Two

Jessie Foltry struggled to align her vision. A stranger, whose features remained shrouded, knelt over her. She couldn’t stop the panic that raced through her veins. The last time a man’s hands moved this familiarly over her, pain had followed.

Instinct born from years of survival made her recoil from his touch. Such a crouch had saved her on numerous occasions.

“Don’t!”

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. I’m not gonna hurt you. Maybe you can’t remember, but you asked for my help.”

She didn’t feel guilty for her sharpness. Well, maybe a tad for the way he jumped back, because his low tone offered genuine concern—something she hadn’t heard in a long time. Not quite so long that she’d forgotten how warm and safe it made her feel. And almost so nice her guard slipped for a moment before she sternly lectured herself. Nice could get a woman killed.

“Where am I?”

“About two miles from Cactus Springs. I camped here for the night…me an’ the babe.” The man waved his arm loosely toward a sleeping child curled on a bedroll. “Name’s McClain. Duel McClain.”

Jessie tipped her head slightly to acknowledge she heard. Strength to do more had seeped out hours ago on the trail behind her. Gauging the intentions of this stranger before she lost consciousness again commanded priority at the moment. Though the night obscured many of his features, light from the flickering fire enabled a clear view of his face. The lived-in look he wore told more than words—of days spent wandering and nights lost in the sleepless land of the damned. Somehow, the pain in his eyes matched the agony deep in her soul.

Kindred sorrow tempted her to trust him. Almost. That is, if she hadn’t forgotten how to do that, too. She inched her tongue past her swollen lips, the simple action sending a sharp onslaught of needles to her brain. The unmistakable taste of blood rewarded her efforts.

Suppressing a moan, she managed, “Where’s your woman?”

An expression she read as guilt dropped a shadow over Duel’s sharp gaze.

“Don’t have one. The babe, Marley Rose, is a long story.”

Jessie tensed. Had her instinct to trust him been wrong? The man clearly hid something. Perhaps they had more in common than she thought. Could be they were both running from the law. A flesh trader? She’d heard tell of such men, and the pistol in her saddlebag wouldn’t do her much good where she lay.

“You steal her?”

“No. Won her in a poker game tonight. You have a name?”

Jessie stared down at her trembling hands. She wished she could still the telltale tremors.

Duel rose from his squatted position and hooked both thumbs in his low-slung gun belt. His tall frame looming over her only served to increase her unease. “Guess not.”

“Jessie.” She didn’t offer a surname. It didn’t pay to give a man more than he needed to know.

“Wearing a lot of blood on you, Miss Jessie. You wounded?”

A vivid scene flashed before her eyes. Two, no, three figures throwing her back and forth, then suddenly merging into one. A man laughing at her confusion. Pain, horrible pain as fists rained blow upon blow to her body.

Jeremiah.

She shut her eyes tightly to block out the images. But when she opened them again she still saw the revolver and the orange flame shooting from the barrel.

“No.” Her voice sounded faint in her ears. “The blood’s not mine.”

“Want to tell me whose it is?” From beneath the brim of his hat, his dark gaze pierced her thin armor.

Jessie crossed her arms protectively over her chest.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t say it’s any of my affair. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna die on me. Have enough trouble of my own without borrowing a heap from someone else.”

Duel reached down. All she saw was his arm coming toward her. She reacted out of habit, swinging her head aside to dodge the blow.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “Rest beside the child. I’ll care for your horse. Tomorrow’s soon enough to sort things out.”

After what seemed like a lifetime, Jessie finally placed her hand in his. She let him pull her up but kept her face averted, refusing to meet his confused look.

Her battered body couldn’t resist the notion of sleep. Even if she wanted to ride back out, her head wouldn’t let her. Curious thing how the ground kept spinning round and round.

The slight bundle huddling beneath a blanket drew her attention. She couldn’t offer the child anything except warmth.

* * *

Duel watched her stumble to the bedroll and collapse. Lord only knew what had befallen the woman. She couldn’t have tangled with a wild mountain lion and come out any worse.

After seeing to her horse, he returned to the fire. Jessie lay on one side, her arms around Marley Rose, hugging her close. Two misfits whom it seemed no one wanted. A fine mist clouded his vision. He blinked hard and settled down, leaning back against a night-cooled rock.

The woman’s eyes were open, staring into the darkness surrounding them. Curiosity made him speak. He needed to know what he was up against if nothing else.

“Any reason why I shouldn’t keep watch, ma’am?” he asked softly.

Silence stretched to a full minute. He had given up hope for an answer when she said at last, “Only if you don’t care about living to see the sunrise, mister.”

So much for hoping. “Go to sleep. Anyone gets you, they have to go over me first and that’s a promise.”

Had someone sneaked locoweed into his food? He’d just spent the better part of the evening deciding he didn’t need the responsibility of one small baby. Now, he’d gone and added a desperate woman to the list, and who knew what low-down varmints were on her trail.

Damn!

He sighed and rose to throw more wood on the fire. It wasn’t a good idea to advertise their position, but the baby girl needed heat against the coolness. It wouldn’t do for her to get sick. He reckoned a fight with a few mean polecats would be worth the risk. Right now he ached to ram his fist into the jaw of the no-good who’d turned Jessie’s face into something resembling a belly-up armadillo.

Preacher nickered softly as if agreeing and nuzzled Duel’s outstretched hand.

“It’s been just you and me, boy, for the last year and a half. We haven’t needed anyone else. Still don’t.” He let his hand inch down the mustang’s muscled neck and bit back a sudden overwhelming urge to give in to his despair. “God, how I miss Annie!”

Burying his face in Preacher’s long mane, he succumbed to the rush of memories. His beloved’s golden hair, her sweet smile that made everything seem right as rain even if it wasn’t, and the way she looked at him when he entered a room, like she’d just spied a rainbow for the first time. Those were the things he missed. Those and a few hundred other little incidentals.

“Don’t do a man any good to recall what was.” He squeezed his eyes tight to block the pain. “Can’t ever be that way again, so there’s no use dwellin’ on it. It’s over an’ done with. Just felt I owed you an explanation, boy.” Duel straightened and leaned back, putting himself on an eye level with Preacher. He must be getting maudlin, treating the horse as if he could understand. But Lord, it felt good to speak the thoughts aloud.

“Like I said, it’s just you and me. Except now, for a little while, till I can get this mess sorted out, we have to take good care of that baby girl over there. She’s never done a single hurtful thing to anyone, and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve the rotten hand she’s been dealt. Marley Rose needs us, and we’re gonna see that she gets a good home.” The rasp of his fingers against a month’s worth of stubble sounded loud in the quietness. “If I can figure out where home is.”

Unconcerned, the mustang dipped his head to snip some sweet grass.

“I ain’t done yet, so don’t start ignoring me. The other little lady who busted in on us is not our account. Most likely she’ll vamoose come first light. Fine by me. The woman’s way past grown.”

Moonlight reflected off Preacher’s black coat, casting it a shimmering blue. “The thing I’m trying to say is…this is only a temporary arrangement. Then, it’ll be you and me again. We’re a pair of aces.”

But as Duel moved to the deep shadows out of the firelight, he knew he’d uttered a lie.

He cared.

Something in him refused to let him do otherwise. Didn’t help that he’d always had a warm spot for poor, defenseless creatures, big or small. He knew if Jessie wanted his help he’d not turn her down.

Movement from the sleeping forms on the bedroll arrested his gaze. The woman changed position but still kept her arms around the child as if to protect her. After all Jessie had been through, and sorely in need of her own protector, she still tried to shield Marley Rose from unseen danger. The thought sent goose bumps shimmying up his spine.

His eyes lingered a second longer than necessary on the soft, womanly curve of Jessie’s hip before moving onward over the length of her form. Sharp pangs of guilt knotted in his belly. Although he hadn’t so much as laid a hand on Jessie, he felt as though he’d just committed some crime. A man didn’t examine a woman’s body uninvited as he just had. No gentleman, for sure, not that he laid claim to being one.

That brought his thoughts back to whoever had found pleasure in using her face for a battering ram. How did a man justify trying to destroy all that pretty softness?

A rock crunched beneath the heel of his boot as he settled down to wait for the dawn. Ah, the pleasure it would give him to crush Jessie’s attacker beneath his thick heel, and add to that Marley Rose’s sorry-assed father.

No sign of that happening yet. Except for the occasional coyotes howling in the distance and the hoot of some night owls, the vast Plains held its secrets. If others followed Jessie, they were dragging their feet.

Without knowing why or stopping to wonder, he suddenly felt more alive, more aware of the sound of his own heartbeat than he had in a long time. A slow smile curved his lips. For someone who fought judiciously against adding the encumbrance of others to his life, he sure seemed to be losing the battle.

He tilted his Stetson and glanced up at the changing sky.

It’d be daylight soon. He might as well get more wood for the fire and scare up a rabbit or two for breakfast.

* * *

Panic set in when Duel returned to camp less than an hour later to find the bedroll empty. Blood pounded in his temples as he scanned the area for Jessie and Marley Rose. Then he heard the faint sound of a child’s happy gurgle.

The creek.

He suddenly developed two left feet in his haste to find the missing pair. A mesquite branch grabbed his shirt, tearing a long gash. It didn’t matter. Nothing did except finding his baby girl and making sure nothing happened to her. Only one thing stopped him dead in his tracks—the metallic click of a cocked hammer and a cold warning.

“Stop where you are or you’re a dead man, mister.”

She certainly sounded serious. He mentally kicked himself for not searching for a weapon when Jessie busted in on their camp last evening. The thought of running his hands over those soft curves looking for cold metal increased his sudden need for air.

With some effort, he pulled his thoughts back to the situation at hand. Was the pistol loaded or did she merely hope to bluff? Unfortunately, he had only one way of knowing.

“Ma’am? Miss Jessie? It’s me, Duel.” He inched forward.

“You come a step closer and I’ll blow your head clean off your shoulders.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Just want to make sure Marley Rose is all right.” Heedless of the warning, he continued to steal forward, trying to glimpse them through a copse of cottonwood saplings and a tangle of brush that grew beside the winding creek.

“She’s here.”

“I’d feel better if I took her back to camp…” He used his most gentle tone—the one he might use to cajole a wild, scared mustang.

“Hang on to your nightshirt.” She sounded a tad riled.

The time to dance was when the music was playing. With a careful hand, he pushed aside the branches of a sapling to create a small opening. Then he saw them. A half-dressed Jessie sat on a rock holding a six-shooter pointed directly at him, while Marley Rose played happily at her feet.

Lucky for him the brush still hid him from her view or she’d have him doing the hot-water jig.

Early morning sunlight caught the woman’s hair, sending shots of fire through the warm cinnamon curls. Duel held his breath, unable to move at the sight. Though marred by dark bruises, creamy skin peeked from a thin undergarment that dipped low across her bosom. He’d not seen such a vision since Annie died, and the sight stirred a longing in him.

Cautiously, Jessie laid the weapon on the ground and vainly looked for something to cover herself with. Finding nothing, she hauled her wet dress from the creek. He surmised she’d been washing blood from herself and the garment, blood that belonged to someone else, or so she claimed.

Holding the water-soaked clothing to her with one hand and picking up the gun with the other, she directed, “Come and get your baby, mister. But I’m warning you. Touch me and so help me God I’ll shoot you.”

The crack in her flinty voice struck a chord. Duel ached to take her in his arms and hold her until all the hurt was gone. Until the fear of men had left. Until she could walk confidently in this wild Texas land. He wanted to make her smile again.

Taking care not to startle the woman, he eased his big frame forward with both hands in the air.

“There you are, Marley Rose.” He spoke gently as he scooped the baby into his arms. “I’ll bet you’re ready for some vittles if I can only coax some milk from that ornery goat.”

He stole a quick glance at Jessie. Up close and in the light of day, the severity of the dark bruises made his stomach lurch uncomfortably. Instead of a belly-up armadillo, her face resembled something that had been drug behind a horse—through a cactus patch. His anger bubbled.

The need to speak some words of comfort tied his tongue in knots. What could a man say that would change anything? Sorry that any fellow human could do that to another wouldn’t suffice. Besides, blue fire in the eye that wasn’t swelled shut told him what he could do with any pity he might feel.

“Coffee’s brewing, Miss Jessie ma’am. I’ve got us some rabbits for breakfast when you’re done here. Hope you’re hungry.” Maybe she didn’t expect kindness from anyone, or perhaps she didn’t trust herself to speak, for she only nodded.

Marley Rose stuck two fingers in his mouth, finding his teeth of interest. He lowered his gaze and swung on his heels.

Call it curiosity or just plain nosiness, something made him turn for one last look. With her back to him, Jessie had knelt to resume her task.

That’s when he saw it. The bitter taste of bile rose to his throat.

Burned into the smooth whiteness of her left shoulder was the blackened outline of a diamond with the letter J set clearly in the middle.

A cattle brand!