded. “Let’s ride.”

Lara almost screamed with impatience, but soon Chimney Rock came into view. The small town nestled in a little valley like some place that time forgot. The buildings were in a sad state. Lara’s hopes sank as they rode down the single street, only a few businesses on each side. They passed the saloon, the mercantile, the barber, and all the rest without seeing a doctor’s shingle swinging in the breeze.

Houston stopped in front of the mercantile and dismounted. “I’ll go in and ask. Just don’t lose hope. Often doctors don’t hang out a shingle when they operate out of another business.”

“All right. But please hurry.”

A glance at the sun told her several hours had passed since she’d found Gracie. What kept Houston? A small group of young men sauntered around one of the buildings. They saw her and came forward. Lara pulled her hat low, hoping to hide her face.

The one with a hawk nose and a protruding tooth in front touched her dress. “Don’t recall seeing you around. Me an’ the boys can show you a real good time if’n you’re needin’ a man.”

“Leave me alone,” Lara answered through gritted teeth. “I have a man and he’d make twenty of you.”

His friends hooted and one said, “Zeb, she seems a mite uppity to me. Bet you can take her down a notch.”

Zeb leered up at her. “Got a long scar on her face. Don’t have anything to be uppity about. Fact of the matter, she’s as ugly as lye soap.”

“I’m warning you.” Lara kicked at him. “You’ll be sorry if you don’t go about your business.”

“That so? I’m shakin’ in my boots.” Zeb threw back his head, howling with laughter. The next instant, he grabbed her foot and yanked her sideways in the saddle.

Lara clutched Gracie and clung to the saddle horn. Her heart hammered in her chest as panic swept up her spine.

Boots pounded on the wooden steps leading from the mercantile, but Lara was too frightened to look. She recognized Houston’s growl, though. He grabbed Zeb and tossed him like a matchstick.

Caught off guard, Zeb hollered, scrambling for his gun. Lara’s heart stopped when the despicable young man pulled out a .45 and pointed it at Houston. “You just dug your grave, mister.”

A muscle quivered in Houston’s jaw as his hand hovered above the handle of his Colt. When he spoke, his words were hard and brittle. “That woman is my wife and I should shoot you for touching her. But if you pull that trigger, son, I guarantee you’ll regret it.”

“That so? I’m not your son either. I’m no one’s son. Listen, I’m going to make this a fair fight, pops. Just so everyone will know who’s faster.” Zeb got to his feet and returned his gun to the holster, keeping his hand an inch above the handle. “Tell the devil Zeb killed you.”

Frozen in fear, Lara held her breath, afraid to blink. Her tongue worked in her dry mouth, trying to form words to stop the bloodshed. But none came, leaving her to watch in silent horror.

Houston was all that stood between her and these horrible ruffians. If they killed him…

Lara watched in horror as Houston moved to square himself, his feet spread apart, his body braced for whatever came. She just prayed it wasn’t a bullet.

Suddenly, as if realizing exactly how much trouble he’d walked into, Zeb sent his friends a silent plea to jump into the fight. He didn’t appear that enthused about taking on Houston alone. But his friends shook their heads and stepped into the roof’s shaded overhang. She understood Zeb’s dilemma and his companions’ reluctance, because Houston’s large shadow could put fear into any man. Having watched him on the cattle drive, she knew he wouldn’t back down from anyone.

She’d heard her father speak of men like Houston, saying that no one could whip them. They had a mental advantage and size to match.

With her eyes shut, she jumped at the sound of gunfire, listening for the sound of Houston’s body hitting the ground.

Please let him be all right.

When she opened her eyes, relief flooded over her. Zeb’s shot had missed Houston.

In a lightning move, Houston slid his Colt from the holster. She cringed at the powerful boom and watched orange flame burst from the end of the weapon.