Married by Christmas. Karen Kirst
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two years. While not much to look at, the dog must certainly be well loved. Becca was famous for her weakness for strays.
He called her name again, and she jerked upright, jade irises nearly eclipsed by wide, black pupils. She blinked. Focused on him. Sympathy and concern flashed across her face, tucked away the moment she became aware of his regard. All business once again.
Rising with the grace of a dancer, her movements lithe and fluid despite having slept in an awkward position, she seemed to float across the floor. He used to tease her that gravity didn’t have as tight a hold on her as the rest of earth’s population. Maybe it was her artistic spirit, her ability to see beauty in ordinary things.
Going to the kitchen, she dipped out water for him. Helped him drink the cool liquid, which heated as it slid down his parched throat.
“I need for you to bring Rebel to me so I can get outta here.”
Her fingers tightened on the glass. Plunking it onto the bedside table, her brows descended. “I will do no such thing.”
Stunned by the conviction in her voice, he slumped onto the pillow. He couldn’t recall her ever standing up to Adam this way. No sirree, she’d gone along with pretty much whatever his best friend suggested. Not that Adam would’ve asked her to do anything questionable. Or risky. That had been Caleb’s department.
“I have to get home.” He could send his brothers to fetch Sheriff Timmons. “Why won’t you help me?”
“You have a life-threatening injury, that’s why,” she retorted, exasperation twisting her mouth. “For once in your life, accept that you have limitations. You’re not invincible, Caleb O’Malley. Thought you would’ve learned that by now.”
The words hung in the air, the implication quite plain. She meant he should’ve learned his lesson two years ago, the night he’d dared Adam to break into the sawmill yard.
Closing his eyes, he recalled the last time he saw her. Back in August, he and his brother Nathan had been delivering milk and cheese to Clawson’s Mercantile when they’d crossed paths. Her derision and anger, entirely justified, had practically reached out and strangled the life out of him.
“I know how difficult this must be for you,” he scraped out. “No one would’ve blamed you if you’d left me to freeze out there. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but my family can take it from here. No need to impose on your hospitality any longer.”
Shock crystalized in the jade orbs. “You think I’m that coldhearted? You think I’d leave you t-to...” She flung out an arm. Emotion rippled through her lithe form. “Just because I despise everything you stand for doesn’t mean I’d wish death upon you.” Pushing hair away from her face, she turned her back on him. Stalked away from the bed.
“I didn’t mean to imply...” He sighed, frustrated at the weakness invading his body again. Waves of it, jumbling his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Becca.” For all of it.
Slowly spinning on her heel, ivory cotton housecoat flaring around slim ankles encased in thick, gray wool stockings, she shot him a probing look. “What happened to you?”
It appeared as if he was going to have to level with her. If she knew the danger he was putting her and her sister in, she’d no doubt pack him off so fast his head would spin.
“I saw something I shouldn’t have.” He debated how many details to divulge. Decided she was strong enough to handle the truth. “Sheriff Tate was murdered two nights ago.”
Trembling fingers lifted to cover parted lips. Eyes huge in her face, she came closer and sank down on the wooden chair facing the bed. “You saw this?”
Every last gory detail. The helplessness resurfaced in his chest. He’d never be able to oust Tate’s horrified expression from his memory. Never. “I was out riding later than usual, had delayed setting up camp because I’d decided to swing by my folks’ for a quick visit.” No use mentioning he’d planned to stop here first and leave parcels of fresh deer meat, something he’d been doing off and on since that encounter in August. Anonymously, of course. “I stumbled upon a nightmare. At first, they didn’t see me. Preoccupied with their prey, I suppose.” His lip curled with disgust. “They had him surrounded. On his knees, hands tied behind his back. The leader, she—”
“She?” Becca blurted, dumbfounded. “Surely you don’t mean...”
“Knocked me back, too.” He shifted, sucked in a harsh breath at the resulting ache. His leg throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
“Do you need more pain relief?” She scooted closer, her too-perceptive eyes grave.
Beneath the covers, he fisted his hands. “No.” His brain was fuzzy enough without adding medicine to the mix. He had to focus on convincing her to help him get home.
“What was a female doing with a gang of criminals?”
“I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but to me she looked like...” His jaw tensed, picturing the bitter reproach marring the blonde’s features. “She looked like a woman who’d been rebuffed.”
“You think she and Tate were involved romantically?”
“Could be. Or she was interested and he wasn’t.” Only, why kill him if it was a simple rejection? This woman had seemed deeply distressed.
“There has to be more to it than that,” she echoed his unspoken sentiments. Tapping her chin, she mused, “Under what circumstances would a woman on the wrong side of the law associate with a lawman?”
“I don’t know.” Though the lack of answers bothered him, the main issue here was justice. “I do know how to identify them, however, and I aim to do whatever it takes to make certain they pay for what they did. That’s why I need to see Shane Timmons.”
Concern flowed over her features, and this time she didn’t attempt to hide it. “Did they get a good look at you?”
“Hard to say. I was positioned on the edge of a clearing, and there was a full moon. The storm was still south of us. I know for certain they saw Rebel.”
She nodded. “With his distinctive markings, he won’t be hard to identify.”
And if they did glimpse Caleb’s face, his scar would make it easy for them to locate him.
“Now do you understand why I have to leave?”
Popping up, she began to pace. “I can’t let you go.”
His heart suffered a series of palpitations. Oh, he knew she meant it literally, not figuratively. Still, the words hurled him backward in time to when they were teenagers, to when he’d envied Adam’s good fortune, had wondered what it would be like to have a girl like Becca—beautiful, sweet-natured, affectionate—head over heels in love with him.
He’d cared about his best friend’s girl a little more than he should have.
“You have to.”
She whirled on him, hot color splashing across her cheekbones. “I don’t have to do anything. You are not leaving until you’ve improved or the doctor comes to take you away.”
“Why, Rebecca Thurston, I do believe you’ve developed a backbone,” he drawled, fascinated by this unusual display of temper. Her eyes blazed with an internal strength not present when they’d been friends. What had happened in her life to forge such a change?
* * *
He’d noticed, had he? In his mind, she was still the naive, eager-to-please, hopelessly-in-love-with-love young girl with big dreams and an even bigger future. Well, things changed. People changed.
That love-struck teenager was long gone. Did he realize he was the one responsible for her disappearance?
“Yes, well, I’m all grown up now.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. “And I’m obviously the only one thinking rationally at the