Forbidden Harvest

Forbidden Harvest By Marion Marshall

© copyright Linda Slater 1998 Cover art by Tara Lynn DEDICATION This book is dedicated to Dottie Blackmon for her unfaltering belief in me and for her friendship over the past forty years. Like Katie Wainwright in this book, she is a woman of outstanding grace, perception, and courage.

CHAPTER ONE MONTANA TERRITORY 1874 Katie shuddered as the stranger's shadowed form materialized in the doorway, his face hidden in the shadows. She caught only a fleeting glimpse of his eyes as he came closer. She backed away further into the small unfamiliar room, but there was no escape. He was closer now, but still he did not speak. He had no need. It was very clear to Katie what his intentions were. She shuddered again, not from fear, for although he was a complete stranger, she wasn't afraid. The shudders were generated from the excitement building inside her, growing with every silent step the stranger took as he neared the tiny cot where she cowered, waiting. He reached the cot, staring down at her. He did not speak nor smile nor make any menacing gesture. While she watched, hypnotized by this queer inability to move, he reached down and gathered her into his arms. His mouth crushed hers, bruising her lips, grinding, demanding, yet strangely sensual. "No, please...." she murmured when at last she found an opportunity to tear her lips away from his. "I'm married. I--I can't do this." "Liar," his voice taunted softly between warm exhilarating kisses that rained seductively across the damp velvet of her throat. "You want it too, that's why you led me here. So just shut up and enjoy it. Worry about your conscience later." His voice was husky, vibrating with passion. It seemed to come from far away. Katie couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The world and her responsibility to her family and the vow she'd made to God that she would never let this happen slipped into the distance with every plundering kiss this shadowed, dangerous man took from her. She answered his fevered kisses with total abandonment, matching him caress for caress, muted whisper for muted whisper, tearing at his clothing and her own until their damp, passion fueled bodies were intertwined on the narrow cot. Her back arched to receive him completely. Her nails raked his shoulders while her breath came in labored gulps. Her body seemed to devour him, eagerly, desperately seeking to find gratification from the burning inferno she had become. Reason was gone. She was consumed with desire for this man who

had ignited the long cold ashes of sensuality within her. He was right; she would feel guilty later, go home to face Matt and try to act like nothing had happened. Later she would go to church and beg God's forgiveness for this terrible weakness. Later....much later. Her body was on fire. The stranger's expert touch was bringing her closer and closer to deliverance. Her heart pounded like thunder in her chest, her legs wrapped around him to bury him deeply inside her. At the moment of perfect consummation she opened her eyes to find him staring down into her closed eyes. There was a pleased, almost amused expression on his face, at least what she could see of it in the heavy shadows, but in the depths of his eyes was a warmth that filled her with satisfaction. Those beautiful, strangely colored eyes revealed so much yet said nothing. Even in the throes of release her brows wrinkled in wonder. Those eyes, where had she seen them before? Why did they seem familiar? Then he was moving away from her, replacing his clothing and turning to leave without saying a word. Katie raised onto one elbow to reach for him but he was out of reach. "No, don't go!" she pleaded. "Not yet! Please, don't go!" "Katie! Wake up, Katie!" She snapped back to consciousness instantly, jerking upright in bed, drawing gulps of air into her parched lungs. Turning her head quickly, she saw Matt's worried face, then felt his great brawny arms close around her, pulling her back down onto the damp, tangled sheets. He cradled her trembling body in his arms, smoothed her hair and crooned softly to calm her fears. "You were having a bad dream again, Katie," Matt said gently in his deep resonant voice as he rocked her. "That's the third one this week. Want to tell me about it?" Katie shook her head and bit her lips in shame. Her eyes blurred with guilty tears as she clutched him frantically. "I..I can't remember it, Matthew. It's gone now," she lied softly. "Was it the same dream again?" She nodded her head against the warmth of his chest. "Yes, the same dream, always the same." "Well, don't worry about it, Katie. It was only a dream," Matt assured her with a yawn over her head. Katie nodded again as she bit her knuckles to keep back the tears that stung her eyes. She was afraid suddenly, very much afraid. "I know, Matthew," she whispered against his chest. Her voice was so soft he could

not hear the words. "It was only a dream, but that's what scares me so. My dreams always come true." CHAPTER TWO From the moment the Wainwright family entered Hopkins' store the following morning, Katie was consumed with anxiety. Riding into town beside Matt and the children, she had seen the tension growing between the band of farmers and Fletcher's men. It had been like this for weeks now, the whispered remarks, the sly threats, the open contempt with which the cowhands viewed Matt and the others like him. The Montana territory was building toward a confrontation between the small group of farmers and Justin Fletcher. The tension had never been so great as this bright May morning. Katie shepherded eight year old Dane and six year old Glenna into the store behind Matt, realizing with an anxious glance that they were the only farmers in the place. Matt ambled toward the counter to discuss when a long due shipment of wire would be arriving, pausing momentarily to give Katie a reassuring smile. She forced a smile to her stiff lips, then glanced around again. To her dismay, she saw a handful of Fletcher's men seated at a card table in the rear of the store pretending to play a hand of poker. Hopkins' was a combination general store and saloon, one of the few businesses in Breckenridge so there was no choice of where to purchase goods. But lately, coming to town was a harrowing experience. Everyone expected a spark to ignite the tense situation into open warfare so Katie could not help the uneasiness that filled her at the sight of Fletcher's riders. Her attention was drawn to the second table at the rear of the building. A man was seated there alone. He was obviously not one of Fletcher's men, Katie realized at a glance, for he was not dressed like the others. No spurs, no chaps, no sweat stained hat, just a dust covered shirt and brown leather vest that told Katie he had traveled a long way. His face was shadowed by his hat, his eyes downcast while he toyed with a half empty glass of whiskey on the table before him. As though he felt her staring, the man looked up directly into Katie's eyes. At that distance Katie could not see his features clearly, but their gaze held for a moment before she realized she had been staring at him and quickly made herself busy with her shopping.

Several minutes passed while Katie made her purchases and brought them to the counter. Matt leaned against the counter top, talking quietly with Hopkins while helping the children decide which kind of stick candy they wanted. Abruptly Katie noticed the townspeople in the store had become very quiet. Turning, she realized the eerie silence was due to the approach of Fletcher's men from the rear of the store. One of them, a lanky kid with red hair and freckles named Wade Haskell, strolled past her to brace himself in front of Matt. The others stood back grinning, nudging each other in anticipation. Katie knew there was going to be trouble, but the cowboy addressed Matt before she could speak. "Wainwright, if I was you, I'd just forget about that shipment of barbed wire you're lookin' for." Matt's patient face remained calm. Only his coffee colored eyes moved, scanning the situation, assessing the odds, sizing up his opponent. "You're not me," he said evenly. "Mr. Fletcher ain't gonna let you go stringin' no barbed wire, Wainwright," the cowboy continued boldly. "No sir, it'll be a waste of time for you to go to all that bother. Ain't gonna do you no good." "Justin Fletcher doesn't tell me what I can do on my own land," Matt replied. "Your land?" Haskell sneered. "Wainwright, that farm of yours has been Fletcher land for fifty years. You'd be wise to take your family and get off it before somebody gets hurt." "Thanks for your concern, but I can take care of what's mine." Matt's level voice was firm, confident. Those qualities made the cowboy's fingers itch even though Matt was not wearing a gun. Matt Wainwright stood six feet five and weighed two hundred and forty-five pounds. He was all muscle and although at forty he was several years older than Wade Haskell, the cowboy knew he was no match for Matt's formidable size and strength. Haskell's hand dropped to the butt of his pistol. He watched Matt, expecting the big man to back down, and was surprised when it didn't happen. When it became apparent that Matt wasn't going to fold and slink away, Haskell motioned for assistance from his companions. Matt was between Katie and the doorway, his back to the rear of the room. He was not in position to see the other man, the one who had been sitting alone, rise and move toward the counter. He did not take an active

role in the confrontation, but rather leaned against one of the supporting beams in a casual manner while observing the situation. While Katie watched in fearful fascination, the man carefully, deliberately placed his right hand on the butt of his gun. Now that he was closer Katie could tell he was a stranger, probably just passing through, for his clothes were covered with dust and his lean tanned face bore several days growth of beard. He was tall, around six feet one, with broad shoulders and a powerful, well muscled body, but while Wade Haskell saw the warning in his movements, Katie was suddenly not afraid. He meant Matt no harm. On the contrary, he was giving the cowboys a subtle, but very clear warning. A warning Katie saw Wade Haskell recognize with one glance. The cowboy's face went slightly pale as he licked at his lips for a moment while he sized up the stranger. The man's face bore a calm, almost bored expression, but the way his eyes maintained a steady exchange with Haskell's and the way he wore his gun low on his hip, tied down with a black leather thong told the cowboy he knew how to use it. Haskell read the message the stranger was sending him clearly. He cleared his throat, then swung his attention back to Matt. "You've been warned, Wainwright. Whatever happens now will be on your head. Remember that." With a furtive jerk of his head to his companions, he hurried past Katie through the store into the street. When Katie looked back at the stranger, he had re-taken his seat in the rear of the store. He was sipping at the whiskey as though nothing had happened, but when he felt Katie's curious gaze, he looked up beneath the shadow of the dark hat to meet it. He made no acknowledgment of interceding on Matt's behalf, just a barely perceptible nod before dropping his attention back to the drink in his hand. Moments later after Matt had loaded his family and supplies into the wagon and driven up the street, the stranger finished his drink and left the saloon. The group of cowboys gave him a wide berth as he gathered up the reins to a weary black stallion tied in front, but their angry conversation reached him clearly. Without any indication that he noticed or cared what they said, he urged the black into a canter, heading up the street. He glanced back over his shoulder at the end of the street. His lips tightened into thin lines when he saw the band of riders mount up and turn their horses in the same direction the Wainwright family had taken.

The man reined the black around, changed direction, and propelled the animal into a dead run as he cut through the edge of town. In seconds he was in open country flying along the trail through the prairie. Matt Wainwright looked back when his young son informed him of the rider who was rapidly approaching. By the time Matt had pulled the team to a halt, the man had reached them. He met Matt's startled gaze squarely while motioning behind him. "Mr. Wainwright, those men you tangled with in town have decided to even the score. I'd advise you to get your family behind the wagon." He nodded toward the carbine resting at Matt's side. "Can you use that?" Matt glanced at the gun, then back at the stranger skeptically. "Only for hunting. I've never lifted a gun to another human being and I have no intentions of starting now." A slight cynical smile touched the man's face, then it was gone, replaced with indifference. "Well then, Mr. Wainwright, you better get ready to die because those men don't have your ethics." Matt's heavy brows drew together in concern. He stared at the man for a moment, trying to decide what to do. "How do I know you're telling the truth? You could be one of Fletcher's men too, for all I know." "Mr. Wainwright, if I was one of Fletcher's men wanting to kill you, you'd be dead." His voice was calm, level, and the ring of truth in it made Matt think. "How do I know you can be trusted?" Impatience flashed across the man's dark face. He turned in the saddle, listening intently for the sound of approaching riders, then looked back at Matt. "You don't, but you've got less than a minute to decide, Mr. Wainwright. By that time eight men are going to be on top of us. Now make up your mind. Are you going to fight or not?" Matt's eyes flashed to Katie's troubled face, but she was staring up at the man on the black horse. After exchanging a long silent stare into the fascinating pair of eyes beneath the dark brimmed hat, she put a shaky hand on Matt's forearm. "He's telling the truth, Matthew. You can trust him." It was an odd thing to say, the man thought to himself, but it sent Wainwright into action. For such a big man he moved with amazing speed, leaping down from the seat to lift both his children out, one under each arm. Katie jumped out behind them and knelt beneath the wagon, holding the children close.

By the time Matt had jerked the rifle from its place in the wagon, the band of riders was upon them. They came in fast with guns drawn, like a cavalry charge, yelling at the top of their lungs. While Katie watched from beneath the cover of the wagon, the stranger on the black whirled the animal around, pulling the rifle from the boot on his saddle at the same time. Without taking time to aim, he fired from the hip, flipping the lever of the Winchester .44-.40 so quickly the resulting shots seemed like echoes of the first rather than separate rounds. The oncoming riders scattered, circled for another attack, but it didn't take them long to decide they were out gunned. They had expected surprise and numbers to be their advantage, not an entrenched rebuff. They turned to flee without hitting anything but air, but their opponent was more successful. When they scurried back to town to lick their wounds, three of them lay dead in the settling dust. As the hoofbeats died into the distance, Matt rose from his position behind the wagon to walk forward to inspect the bodies. He turned back, pale and shaken. The man on the black horse dismounted and pushed his hat back while Katie and the children hesitantly came out of hiding. "That was some shooting, mister!" Dane exclaimed with wide eyes. "Dane, hush!" Katie scolded as she pulled the youngster back before he could escape to look at the bodies. "I'm sorry you and the children had to see that, Mrs. Wainwright." His voice was respectful, almost soft. Katie kept staring at him, unable to break the contact with those clear fascinating eyes that were now visible beneath the brim of the dark Stetson. The man's brows raised in puzzlement at her strange behavior, but he did not have time to dwell on the curious way she was looking at him because Matt had returned. "Dane's right, that was some shooting," Matt said quietly. "Three dead and you weren't even aiming. That's better than good." The man shrugged as he turned to slide the rifle back into place on his saddle. He would have mounted and ridden away without further conversation had not Matt stepped forward and thrust out his hand. "I probably owe you my life, mister. Thanks. My name's Matt Wainwright." The man turned from the horse and slowly took Matt's offered hand. "Mine's Tulane." Matt's face instantly paled, then he continued shaking his benefactor's hand. "The Tulane from the 2nd Cavalry, Arizona Territory?" "That's right," Tulane answered curtly. His voice tightened but his

features were unchanged except for a hard glint that flickered in the depths of his blue-gray eyes "That explains the shooting," Matt remarked without appearing to notice the thinly veiled guard Tulane had thrown up around himself. "I imagine a man doesn't live long in Arizona without learning to shoot like that, what with all the Apache trouble." "That's mostly over with now," Tulane replied in a less strained tone. It seemed to Katie that he let out a sigh of relief when Matt did not comment further on his identity. She wondered why the man's name had obviously rung a bell with her husband when she had never heard it. Still, she had the uneasy feeling that they had met somewhere. She racked her brain trying to place him but was at a loss to remember having ever seen him before today. She was roused from her thoughts when Matt turned to her and brought her forward with the sweep of one brawny arm. "This is my wife, Katherine, and my son Dane, and that little princess hiding behind her mother's skirt is my daughter Glenna." "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Tulane said politely to Katie as he tipped his hat. Turning his attention back to Matt, his face sobered, his gaze holding Matt's squarely. "Mr. Wainwright, you've got a real nice family. Maybe you ought to give a little more thought to Fletcher's threats. If this incident is any example, you could be putting them in real danger by staying around." Matt's face tensed as his big shoulders squared beneath the flannel work shirt. "Tulane, I bought my farm from Ben Fletcher six years ago. I paid good money for it just like my friends and neighbors did and it'll take more than a polecat like his dandified son to run me off it." For an instant Tulane almost smiled at Matt's flare of temper, but then his face became solemn again. He turned and mounted the black stallion in one fluid motion, then reined the animal around so he was facing Matt. Even on foot Matt stood above eye level with the horse. His face was set, determined. "Then I hope you're prepared to pay the price, Mr. Wainwright, because it'll be a high one. Probably higher than you could imagine." "What do you mean by that?" Matt questioned. Though Tulane's voice was firm, Matt heard no threat in it. "Because Fletcher's hiring someone to kill you. Did you know that?" Matt's heavy brows arched in surprise. "No, but it doesn't surprise me much. He said he'd do whatever was necessary to drive us off the land and

hiring a gunman is something Justin would do. This man he's hired...do you know his name?" "How would I know that?" Tulane countered. "You know a lot about this situation, Tulane," Matt replied firmly. "A lot more than you're admitting. And you involved yourself in my problems when it's no concern of yours. I'm curious just how much you really know about Justin's plans." Tulane seemed to reflect on Matt's insightful observation for a moment, then gave a slight shrug. "Eight against one didn't seem like very fair odds to me. That's all. Nothing terribly hard to understand about that." "And what about Fletcher?" "He's hired two men to kill you if they can't drive you out. One's Jake Stoddard." "And the other?" Matt persisted, scowling. "The other's changed his mind." It took a minute for Katie to realize what he meant. By then he was moving past Matt. Suddenly she leaped forward to catch the bridle. The big horse snorted and slung his head in alarm, dancing backwards until Tulane reined him around. Katie was still holding the bridle, unaware that she had moved from the spot by Matt's side until the curious way Tulane's brows raised made her realize what she had done. Fully embarrassed and feeling foolish, she let go of the bridle and stepped away. "It will be dark in a couple of hours. Come home with us for supper. You can spend the night too. I'm sure you'd like a hot bath and some good food." "That's not necessary," Tulane said politely. "But it is," she contradicted quickly as a blush crept into her cheeks. "You risked your own life for perfect strangers today. The least you can do is accept the offer of our hospitality." Tulane studied her quiet, understated beauty in silence while he debated with himself. He could have made five thousand dollars by disposing of Matt Wainwright with one simple bullet. Instead he had put himself on the opposite side by coming to the farmer's aid. That put him at odds with Jake Stoddard, he thought grimly. That was nothing new, was it? He and Jake had been at odds with each other since the war. He observed the midnight blue eyes of the delicate, feminine woman in the gingham dress. Blue was certainly her color, he thought, mildly surprised at himself for even noticing how the baby blue dress set off her

enchanting blue eyes and glowing complexion. Katie Wainwright was probably close to his own age of thirty-five, he judged. Her honey-beige colored hair was swept up into a French braid in the back, and he wondered fleetingly how she would look with it loose and flowing softly around her shoulders. Then he shook himself mentally, grinding his teeth in irritation. The last thing he needed was to admire how beautiful Katherine Wainwright was, he reminded himself sharply. Yet it was impossible not to see the beauty in the lush curves of her body or the sensuality in the depths of those luminescent blue eyes. "All right, Mrs. Wainwright, if you insist," he was surprised to hear himself say. "I'll be along in a bit, soon as I've taken care of this," he added with a gesture at the three bodies in the trail. "I'll give you a hand." "That's not necessary, Mr. Wainwright. It's better if you take your family on home." Matt nodded. "Fine, fine, we'll be expecting you then," he boomed in a hearty voice. "Just continue on this trail about five more miles, Tulane. Turn right where the river bends. You can't miss my place." Tulane nodded almost absently, for his eyes were still locked with Katie's in a strange mystical way. He saw a fearfulness flash through her, momentary yet very powerful. She bit her bottom lip in child-like bewilderment while she stared into his expressive mosaic eyes. His eyes were a combination of silver gray and azure blue, always changing, always different, but frighteningly familiar. She forced herself to look away, wishing so simple an act would break the spell she was under, yet knowing in her heart that was asking too much. How could it be, she thought and suddenly knew that her worst fear had been realized. Tulane was the man in the dreams that haunted her sleep, refusing to let her rest, tormenting her with sensual needs that were foreign to her. So why, knowing that this dark, dangerous stranger was the same man who lifted her to unbelievable heights of ecstasy in her dreams, did she insist he come home with them for supper? That was like inviting the wolf into the chicken coop, she thought incredulously. Still, when she glanced back into his face momentarily before he tipped his hat politely as he moved past her, she felt exhilarated, like a girl again. There was no mistaking the curious admiration in his eyes just now. He was as intrigued with her as she was with him, but there was also an

underlying sense of safety, as though her family had just been placed under the wing of a guardian angel. It was a strange combination of emotions, she thought in confusion. She knew this man was dangerous. The three dead cowboys he'd left in the dirt was evidence of that. From his appearance and the ease with which he handled himself, it was obvious he was accustomed to violence and did not fear it. She also suspected that he was the second man Justin had sent for with the intention of running them off their land, until something changed his mind, made him take their side against Fletcher. She wondered what had brought on this change of intention, but she was only fooling herself, she thought anxiously. She knew what had changed Tulane's mind even if he didn't. That was what frightened her. She believed with all her might that her dreams never lied, but while Tulane's presence might a hardship for her battered emotions, he was just what they needed to keep Fletcher's hounds at bay. Now if she could only convince Matt so he in turn could convince Tulane. CHAPTER THREE "Who is he, Matthew? Who is Tulane?" Katie asked her husband when they continued their journey toward home. "How do you know him?" "I don't know him, Katie," Matt answered quietly after a backward glance to see if the children were listening. Satisfied they were occupied with other things, he bent his head closer to hers to explain. "I've never met him before today. I just know him by reputation. He's a hired killer, Katie. He sells his gun to the highest bidder. He's quite well known in the southwestern part of the country." "A hired killer?" Katie echoed. "Then Justin did hire him." "Or tried to," Matt corrected with a tight grin. "I don't know what changed his mind about working for Justin, but I sure am glad he did. He's a very dangerous man. I don't like the idea of having him around the children." Katie patted Matt's arm. "You needn't worry about that, Matthew. No matter what he is or what he's done, he means us no harm. Especially the children." Matt grinned at her fondly, then took the reins in one hand so he could

wrap the other arm around her slender shoulders and draw her closer on the wagon seat. "You're sure of that, are you?" Following her affirmative nod, he gave a short nod. "All right, if you say so I believe it. You've never been wrong about these things yet, have you?" "No, Matthew, and I'm not wrong about Tulane. His coming to us is a blessing. You'll see," she predicated. "We've been praying for some way out of this trouble with Justin Fletcher and I believe God has answered our prayers." "With a hired gunman? Somehow I doubt that God wants us to kill Justin to solve the problem, Katie." "Perhaps not," she agreed quietly. "But Tulane could certainly even up the odds." "Katie, are you suggesting we hire Tulane?" Katie nodded. Seeing Matt's quick disapproval, she lifted a gentle hand to touch his lips. "Hear me out, Matthew. I'm not suggesting we hire him to kill Justin Fletcher, but for our protection only. We're entitled to protection, aren't we? We know there won't be any from the law. It's up to us and we've just been handed the means with which to do it. We'd be fools to turn it down." "Even if I agreed with you, Katie, we don't have the money it takes to hire a man like that. Good protection, to use your terms, isn't cheap." "It wouldn't hurt to discuss it with him, would it?" Katie persisted with a wise smile. Matt studied her, then a warm smile flashed to his face. "I have a feeling that you already know what the outcome of that discussion will be, Katie, my girl. However, if the subject should arise at supper I might propose the idea to him. Just in theory, of course." "Of course, Matthew," Katie agreed with a warm smile as she snuggled closer to his side. Protected from Matt's sight by his massive shoulder, she shuddered as the smile quickly disappeared to be replaced with anxiety, anxiety caused not by the thought that Tulane might turn down Matt's offer, but rather created by the knowledge that he would accept it. She wanted the farm and those of their neighbors safe from Fletcher, but how long could she pretend these unfamiliar stirrings of desire did not exist? It was a no-win situation it seemed, but after a glance at the children, she was certain it was a chance she had to take if they were to salvage anything at all. It was worth any risk because she was suddenly absolutely certain that Matt's life depended on it.

Later that afternoon, Tulane emerged from the room in the barn where Matt had shown him he could put his things before washing up for supper. Katie wondered at first if this was the same man who had come to their aid earlier. As she filled the basin beside the kitchen door with warm water, then waited for him and Matt to wash their hands before entering the house, she was amazed at the difference a bath, shave, and a change of clothing had brought about in the man. In place of the rough beard was a lean, ruggedly handsome face; darkskinned with high cheekbones and a classic nose. His mouth was full, but the lips seemed tight, as though he was on guard all the time. He had a distinctly sensual face, she decided uneasily, due mostly to the gray-blue eyes that revealed a good deal more than he intended. As he bent to wash his hands in the warm water, Katie managed to smile in greeting. "You look refreshed, Christopher. I hope you like fried chicken." Tulane's dark head snapped up in surprise, his gaze searching her face. Then realizing what she'd called him, her cheeks colored slightly. "I hope you'll forgive me for being so forward. Does my using your Christian name offend you?" she murmured. He shook his head, but the surprise on his face brought a chuckle from Matt as he handed Tulane a towel. "No, ma'am, it just surprises me a little. Not many people know my Christian name. It's been a long time since I've heard it used." "It seems rather foolish to keep calling us Mr. and Mrs., Tulane. I'm Matt and this is Katie," Matt suggested with a grin. He glanced at his wife mischievously while she took the towel from Tulane and folded it neatly. "One thing you'll have to get used to around here, Tulane, is that Katie often knows things without any explanation. It's a little strange at first, but you'll get used to it." Tulane's gaze flashed from Matt back to Katie, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the blush on her cheeks. "You mean you just knew my first name? You've never heard it before?" "I'm afraid so," Katie admitted, embarrassed. "Matthew's right about that. I often know things I can't explain. I just know." Then before he could respond, she turned into the house and indicated the chair at the opposite end of the dining table from where Matt was taking a seat. Tulane took the chair and waited, instinct telling him the Wainwright family always said grace before meals. When the blessing was offered in Matt's deep sincere voice, the family began to eat. While enjoying crisp fried chicken with all the

trimmings, Tulane made a subtle inspection of the Wainwright home. In addition to the kitchen, he could see a large parlor dominated by a gleaming cherry wood piano. Peach floral chintz curtains fluttered at the open windows in the parlor as the late afternoon sun sank behind the horizon. The wing chairs and camelback sofa were of good quality, the needlepoint rug on the floor obviously a labor of love. From the soft muted color scheme to the heavy cherry wood furniture and blue and white willoware china, the house reflected Katie's personality and charm. It was a comfortable home, Tulane decided immediately. Once the first awkward moments had passed he gradually relaxed to let himself really enjoy the delicious food and pleasant surroundings. Dane and Glenna had already eaten and been put to bed he discovered, finding himself a bit disappointed. When the meal was finished Katie rose to take the dishes, leaving him alone with Matt. Matt offered a box of cigars. After Tulane accepted one and lit it from Matt's match, he leaned back in the chair and waited for his host to speak. "What did you do with the bodies?" Matt asked, trying to appear casual. "I took them to town, left them with the undertaker. I expect Fletcher knows about it by now." Matt fidgeted in his chair, then glanced toward the kitchen window where Katie was washing dishes. He felt uneasy, awkward, and wished she would hurry up and join them. "I hate guns…violence," he muttered, more to himself than Tulane. "I fail to understand why men can't solve their problems in peaceful ways instead of always reaching for a gun." A half smile touched Tulane's lips when Matt's coffee colored gaze paused on the gunbelt that rested around his waist. He knew the gun made Wainwright uncomfortable. "Most men find a gun quicker than a lot of meaningless small talk," he commented dryly. "Greedy men like Justin Fletcher maybe," Matt grunted between puffs on the cigar clamped between his teeth. "Tell me something, Tulane. Why did you kill those men today? You're an excellent shot, it wouldn't have been hard for you to just wound them. You didn't have to kill them." Tulane shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes narrowed. He got to his feet and walked to the front door that stood open to catch the last rays of the dying sun. As Katie dried her hands on a dish towel and turned to enter the parlor where Matt had led Tulane, she caught sight of the gunman filling the

doorway with the evening darkness beginning to creep into the room. He turned back to answer Matt's question, appearing not to notice her presence, but Katie shivered in spite of herself. Standing in the open doorway in the gathering darkness, he looked exactly as he did in her numerous dreams; dark, forbidding, yet oddly exciting. "Would you merely wound a lobo wolf?" Tulane was asking Matt. "There's a big difference between a man and a wild animal," Matt grunted in reply. "Is there? Not in men like Fletcher or the men who ride for him. I learned a very long time ago that when a man shoots at you, you kill him before he gets off a second shot." Tulane's voice was cold, hostile, his eyes bright with hidden thoughts as he drew on the cigar, then exhaled heavily. "Katie thinks I should offer you a job, Tulane," Matt said with a faint smile as he glanced at his wife coming into the room to perch on the arm of his chair. Tulane's dark brows rose in surprise. "Doing what, raising wheat? That's not exactly my line of work," he grunted. "No, Christopher, farming was not what I had in mind," Katie said confidently. "I thought we might persuade you to stay on here to protect us from Fletcher." She paused, watching his face intently, then gathered her wits and continued. "You've already made an enemy of him by siding with us today. If you stay around, it won't make Justin very happy." "You want me to kill him?" Tulane asked her softly, smiling at the shock that leaped into her face. "No, of course not! Only protect us from him. The law won't touch him no matter what he does. We already know that. He's determined to drive us off our land and as you saw today he'll go to any lengths to get what he wants." "You said you bought this land from his father," Tulane said to Matt. Katie sighed with relief when he turned his attention from her. She drew a deep breath as she unclenched her hands, not realizing she had balled them into fists until that moment. "Yes, and paid a fair price for it too," Matt was saying. "I have a proper deed, so do all the others, but now the government says it's not worth the paper it's written on." "Why's that?" "Justin's paid off the officials in Helena, that's why," Matt growled.

"The past two years have been hard on him, Tulane. The drought all but ruined him. Then last winter we had more snow than usual. When it melted this spring, it overflowed the river banks, made it change course." "And your farm sits right in the bend of the only water supply big enough to water his herds now. Right?" Matt nodded in agreement. "That's it exactly." He rose to his feet and made an uneasy gesture with his big hands. "I'm no gunman, Tulane, you saw that for yourself. If you hadn't taken my side those men would've killed me today. "Look, I don't want you to kill anybody. But you must see that I'm no match for Fletcher's gunmen. I'm not afraid to die. I'm not even so worried about myself, but I am worried about Katie and the kids. This job Katie mentioned would be protecting them, that's all." Tulane smiled thinly and exhaled. He studied Matt's broad, honest face for a moment, then let his gaze drift back to Katie. She sat on the arm of the peach colored chair gripping the back so tightly her knuckles had turned pale. "Matt, you don't hire a killer and then tell him not to kill. If I were to consider this job it would have to be on my terms." "Which are?" Matt asked, surprised the gunman would even consider the idea. "I'll protect your family, Matt, if that's what you want. But if I have to kill Fletcher or Stoddard in the process, I don't want any guilty remorse from any of you. I'll do what you want, but I'll do it my own way." His voice was calm, as though he was discussing the weather, soft, without emotion. Matt considered his statement, staring into those smoky eyes without flinching. "What's your price?" he asked slowly with an uncomfortable glance at Katie. Katie felt Tulane's gaze touch her briefly even though she would not look up. "A warm place to sleep and Katherine's good cooking seems a fair price," he said with a half smile. Matt looked surprised as he exchanged glances with Katie again. "That's all?" Tulane nodded as the last embers of sunlight caught the lighter streaks in his deep mahogany hair. The tight lines in his face eased when he smiled. "To a man who hasn't had either one for a long time, it sounds like a lot." Katie was both relieved and fearful as Matt and Tulane shook hands

to seal the bargain. Then Matt's face became serious, almost uneasy. Tulane waited for him to speak, but Matt seemed unable to voice his questions. "Go ahead, Matt, ask me about Arizona. That's what is on your mind, isn't it?" he prompted in a strange, quiet voice that made Katie's head snap up in curiosity. "I don't mean any offense, Tulane," Matt stammered, red-faced now. "But since you'll be around my wife and kids a lot in the next few days, I feel like I ought to...Well, what I want to know is...the stories about you...they say that you..." Tulane's eyes became bleak, his lips twisting into thin lines of contempt. "That I what, Matt? Killed my wife? Yes, it's true. I killed her, but not for the reasons you might think." The coldness in his voice made Katie shiver, but she felt the pain behind his words. She rose quickly to her feet and crossed the room to lay a quiet hand on his arm. She felt him tense when she touched him, then saw the bright light of despair flicker, then fade in the depths of his expressive eyes. "It's not important, Christopher," she heard herself say in a soothing tone. "What is important is that you're here. Without you to protect Matthew and my children, we wouldn't have much hope. So you see, what happened in the past doesn't matter to us. It's the present that is important." Tulane stared at her in silence, unsure if he had heard her correctly. Studying those clear blue eyes, he saw the sincerity beyond the surface, the gentle warmth of this woman who it seemed could look right past the barriers of arrogance and coldness he threw up around himself. He drew away from her hand on his arm, suddenly uneasy in her presence. He hadn't been this touched by a woman in a long time. It was a feeling he did not know exactly how to deal with. "Thank you, Katherine," he said in a very soft voice. "I won't let you down." Katie met his intense gaze squarely for the first time, lifting her head and forcing a smile to her stiff lips. "I know you won't, Christopher. I have every confidence in you." CHAPTER FOUR Katie knew riders were approaching long before she heard the

hoofbeats. An expression of concern knitted her delicately shaped brows as she placed a hand on Matt's arm. "Matthew, there are horses coming up the road, several of them." "Are you expecting company?" Tulane asked Matt while they both turned toward the open door. "No." "Then it'll be Fletcher most likely." Tulane moved quickly into the yard, crossing the open space between the white clapboard house and the barn which sat a few hundred feet beyond the white picket fence. Within moments he returned carrying his rifle, then waited at the gate for their visitors. In seconds three horses reined to a halt before the fence and though Matt was standing at Tulane's shoulder, the spokesman of the group addressed the gunman. "What's the idea of killing three of my men, Tulane?" Justin Fletcher demanded from his perch on a snow-white Arabian. "I asked you to come up here and work for me and the next thing I know you've killed my men and sided with Wainwright. Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Tulane regarded the rancher, while he sized up the man. Justin Fletcher was in his early thirties, with wavy auburn hair and a pencil thin mustache. He was dressed elegantly in a dark blue suit with a matching silk vest and starched white shirt. His string tie fluttered in the light breeze. He was not wearing a gun, Tulane noted for future reference, but his companion was. "The boss asked you a question, Tulane. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue or is it the Apaches maybe?" The voice was cold, smug with arrogance as were his icy blue eyes. "Evening, Jake," Tulane drawled. "Nice night for a ride, isn't it? I accepted your invitation to come up and look at the situation, Mr. Fletcher. Having done that, I've decided I don't want to work for you." Fletcher's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment while he tried to overcome the anger that made him speechless. When he had time to gather his wits he saw a man who not only had betrayed his confidence, but who was obviously enjoying it. Tulane stood casually with legs slightly spaced, the Winchester hanging loosely across his arms, but the smoky eyes that watched him told Fletcher that the man was anything but relaxed. Everything about Tulane warned him that one false move would be disastrous. "I'm warning you, Tulane," Fletcher spat. "I'm willing to overlook

what happened this morning, but this is your last chance." "I appreciate your generosity, Mr. Fletcher, but it's not necessary. You see, I've already found another job. Mr. Wainwright made me a very good offer and I've decided to accept it." "You're taking Wainwright's side against me?" Fletcher asked incredulously. "Why, for God's sake? He can't begin to pay the kind of money you're used to. What's he got to offer you that I can't?" "I doubt you'd understand it if I bothered to explain it. Let's just say that I enjoy a challenge and let it go at that." Fury flooded through Justin. The veins in his neck bulged with outrage while he stared at Tulane in disbelief. "All right, damn you! You've made your bed, now you'll have to make the best of it. I've still got Jake. I don't need you!" Tulane's eyes flashed again to Jake Stoddard's face. Even in the rising moonlight Stoddard still reminded him of a weasel with his narrow, bleak eyes and hawkish nose. "It'll take more than Jake to run Wainwright off his land. You want a fight, Mr. Fletcher, you've got one. Just let me make one thing crystal clear to you. You make one move against this man or his family and I'll be coming for you." "Then you'll have to come through me," Jake Stoddard announced. "I was hoping you'd say that, Jake. I'm looking forward to it," Tulane returned calmly. His eyes moved to the third member of the group. So this is Taryn Fletcher, he thought to himself with an inward smile. She sure looks nothing like her brother. As he stared at the slim, lithe girl mounted between her brother and the gunman, she smiled and tipped her hat to him. "Mr. Tulane, I'm so disappointed. I've heard such lovely things about you. I had such high hopes for your visit and now you've gone and disappointed me." The sugary sarcasm in her voice made Tulane smile in spite of himself. Taryn Fletcher was dressed like a man in denims and a loose flannel shirt tucked into a wide leather belt, but there was no mistaking the sultry invitation in those inky dark eyes. She returned his gaze with open admiration, letting her gaze travel the length of him slowly before coming back to rest on his face. "Taryn, for God's sake! Can't you act like a lady for once?" Justin snapped at her. Taryn turned a cool, sarcastic smile to him and shook her head. The

waves of coal black hair fanned out around her shoulders beneath the Stetson with the motion before her sultry gaze returned to Tulane. "Now, why would I want to do a thing like that, Justin? Being a lady is so-o-oboring," she added with a meaningful glance at Katie's pale features in the doorway of the house. "And you know how I hate to be bored, don't you?" "As for you, Wainwright, you're time is running out sooner than you think," Justin declared to Matt. "Hiding behind a hired killer won't keep me from getting what's mine, so be warned. I'm running out of patience." "I've told you before, Justin. I'm not letting you steal what belongs to me. This is my land. The only way you'll take it away from me is to kill me," Matt returned confidently. "You try stringing that barbed wire along the river and it's your funeral!" Fletcher snapped. He started to turn his horse, then had another thought. As he pulled the white stallion back to Matt for a parting remark, his eyes went past Matt to Katie in the doorway. She was clearly defined by the lights from inside the parlor, each curve and valley silhouetted in the growing darkness. Even from that distance she heard the heat in Justin's voice, felt it in his eyes, and though his statement was addressed to Matt, she knew it was meant for her. "Katie is a beautiful woman, Matt, and much too young to be left a widow for long. If you're fool enough to get yourself killed over a few acres of ground, be my guest. I'll be only too happy to bury you, but know that once you're gone, I'll take real good care of Katie for you." Matt tensed as he started forward, his intentions plain on his face, but Tulane's hand stilled him. "Not now, Matt. This isn't the time," Tulane said quietly. "Better listen to him, Wainwright," Stoddard sneered. "But take my advice and don't leave him alone with your wife and kids. The last time he was alone with his own, they all got dead." Tulane's facial expression did not change but his voice was filled with icy fury. "Before this is over, Jake, I'm going to kill you," he said softly. His smoky gaze locked with Stoddard's in an unwavering expression of intense hatred. "Apache style, so it'll take you days to die. Remember, Jake? Sure you do, and you also remember that there's nobody better at it than I am." Stoddard's snake-like tongue darted out to touch his lips. The quiet, confident tone of Tulane's voice brought to mind some long forgotten memories. Things Jake did not want to remember. His hand twitched with the desire to reach for his gun, but one glance at Tulane's glittering eyes

made him think better of it. "There'll be a time, Tulane, just you and me. Then we'll see just who's the best man, won't we?" he sneered, but his voice lacked the sting he'd hoped for. "Honestly!" Taryn Fletcher declared impatiently. "Such hostility! Can't you boys think of more pleasant things to do besides killing each other?" She tossed her head, the long black mane flowing around her shoulders. She looked once more at Tulane. "I, for one, would much rather spend my time in more pleasant pursuits. If you should decide that this domestic life is too boring, please let me know, Tulane. I'm certain I could devise something to liven up your life." With a burst of laughter at her brother's obvious embarrassment, she whirled her horse and rode off into the gathering darkness. Behind her, Justin threw Matt a parting scowl, then followed her, muttering to himself. As Jake Stoddard began to turn also, Tulane reached out to catch the bridle. Jake's face twisted with anger when he realized the barrel of the Winchester was staring him straight in the face. "Remember how we found that Mexican family, Jake, after the Apaches got through with them?" Tulane taunted softly, his voice so low that Matt had to strain to hear the words. "Remember what the Apaches did to them? If I were you, Jake, I'd start sleeping with one eye open because one night, when you least expect it, you'll wake up and I'll be there. And when it happens, Jake, you'll beg me to kill you. You've got my word on it." Jake's weasel-like features contorted with a wild combination of fear and hatred as Tulane released the reins so his horse could spin about and take flight. He was almost back to Fletcher's ranch before he stopped shaking. CHAPTER FIVE It was well past midnight when Katie awoke from a restless sleep. She lay still, listening to the comforting sound of Matt's peaceful snores and the far away baying of a wolf. The darkness was filled with the familiar sounds of the farm; chirping crickets in the freshly plowed earth, the soft mooing of the milk cow in the paddock by the farm. She rose silently from the bed and fondly replaced the covers around Matt's sleeping body. She paused to brush back a tendril of sandy brown

hair from his forehead, smiling to herself. It seemed Matt could sleep through anything while she was awakened by the slightest sound. She slipped into her robe and slippers and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders as she moved through the silent house toward the front door. When she stepped into the yard, the light from the full moon overhead lit the area fully, almost as bright as day, but with a softness she found relaxing. Looking toward the corral that surrounded the barn, she saw Tulane leaning against the top rail staring into the darkness. She moved silently across the yard toward him, wondering what she was doing and why. Before she was close enough to touch him, he turned and his brows rose in surprise. She halted beside him and pulled her shawl closer against the chill. Montana was still very cool at night so she was grateful for the warmth against the breeze. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" she asked for lack of anything more original to say. "Couldn't you sleep?" Tulane shook his head as he turned back to place both elbows across the top rail of the corral. Katie stared at him, wondering why she felt so at ease with him suddenly when such a short time ago she was shaky just being in the same room with him. It was the moonlight, she decided. It cast a peacefulness over everything, even the handsome, dangerous man beside her. Her eyes flicked over him, noting the wide shoulders and narrow waist, the long legs which were spread slightly apart as he leaned on the fence. The light wind ruffled his hair, lifted it, then replaced it in soft layers that lessened his formidable demeanor. He was wearing a red shirt tucked into black trousers that fit snugly, outlining the muscular contours of his body. His handsome face was troubled. There was a deep unrest in him, something that drove him, refused to let him rest, but she was at a loss to know exactly what it was. Then he turned to look down at her and she blushed, feeling foolish for having been caught staring so blatantly. She looked away hurriedly, remembering Taryn Fletcher's open invitation earlier, wondering if he took it as seriously as Taryn meant it. "You've known Jake Stoddard a long time," she commented in an effort to break the uneasy silence. He nodded in agreement, but he was staring out across the fields now. "Too long."

"Since the army in Arizona?" "Since long before that," Tulane answered with a nonchalant shrug Katie knew was deceptive. He was anything but nonchalant about Jake Stoddard, she'd known at once. "I see," she murmured, realizing he was not going to reveal his past relationship with the man. She did not know quite what to say so they stood in silence for a time, but Katie was strangely comfortable now. She sensed he was grateful for her company, as though her presence kept him from unpleasant thoughts. "Justin Fletcher wants this land all right, but that isn't his only motive for wanting Matt dead," Tulane said then, rousing her from her thoughts. "What do you mean?" A thin smile touched his lips as he glanced at her again, his eyes lingering on her face this time. "I may not have your gift of insight, Katherine, but it doesn't require a lot of intelligence to see that his reasons are more personal than mere land. He wants you, and he intends to kill Matt if he has to, in order to have you." "How could you know that?" She looked away from him, unable to return the intuitive expression on his face. "He wrote me in Texas to come up here and work for him, but his letter didn't say anything about running Matt off the land. He wanted to hire me to kill him, plain and simple, and tonight I found out why." "Justin Fletcher is a fool!" Katie said scornfully. "I've told him repeatedly that I have no intention of becoming involved with him in any respect." "He's a hard man to convince. Matt doesn't know about any of this, does he?" Katie's honey-beige hair floated in the wind when she shook her head. When she finally looked back into Tulane's face, she blushed and dug her nails into the rail to keep from running back to the house like a frightened child. The curiosity in his eyes was all too apparent. A shiver of excitement ran through her as she met his steady gaze. His eyes had changed from gray-blue to deep silver in the moonlight. Katie wondered if he realized how clearly they expressed his emotions. "No, of course he doesn't," she managed to say finally. "If he had any idea how Justin feels about me something terrible would happen." "Something terrible is going to happen anyway," Tulane said, his expression grim. "But that's why you hired me, isn't it? To make sure the terrible things happen to Fletcher."

Katie did not know how to respond to that statement so she said nothing. She pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders and picked absently at a splinter in the rail. "What made you change your mind about working for Justin?" she asked at last. Tulane shrugged. "After I saw your family in the store and realized Matt was the man Fletcher wanted me to kill....." His voice trailed off for a moment, then he shrugged again. "I don't know why exactly. I guess I didn't like the way Fletcher's men tried to brace him. Killing a man is one thing; killing him in front of his family is quite another." "Is taking the life of another human being so cut and dried, Christopher? Is it as simple as you make it sound?" Tulane looked surprised, as though he'd never considered the thought. "Yeah, I guess it is, to me at least." Then noting the concern that sprang to her face, he added, "Why does that surprise you, Katherine? I'm sure Matt's told you about me. It's no secret. I kill people, that's what I do, for whoever can pay me the most." "How many men have you killed, Christopher?" she asked quietly. "I can't say," Tulane grunted. "I stopped counting a long time ago." He smiled thinly at Katie's expression of disbelief, his eyes narrowing at the shock on her face. "Matthew heard that you've killed a lot of Indians. Does the number of people you've killed include Indians, Christopher?" she challenged in a firm voice while her gaze locked with his in a silent duel of wills. "Indians don't count, Katherine. They're not human." "How can you say that?" she cried. "Every human being on this earth counts for something and that includes Indians." "That's easy for you to say," he returned with stinging coolness. "You haven't seen what I have. You don't know what the Apaches can do. Most of all, you don't know how they enjoy it." "When did you become such an expert on Indian affairs?" "When my regiment had to go out and bring in the bodies of their victims, or at least what was left of them," he answered sarcastically. His eyes narrowed, became cold with hatred. Katie backed away, alarmed at what she saw in his eyes. "I've buried children younger than your own, Katherine, that had been hacked to death for fun, and women that had been raped to death, and men that had been skinned alive. That's how I know what the Apache is. God knows I'll never forget it." He turned away, overcome suddenly for having bared too much.

After a moment he felt Katie's gentle touch on his shoulder, persuasive, insistent he turn back to face her. He did so reluctantly, touched by the tears that gleamed in her eyes. He resisted the urge to wipe them from her cheek, gripping the rail of the corral instead. "I'm sorry, Christopher," she murmured sincerely. She searched his face to find the pain beneath all the bitterness, wishing she could erase it and give him the peace he so desperately sought. "Forgive me for making judgments about things I know nothing about." He nodded curtly as he drew away from her touch. He felt uncomfortable, anxious. He wished she would go back to the house and leave him alone with his thoughts. He was rotten company at best and after seeing Jake Stoddard, worse than usual. When she did not leave, but stood idly picking at the rough lumber of the corral, he took a deep breath to gather his thoughts, then observed her curiously. "Tell me something, Katherine, why do you look at me so strangely? Have we met somewhere before? Is that why you look at me as though you know me?" Katie blushed profusely, but could not break the mesmerizing contact with those clear multi-colored eyes. "Matthew told you, Christopher, I just know things sometimes. If I look at you strangely it's because I feel I know you already." Tulane had the distinct impression there was a great deal more that she was not revealing, but it was obvious she did not intend to tell him more. She looked nervous. He wondered if she knew how beautiful she was in the moonlight, then cursed himself for noticing. This whole business was insanity, he told himself again. If he had any sense, he'd go to Justin Fletcher tonight and hire on to do what the rancher wanted. But then he'd never been known for his sensibility, he thought ruefully. He felt inexplicably drawn to these people, as though he was predestined to be here, at this time, for some purpose. He'd felt it in the store earlier and even stronger now, here in the moonlight with this captivatingly beautiful women with the honey-beige hair flowing softly around her shoulders. He felt the need to feel her hair sliding through his fingers, to touch the velvet of her lips, then stopped himself short. "It's late, Katherine," he said curtly. "It's time you were in bed." Katie looked disappointed for an instant, then quickly gathered her wits. Pulling the shawl tighter about herself, she bid him a hasty goodnight and scurried back to the house. She slipped soundlessly into bed with Matt once more and snuggled

up to his warmth, but it was a long time before sleep came. She lay awake for hours remembering every detail of those haunting, sensual dreams, going over in her mind every kiss, every touch until she felt flushed. Just before she woke Matt, surprising him by whispering heated love words in his ear, then cutting off his sleepy questions with a passionate kiss, she thought of Tulane, wondering if he was as restless and wakeful as she was, and knowing that he was as puzzled by this day's strange events as she. Justin Fletcher paused outside his sister's room on the second floor of the large, impressive ranch house. The door was closed but he could make out soft, muted sounds that drew his brows together in a black scowl. Gritting his teeth, he flung open the door and stormed inside. The man in Taryn's bed yanked the sheets up to cover his nakedness, his face turning pale when faced with Justin's fury. "Get your clothes on, Haskell, and get the hell out!" Justin grated through clenched teeth. He made no effort to lessen the young cowboy's embarrassment as he hurriedly flung on his clothes and sidled toward the door. "Sorry, Mr. Fletcher," Haskell murmured apologetically. Justin threw him a disgusted glare as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the open doorway. "Just get out, Haskell," he grated, then added, "And keep your mouth shut about this if you value your job here." "Yes sir," Haskell agreed as he slunk into the hallway. Justin slammed the door behind the cowboy's escaping back, then turned on his sister. Taryn lay smugly stretched out on the satin sheets with her hands folded behind her head, smiling at the fury that contorted Justin's handsome features. He stalked to the bed, glaring at her. Her Indian heritage was apparent in her hair and coloring. She was so beautiful it made his eyes hurt to look at her. He yanked a covering sheet up over her lithe, brown body and stood clenching and unclenching his hands while Taryn giggled. "Honestly, Justin, you have the world's worst timing," she purred. "I was having such a good time. You really must remember to knock next time." Justin's face purpled with anger. Before he realized it, he had slapped her hard across the face, but Taryn merely rubbed her cheek and laughed again. "I do hope that made you feel better, dear brother." "You cheap Indian whore!" Justin spat. "Isn't it enough that you've screwed every man on the payroll? Do you have to parade them through my

house too?" "Our house," Taryn corrected him with a smile as she rose from the bed and strode confidently across the room to sit down in front of her vanity mirror to begin brushing her long black hair. She seemed unmindful of her nudity, as though being naked in her brother's presence was a natural state. Gazing at Justin's furious face in the mirror, she smiled again, but the smile did not touch her eyes, for they had narrowed to ebony slits of contempt. "You seem to forget, Justin, that I am a legal heir to dear old daddy's empire too," she reminded him casually. "As much as you hate to admit it, I own just as much of the Circle F as you do." "That doesn't give you the right to prance around the men like a bitch in heat!" Justin retorted in a bit calmer tone. His eyes were drawn to the mirror and Taryn's seductive, primitive beauty. His gaze admired her slim, well rounded curves, her long graceful neck and sloping brown shoulders. Taryn's body was the same rich shade of brown all over. Justin was helpless not to admire such wild, untamed beauty. When he managed to tear his eyes away from the pert swells of her small, firm breasts with their jutting coral tips, he saw the victorious smile on her reflection in the mirror. He swallowed hard and wet his lips with his tongue, grimacing with irritation when she laughed again at his discomfort. "How can I forget it, Taryn, when you constantly remind me?" "As half owner, I have the right to inspect the men when I want," she said with a devilish grin. "Must you do it in such a disgusting, vile manner?" She paused in her brushing and turned to stare at him, enjoying his labored breathing and the sweat that had popped out on his forehead. "Is what I do any more disgusting than what you'd like to do to Matt Wainwright's wife?" "That's a different matter entirely!" "Oh, come on, Justin. Don't pretend that you wouldn't love to have Katie Wainwright's soft white legs open up for you." Before he could protest, she added, "You're so transparent, dear brother. And such a fool. If you want her so bad why don't you act like a man for once and just go take her?" Justin's face colored from her taunting barb as his eyes grew hot with indignation. "What the hell do you think I'm trying to do?" he shot back. "These things have to be done right, that's all. It takes time. I can't just storm the place." "Why don't you just admit that you're scared of Matt Wainwright?

You know he'd take you apart one limb at a time if he had any idea what you're really after." "I'm after what belongs to me!" Justin shouted. "Pa had no right selling off that land! That was my birthright! It's mine and I'll take it back!" "And should Matt Wainwright get killed in the process, then dear, sweet Katie would have no place to turn but to your big strong arms," Taryn suggested with a taunting grin. "Just don't forget, Justin, that half this ranch is mine so that means that half of Wainwright's property is mine as well. And I've decided which part I want for myself." Justin's jade eyes narrowed suspiciously at her last remark. He moved to stand directly behind her, placed both hands on her bare shoulders to grip them tightly. "Just what the hell do you mean by that?" he demanded. Amused speculation danced in Taryn's obsidian eyes while she watched in him the mirror. "Well, it seems something's been added to Wainwright's farm since the last time I paid a visit. Yes, something very interesting." "I assume you're referring to that double crossing gunfighter!" Justin scoffed. Taryn nodded. "But of course, dear brother. What else could Matt Wainwright have that would possibly be of any interest to me?" "I'm warning you, Taryn, stay away from Tulane!" Justin thundered as his fingers sank deeper into the firm flesh of her shoulders. "Don't get yourself all worked up, Justin. I don't intend to bring him home for dinner. However, he has the look of a hungry wolf, a primitive quality I find very attractive in a man." "As long as it has a pecker, it's attractive to you!" "Now, now, dear brother," Taryn teased while she laid aside the brush. Turning to face him, she ran one hand lightly up his leg, her black eyes sparkling upon encountering the erection that tented his trousers. "Don't try to tell me that you don't like the way I am." A fleeting look of anguish touched Justin's face as she continued to gently stroke his expanding flesh. His eyes closed briefly when she loosened his trousers and her hand closed around his throbbing erection. "Dear God," he sighed heavily. "The worst day of my life was the day Pa brought home that Indian slut, except maybe the day a year later when you were born." Taryn's dark head dipped to lightly run her tongue up and down his

rigid flesh. She smiled devilishly at the groan that came from his parted lips. "That Indian slut was his wife, dear brother, remember? Pa saw something he wanted and he took it. What about you, Justin?" she inquired with half-open seductive eyes. "Are you man enough to take what you want?" Justin groaned deep in his throat as he lifted her to her feet. His arms went around her slim body, pulling her naked warmth against him, his mouth crushing hers in a desperate, heated kiss. Taryn smiled to herself as he tore off the remainder of his clothes, then gathered her into his arms to carry her across the room to the bed. Her long brown legs wound around his hips, pulling him into her with a swift, violent thrust. Watching their reflections in the mirror across the room, she met each savage plunge with wild abandonment, stabbing her nails into his back and digging her bare heels into his buttocks. "You really hate me, don't you, Justin?" she asked in a husky voice. "Yes, I despise you," he gasped as his body convulsed in a violent spasm of release. "Dear God, how I hate you!" Then he collapsed beside her, buried his face in the long black strands of her hair and pulled her damp body into his arms. "I hate you, you black-hearted, depraved little slut! But I hate myself worse because I can't help myself." "It's all right, Justin," Taryn crooned softly to him while she stroked his head. Her coal black eyes narrowed to crafty slits as she gazed at their reflection in the mirror. Their naked bodies were still entwined, Justin's pale skin combined with her brown. "If it's any comfort, dear brother, I hate you too," she whispered softly in his ear. "You have no idea how much." CHAPTER SIX After breakfast the following morning Matt proudly showed Tulane the farm. Katie was very reserved during the meal, saying little and keeping her eyes averted from Tulane's handsome face. When he did not mention their conversation of the previous night, she felt relieved, then angry with herself. She had done nothing wrong, she told herself sternly. She had taken a short walk in the cool night air because she couldn't sleep, that's all. He had simply been there. All they had done was talk. It was nothing she could not tell Matt about. So why hadn't she, she asked herself irritably

over and over. Why didn't she just tell him about the meeting instead of keeping it to herself like it was some guilty secret? There was no way of telling from Tulane's veiled expression if he wondered why she did not mention it to Matt. In fact, he hardly paid any attention to her at all during breakfast. He and Matt were engrossed in conversation, practically ignoring her altogether. Tulane nodded with approval as Matt explained his crop scheme while they made a tour of the farm on horseback a short time later. Matt pointed out the farms of the others who had purchased land from Ben Fletcher the same time as he did. Matt's farm was half a section, three hundred and twenty acres of prime river bottom land that lay in the junction of two streams. They dismounted, then Tulane knelt to pick up a handful of the rich earth and let it trickle through his fingers when Matt began to explain the problems with Justin Fletcher. "Ben Fletcher was a hard man, no saint certainly, but he was smart and tough. He came out here forty years ago and took this land from the Sioux. Lost his wife and two other sons to the fever, or so I hear. "Anyway, he got himself in a bind by overstocking his range when the price of beef went down and he had to sell off part of it in order to survive. That's how me and the others came to be here. We never had one minute's worth of trouble with him over it later either, or with Justin for that matter until last year." "That's when the river changed course?" Matt pointed toward the bend in the river where it snaked through the land. "Like I said, we had a lot more snow than usual last winter so when it started melting it overflowed the river. Somehow it changed course. You can see where it used to run a half mile or so beyond the banks now." "When the river changed course it cut through your land and left Fletcher without water." Matt nodded with a sigh. "That's it exactly. Now, with no rain to speak of for the past few months Justin's herds are suffering. That's when he decided to take back the land. "He tried to buy us out, but when that didn't work, he went to Helena and had all the deeds declared invalid. He's a desperate man, Tulane. I feel for him though. I understand what he's up against." Tulane's multi-colored eyes reflected his growing admiration for this big raw-boned man. "Have you thought of some kind of compromise? Maybe sharing the water?"

Matt nodded vigorously as they remounted to begin the trip back to the house. "Sure, I suggested that very thing, but Justin's a proud man. He thinks that anything short of a complete take-over is charity. I know it's stupid; him being ready to kill rather than compromise, but that's how he is. He won't budge." "Most men in Fletcher's position would do the same thing," Tulane commented as he looked at the flat, plowed fields that were just beginning to turn green with the spring wheat crop. "I don't know what else to do but fence what belongs to me. Justin's cows are thirsty; they've started drifting onto my fields already. If I don't get that wire up soon my spring crop will be trampled before hot weather gets here." Matt paused to wipe his brow with a red bandanna and scratch his head. "I never thought he'd stoop to hiring gunmen to do his fighting. It's not Justin's style. Must be Taryn's idea." Tulane's brows raised at the mention of Taryn Fletcher. "Tell me about the sister, Matt," he suggested curiously. Matt shrugged while he put the bandanna away in his hip pocket. "There isn't much to tell. His pa came home with a Sioux squaw when Justin was eleven or twelve. Least that's what I heard. A year or so later Taryn was born. There's never been any love lost between the two of them. "In fact, she's done everything imaginable to embarrass Justin. Once the Secretary Of State came out here on an inspection tour of the forts in the territory and stopped at Justin's for dinner. Well sir, Taryn showed up in war paint and an Indian headdress. Just about scared the Secretary shitless." A wry grin touched Tulane's expressive mouth. Matt's story was no great surprise, for he had sized Justin Fletcher's sister up to be quite a handful. He recalled her suggestive smile the previous evening. She was all woman, all right. Half-female, half wild animal. He'd seen enough Indian girls to know that for a fact. "A half breed," he said, unaware how cold and contemptuous he sounded. Matt looked at him oddly while trying to figure out the bitterness in Tulane's suddenly tense features. "Yeah, I suppose so, but she's a beautiful one." "Beautiful and deadly. One of the most dangerous things alive is an Indian woman." "You say that like you know first hand." "I do," Tulane replied contemptuously. "There was one like that on

the reservation in Arizona. Pretty as a newborn fawn and as mean as a rattlesnake. She ingratiated herself to an old couple that ran the trading post. They felt sorry for her; took her in, fed her, taught her to read and write." His voice turned to ice as his eyes grew bleak with the memory. "My company was sent to look for them after they'd been missing a couple of days. I found them all right, where she'd murdered them in their beds. Slit their throats just as pretty as you please without giving it a second thought." Matt suppressed a shudder of revulsion as he stared at Tulane's hard, thin lipped face. "I doubt Taryn Fletcher is anything like that." "Don't bet your life on it, Matt." Matt shifted uneasily in his saddle and scratched his head before deciding to say what was on his mind. "You know, Tulane, the army did the Indians a lot of wrong too. There was injustice done on both sides." When Tulane did not comment, he added," This Indian girl you were telling me about, did you ever find her?" A cold mirthless smile touched Tulane's lips briefly when he turned to look directly at Matt. "Oh, I found her all right. It took me three weeks, but I tracked her down. I found her in a teepee taking on a half dozen Apache bucks all at the same time." "What did you do?" Matt asked hesitantly. He was afraid to hear the answer, but could not stand hearing the rest of the story. "I splattered her brains all over the teepee after I killed her playmates." Seeing the shudder Matt could not contain, he smiled. "Does that bother you, Matt?" "Hell, yes, it bothers me," Matt replied. "I can't understand how anyone can kill another human being. I know you weren't born this cold or filled with hatred. I'd like to know what happened to you." It was obvious from Tulane's grim expression that he was not going to offer an explanation so Matt added, "Maybe someday you'll tell me." Tulane met Matt's compassionate gaze. "Maybe," he grunted. Several minutes passed silently before Tulane suddenly pulled the big black horse to a halt as he pointed to the river. "What's down there?" he asked in a crisp professional manner. Matt's eyes followed the direction he was pointing. "Nothing much, just a grove of sycamore trees along the river bank. Why?" "Because somebody's watching us from there. I'm going to take a look. Go on to the house. I won't be long." Without giving Matt a chance to protest, Tulane spurred the stallion

into a gallop. Within seconds he pulled the horse to a halt inside the grove of shade trees. The sycamores stood in a thick semi-circle along the bank of the river, forming a private screen from every direction except the west which faced the Fletcher ranch. He leaned back in the saddle and pushed his hat back with one hand, then rested both palms on the saddlehorn. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the water nymph who played so carefree in the bright blue water. After scanning the area, he was satisfied she was alone. "Well, well, Miss Fletcher. Isn't it a bit early in the year to go swimming?" Taryn gave him a pleasant smile as she splashed in the water. "Not at all, Tulane. In fact, the water's wonderful. Want to join me?" "No thanks," he drawled in reply. Taryn's beautiful face drew into a pout at his refusal. She rose to her feet in the river and walked slowly, deliberately out of the water. She took her time, enjoying the feel of his eyes on her naked body as she wrapped herself in a towel, making slow, seductive circles with it as she dried herself. "Jake told me you were interesting, but he didn't tell me how good looking you are," she told him with a beaming smile. "Your letter didn't mention the fact that you're a half breed either." "Well, I won't hold it against you." She dropped the towel to stand before him naked, waiting, but he made no move to come any closer. "If you want to talk business, Miss Fletcher, I'm here. If you want to play games, find somebody else." Taryn's expressive lips parted in a husky laugh at his indifference to her enticing beauty. "Jake told me you really hated Indians. That's why I didn't bother to mention in my letter that my mother was one. I can assure you, Tulane, that my money is just as good as Justin's. I'm prepared to make you a very good offer, much better than anything my brother or Matt Wainwright has made you." "If you want to talk business, put your clothes on," Tulane suggested dryly. He was not completely unaffected by the sight of such raw beauty, but had no desire to let her know it. "Why, Tulane? Are you having a hard time keeping your mind on business?" Taryn taunted. She placed her hands on her hips and spaced her feet slightly apart. She began running her hands lightly over her body, beginning with her throat, then moved slowly downward, cupping her breasts and caressing the hard tips. A seductive smile played at her lips

while she kept her eyes on Tulane's face, seeing his hard reserve begin to crumble when her fingers brushed the inside of her thighs to run lightly through the silky black covering of her womanhood. "What do you want, Miss Fletcher?" Tulane asked in a tight voice. "I think that should be obvious," Taryn purred in that seductive tone that sounded like warm honey. "Jake told me about the time your company attacked that Indian village and the soldiers raped the women. Jake said you never joined in, that you even tried to stop the others. He also told me that you went a little loony after your wife died. He even doubts that you still can make love. Can you, Tulane? Can you still get it up?" "Jake talks too damned much!" Tulane grated. "Now if you don't intend to tell me why you wrote me the same day your brother did and asked me to meet you here today, I've got better things to do." Taryn sighed with disappointment, but began climbing into her clothes. "I want you to kill my brother." "Why?" "Because he's a fool and a weak one at that. I'm not. If I don't take control of the Circle F Justin is going to piss it away." Tulane stared at her suspiciously as she finished dressing and sat down on the damp towel. When she was fully dressed, he dismounted, led the stallion closer, and took a seat next to her. "That's no reason to kill him." "I have other reasons. When I was twelve years old, Tulane, my dear half brother slipped into my room one night and raped me. He called me filthy names and said if I told anyone what he'd done, he'd just deny it. He said no one would take the word of a half breed over a white man. He said if I caused trouble pa would send me and my mother back to the Sioux. He was right, of course. "I knew that so I kept quiet and dear Justin kept coming to my room whenever he felt like it...still does." Her coal black eyes narrowed to become flinty with hatred as she lifted her head to look directly at Tulane. "That's why I want him dead. Is that so hard to understand?" Tulane removed his hat, wiped his forehead, then shook his head. "No, I suppose not. But it's like I told your brother last night, Miss Fletcher. I've already got a job." "Ah, yes, protecting the good Lady Katherine and the little angels," Taryn replied sarcastically. "Believe me, Tulane, the best thing you can do to protect Lady Katherine is to kill my lecherous half brother." Smiling when Tulane's dark brows rose in question, she tilted her

sleek head up to stare at him in amusement. "Justin has it in his head that if Matt Wainwright drops off the face of the earth that Katie will melt in his arms. Personally, I could care less but I thought you would find that mildly interesting." "Why would I?" Tulane countered. "I already know about your brother's infatuation with Katherine." It was Taryn's turn to look a bit surprised. Then her lush lips curled in a jeering smile. "Oh, I see. Lady Katherine has confided in you, has she? I'm not surprised. She's not one to waste valuable time with small talk." Irritation narrowed Tulane's at the girl's sarcastic remark. He snapped off a blade of grass and chewed the end of it, deliberately avoiding Taryn's sharp eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?" Taryn shrugged nonchalantly while she observed him. "Just that Katherine Wainwright is just a bit too nice to be true, that's all. Nobody can be that sweet and devoted all the time. I've always thought she secretly encouraged Justin, but I can see that she's convinced you of her purity as well. Men," she scoffed bitterly, "are such fools. A smart woman can bat her big blue eyes and you fall all over yourselves." Tulane rose to his feet silently and walked rapidly toward the black stallion who was munching on a tasty morsel of spring grass. Behind him, Taryn crouched on her knees, smiling at the obvious displeasure her remark had created. "I would have thought you'd have learned from experience, Tulane." He turned with one foot in the stirrup to face her, his face darkening with a scowl. "What the hell do you mean by that?" Taryn tossed her head, then ran a hand over her wet silky locks. The smile on her face was a sharp contrast to the crafty sarcasm in her eyes when she explained. "I know about your wife, Tulane," she said insolently. "I know you killed her because she ran off with another man. Jake told me. He said she left you for an Indian scout and you tracked them down and killed them both. "I should think that after being made a fool of by one clever woman, you'd be more careful in the future, but I see that Lady Katherine has managed to convince you that she's the perfect wife and mother. Well, you're wrong about her, Tulane, just like you were wrong in thinking your wife was so wonderful. "Because Katie Wainwright is just like me. She eats, she drinks, she

pisses, and she gets hot for a man once in a while. The problem is that she's let Justin think she's interested in him. Justin is a son-of-a-bitch, Tulane. When he gets something in his head, you can't change his mind and he intends to have her. So why don't you do yourself a favor...and me...and kill him like I want. If you're as good as I think you are, Justin will be dead and Matt Wainwright can hang for killing him. I get the ranch and you can have Lady Katherine for yourself, if that's what you want. What do you say?" "I say go to hell, Miss Fletcher!" Tulane swung up onto the black and spurred him into a gallop without looking back. Taryn watched him ride away through narrowed, disappointed eyes. After a moment she shucked off her clothes again and ran into the cool water. Spitting out a mouthful of water, she wiped her face and watched his disappearing form grow smaller on the horizon. CHAPTER SEVEN Tulane's mind boiled with self-recriminations while the big stallion galloped over the ground in the direction of the Wainwright house. Would he ever be able to put the past behind him, he wondered bitterly. Had the whole damned world heard about Arizona? He did not need Jake Stoddard's barbed reminders to keep that whole nasty part of his life alive in his memory. All he had to do was close his eyes and the nightmare came flooding back. The horse snorted as his pace slackened. Tulane realized he was pushing the animal needlessly and reined him into a slower gait and reached out to rub the sleek curved neck affectionately. "Sorry, Satan, guess I'm taking it out on you, aren't I?" he said aloud. He pulled the animal to a halt, then turned in the saddle to take a long look around at his surroundings. As far as he could see to the horizon lay acres of plowed ground just beginning to sprout new life. The river was a silver ribbon cutting through the land that wound its way back and forth like a long slender snake as it flowed toward the east. Thinking about the river brought his brows together in a disgusted scowl, for it brought to mind too clearly the encounter with Taryn Fletcher. "I must be losing my mind," he grunted to the horse as he prodded him into a sedate walk to cool him off after the hard ride. "I should've stayed in Texas where all I had to worry about was border bandits and stray Apaches.

They're a lot easier to deal with than desperate ranchers and stubborn plow pushers. Not to mention that half breed hellion sister of Fletcher's." A grimace of irritation settled on his features while he went over the conversation with Taryn again. She was beautiful, extraordinarily so, but she had the heart of a demon, he thought contemptuously. He wondered if her story about her half brother's abuse was true. If it was, then Justin Fletcher was an even bigger bastard than he appeared on the surface. He shook his head in amazement. Even with all the inhumane things he'd seen and the depravity he'd witnessed among the Indians it still made him wonder how a man could have a sexual relationship with his sister, even a half sister who was a half breed. At any rate, he could see that Taryn Fletcher would have to be contended with at some point. She had that look he'd seen so many times when he failed to respond to a woman's suggestive teasing. It was a challenge, he supposed, to get under his skin, to break down the shell he'd built around his emotions. He silently cursed himself for the way his body had nearly betrayed him. In spite of his hatred for Indians, Taryn's wild beauty had almost blinded him. To think he'd come so close to doing something he knew he would regret made him angry with himself, fed the frustration that drove him endlessly. Then his mind flashed to Katie Wainwright and the tension in him eased. A slight smile touched his lips at the vision his mind reproduced from the previous night's conversation. Now there was a lady, he thought with a grin. There was a gentleness about Katie, a compassion that was as natural as the air she breathed. A goodness, he thought for lack of a better term. He could feel the love in the Wainwright home. It seemed to linger in the rooms like the hint of Katie's perfume, subtle yet very powerful. Suddenly he felt empty. God, had it been only eight years since he'd lost Priscilla and the boys? It seemed an eternity, he thought, rubbing one hand across his eyes as if that would ease the pain that choked off his breath. Eight lonely, empty years. He wondered how he'd managed to keep on living all that time when the only thing he really wanted was to die. Would he ever stop wondering why he was left alive, why he hadn't died with them? After all this time he still could not think about his sons or picture Priscilla's quiet, regal face without feeling that horrible blinding pain. He wondered now if he ever would find peace from the torment of losing them.

He drew a long, ragged breath and shook himself mentally. Forcing himself to focus once again on the present, he looked around and prodded the stallion into a canter, wondering if Matt Wainwright appreciated what he had. If he didn't, he was a fool. He heard the tinkle of piano keys as he pulled the stallion to a halt before the hitching post in Matt's front yard. As he opened the gate and walked down the path to the front door, he could heard Katie's gentle voice insisting that Dane repeat the piece of music he had been practicing. "Aw, gee, Mom," came Dane's eight year old voice from inside the open door. "Do I have to? I wanna go fishin'. Why can't Glenna practice awhile?" "Your sister has already finished with her practice," Katie replied firmly. She held back the smile that threatened as she smoothed back the worn, dog-eared sheets of music into place. "Besides, you can't go fishing until your father gets back from the McGee's. Now practice!" "Aw, gee, Mom," Dane complained again. "It's not fair. Boys shouldn't hafta learn to play no dumb ole piano. Pop can't play and Mr. McGee can't play. I don't know any fella that can play, so why should I hafta learn? It just ain't fair." "Isn't," Katie corrected unconsciously. "And that isn't the point anyway, Dane. Now stop complaining and run through the scales again." Dane tilted his head sideways and sent his mother a disgruntled stare. "How many fellas do you know that can play, Mom?" he asked in an effort to put off the inevitable. "Me, for one." Katie looked almost as astonished as Dane at Tulane's comment. He stood in the open doorway with his hat in one hand, the other resting unconsciously on the butt of the .45 on his hip. "You can play the piano?" Dane asked in amazement. "How come? Somebody make you practice?" The boy's question brought a smile to his face. Katie's gaze darted over his lean tanned face, admiring the masculinity in his features. The blue-gray eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his quirked with the effort to restrain his merriment. "As a matter of fact, yes. I was about your age when my grandmother made me start taking lessons, but I'll tell you something, Dane. I'm glad she did." Dane slid across the bench closer to his mother to allow Tulane room to sit down beside him. While Katie and both children watched, he began to

play, slowly at first, then with more confidence as the music came back to him. "I know that song," Glenna spoke up from behind Katie's shoulder. "That's Shenando..Shenanan..." "Shenandoah," Tulane finished for her with a grin. Glenna smiled back, then overcome with shyness, stuck a finger in her mouth and disappeared again in the folds of Katie's blue and white gingham dress. "How come your grandma made you play?" Dane asked. "Why didn't your mom make her leave you alone?" A soft chuckle floated from Tulane's lips as his fingers nimbly touched the keys to fill the house with music. "My grandmother raised me so I had to do what she said." "How come? Where was your mom?" Dane inquired curiously. "She died when I was too young to remember her," Tulane answered without lifting his eyes from the keyboard. "What about your pa?" "Dane, hush," Katie chided with an embarrassed blush. "You're asking too many personal questions." "It's all right, Katherine," Tulane told her with a direct glance that deepened her embarrassment. "I don't mind. My father was killed in a duel before I was born, Dane. I never knew either of my parents. That's why you should always do what your parents tell you. You're very lucky to have both of them." "I suppose so," Dane grudgingly admitted. "But the other boys'll think I'm a sissy if they find out I'm taking piano lessons." "Do you think I'm a sissy, Dane?" Tulane asked with a solemn gaze into the boy's soft brown eyes. Dane shook his head vigorously. "Oh no, sir! You're the toughest guy I know." "When I was a boy my friends thought I was a sissy too because I could play until one day when we were a little older they needed someone to play at a party. Since I was the only one who could, they decided it was pretty great all of a sudden. None of them ever thought I was a sissy again." "How old were you then?" Dane asked curiously. A flash of amusement made Tulane's mosaic eyes sparkle. Then he looked to Katie with a grin. "Well, I'll have to admit that I was considerably older than you, but the point is, Dane, that it did come in handy later on. I've never been sorry I learned; I don't think you will be either." Dane thought it over for a minute, then his deep brown eyes reflected

his decision. "Well, I guess it won't be so bad if I can learn to play as good as you or mom." "You really do play very well," Katie said with a genuine smile from the far end of the bench. "You had an excellent teacher." Tulane's fingers left the keys to rest at his sides while Dane attacked the scales again. Over the sound of his practice Katie studied Tulane's thoughtful expression. He looked distracted, as though remembering more pleasant times, his lips curved upward in a half-smile. He ran one hand lightly over the curved end of the piano, then looked at Katie. "This is a fine instrument. Very old, isn't it?" he asked. Aware that he had caught her staring at him, Katie nodded and swallowed quickly. "Yes, it was my mother's and my grandmother's before her. It's solid cherry wood. It was very difficult to bring it here from Pittsburg but I simply refused to leave it behind." Her eyes sparkled with excitement while she told of the ordeal of trying to get the heavy piano into a covered wagon and the arguments she'd had with the trail master of the wagon train they had joined for the long trip from the east. Studying her, Tulane marveled at her beauty. It wasn't merely a physical thing, but something that radiated from within. Those midnight blue eyes with their thick lashes and clear honesty revealed more of Katie's warm spirit than she suspected, he thought. From the upsweep of honey beige hair to the tip of her freckled nose, Katie was all woman with the zest for life of a young girl. He admired that quality. Especially when it came in such an attractive package. It suddenly occurred to him that Katie was the first woman in a very long time that he found attractive. There had been women since Priscilla's death but only when the biological demands became too great to be denied. His eyes narrowed slightly when he recalled Taryn Fletcher's taunting remark regarding his ability to make love. Funny, most of the time he never thought about it. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times over the past eight years when he'd given in to the need for a woman. Punishment, that's what the army chaplain had called it. Self-punishment because of his guilt. Katie looked at him strangely when he gave a small snort of self contempt. When he realized what he'd done, he gave a slight apologetic shrug and tried to smile. As he looked into Katie's eyes he had the eerie sensation that she was reading his mind. "Dane, why don't you take your sister and go play outside for a

while?" she suggested quietly. Dane was only too happy to comply with her wishes. He grabbed his sister's hand, hauled her off the piano bench, and half-dragged her through the house into the yard. When they had gone, Katie settled back into place beside Tulane and smoothed her skirts. They sat, neither speaking for a time while Katie played an old hymn. Tulane stared into the distance, striving for something to say to break the awkward quiet. "You don't have to say anything, Christopher. I don't mind the silence, really. It's not uncomfortable to me." His dark brows shot up with surprise. He stared at her open mouthed for a moment, then chuckled softly. "You simply amaze me, Katherine," he said when he recovered. "How do you do that? Can you really read my mind?" Katie shifted uneasily on the bench as she shook her head. "It isn't like that at all. It comes and goes. I have no control over it. It often happens when I least expect it, like now." "Can you predict the future?" Katie shook her head. She kept on playing Amazing Grace while she glanced at him, then quickly away. Her heart was suddenly racing with the memory of the haunting dreams of the past few weeks. "No. Sometimes I do have these.. .dreams... but they're isolated events. It's mostly just feelings I get about people," she explained hurriedly. Her uneasiness made Tulane's brows raise curiously. She seemed very nervous now, almost afraid, yet he didn't feel that she was afraid of him, but more of herself. "These dreams, do they come true?" Katie's gaze froze on his for an instant before her cheeks filled with color. She wanted to look away, anywhere but into his handsome, inquisitive face, but she was unable to break the tantalizing contact with his eyes. "Yes, always," she whispered, blinking rapidly a few times. "But the dreams are isolated." "What kind of feelings do you get about me, Katherine?" Katie looked surprised, then embarrassed. She became very occupied with the piano keys while she gathered her thoughts. When she lifted her gaze to him again, she spoke quietly but with a firmness that came from confidence in herself and her very special gift. "I don't think you're nearly as heartless as your reputation claims. You've been badly hurt so you've built a shell around yourself to keep out

other people. You have a secret that tortures you. I'm also quite certain that you were drawn to Matthew and our problems because you're tired of the life you've been living. Whether you realize it or not, you want to change it. You've lived with grief and sorrow for a very long time. It's time you started to put your life back in order." "You think I can do that here?" Tulane asked gruffly. Her insight startled him, made him wish he hadn't brought up the subject for he now knew that Katie would never say anything less than what she knew to be true. An admirable quality, if not a painful one. Katie's head bobbed affirmatively as a smile curled her lips at how easily he had accepted her statement without denial. "You've already started, Christopher." "How do you figure that?" "Because you've taken the side of the right instead of the rich for the first time. You feel that Matthew and the others are right and Justin Fletcher is wrong. You're beginning to realize that being rich and powerful isn't enough, the right thing must also be considered." "Suppose I have to kill Fletcher?" he inquired with a grim expression. "If that must happen it will be because you're protecting my family. You're very attracted to my children, Christopher. Is it because you have children of your own?" she asked softly. "No!" he ground out through clenched teeth. The pain in his voice made Katie's heart ache. Without realizing it, she lifted one hand to touch his cheek. Tulane pulled away from the compassionate gesture and rose to his feet. Picking up his hat from the piano, he turned back to Katie with a bitter scowl. "You're wrong, Katherine," he said curtly. "This is a job to me, nothing more. When it's over I'll go on to the next one and forget about it." "No, Christopher," Katie disagreed. Their eyes were locked in a silent battle of wills. She slowly shook her head. "Whether you leave here when this is finished and go on with your life the way it is or not, you'll never forget the time you spend with us. Neither will we." Tulane turned on his heel and strode rapidly toward the door. Katie was about to call out to him when she saw Matt riding into the yard. She ran to the door just as he dismounted. "Hopkins just sent word. The shipment of wire is here. I've called a meeting tonight," he was saying to Tulane. "I'd like you to sit in on it, Tulane. It's time we got together and mapped out some solid plans." When Katie looked at Tulane, the intensity that was there only

moments before was gone. In its place was a calmness, a cool professionalism that made her suddenly afraid. Whatever secrets were locked inside, he kept well buried behind that cold dangerous mask that had come over him. As she watched him silently, an unfamiliar warmth began to creep through her, making her palms sweat and her throat dry. There was an animal sensuality about the man, a primitive intensity that all but took her breath. Turning, then hurrying back inside the safety of her home, she wrapped her arms around herself as if to ward off a chill. Whatever Tulane was or how deadly he was to his enemies, he was a thousand times more dangerous to the safe little world she had built for herself. When she glanced into the large oval mirror above the fireplace mantel she saw a pale faced woman whose lips were trembling not with fear, but excitement. Excitement generated by the handsome, deadly man who had become their protector. Savior or demon, which was he, she wondered worriedly. Which ever, he was here and the scene would be played to its conclusion very soon. She drew a long shuddering breath, resolving to get a grip on her emotions Tulane could only destroy her if she let him. She was in control. She could keep him in line, she told herself sternly. Still, it was not Tulane she had to be on guard against. It was herself. She was the one in danger of losing control and throwing caution to the wind. Watching him from the corner of her eye while she prepared supper, she knew instinctively that he would never make the first move toward her. If such a step was taken, it would be her who took it. Funny, that didn't give her much consolation right now. CHAPTER EIGHT Hours later the comfortable farmhouse was filled with the families of the other five farmers involved in the dispute with Fletcher. The men sat in the front yard in the soft twilight smoking their pipes and cigars in friendly conversation while they waited for Matt to start the meeting. Tulane leaned against the open doorway, his thumbs hooked in his gunbelt while he studied the faces before him. Next to Matt was Duncan McGee, the big red-faced Scot who was Matt's closest friend. Next in the circle was Alfred Wilson, then Milo Newman, and lastly Fenton Elwood These men all bore a striking similarity; they were big, raw-boned men with

work roughened hands and an honesty in their faces that Tulane grudgingly admired. Elwood was the only one who seemed a bit out of place. He was more slender than the others with a citified appearance that was an amusing contrast to the hard working, physical qualities of his peers. Elwood fidgeted in his cane backed chair and kept taking his pocket watch from his vest to check the time. He was nervous. Tulane wondered if he was afraid Justin Fletcher was going to appear in a puff of smoke to devour them all. Inside the house the women made coffee and helped Katie cut several pies into serving size pieces and place them on plates for distribution to the men. The children were all fed and put to bed hours before so now the kitchen was cozy for a visit. Katie stood at the sink washing up the last of the supper dishes, looking out the window into the gathering darkness thoughtfully. "Bet I know what's on your mind, Katie, my girl," came a musical voice at her side. Turning, she smiled with pleasure at Mary Alice McGee. "Oh, do you now?" she returned fondly. Mary Alice nodded emphatically as she dried her hands on Katie's dish towel then laid it aside. She leaned on the edge of the cabinet and stole a quick peek at the other women sitting around Katie's kitchen table, taking out their needle work. "Will you look at them," Mary Alice remarked dryly with a brief nod over her shoulder toward the group of cheerful faces. "You wouldn't think they had a care in the world. They act like this is just another visit instead of a war council." "Except for Hester," Katie replied worriedly. "Edward should have been here by now. Hester said he just had to finish up the chores. He should have had those done long ago. I can tell she's worried." Mary Alice glanced at Hester Dewey, then agreed with a nod. The woman sat at one end of Katie's kitchen table with her knitting in her lap but her eyes kept straying to the open window. The men's voices drifted through on the evening breeze but Hester was obviously listening for the sound of her husband's arrival. Her broad face was tight with concern, her large hazel eyes betraying her anxiety. Katie's heart went out to her. "Something's wrong, isn't it, Katie?" Mary Alice asked after leaning closer so no one but Katie could hear the question. Katie looked at her oldest and dearest friend with a worried nod. Mary Alice McGee was five feet eight inches tall, two inches taller than

Katie and several pounds heavier. She had dark blonde hair with darker streaks running through it, sharp blue eyes, and a pleasant plump face whose most attractive feature was its almost constant smile. "Yes, but I'm not sure what." Mary Alice nodded gravely with a glance at Hester Dewey. "Think we should say anything to Hester?" "What could I say?" Katie asked with a rueful smile. "That I've got a feeling something is wrong? That Edward is in trouble because I have a hunch?" Mary Alice couldn't resist a grin at the sarcasm in Katie's voice. "I guess it does sound a little foolish, doesn't it? But then Hester doesn't know about your hunches the way I do." Katie patted her friend's hand with a smile. "No one knows about my hunches the way you do except Matthew. Thank goodness. The others would probably want to burn stake for being a witch if they knew." "And your new friend?" Mary Alice suggested. Katie turned to look out the window, feeling her face grow warm when she saw who Mary Alice meant. Tulane had moved to the front gate and was standing with his back to the group of men, apparently watching the lane leading to Matt's house. "Yes, Christopher knows." "Oh, Christopher, is it?" Mary Alice persisted. "Suppose you tell me all about Christopher." Katie's face colored with embarrassment, telling Mary Alice more than any explanation she could have thought of. She twisted the dish towel nervously with a glance at the other women who were talking among themselves, paying no attention to her and Mary Alice. "Well, there isn't much to tell really. I'm sure Duncan has told you how he rescued us from Fletcher's men. I just thought it was a good idea if we could convince him to stay on for awhile, kind of give us a hand with this business." "That was some lucky encounter, wasn't it?" Mary Alice said with a smile at Katie's nervousness. "So Christopher decided to stay around for a while?" Following Katie's nod, she glanced out the window again at Tulane's broad shoulders. "He's handsome, Katie, really handsome." "Oh really? I hadn't noticed." Mary Alice giggled at the innocence in Katie's statement, then laughed again when Katie's face deepened with color. "Honestly, Katie, you and I have been friends for how long? Since grammar school? There's no

one else in the whole world that I can talk to the way I can talk to you and you know darn well that you feel the same. So, tell me, what's with you and Christopher?" Katie sighed resignedly and raised her eyes back to Mary Alice's sincere face. "There's nothing with us, Mary Alice, really." "I don't believe that for one minute, Katherine Wainwright," Mary Alice scoffed good-naturedly. "You just went bright pink at the mention of his name. So don't try to tell me that he isn't something special whether you like it or not." "I'm not being evasive, Mary Alice. I just don't know what to make of all this. It's confusing and a bit frightening as well." "Duncan tells me that he has quite a bad reputation. I imagined he'd look like the devil himself with two little horns growing out of his head. I was pretty surprised when I saw him. He's striking, what with those gorgeous eyes and all that dark hair. What color is it, red or brown?" Without waiting for Katie to answer, she grinned devilishly and hurried on in a soft tone. "And that body! I haven't seen a man that good looking in God knows when. Lord knows I love Duncan, but when they passed out the looks, he must've been somewhere else. But this Christopher of yours, Katie, now there is a man, and don't tell me you haven't noticed." Katie blushed to her hair line and pinched Mary Alice's arm to quiet her. "Okay, Mary Alice, I'll admit that he's handsome in a sort of animalistic way, but he's a very private person. Besides, I'm a married woman and so are you, so just keep that in mind while you're ogling him." "Married, but not dead, Katie," Mary Alice reminded her with a wink and a mischievous grin. "There's not a thing in the world wrong with admiring a good looking man. If there was, God wouldn't have made some men better looking than others. "And what's wrong with being an animal?" she added. "Lord knows I could use an animal once in a while. Don't try to tell me that the thought of snuggling up to him hasn't crossed your mind either, Katie. I saw the way the two of you looked at each other a little while ago." "You're imagining things, Mary Alice," Katie said defensively. "Katie Wainwright, you know I love Matt like a brother and I have only the utmost respect for him, but admit it; haven't you ever thought about what it would be like to make love with another man? I know I have. Bless poor Duncan's heart. He's the salt of the earth but when it comes to sex, he has about as much imagination as an anteater." In spite of herself, a giggle rippled from Katie's lips at the sincere,

devilish expression on Mary Alice's cheerful face. "You know I've never been very eager in that respect, Mary Alice. Sex is something I can live without. It just isn't important to me," she told her friend when the giggles had passed. "Maybe that's because Matt is like Duncan. He works from sun-up to sundown, eats his supper, and if he still has the energy left to make love it's over with so fast I hardly know he's been there. "Just once I'd like to make love nice and slow. You know, have the time to really enjoy it. Wouldn't you?" Katie's eyes widened with surprise. She looked out the window again, focusing on Tulane's tanned face and wide shoulders. Letting her eyes move slowly downward, she observed his slim waist and narrow hips, then onward to his long, muscular legs inside the denim trousers. She didn't realize her eyes lingered on the bulge between his hard muscled thighs so clearly defined by the snug fitting trousers until Mary Alice nudged her gently. "Well? What do you think, Katie?" Mary Alice whispered mischievously in her ear. "Doesn't thinking about that gorgeous body being wrapped around yours make your heart beat a little faster?" Snapping out of her fixed stare at Tulane's flawlessly proportioned body, Katie blushed profusely and pinched Mary Alice gently again. "I swear, sometimes you have no shame at all, Mary Alice McGee. Now stop this foolishness and help me get this pie and coffee served before it gets cold," she said briskly, turning away from the window and busying herself at the counter. As she moved among the men in the front yard serving the pie and coffee, Katie tried to make herself as invisible as possible. Men did not appreciate a woman involving herself in business matters so she hurriedly served the food and went back into the house with the other women. When the men had refreshed themselves Matt stood up and cleared his throat. Immediately all conversation stopped. He looked about the gathering with a frown. "Well, I guess we may as well get started without Edward, I can't imagine what's keeping him but we can't wait all night. "You all know why we're here. The wire is at Hopkins' store waiting to be picked up. That's a simple matter. What's not so simple is how Justin is going react, because you can bet he knows the shipment has arrived. "That's why I've asked Tulane to join us tonight. If anybody knows what to expect, it'll be him." Turning to Tulane, he motioned for the

gunman to join them. "What do you think Justin's first move will be?" he asked. Tulane moved from the shadows into the light from the lanterns hanging from the porch. He saw the distrust in the eyes of the men, felt it in the air. He wondered briefly how on earth he'd gotten himself involved in something so foolish. Yet when he glanced at Matt's calm, confident face, he reminded himself that he'd given this man his word. "He'll try to stop you from stringing it. I doubt he's stupid enough to try to keep you from picking it up from the store. If anything, he wants public opinion on his side. He knows he'll lose any chance of that if his men start anything in town." "So you think he'll try to stop us from getting it home then?" Matt asked. Tulane nodded. Across from the open door, Katie watched him in fascination. He was completely in control, having assumed the leadership of this group without even realizing it, she thought. His thumbs were hooked in the wide leather gunbelt, his pose deceptively relaxed. Katie felt the tension in him while he addressed the men, saw it in the depths of his eyes and the tightness in his face. She knew he did not like any of this. She also knew he wondered why he was getting so deeply involved in their problems. At that exact moment his glance shifted from the men to her just inside the front door. As their gaze locked for a mere second she knew why he was doing it. What was more important, Tulane realized it at the same instant, for the surprised expression that crossed his face told her more than any words could have. He paused in mid-sentence while their gaze met, then made a visible recovery and turned his attention back to the men who were waiting for him to finish. "Yes. If he tries anything it'll be after you're out of town, probably on the trail a couple of miles. But you won't see Fletcher. You'll see Jake Stoddard and a few of Fletcher's men. Fletcher himself will be nowhere around." "I hear you know Jake Stoddard pretty well," Alfred Wilson spoke up from the group of concerned faces. "Well enough," Tulane replied. "Jake's no fool, but at close range he's not very brave either. He'll hang back to pick you off one at a time, like shooting ducks on a pond." "So how do we protect ourselves then?" Fenton Elwood asked

doubtfully. "By staying together, staying armed, and staying alert," Tulane told him in a business-like manner. "The closer you stick together, the less chance Jake will take. That means going into town as a group, going to church as a group, and it means stringing the wire as a group. "It also means keeping a gun with you every minute and sleeping with one eye open." The men exchanged glances and a few muttered comments before Milo Newman voiced their concerns. "Look, Tulane, I'm sure you know what you're doing. You've had great success with this kind of thing, on the other side of the coin. But you're a gunman, you can protect yourself against Jake Stoddard. Me and the others, we're farmers. "Hell, I have trouble bringing in fresh meat for my family. I'm no good with a gun and neither is anybody else here. You're telling us that we've got to go up against a hired killer? That's insane. Worse, it's suicide." Tulane heard the man out, then turned to Matt with a disgusted scowl. "I thought you said these men would fight for what's theirs. If this is the kind of unity you can expect, Matt, you may as well lay down and roll over." "Just a minute, young feller," came Duncan McGee's deep voice as he rose to his feet. "Speaking for myself, I ain't about to let Justin Fletcher run over me without a fight. He may kill me, but he'll damn sure know he's been in a fight first. You tell me what to do and I'll do my best at it. That goes for the others too. Don't it, men?" He gave each man present a direct, meaningful stare until they reluctantly nodded in agreement. Then Duncan turned to Tulane with a big smile. "See, they'll fight. They just need someone like you to lead them." "I don't know if I like the idea of being led by a man who turned his back on his country," Alfred Wilson said sourly. "I mean, the war was one thing. You were a southerner. You had every right to leave the army and fight for your own kind, but I hear you left your company in Arizona cold. Just walked away and turned your back on men who trusted you. How do I know you won't do the same thing to us?" "You don't," Tulane replied curtly. His eyes had narrowed to slits, his face tensing with the farmer's observations. "Let's get one thing straight. I don't owe you an explanation for what happened in Arizona. But I will clarify one point for you. I left my command only when it became obvious that I could not lead my men effectively. When you're fighting Apaches, Mr.

Wilson, one mistake is more than enough to bury the entire company. I left before I made that kind of mistake." "But you were a high ranking officer, respected not only by the men under your command, but the army brass as well. A man just doesn't turn his back on a career that takes a lifetime to build," Wilson said speculatively. "He does if it's in the best interest of everyone involved," Tulane fired back. He stared at Wilson for a moment longer, then turned abruptly to Matt. "We've got company." "What?" "Riders coming, two, maybe three." All the time he was answering Matt's startled question, he was moving toward the house. Reaching inside the door, he picked up the Winchester he had placed there earlier and paused to address Katie. "Keep the women inside and put out the lamps." Katie leaped to follow his instructions. With Mary Alice assisting they had the lights out in record time. "Assertive, isn't he?" Mary Alice whispered in Katie's ear when they were in the dark at last. "I like that." Outside in the yard Matt and Duncan extinguished the hanging lanterns and waited. There was an eerie silence, an expectation that hung in the air, but Tulane issued no other directives. Instead he moved to the gate, holding the rifle in one hand, and waited, listening. The sound of hoofbeats became audible in the direction of the lane leading to the Wainwright house from the main road, growing gradually louder until they suddenly stopped. Fenton Elwood nervously lifted his rifle to his shoulder, fidgeting with the lever, when Tulane gripped the barrel and pushed it aside. "Save your lead, Mr. Elwood. It's too dark to see what you're shooting at. Besides, they've stopped just short of rifle range." "What do you think, Tulane?" Matt asked softly after several silent moments had passed. "I'm not sure, but I'll go take a look," was Tulane's grim reply. A moment later he stepped across the picket fence and disappeared into the darkness. Matt heard hoofbeats retreating into the distance a moment before a match flared. Almost immediately he heard Tulane call out his name. He flung open the gate and ran as fast as was possible for a man his size toward the sound of Tulane's voice. He almost stumbled over the gunman for Tulane was kneeling in the path.

"What the devil is going on, Tulane?" Matt asked in confusion. "Jake Stoddard left his calling card," came Tulane's quiet answer from the darkness. Another match flared and Matt was staring into a pair of vacant eyes. "Is it Edward Dewey?" Tulane asked matter of factly. Following Matt's horrified gasp, he added, "Well, this explains why he didn't show up for the meeting." "Is he...." "Dead? Completely." "H-how?" Matt stammered. "He's been shot, then scalped. Jake Stoddard's signature. Better get a blanket and keep his wife from seeing this if you can." "But why?" Matt asked, gulping in mouthfuls of air to dispel the urge to vomit at the sight of Edward Dewey's ragged, bloody head. "Why do this? Why wasn't Stoddard happy with just killing him? Why did he mutilate the body?" "To make a point, Matt. The uglier he can make this, the more effect it'll have on the others. And then Jake's always had a flare for the dramatic." "He's done this before?" "More often than I care to remember," Tulane answered, rising to his feet. "He's made a career of it at times. I had him court martialed once but the army threw out the charges. They said we were at war with the Apache and maybe Jake's methods would discourage them from future attacks. That was as far from the truth as the moon, of course." Matt looked up from his knees beside Dewey's lifeless body, staring at Tulane through horrified eyes. "My God!" he said in a voice that was more a moan. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe Justin would go to these extremes. What are we going to do?" "That depends on how badly you want this land, Matt," was Tulane's cool reply from the darkness. "What did you think Fletcher was going to do, slap your hands? Hell, man, you're in a war where there can only be one winner and Fletcher intends to be it. You've got to face the fact that if you're going to hold onto your place, it's going to be hard. People are going to die on both sides. "Fletcher's already drawn blood, but this is only the beginning unless you either roll over and give him what he wants or stand up and fight back. Which is it going to be, Matt?" Matt climbed to his feet, his huge hands clenched into fists, his blazing with fury. "I'm going to fight back, goddamnit! I'll see Justin Fletcher in hell for this if it's the last thing I ever do!"

Tulane's eyes brightened with admiration for this gentle man who had been pushed too far. He was sure Matt's curse was one of the few times the big man had used profanity in his life. Matt's massive chest was heaving with outrage, causing the veins in his thick neck to stand out like cords. "Get a blanket, Matt, and tell his wife. I'll stay with him until you get back," Tulane said quietly. Matt nodded and hurried away into the darkness, wondering how he could tell Hester Dewey that her husband had just been murdered. Behind him, Tulane watched his disappearing figure with a sigh of resignation. Glancing down at the mutilated body in the dust he sighed heavily as he looked toward the river. "Well, Matt, it may very well be the last thing you ever do, my friend, but if I'm real lucky, it'll be the end of Jake Stoddard too. "Or he'll kill me first," he added softly. "But then, that wouldn't be so terrible either." CHAPTER NINE That night Katie had the dream again. Once more she was trapped inside a small unfamiliar room containing a narrow cot covered with a dusty patchwork quilt. Once more she was ravished by a dark, intense man who took her body with a strange gentleness coupled with a dark passion which lifted her to exhilarating heights, then dropped her to the depths of hell with guilt and remorse. Only this time the man's face was clear. She awoke bathed in sweat, her heart pounding not from fear, but from the soul wrenching ecstasy that consumed her in the dream. She sat up, wiped at her brow with a shaky hand, then glanced at Matt who lay snoring peacefully beside her. She shook her head in confusion. Only hours before she had lain in Matt's arms and pretended a passion that did not exist. She reached out to smooth away a wrinkle in his strong forehead caused by the terrible events of this night. Rising quietly from the bed, she slipped into her robe and slippers and went to stand before the window. As the breeze from the open shutters dried the sweat from her body, she began to tremble with shame. Dear Lord, she thought frantically while she stared at Matt's sleeping face. Why can't I have those feelings for Matthew? Why is it that a perfect stranger

makes me feel the way my husband never has? She covered her face with her hands as she turned to face the open window. After a long time she lowered her hands and gripped the window sill, feeling the cool wood beneath her fingers, staring across the empty yard toward the barn. Tulane's face had been crystal clear in the dream this time. Did that mean the time was getting closer? God, what would she do if fate presented her with the setting for her dreams to become reality? Would she have the strength to deny the persistent pounding of her heart, the warm, gnawing demands her body was making? More importantly, would Tulane remain the cool, unapproachable man he was in the bright light of day or would he cross that imaginary line that separated them to make those delightfully frustrating dreams come true? Until tonight she could have answered that question without pause, but now she was not sure. Tonight she had read his thoughts all too clearly. He now realized that she was the reason for him being here, for him taking on the responsibility for protecting her family from Fletcher's gunmen. She also knew this realization came as a complete shock to him. He'd had no idea his life would take this turn when he involved himself in their problems that day in the store. If he had, he might have thought twice about it. What was he thinking right now, Katie wondered as she stared at the open barn door across the yard. What would he think if he knew about the torrid love scenes they played out in her sleep night after night? Would he make those dreams come true? If he did, would she ever be able to look at her husband without shame? As though he heard her thoughts, Tulane appeared from the darkness inside the barn. He moved toward the corral to lean against it, his elbows on the top rail, one foot on the bottom rail, staring into the distance. Before Katie realized what she was doing, she was outside hurrying toward him. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she approached him in the stillness. Before she was close enough to touch him, he turned and saw her. Did his face really light up with pleasure or was it her imagination, she wondered briefly as she came nearer. He was still wearing the gunbelt. It was tied to his right thigh by a rawhide thong, but the weapon no longer made Katie nervous. She had accepted the gun as she had accepted Tulane; as necessary to her family as the air they breathed. Now that she was face to face with him her mouth was so dry she

could not find her voice. He stood watching her silently, waiting for her to speak. His eyes gleamed like warm silver in the dim light as they drifted over her, admiring yet respectful. Her long hair was twisted into one long braid that hung down her back. A few loose tendrils fluttered in the breeze as she stood in silence staring at him, wondering if he was thinking the same thing she was; that they were both crazy. It was difficult to keep her eyes on his face. His shirt was open, no longer tucked neatly into his trousers, as though he had gotten dressed in a hurry and had not taken time to button it. His chest was strong and brown and covered with thick, dark hair. He looked powerful and very masculine in the moonlight that played around his gleaming mahogany hair. "This is getting to be a habit, Katherine," he said at last with a slight smile. "I doubt Matt would appreciate waking up to find you out here." Katie's beautiful face pinkened with embarrassment, but she could not tear her eyes from his handsome, serious face. He was watching her curiously, as though he had just seen her for the first time. Katie liked what she saw in his face. She saw admiration, respect, and the kindling of desire in those striking eyes before he seemed to realize he was staring and looked away. She felt oddly relieved. If she needed a confirmation of his feelings she had found it in the intensity of his gaze. His guard was up. She could feel it, as though he was afraid of letting her get too close. "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep," she said in a rush. "Then I saw you come out here and I…I wanted to thank you for the way you handled things tonight. Edward's death….and Hester…and all." His eyes mocked her gently in the pale light. Katie looked away, feeling foolish, wishing she had stayed in the house. Tulane's gaze swept over her, touching each curve and valley of her slender body, savoring her beauty with the hunger of a man too long without food. Then, sucking in his breath, he looked into the distance while he tried to rally his thoughts. "I did what I'm being paid for," he said, then wished he hadn't been so abrupt. "It was much more than that and you know it," Katie contradicted in a quiet, firm tone. "You were very gentle with Hester." After a brief pause during which he did not respond, she added, "And you were firm with the men. You rallied them together, kept them from running in a blind panic. They'd be lost without you."

"They're lost anyway," he grunted morosely. "There isn't a damned one of them that can defend himself, not even Matt. I can't very well do it all myself." "Then why did you push them to fight?" "I sure didn't do them any favor. They'll probably all get themselves killed. It's like shooting fish in a barrel for Jake Stoddard. It's not even a contest unless they start pulling together to make it work. They've got to make Fletcher know they're serious and to do that they've got to fight, draw blood, and frankly, Katherine, I don't think they've got it in them." "Then you're underestimating them, Christopher. They are unfamiliar with the violence that men like Stoddard thrive on, but they're not cowards, not a single one of them. It took real courage to leave everything safe and familiar and come out here like we did. It wasn't easy for any of us. "Matthew and I had a successful dry goods business in Pittsburgh. We had a nice, safe life, but there was no open place for the children to play, no fresh air for them to breathe. That's why we came west, to make a better life for ourselves and we've done it. "I've known Mary Alice McGee since grammar school. I was her matron of honor when she married Duncan. And the others… I've known them for years, came to Montana with them, settled here with them. We've helped each other through the fever and the snows and the hunger and the floods. I've helped Isabel Wilson and Pearl Newman bury children. I've buried one of my own. "And now I'll help Hester bury her husband. And I'll get a gun and fight Justin Fletcher myself if need be. So just get the thought out of your head, Christopher, that these people are afraid to fight!" She paused, gasping for breath, her cheeks filled with color, her eyes sparkling with indignation. When her anger receded enough for her vision to clear, she saw the twinkle in his eyes, the amusement that twitched his lips. "I believe you, Katherine," Tulane said with a grin that transformed his handsome face with a brilliant flash of ivory in the dim light. Embarrassed at her angry outburst, Katie looked away, biting her lip as she strived to regain her composure. "Besides, you were an officer in the army, weren't you? If anybody knows how to make men work together it should be you," she pointed out in a milder tone. "I'm only a man, Katherine, not a magician. We don't have a whole lot of time. I still think the best way to end this is to go over to Fletcher's and simply blow his brains out. Though I doubt that Fletcher is the

instigator of tonight's little business." "What do you mean?" Katie asked worriedly. "If he's given Jake full rein, this valley will be running with blood," Tulane replied thoughtfully as he gazed into the distance. "But I don't think he has. I think it's more likely someone else has." "You must mean Taryn." Tulane nodded. When he looked down at Katie, he saw the doubt and the question in her face. "You're thinking because she's a woman she's incapable of ordering a man's murder? I hate to disillusion you, Katherine, but women are just as malicious as men. Sometimes even more cruel. Taryn Fletcher has the sensitivity of a barbarian." Katie listened to the bitterness in his voice with a puzzled expression. She laid her hand on his. Tulane did not pull away from her touch but stiffened with surprise. He turned to face her, his brows raised in question, his handsome face very serious. "You're not talking about Taryn Fletcher now, are you?" Katie asked in a quiet voice while her blue eyes searched his tense features. "You're talking about your wife." "My wife is dead, Katherine," he said bleakly. "I killed her eight years ago, but she was nothing like Taryn Fletcher. She was one of the kindest creatures that God ever put on this earth. She thought with her heart instead of using her head and ultimately that's why she died." "You loved her very much." It was a statement, not a question. Katie stood silently watching the struggle behind his eyes, knowing that he wanted to confide in her, but was still too unsure. "Yes. She and my boys were my whole life. Only I never bothered to tell her that. I just assumed she knew it because she followed me wherever my career took me without complaining." "And you haven't loved anyone since." "My love killed one woman, Katherine. Do you think I'd knowingly inflict that on anyone else?" "So you keep punishing yourself for her death? By never allowing yourself to feel anything? That's emotional suicide, Christopher. I know you've still got a lot to offer a woman." His eyes had narrowed suspiciously while she spoke, but he could not suppress the curiosity in his mind. "Oh really? Like what?" he challenged her. "Your strength, for one thing," Katie answered firmly. "And you're a very attractive man, Christopher. Any woman would be proud to be your

friend, your lover. There is a lot of goodness in you if you'd just give it a chance to be seen." "Do you think I'm attractive, Katherine?" he asked in a deceptively casual tone. He saw her cheeks fill with color, but still she held his gaze without wavering. "Knowing that I killed my wife?" Katie nodded firmly, her eyes honest and clear. "Yes. I don't know what happened, Christopher, but you told Matthew that it wasn't for any of the obvious reasons. That's good enough for me." Tulane turned away, shaken. This gentle woman's faith touched him, made him feel queer inside. "You're very beautiful, Katherine," he said at last. He was still looking away from her, unable to trust himself to look into her eyes. "I'm sure you already know that I agreed to stay for all the wrong reasons, don't you?" At Katie's questioning expression, he gave a short snort of selfcontempt and explained. "I want to kill Jake Stoddard, Katherine, because he's about the lowest form of life I know, and because he's a constant reminder of something in my life that I'd like to forget. "Matt's another reason. I respect a man who's willing to fight for what he believes in. He's a good man. I admire that. But most of all I admire what he has. A home, a family that loves and looks up to him. Having had that once I know what it can mean to a man. Mostly though, Katherine, I stayed because of you. That comes as no great surprise to you, does it? It shouldn't because I think you've probably known it all along." Katie started to speak, but though her mouth opened no words would come out. She stared up at him speechless, fearful, yet thrilled to hear his quietly spoken admission. She had begun to tremble and leaned against the corral for support, unable to trust her weak legs to support her any longer. The very nearness of his tall, muscular body made her warm. When she was finally able to force her gaze to meet his directly, the smoldering flame within his eyes made her feel vibrantly alive, yet guilty as well. "You needn't be afraid of me, Katherine," he said in a husky voice. "I have far too much respect for Matt to forget my place. I'd just like you to know that I think he's a very lucky man. I envy him, more than you could imagine." Katie's breath caught in her throat as she stared unblinking into his smoldering silver eyes. Her hand lifted to gently touch his cheek, felt the muscles in his jaw tighten beneath her fingertips, but he did not pull away. Instead he stood very still for a second, then took her hand and kissed the palm of it.

Then placing her hand on the corral rail, he turned on his heel and strode quickly back into the barn. Katie stood alone for a moment, savoring the thrill of his acknowledgment of the feelings that had come to life between them. Then she scampered back to the house with a smile, not realizing that Matt had awakened, missed her, and had gone to the window in time to witness the gesture of affection that had passed between herself and the gunman. Justin Fletcher leaned back in the leather swivel chair behind his highly polished mahogany desk, beaming. He took a small cigar from a gold case and offered it to Jake Stoddard, who sat on the opposite side of the desk. "You've done well, Jake," Justin drawled while watching the gunman through a cloud of smoke. "Yes sir, you've done real well tonight." "Just doin' what you're payin' me for, boss," was Stoddard's friendly reply. He drew on the cigar while studying the rancher's pleased face "Wasn't nothin' to it really, just picked that farmer off like a sittin' duck." "It made a lasting impression on Wainwright and the others, I'm sure. It'll give them something to think about. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if they thought over my previous offer and pay me a visit within a day or two." "Maybe," was Stoddard's noncommittal remark. Then his heavy brows drew into a frown as he puffed on the cigar. "But I wouldn't count on it. It's been my experience that it takes more than one killin' to discourage farmers. Might take as many as three or four before they decide to give it up. Sometimes the first killin' only makes them mad, makes them want to fight. They have to be convinced they don't have a chance before they'll move out." Justin thought this over for a few seconds before nodding absently. "You're probably right. Matt Wainwright is a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. He'll be ready to fight for a few days before he realizes he doesn't have a prayer." "Haven't you forgotten something?" came Taryn's sarcastic voice from the doorway. Justin's face clearly reflected his displeasure at her uninvited appearance as she glided soundlessly into the room to perch one shapely hip on the corner of his desk at an angle that allowed her to watch both men. "Haven't you forgotten Wainwright's paid watchdog? What do you think Tulane will be doing all this time? Sucking his thumb?" "Wainwright hired Tulane to protect his family. He won't become a

problem unless we move against Wainwright directly," Justin said curtly. Justin scowled at Taryn's deliberate attempt to undermine his authority. He itched to wipe that arrogant smile from her beautiful face as his hands clenched into fists beneath the cover of the desk. "When do we do that, Justin?" she asked with an innocent expression that brought another black scowl from him. "When do we move against Wainwright?' "We don't!" Justin snorted. "At least not yet. I don't want Wainwright hurt, not even one hair on his head. Do you understand me, Jake?" Following the gunman's amused nod, he continued, "I don't care how many of the others you shoot up but I want Wainwright brought to his knees. I want him to come crawling to me, begging me to take that land off his hands. And he'll do it too when he sees that his friends are going to die one by one." "What makes you think that, Justin?" Taryn asked. She gave him her full attention, turning on the desk and leaning forward so he could not avoid looking down the front of her low-cut peasant blouse. Justin swallowed as he lifted his eyes from the tantalizing sight of Taryn's lush breasts barely covered by the white material. He saw the mocking invitation in her black eyes, the amusement in the way her tongue ran slowly over her lips while he tried to formulate a reply. "Because he's such an honorable man," he managed to say at last. "He won't let too much blood spill before he comes to his senses." "I hope you're right, Justin," Taryn purred. She smothered a giggle when he shoved back from the desk to come abruptly to his feet, then strode rapidly toward the doorway. "It would be a shame to spill anymore blood than is absolutely necessary, wouldn't it?" Justin did not hear the last remark for he had slammed the office door shut behind him on the way to get some fresh air. Behind him, Jake Stoddard lifted curious eyes to Taryn's amused face. "What's got into him?" "Nothing, Jake," Taryn answered with a pleased smile while sliding from the desk into the gunman's lap. Her arms slipped around his neck while she wiggled into a comfortable position, her black eyes narrowing into crafty slits at Jake's instantaneous physical response to her presence. One hand moved down his chest to toy with the buckle of his gunbelt. "Forget about Justin," she said in a husky voice while her lips nibbled his earlobe. "Come to my room tonight, Jake, when Justin's asleep. I want

to talk some business with you." "Business?" Jake croaked when her hand slid inside his trousers. "What kind of business?" "Shhh, not now. We'll talk later," Taryn murmured. "I never talk business when there's more pleasant things to do." While Jake's mouth pushed aside the low-cut blouse to nuzzle hungrily at her breasts, Taryn's eyes narrowed contemptuously. Men are all alike, she told herself smugly. Offer them your body and they're like children at a candy shop. They'll do whatever you want in exchange for a few minutes between your legs. She feigned a shiver of delight for Jake's benefit. Oh well, if that's what it takes to get rid of Justin, it's time well spent, she thought, thinking ahead to her discussion with the hired killer. CHAPTER TEN Matt kept silent as long as he could stand it. The early morning breeze was brisk as he rode beside Tulane on the way to join the other farmers before going into town to collect the wire shipment. He had lain awake most of the night after Katie had slipped back into bed, wondering about what he'd seen in the yard. His head pounded from lack of sleep but he kept trying to put his thoughts in order. Glancing at the gunman, he could see no signs of concern that he and Katie might have been seen together. Tulane's face was impassive, his shoulders straight, his gaze directly ahead. He rode with an easy grace that Matt found impossible, like a man born to the saddle. He held the reins loosely, letting the big stallion set his own pace across the fields. It was easy for Matt to see how Tulane would have been a fine army officer for the leadership qualities that set him apart from other men were obvious. He had assumed command last night as easily as if it had been a military exercise; quietly, effectively, and so expertly it made Matt feel clumsy and awkward. "Are you comfortable in the barn?" Matt asked after a lengthy pause. Tulane nodded without speaking. He shifted in the saddle to watch the big man's uneasy face. Something was bothering Matt this morning, he thought. Matt seemed distracted and nervous. Tulane wondered if this uneasiness was due to the previous night's altercation with Jake Stoddard, or if it was a more personal matter.

"Katie was afraid the barn might be too drafty to be comfortable," Matt said finally. "I patched up the cracks the best I could to keep out the cold but when the wind blows, well. it still gets in..." "Something on your mind, Matt?" Tulane asked without looking at him. "It's just that Katie, well, she takes everything to heart, you know," Matt said hesitantly, trying to find the right words. "She worries about everything and everybody but herself. She can't pass up a stray cat without trying to feed it. That's just how she is, guess she can't help it." Tulane's brows arched in surprise and his lips tightened with irritation. He had not missed Matt's implication, but was surprised at the npleasant feelings it stirred inside him. "What are you trying to say, Matt?" "It's just, well, Tulane, I'd hate for anybody to misinterpret her intentions," Matt said lamely. "There's not a kinder, more compassionate person in the world than Katie, but it don't mean anything personal, it's just the way she is. I'd hate for anybody to read more into her kindness than she means." "Meaning me?" Matt flushed as he stirred nervously in the saddle. Having said it aloud he realized how foolish it sounded. He wished he'd just kept quiet. When he looked at the gunman, Tulane's blue-gray eyes were cool, unaffected, but he felt the tension in the air. Tulane added, "If you're bothered by Katherine coming out to talk to me last night, you needn't be. She was concerned because I was wandering around in the middle of the night and came outside to ask me if anything was wrong. That's all." The clipped tone of his voice told Matt he did not wish to discuss the matter any farther. Matt breathed a sigh of relief, glad to let it go. It had been a mistake to bring up the subject at all. He mentally kicked himself. His life, perhaps the lives of his family depended on the cool, distant man at his side It would be a grave error to make an enemy of the one man who could save them all. He promised himself he would never be foolish enough to risk it again. Two hours later the expedition began the return trip with six wagons loaded with barbed wire. The trip into town had been uneventful except for a few curious stares from the townspeople. Shifting in the saddle at the head of the line of wagons, Tulane looked over his shoulder again with a frown. It was too quiet, too easy, he thought restlessly. The hair at the base

of his neck was standing on end in expectation. It was a sign he never ignored, for many times this sixth sense of danger had saved his life when fighting the Apaches. He always listened to it carefully. "What's the matter, Tulane?" Matt asked worriedly at his side. Tulane shook his head. "It's been too easy, Matt. I don't like it." "Maybe Justin's decided to call it off," Matt suggested hopefully. "You don't believe that anymore than I do. We're being watched." Matt jerked around in the saddle, searching the horizon for signs of life, then turned back to Tulane. "I don't see anything." "Neither do I... yet… but he's out there. I can feel it." "You mean Stoddard?" "He's out there waiting for the right moment. We won't see him until he's ready so we'd better be prepared." Before the words had faded from his lips, a swirl of dust on the horizon caught his eye. He whirled the big black and in seconds was racing along the wagons. "Get off the wagons and get down!" he shouted along the line. Instinctively the farmers leaped to obey, but before they could get to the ground and grab their rifles from the wagon boxes, the thundering hoofbeats of a dozen riders were upon them. They scrambled to return the fire, but their shots went wild, landing harmlessly into the dirt in front of the on-coming horsemen. The riders came in fast, bending low over their saddles, shooting into the wagons. Matt crouched behind a wagon with his rifle aimed, but his intended victim grabbed at his chest and fell headlong into the dirt before he could squeeze off a shot. He stared at the rifle barrel for a moment, then realized it was Tulane's gun that was firing rapidly behind them. He glanced behind him at the gunman. Tulane had not dismounted, but was firing from the back of the stallion. His rifle spit lead and smoke as fast as Tulane could flip the lever to put another bullet into the firing chamber. Matt was stunned at the ease with which Tulane handled the gun, the snorting horse, and gave orders to the men to take their time before firing. "Wait until they're closer," he was telling the farmers. "Take your time. Aim higher, McGee, you just shot that chestnut," he advised while at the same time bringing down the rider who had been thrown when his horse was shot from beneath him by the Scot's wild shot. "That's better. That was a good shot, Wilson," he called to the farmer

when he felled an on-rushing rider. To Matt's amazement, Tulane's calmness rallied the farmers. They began to follow his instructions, amazing themselves by the effectiveness a few simple commands had on their ability to launch a counter-attack. Within moments Fletcher's riders decided they'd had enough and turned to retreat. The farmers stopped firing when the riders broke off the attack and rose to congratulate each other on such a good job of defending themselves. Matt climbed to his feet, still gripping his rifle so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and began to move from the protection of the wagon when Tulane's warning froze him in his tracks. "Matt, get down!" Matt turned to see what had brought on the sharp warning. From the corner of his eye he saw Jake Stoddard coming at him, hurtling across the ground at breakneck speed. Stoddard was leaning low over his horse's neck, flattened against the animal, firing rapidly with his rifle laid across the pommel of his saddle. The shots went wild, slamming into the sides of the wagon in front of Matt but it was enough to startle the team. They bolted, rearing and snorting in fright, and would have run away completely had not Matt leaped toward their heads. He caught the bridle of the nearest horse, hanging on in spite of the animals' frantic attempt to run. His actions further frightened the horses. With a might jerk, they pulled free. The big man was yanked from his feet. He fell beneath the heavy wagon as the team bolted. The wheel rolled over his leg. His face went chalky white when the bone snapped beneath the weight. Yet he held onto the reins, grimly calling to the horses in an effort to calm them. In the few seconds that passed, Jake Stoddard emptied his rifle into the wagon. His face was twisted with fury. He swerved his horse seconds from crashing into the wagons, riding away in the opposite direction. Just short of rifle range he halted, turned, and paused to reload his weapon. Then he charged again at top speed, sending his horse at the wagons once more at full tilt. The farmers dropped behind the cover of the wagons, then looked at Tulane to see what he would do. The gunman's face was set in grim, determined lines, as he calmly reloaded his own rifle. Then as Stoddard got closer, he urged the stallion into the open ground between the wagons and the on-coming rider. Without lifting the Winchester to his shoulder, he fired once and Stoddard's mount flipped end over end, spilling Stoddard into the dirt. When the gunman staggered to his

feet, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears, he made a feint in the direction of the rifle that had been thrown clear when the horse went down. Tulane's second shot stopped him cold and the rifle went skittering on the ground just beyond Jake's reach. He lifted resigned eyes to Tulane on the stallion just a few feet away. "Well, go one, damn it!" he cursed savagely. "This is what you've been waitin' years for! Go ahead, shoot me!" Tulane stared at him in silence for what seemed an eternity while he studied Stoddard's weasel-like features. The rifle lay across his forearms but Jake was not deceived by the casualness of the pose. "You're a damned fool, Jake! That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do. What the hell's gotten into you?" Stoddard looked mildly Surprised, then grinned with a shrug. "Guess I underestimated those farmers. Never thought they'd fight like that." "Underestimating them was understandable, Jake, but you know better than to underestimate me." "You're right, Tulane. I must be gettin' old," Jake agreed. "So are you gonna kill me or not?" Tulane thought over the challenge in the gunman's cold eyes, then shook his head. "Not this time, Jake. But don't think it's because I don't want to see you dead. You know how much I'd like to put a bullet in you." "So what is it? Old time's sake?" Stoddard asked with a sarcastic grin. "Hardly," Tulane snapped. "I want you to take a message to Fletcher. Tell him if it's a fight he wants, that's what he's got." He glanced around at the bodies of the attacking riders lying sprawled on the ground nearby. "And I'd say we're at least a half dozen killings ahead right now. Tell him these people won't go down without taking him along." "You know if the situation was reversed I'd kill you," Stoddard pointed out. Tulane nodded. "I know." "I'm probably the only man alive who's capable of killin' you, Tulane," Jake drawled confidently. "Sometimes I wonder if that ain't what you want. You know lettin' me live now is a mistake you'll live to regret. There's a time comin', Tulane, when it'll be just you and me. One of us won't walk away." "Just remember how easily I could've killed you today, Jake," Tulane reminded him coldly. "You can't out shoot me with a rifle and you know damned well you can't outdraw me. Think about that when you make your

move because I'll be waiting for you and I'll kill you. Now drop your gunbelt and start walking. It's a long way to Fletcher's. If you hurry, you can make it by dark. Move!" he commanded when Stoddard hesitated. The hatred in Jake's eyes brought a brief smile to Tulane's grim face as the gunman unbuckled his gunbelt and let it drop at his feet. With a last furious glance in Tulane's direction, he began walking toward the Fletcher ranch. Tulane moved the black behind the wagons and dismounted. "Keep an eye on him," he said over his shoulder to Fenton Elwood with a short nod in Stoddard's direction. Then he turned his attention to Matt who lay propped up against a wagon wheel, grasping his right leg as he grimaced in pain. Tulane dropped to his heels beside Matt and Pushed his hat back. "How bad is it?" he asked while he leaned forward to gently explore the break. "Bad enough," Matt grunted through clenched teeth. "It's my own damned fault, Tulane. Sorry." "It's broken all right," Tulane remarked as he leaned back on his heels. He looked up at the circle of anxious faces gathered around him. "Get me a couple of pieces of wood, as flat as you can, to make a splint." Milo Newman and Fenton Elwood jumped to find the wood, but Alfred Wilson slumped against the wagon with both hands over his face. Seconds later Tulane heard the man sobbing. "Was that the first time you killed somebody?" he asked as he rose to his feet. Wilson's wide shoulders shook, then he lifted his head and wiped at his eyes with the back of a ham-like hand. "Yes," he whispered in a broken voice. "I'm a God-fearing man, Tulane. I ain't never raised my hand against another living thing and, God help me, I'll never do it again." "You will if you want to keep your place," Tulane told him matter of factly. "This is only the beginning, Wilson. You may have to kill a dozen times before this is over. If you can't do it, you better get out now before your conscience gets somebody else killed." The coldness in his voice brought surprise to the farmer's agonized face. "It's so easy for you, ain't it? Killing comes like breathing to you, but I ain't like you, Tulane. I can't kill a man and not let it bother me." A mocking expression came to Tulane's handsome face while he observed the farmer's dilemma. "Yeah, killing is easy when somebody else does it, isn't it, Wilson? You could watch me kill a dozen times and that's

all right. Your God-fearing conscience can deal with that, but when you have to draw blood to defend yourself, that's altogether different. All of a sudden, killing is a terrible thing. It's different when your own hands get a little dirty, isn't it? "Well, get used to it, all of you. Fletcher has unlimited resources. He may hire two dozen killers to run you out, but don't think for one minute that you don't have to do your own fighting. I'm only one man, I can't do it all. "Starting tomorrow morning you'll all learn to shoot," he went on briskly as he took the two pieces of wood that Newman silently passed to him. Kneeling beside Matt, he deftly placed the supports on either side of Matt's lower leg, glancing up at the circle of concerned faces. "McGee, hand me your belt. Yours too, Elwood." When the two men complied with his instructions, he looped the belts around the splints, one at either end, and pulled them tight Ignoring Matt's pained rush of breath, he tied them off, then leaned back on his heels. "This was the most pathetic display of marksmanship I've ever seen. McGee shot a horse, Elwood and Newman didn't do even that well and Wilson had a lucky shot and killed a man, then went all to pieces," he told them in a crisp, matter of fact tone while adjusting the splints. "How the hell the lot of you has managed to stay alive this long is an amazement to me." There was no malice in his words, just the authoritative manner of a man who had taken charge. Under his appraising glance the men dropped their heads and shifted nervously from one foot to another while they waited for him to continue. Tulane got to his feet and squared his shoulders. His gaze briefly touched each man in turn as he spoke, his voice a bit softer now, more reserved. "The first thing you've got to learn is how to hit what you're aiming at. Granted, being able to hit tin cans is a lot different than shooting at a man who's shooting back, but it's a beginning. I want you all at Wainwright's place first thing in the morning. Bring your rifles and plenty of ammunition. It's likely to be a long day." He gave the men a few moments to collect their thoughts during which time they glanced at one another, then shrugged in silent agreement. Then he motioned toward Matt. "Get Matt into a wagon and get yourselves home. No need to worry about anymore trouble from Fletcher today. He'll be busy for a day or two licking his wounds."

The men lifted Matt onto the wagon seat. It was no small task due to the man's immense size. It took a good deal of straining and grunting to ease him upward into place. "What do you think Fletcher will do now, Tulane?" Alfred Wilson asked when Matt was seated in the wagon. "Two things." Tulane was speaking over his shoulder while he tied the black's reins to the wagon and climbed into the box beside Matt. "First, he'll hire some more men. By now I'd say more than a few of his men have decided they've had enough. That means he has to replace them before making another strike. "Relax, Elwood," he said dryly when the farmer's face paled visibly. "That gives us time for you to improve your shooting skills." "These men he'll be hiring… won't they be hired killers instead of cowhands?" Wilson asked worriedly. "Most likely. He's found out already that you men are more of a problem than he anticipated. That means he has to hire better guns and more of them. Jake Stoddard hasn't done too well on his own." "What's the second thing, Tulane?" Matt asked through gritted teeth. Tulane glanced at him, recognized the pain in the big man's pale face, and smiled grimly. "Then he'll try to prevent you from stringing the wire. From now on, things will get very unpleasant. If anybody wants out, now's the time to say so." He regarded the silent ring of faces with their worried, determined expressions. With the exception of Fenton Elwood, they were obviously agreed to continue the fight. Even Alfred Wilson's shakiness had been replaced with a more serene calmness. But it was Elwood's sweating upper lip and trembling hands that bothered Tulane. The farmer refused to meet his eyes, choosing instead to look into the distance while screwing up his confidence. Elwood would never stay firm, he could feel it. Elwood was the weak link in the chain, maybe weak enough to destroy them all. He'd bear watching closely. "Get on home then," Tulane said to the group, redirecting his attention away from Elwood. "Be at Matt's at first light." Without waiting for a reply, he clucked to the team as he flicked the reins across their broad backs. The wagon creaked forward slowly, bringing a muttered gasp of pain from Matt with every turn of the wheels. "Hurts like hell, doesn't it?" Tulane asked after a few silent moments had passed. By now the sun was beginning to sink behind the horizon, covering the land with a soft pink haze that seemed out of place so soon

after the bloody confrontation. Matt nodded. He gripped the edge of the wagon with one massive hand, the other grasping the broken leg just above the knee in an effort to ward off the bursts of excruciating pain. "You ever had a broken leg, Tulane?" he asked through strained lips. Tulane head nodded and regarded Matt with understanding. "Yes, once when I was in military school. My horse fell during a cavalry drill and rolled over me. Broke my right leg in three places." "Then you know how this feels," Matt grunted. "Where did you go to school?" he asked in an effort to keep the conversation going and take his mind off the injury. A dry chuckle rippled from Tulane's lips at the question. "Several places," he answered with a grin. "I was thrown out of a half dozen schools before my grandmother called in a couple of old debts and got me into West Point. I figured I'd used up all my chances by then so I settled down to business." "You went to the United States' best military academy?" Matt asked in surprise. Tulane smiled at the amazement in the farmer's face. He nodded as he glanced back to the rough trail ahead. "Four long years worth." "Did you graduate?" Again Tulane nodded. "In '59. I was commissioned a first lieutenant and served under Lee until the war broke out. Then I resigned my commission and went home to Louisiana." Matt wanted to ask more questions, but Tulane had become very quiet. His face had tightened, the expressive eyes had clouded with memories that Matt suspected were unpleasant. It was obvious that he did not wish to continue the conversation so Matt sat in silence, straining against the pain the farmhouse rose into sight. Before the wagon came to a halt, Katie was flying through the gate and grasping the insides of the wagon, peering into Matt's face anxiously. "How bad is it, Matthew?" she asked before her husband could offer an explanation. "Now don't get upset, Katie, my girl. It's just a broken leg, nothing to get alarmed about," Matt said soothingly. "What happened out there?" The question was softly spoken, directed to Tulane, but Matt intercepted the gunman's response. "Some of Justin's men tried to keep us from getting the wire home,

just like Tulane thought he would. But, as you can see," he said with a wave over his shoulder toward the rolls of barbed wire in the wagon bed, "He didn't succeed. Thanks to Tulane. He saved us all, Katie. If he hadn't been there I'm sure we'd all be dead now. I don't know how we'll ever repay him." "Nor do I," Katie echoed softly. She squeezed Matt's hand, then she moved back to allow room for Tulane to help him from the wagon seat. As his gaze met Katie's across Matt's shoulders, Tulane remembered Matt's not so subtle reminder that Katie often felt sorry for stray creatures. His eyes narrowed as he wrapped Matt's arm around his shoulder and helped the injured man limp slowly toward the house. "Just doing my job," he said curtly, ignoring the surprise that leaped to Katie's face. He looked away from the fleeting expression of pain his sharp words had caused, gritting his teeth to choke back an apology. Matt was obviously correct. Katie would never turn her back on anything she might be able to help, even a lost soul like himself, but he had no intention of becoming one of her charities. She was a kind, compassionate woman but kindness and sympathy were the last things he wanted from her. Just what he did want from her was too impossible to consider. It seemed the only way he could keep those preposterous thoughts from surfacing was to hide them behind that chilly blanket of aloofness he threw around himself. He worked for her husband. It was that simple. He'd see this job through and be on his way. It was for Katie's own good that he refused to look at her again as he helped Matt into the house. For her good, and his own, for by now, he knew all too well her ability to look into his head and read his thoughts. In this case what she might see in his mind was far better kept to himself. CHAPTER ELEVEN For the next three days Tulane drilled the farmers in the mechanics of marksmanship. From early morning until darkness brought the practice sessions to a halt, he instructed them in the rudimentary skills until they were ready to drop from exhaustion. They fired endless rounds of ammunition at straw filled targets hung from the rafters in Matt's barn doorway, first while the targets were stationary, and then while they swung in wide arcs until he was satisfied they were as good as he could make them

in such a short period of time. Even Matt hobbled out on his crutches to take his turn with the rifle, but even allowing for his handicap his shooting left a great deal to be desired. At the end of the third day Tulane announced the practice was over and dismissed them. As he climbed into his buckboard to join Mary Alice and his boys, Duncan McGee turned to squint down at Tulane. "Well, what's the verdict, Tulane? When do we start stringing that wire?" he asked in his booming Scottish accent. Tulane could not resist a slight grin at the Scot's hearty confidence. Of all the men in the group, McGee had become a favorite in the past three days. Duncan was a big brawny man with a ruddy complexion and snapping blue eyes that were always smiling but beneath that pleasant attitude Tulane sensed the heart of a lion. Duncan McGee was a courageous, honest man, much like Matt Wainwright. Tulane admired that. "None of you are likely to win any shooting matches, McGee, but you're a far sight better than you were a couple of days ago. At any rate, it'll have to do. We start stringing wire tomorrow morning." "Good!" Duncan boomed with a broad smile. "Where do we gather?" "At your house," Tulane answered. "Your place is about the midpoint. We'll gather at your place, then start fencing Newman's land first since it's the farthest east and work our way west." "What about Edward Dewey's land?" Newman asked from his wagon seat nearby. "Hester and the kids are staying with my family until this is settled one way or the other and she wants her farm fenced but with Edward gone… well, she feels bad about not being able to help." "Tell her not to worry, Milo. We'll put up her wire," Matt said confidently. "We're all in this together. We'll see that her and the kids are taken care of just like Edward would want." The men straggled a few more minutes to discuss details, then turned their teams for home. Tulane followed Matt into the house for supper, but it was a silent meal, like all the meals had been for the past three days. The children were fed and asleep. The absence of their chatter left a strained atmosphere around the dinner table. Tulane barely touched his food before rising and excusing himself. Katie stared at his broad shoulders disappearing across the yard with a worried, confused expression. Turning to Matt, she asked, "Matthew, what's going on with him?

He's acted strange ever since he brought you home with the wire. Did something else happen that I ought to know about?" "Can't you tell, Katie?" Matt asked between hearty bites of stew. When she shook her head, he could not resist a tiny grin. "What's the matter, Katie, my girl? Have you lost your magic?" "He's angry, Matthew. I can feel the anger, but I don't know why. He's blocking all the signals. It's as though whatever is on his mind is so unpleasant he's deliberately trying to keep it a secret." Matt's mind flashed immediately to the conversation he'd had with Tulane about Katie's kindness the morning before the shoot-out with Fletcher's men. He stirred uneasily in his chair as he held out his plate for another helping of the tasty stew as a way of covering his discomfort. One thing had become increasingly clear of the past couple of days. The gunman was deliberately avoiding Katie, almost to the point of rudeness. That told Matt his subtle message had been received. It also told him his suspicions about Tulane's developing attraction for his wife had been accurate. His message had not been delivered a moment too soon, he thought with a relieved breath. Not a moment too soon. Tulane looked toward the door at the first sound, his brow wrinkling in irritation. Katie made quite a sight in the faded blue jeans and one of Matt's shirts reworked to fit comfortably for a days work. His eyes traveled the length of her, then back up to lock with hers, noting the defiance that made the midnight blue depths sparkle like sapphires in the morning light. Katie stood just inside the barn door with her hands on her hips, waiting for his reaction. From the way his lips had tightened and the tic in his jaw, she knew it was not going to be friendly. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice was deceptively soft but there was no mistaking the challenge beneath the words. "I'm taking Matthew's place," she announced perkily. "It's obvious that he can't do our part of the work with a broken leg so he's staying home with the children and I'm going instead." "And do what?" Tulane snorted. His eyes dropped the length of her again, noting the small work boots and wide leather belt cinching up her trousers Katie had tailored them to fit her small frame until they fit like a second skin, accenting and defining the soft, feminine curves. Katie felt the heat in his gaze when his eyes lifted once more to her face. There was no mistaking the way his contemplative inspection had

lingered on the swell of her breasts beneath the close fitting shirt. She suddenly felt nervous, almost tongue-tied as she noted the tension that made him swallow before finding his voice. "This isn't a Sunday social we're going on, Katherine," he said coldly. "I don't expect it to be," she returned in the same tone. She turned to walk resolutely out the door into the bright morning sun. The wagon was loaded with the wire and the horses stamped their feet impatiently. She took a long breath, then reached into the wagon box to pick up her hat, set it firmly on top of the coiled braids of honey-beige hair, and smoothed the brim down to block the sun. "You're not going!" She turned to face him, drawing herself up defiantly to stare at the growing anger in his handsome face. "I am going, Christopher, and that's final." Tulane stared at her, alternately admiring her beauty and resenting her attitude. She had never been more beautiful, but he refused to let himself dwell on her physical appearance for it clouded his mind to the real issue. "Just what do you think you can do?" "I can do lots of things. I can carry nails, and fence posts, and I can keep a lookout for trouble," she informed him smugly while she climbed onto the wagon and took up the reins. "It's too dangerous, Katherine!" Tulane argued. He stalked from the barn, glaring at her the whole way, and came to a halt directly in front of her. "It's no place for a woman." Fire flew from Katie's eyes at that remark. Before she realized it, she had leaned forward until the tip of her index finger was jabbing into his chest. She met his angry gaze with an even angrier one of her own, ignoring the warning signals he was sending. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean that I can't do my part," she snapped. "I don't know what kind of feather headed women you've known in the past, Christopher, but I assure you I am not one of them "This is my fight too and with Matthew laid up, it's my place to do what I can to get the wire put up. And that's what I'm going to do. Matthew and I talked it over last night and he agrees. I'm going with you!" "All right then, damn it!" Tulane barked while he strode around the team to climb into the wagon beside her. "If Matt can't make you listen to reason there's precious little I can do. So you'll go, but you'll do what I tell you. Is that understood?" Katie dropped her hands into her lap as he took the reins. Looking up

through thick sooty lashes, she nodded. "Yes, Christopher, whatever you say." She resisted a giggle at the black scowl on his face as the heavy wagon rumbled from the yard and down the path toward Duncan McGee's farm. He was muttering under his breath for the first mile, but beneath the obvious reasons for his anger Katie sensed something more. Something he was trying very hard to conceal. She watched him curiously. Dressed in worn blue work jeans that hugged his muscular legs and a dark blue cotton shirt, he could have been mistaken for an ordinary farm hand, but Katie knew he was far from ordinary. Her eyes settled on the wide leather gunbelt around his waist, then moved the length of his arms to linger on the strong gloved hands that held the reins. It was more than his obvious physical appeal that made him attractive, she thought silently. There was an inner strength in him unlike any other man she'd ever known. The kind of strength that resulted from being tested and overcoming the trials. There was nothing superficial about him. He made no effort to conceal his past or what he was. She admired that. Most importantly, beneath that hard, indifferent crust was a man of intense passion. Tulane cared very deeply for certain things. Katie was sure of that. Glancing upward at his tanned, irritated face, she could not help wondering what it must be like to be the object of that passion. Her eyes lingered on the curved sensual lines of his lips. She felt a rush of blood to her face as the sudden recollection of her dreams and the touch of those persuasive, tender lips on hers ricocheted through her mind. She immediately dropped her gaze and closed her eyes. Clenching her hands into tiny balls of frustration, she said a silent, fervent prayer for forgiveness and strength, vowing to keep those unexpected wicked thoughts from creeping to the surface again. When her eyes opened again, she was surprised to find Tulane watching her curiously. She looked away quickly, wetting her dry lips with the tip of her tongue while she tried to find her voice to cover her embarrassment. "Why are you so angry with me, Christopher?" she asked after a moment. Tulane's wide shoulders shrugged beneath the dark blue shirt as he looked back to the trail they were following through the plains. "This kind of job is no place for a woman," he grunted. "That's only a part of it," Katie contradicted quietly, noting the

momentary surprise that crossed his face. "You've been angry ever since you brought Matthew home with the wire. If I've done something to make you angry, I'd to know." "What happened to your crystal ball?" Katie's face paled at the coldness in his voice. There was such a chill in the depths of his eyes that she glanced away, unable to maintain contact. After a moment she forced herself to meet his stony expression again, mentally squaring her shoulders at the grimness in his handsome face. "That remark was unnecessary, Christopher. I asked a simple question and I expect a simple, civil answer," she said in a quiet, but firm tone of voice. Tulane stared at her up-turned face in silence, wishing he could take back the unkind remark, but knowing too, this unfriendly manner was necessary if he was to maintain any perspective at all where she was concerned. "No, Katherine, you've done nothing to make me angry," he said after a moment. He looked back to the trail, deliberately avoiding the confusion in her eyes. "Then what's bothering you?" she persisted doggedly. He gave an irritated shrug as he flicked the reins against the team's backs to hurry them along. "Nothing." "That's not true. Something is obviously disturbing you and I'd like to know what it is. Maybe I can help." "No!" he grated through clenched teeth. He threw an icy glance her way, ignoring the momentary rush of pain that followed his abrupt reply. "Has it ever occurred to you, Katherine, that my thoughts are private? I don't like having my mind pried into and I wish you'd stop it. Just leave me alone." "But, Christopher," she cried in surprise. "I'm only trying to help, to understand you." "I don't want or need your understanding! What I want is to be left alone to do my job. The last thing I need is to have some… meddling female... sticking her nose into my business." The sarcasm in his voice brought hurt tears to Katie's eyes. She bit her lip to prevent angry words of her own from spilling out to make matters worse. Instead, she sat very quietly for a few minutes until she could speak normally. Then looking up at his veiled, scowling face, she said, "You're right, Christopher. I've meddled where I shouldn't have. I apologize and you may be certain it won't happen again."

Tulane kept his gaze averted the rest of the way to McGee's farm, unable to trust himself to maintain this chilly front if he saw the hurt his unkind words had caused her. He heard enough in her voice to know he had wounded her feelings badly and knew it would be impossible not to apologize if he saw the result in her face. So he remained silent, sitting rigidly on the wagon seat, trying not to notice her stiff, determined figure on the seat next to him. He did not need her sympathy, he kept reminding himself. It was better to hurt her feelings now than to allow her to get any closer. He must keep her at arms length at any cost. Making her dislike him was the only way he could think of. Silently he cursed Matt Wainwright for allowing her on this expedition. Then he cursed himself for allowing her to penetrate the crack in his armor. He had thought himself immune to women after all these years and it was highly disconcerting to learn he still possessed those very emotions he had been trying to snuff out. Well, he thought with a brief glance at her pale, averted face, wise guy, you'll just have to try harder. She'll hate you anyway before this thing is over. It may as well start now before you make a fool of yourself. On the seat beside him, Katie glanced upward quickly through her thick lashes and drew in her breath with a surprised gasp. She caught herself in time to prevent blurting out that nothing he could do would make her hate him, remembering her promise. Her delicately arched brows knitted in thought as she wondered what it was that he was so determined to keep from her and why he thought she would come to hate him. Thankfully McGee's farm came into view to distract her before curiosity got the better of her. CHAPTER TWELVE Katie proved to be a much bigger asset than Tulane anticipated in the days that followed. As the cool days of May stretched into the balmy days of June, the tension between them eased. Tulane pushed himself to the limits of endurance by working all day digging post holes and stringing wire while at the same time keeping alert for another attack from Fletcher. Katie had never known a man who slept less than Tulane. After putting in twelve hour days with the fencing, he was up at all hours patrolling the farm like a restless guard dog, checking the corral and barn

and often riding away into the darkness to take a turn around the valley in case Jake Stoddard was stalking the farmers. She wondered how he managed to keep up the pace. Watching him now as he slammed the post hole diggers into the rich black earth, then lifted them to release the mouthful of dirt beside the hole, Katie marveled at his stamina. She was seated on the seat of the wire wagon taking a breather from digging. Removing her worn gloves, she rubbed the palms of her hands against the thighs of the work pants while she squinted into the intermittent sunlight. It was impossible not to admire his strength as he steadily swung the diggers in smooth arcs. The heat of the afternoon sun prompted most of the men to remove their shirts. Katie smiled slightly at the initial embarrassment the men had shown, preferring to swelter in the heat rather than remove their shirts in her presence until Tulane made the first move. After that they pealed off their shirts as soon as the sun became uncomfortable without more than a momentary pause. If it ever occurred to Tulane to be embarrassed Katie was not aware of it. She was learning that Tulane was not easily embarrassed by much of anything. As such, she realized he did not give taking his shirt off in her presence a second thought. She had grown accustomed to watching the muscles bunch in his wide tanned shoulders while he worked, but she had not grown weary of the smooth display of strength revealed with every movement. His skin was the same shade of brown from his neck to his waist, only slightly darker above the neckline from exposure to the sun. As he worked, Katie studied the velvet flow of power from the muscles in his shoulders and upper arms. His back was turned toward her so he was unaware of her interest as she glanced around to make sure the other men were not looking in her direction. Satisfied her curious perusal of Tulane's body was unnoticed, her attention returned to the faint, puckered scar that extended from beneath his left shoulder blade almost to his waist. It was an old scar for the sun had weathered away most of the pinkness, but Katie knew it had once been a hideous wound. Tulane was more slender than his companions. His body lacked the brawny oxen-like qualities of Duncan McGee or Alfred Wilson, but there was a vital, raw energy emanating from him that held Katie's gaze prisoner. She realized she was staring and looked quickly away, reaching into the water pail inside the wagon box for a dipper of water. How many times

over the past three weeks had she caught herself staring at him? She rubbed her forehead irritably, then brushed a tendril of damp hair from her eyes. This was insanity, she told herself again. If she did not come to grips with this irrational fascination soon someone was going to catch on. If not Tulane himself, then one of the others. In the midst of those troubled thoughts a shadow fell across her. She looked up quickly and felt her face burn when Tulane's handsome features formed in her vision. "Want me to take a turn with the diggers?" she asked a bit too eagerly in an effort to avoid his eyes. His head moved negatively as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand. "No, I just wanted a drink of water." Katie handed him a dipper of cool water, then leaned back against the wagon seat to watch him drink it slowly. His skin gleamed like copper from the perspiration that covered his torso. The pectoral muscles in his chest heaved with exertion as he leaned against the wagon for a moment. A trickle of sweat ran down his throat to join the rivulets streaming down his shoulders to change the fur on his chest to damp ringlets that glistened in the light. "It's going to storm, Christopher," she announced with a brief glance toward the sky. "Soon." Tulane followed her glance upward and nodded. Already the clouds were rolling in, dark and ominous with the threat of heavy rain. "I think you're right," he agreed as he swung around to the men who were stretching wire. "Let's call it a day, men," he called to them. "Better get these wagons started for home before the rain sets in." He reached past Katie to pick up his shirt from the back of the wagon seat and slipped it on, fastening the buttons without looking down. "Duncan, take the wagons in. Katherine and I will take my horse. With this storm building, we'll never make it home before it hits if we take the wagon." Duncan McGee nodded in agreement, then hurried to join the others as they stacked their tools in the wagons and scrambled in themselves. In record time they were hurrying toward home. Tulane gave Katie an arm up onto the stallion behind him. The wind whipped the long prairie grass into an angry sea as the big horse sped across the open range. Before they had covered half the distance to the Wainwright homestead the sky was boiling with black storm clouds. Great streaks of lightning slashed through the darkness as the ground vibrated

from the rolling thunder. The early afternoon light was gone, replaced by an eerie gloom that made Katie's nerves jangle. She clung to Tulane with her arms wrapped around his waist and her knees clenched around the stallion as he raced for home. Then the storm hit with all the fury of a hurricane. Rain came down in sheets like waves on the ocean. They were soaked to the skin in seconds. Katie lifted one hand to wipe the rain from her eyes, gasping for breath in the violent wind that seemed to almost lift the horse from his feet. She felt the stallion stumble, then recover quickly, snorting with alarm at the inclement weather. He stumbled again, went almost to his knees in a violent gust of wind. Katie cried out in alarm and would have slipped from his back if Tulane had not grabbed her and pulled her back to safety. She buried her head between his shoulders, clutching his belt as the horse moved forward warily, slinging his head and snorting with fear. Tulane pulled the animal to a dancing halt and twisted in the saddle so Katie could hear him above the howl of the wind. "We've got to get out of this storm, Katherine," he shouted in her ear. "There's an old line cabin of Fletcher's a mile or so ahead. If we can make it there, we'll be out of the wind." Katie did not respond, but kept her head buried between his shoulders. When the stallion began moving again, it was much slower as he picked his way nervously through the waves of wet grass slashing about his ankles. It took all of Tulane's concentration to hold the big animal steady. It seemed the mile journey to cover took an eternity to Katie as she cringed against the protection of Tulane's body. The wind whipped her hair loose from the pins. Her hat was long since lost. She could not open her eyes from the force of the driving rain. She wondered how Tulane and the stallion managed to see where they were for the prairie was a wild sea of wind and water that defied description. She clung to Tulane's belt until her fingers began to cramp, aware only of the storm's fury and the cold wet feel of his shirt against her cheek. Through the darkness, she felt the horse halt and moments later was lifted from the saddle and pushed through a doorway into shelter. She huddled inside the open doorway, shivering from the cold dampness, while Tulane led the horse around the side of the cabin into the leaky lean-to adjoining it.

Moments later she wiped the water streaming from her face and looked about as Tulane pitched his wet Stetson aside to begin exploring the possibility of a fire. He knelt before the rock fireplace at one end of the cabin, grinning with relief at the full firebox. He quickly selected a few small pieces of kindling and took a match from the box above the mantel. In seconds a tiny fire was pushing back the gloom. He added a few larger pieces of dry wood to the kindling and turned on his heels to Katie. The smile on his lips quickly vanished at the obvious panic on her face. Her eyes were enormous in a face suddenly devoid of color as they flicked from one corner of the tiny cabin to the other several times before finally locking with his puzzled gaze. "Katherine? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Katie's tongue darted out to wet her lips as she threw another fleeting glance around at the surroundings. She was trembling, shaking so violently her teeth chattered, making it a supreme effort to speak with any normalcy when she found her voice at last. "I. .I. we. .can't stay here, Christopher," she stammered in a squeaky little voice. Tulane rose to his feet, moving toward her, filled with concern for the panic that consumed her. "Why, Katherine? I'll admit it's no castle and it leaks like a sieve, but it is a roof over our heads. We have a nice fire going and you'll be warm and dry in no time. Come over here by the fire and take the chill off," he suggested, puzzled. Katie shook her head violently as she backed away from his approach. She swallowed hard and wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the dampness, trying to ignore the sharp arching of his brows at her strange behavior. Tulane stared at her, baffled by the fear that radiated from her wide eyes. He paused when she backed away from him to look quickly around the cabin to see if there was something there he'd missed, something that frightened her but he saw nothing. "I can't stay here, Katie repeated again. Her eyes scanned his face, noting the concern, then the confusion in his eyes. "We have to leave. Now." "In this storm?" Tulane questioned incredulously. "Katherine, the horse can't carry both of us in this wind. He's almost fallen a half dozen times. It's much safer here until the storm passes." Katie stared at him in disbelief. Didn't he see it? Didn't he see that

tiny cot along the wall covered with a dusty patchwork quilt? Didn't he realize this place was a trap that would swallow her if she did not escape? "Don't you understand?" she managed to squeak out in a high pitched voice that was completely unfamiliar. "We can't stay here, Christopher. If we do, something will happen, something we'll both be sorry for. I can't let it happen. I can't. The only way to prevent it is to leave. Now!" Tulane's multi-colored eyes widened with sudden insight. He took another sweeping survey of the cabin, hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt, and leaned back against the fireplace mantel to warm himself. "Have you been here before, Katherine?" "No," Katie insisted in a voice bordering on hysteria. "No. I've seen this room a thousand times but no... I've never been here before." "Then you must have dreamed about it," Tulane reasoned slowly, putting the thoughts into words as he mulled it over in his mind. "Is that right, Katherine? Have you dreamed about this place?" Katie's head bobbed nervously while her wary eyes followed his every motion. She realized how crazy she must seem and took a deep breath to steady herself. "What did you dream, Katherine? What are you so afraid of? Me? Are you afraid of me?" Tulane persisted in a gentle, soothing tone as though he were speaking to a child. When she hesitated before answering he asked, "Surely you know I'd never harm you, Katherine. You know that, don't you?" "Please, Christopher, please let's go on home. I don't mind the storm, really, and.. and the horse can take all the time he needs. But please, let's get out of here," Katie pleaded. "You are afraid of me," Tulane said in a soft, puzzled voice. "Why, Katherine? What happened in this cabin in your dreams? Tell me." Katie blinked rapidly several times, trying to gather her wits. She knew confessing her dreams would be a mistake, make her too vulnerable. She was vulnerable enough already. "You. .I. .I mean. .we. .something we shouldn't have…" Her voice trailed off into nothing. She looked away quickly, but not before Tulane saw the sparkle of tears fill her eyes. She bit her bottom lip as she studied the rain streaming down the cracked window pane at one side of the cabin. She felt foolish and frightened, but at the same time strangely excited. She had feared this moment for months, wondered how she would react to this very situation but now that fate had presented it, she was suddenly

calmer She drew a long shuddering breath and moved past Tulane to the fire, holding her hands above the cheerful flames. She was in control now and turning, she met his curious gaze squarely. "I've had the same dream for months. Always the same. At first it was sort of vague, the man had no face." She paused to swallow nervously but the silent expectation in Tulane's oddly made her eager to tell him and have it out in the open. "I never even knew this place really existed until now. I've only seen it in my dreams but it's exactly the same, even the patchwork quilt on the bed," she said with a jerky motion toward the cot. "Then, when I saw you that day on the road from town, I knew that you were. you were.." "The man in your dream?" She nodded, blushing, then glanced away briefly before finding the courage to continue. "Yes, the man in my dreams. This place. .don't you see, Christopher, that we have to leave here? If we don't. something will happen, something I'll be sorry for. My dreams, Christopher, my dreams always come true." "What happened between us in your dreams, Katherine?" Tulane questioned in a soft, almost amused voice. "Did we make love in your dreams?" When Katie's wet, graceful head moved in a brief embarrassed nod, he smiled, then moved away to sit down on the edge of the creaking cot and tug at his boots. "Why would that be such a terrible thing, Katherine?" he asked mildly as one boot came free to drop onto the rough plank flooring. Katie's face filled with surprise at the amused tone of his voice. She lifted an alarmed gaze in his direction. "Because it's wrong!" she blurted out. "I'm married!" "So?" "I love my husband," she said vehemently. "I know that," Tulane replied as the other boot dropped to the floor. "But that's got nothing to do with me. Marriage is one thing, Katherine, and a good healthy roll in the hay is another. I'm a firm believer in marriage. I was married once, remember?" While Katie stared spellbound, he rose and moved slowly toward her, his wet sock-feet leaving tracks in the dust on the floor of the cabin. He paused in front of her, not touching, yet Katie could feel the heat rising from his body, could feel it reaching out to warm her, taking the chill from the room.

"Is that what you want from me, Katherine?" he asked in a soft, nerve jangling tone that caressed her like a touch. "Is that why you've been so concerned about me all this time? Why you watch me when you don't think anybody is looking?" "I. .I...love my husband," she stammered. Her breath was suddenly labored, her heart pounding against her ribcage as he lifted one hand and gently touched her cheek. "You said that before. What's the matter, Katherine? You been married so long that you're bored with Matt? You wonder what it would be like to sleep with another man? Is that it, Katherine?" Her lips parted to protest, but before she could make a sound, his hand moved behind her head, drawing her toward him in one strong sweep. The protest in her mind dissolved into a whimper as his lips came crushing down upon hers, demanding, taunting, and yet strangely sensual as he explored the inner regions of her mouth with a skillful tongue. His arms slipped around her, drawing her tightly against his body, molding her flesh into his. Katie fought to regain her senses, struggling desperately to overcome the deluge of desire that whipped through her veins. Sensing her panic, Tulane pressed her closer, kissing her deeper still until her mind reeled and reason was swept into oblivion. "Is this what you want, Katherine?" he whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Is that what you dreamed about?" "Yes, yes, Christopher," she whispered in a raw voice while she pressed still closer to his body. Abruptly Tulane pushed her away from him, staring at her through narrowed, scornful eyes. She regained her balance and lifted passionate eyes to look at him, bewildered. Tulane's eyes narrowed with contempt as she backed away from him, frightened now. "Sorry to disappoint you, Katherine, but I'm not one of your damned strays looking for a handout." "What.. .you don't understand, Christopher," Katie cried. "In the twelve years I've been with Matthew I've never even looked at another man. Until you, I never thought about being unfaithful. Never!" "What makes me so special?" "You are special, Christopher," she implored. "I don't know why but you are. You make me feel like I've never felt in my whole life. Like Matthew has never made me feel. I can't explain it. If I could I might have some defense against it, but I don't. I'm helpless against you. I know I'll be sorry if I'm unfaithful to my husband but, God forgive me, I want you too

much to care." Tulane's eyes became a rich, warm silver glow as he studied her in the dim firelight. Her lips had begun to tremble as tears began to seep from beneath her thick lashes. She turned away, staring into the fire as waves of humiliation swept over her. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder turning her gently to face him, then drawing her into his arms to cradle her face in the hollow of his shoulder. "You're the most honest woman I've known in a long time, Katherine," he murmured hoarsely. "I'm sorry I've been such rotten company lately. I couldn't seem to help it. Matt warned me that you didn't mean anything personal by your concern for me. He said you're always taking in strays and I didn't want to be one of them. I won't be one of your noble causes, Katherine. There's nothing I'd like better than making love to you but not if it's because you feel sorry for me. Understand?" "Yes, Christopher," she murmured against the warm velvet of his throat. "Good," he said in a relieved voice as he held her at arms length and smiled down at her. "But I have to warn you that I may not be able to live up to your expectations. I haven't really made love to a woman since.. for eight years. I'm not sure if I can, not the way you deserve." Katie's lips silenced the rest of his statement. Her brain screamed at her to stop, to end this insanity before it went too far but her body turned a deaf ear. She was on fire, her blood had turned to liquid flame. Her bones dissolved into ashes from his touch, her mind into a puddle of sensual delight. Tulane interrupted the kiss by pulling free of her arms and moving quickly to close the creaky door and slide the latch into place. He glanced out the broken window at the sheets of icy rain, then looked back to Katie with a smile. "This storm looks like it could last all night. We may as well make ourselves as comfortable as we can. This place looks pretty well supplied, Katherine. Why don't you take a look around, see if whoever used it last left any food around? I'll unsaddle the horse and bring in the blanket to dry." Katie drew a long breath and nodded. While he went into the lean-to and unsaddled the stallion, she looked around and found several cans of food on a shelf below the window. Moments later Tulane reappeared carrying the saddle blanket and spread it out in front of the fire. "It's not completely soaked. At least we

don't have to sit on the floor," he told her as he sank down onto the blanket. Katie sat down beside him. Spreading out the cans of food she pointed to each one. "We have beans, and in this one we have beans, and in this larger one we have beans. Which do you want, Christopher?" she asked with a giggle. "I'll have this one," Tulane replied with a grin as he lifted the long bladed knife from the scabbard on his belt and deftly removed the top from the tin can. "It's too bad there wasn't any of that fried chicken left from lunch. That would make a real picnic." "This will do nicely," Katie assured him with a slight smile as she took the can he opened for her. "See, I even located some spoons." They ate in silence, listening to the steady pelting of the rain on the tin roof. The cheery fire lit the tiny room with a bright glow that warmed the chill in the air to make it a cozy place. Katie looked at Tulane, studying his serious expression across the blanket, then broke the quiet with a smile. "No, Christopher, I'm not worried about the children," she said intuitively, smiling at the surprise that sprang to his face. "They're safe at home with Matthew so there's no reason to worry." Tulane stared at her in surprise for a second, then smiled ruefully as he shook his head. "What about you, Katherine? Are you still afraid?" Her midnight blue gaze met his evenly, sparkling in the firelight as she shook her head. "No, Christopher, I'm not afraid. I have never been afraid of you, not even in the beginning. It's myself I'm afraid of; the feelings you bring to life in me that I've never had before. That frightens me." He listened intently while she spoke. She was incredible, her beauty beyond description, even soaked to the skin with her long hair matted to her head from the drenching. "It's you that's afraid, Christopher," she went on quietly. "You're afraid of me, but you needn't be. I'm married and I intend to remain married. Whatever happens tonight won't change that so you needn't worry that I'm going to make a fool of myself." "I'm not worried about that," Tulane replied in that same serious vein. "You're an extraordinary woman, Katherine. I've never known anyone like you. I just don't want you to get hurt. I have a way of hurting the people who are important to me." Katie's eyes glowed softly in the firelight as she met the sensual expression he was sending her across the blanket. "I'm not a child,

Christopher. My conscience is not your problem. I'm simply a woman with an unusual talent. Most women have no warning if they're going to meet a man who will turn their lives upside down, but I had that warning, repeatedly, and I chose to ignore it. "I convinced Matthew to hire you, knowing that you were the man in my dreams, knowing what would happen if you stayed, but I couldn't help myself. I just couldn't fight it. After meeting you, I didn't want to fight it." Tulane did not speak but lay down on his side and propped his chin up with one hand, listening to her. Listening not only to her words but to the soft sincere quality in her voice that was like music to his senses. "You see, Christopher, I've tried many times to change the future. Times when I knew something was going to happen, I've tried to alter it, but it doesn't work. Whatever I see in my dreams comes true. It's useless to resist. I've tried and failed too often not to know that." "Does Matt know about these dreams?" She shook her head with a glance up at the waves of rain hitting the cracked window pane. "No, I've never told him. How could I? How could I possibly make him understand that I've dreamed of being with a man who makes me feel things I've never felt with him?" "What kind of things?" Tulane inquired in a gentle tone as he reached to toy with the end of the wet braid of hair that rested in Katie's lap. She flushed slightly, looking away from the heat rising in his eyes. "Things I don't really understand. I want to be with you, Christopher, in ways I've never even thought about Matthew. I mean, when I'm close to you I notice the way you smell, the way the wind sifts through your hair, the way the muscles tense up in your shoulders when you look at me. "I feel warm and funny inside. I want you to hold me in your arms. I want to kiss you, know how it feels to make love with you. I want to know everything about you and I want you to know me. Does that sound foolish?" Tulane's head moved negatively as he smiled. His white teeth were a splash of brilliance against the bronze texture of his skin, his eyes a rich silver that reflected the emotions Katie had just described. "You know you're going to be sorry later. What you're feeling, Katherine, is not unusual. You married Matt at a very young age. You've never been with another man. You're curious. You're bored with sleeping with the same man every night, always making love the same way. You're restless. You're craving a little excitement in your life… and I'm it."

Katie stared at him, then nodded briefly in agreement. "Perhaps you're right. I'm sure I will be sorry later, but I also know that what I saw in my dreams is going to happen, Christopher. Here. .tonight. And it will never happen again because I won't allow it. I truly love my husband but I can't help the way I feel about you. If that makes me a wicked, sinful woman, then I can't help that either." "You could never be wicked, Katherine, or sinful. One night with me doesn't change your relationship with Matt. I'll be gone in a few weeks but Matt is a rock. He'll be here long after I'm gone. One thing has nothing to do with the other." Katie stared at him silently while nervously smoothing the damp corners of the worn shirt she was wearing. Then, without speaking, Tulane tugged at the long braid of hair and Katie went into his arms. Their lips met. Tulane gently kissed her, first her soft mouth, then her eyelids and the warm velvet of her throat, then moved back to her 1ips with a kiss that burned her mouth with the raw need in him. Katie heard a low groan deep in his throat, felt his skillful fingers loosen her clothing and remove it. She felt a momentary chill when the air hit her naked flesh but then she was back in his arms with his warmth keeping back the briskness in the cabin. She relaxed in his embrace, gave in completely to the waves of sensual delight that showered upon her from his lips. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers massaged the cords of muscle in his shoulders. She could scarcely catch her breath. She felt she was drowning in a vibrant sea of swirling emotion. Then his clothing was gone and their bodies touched. Katie welcomed him into her body. She gasped with pleasure, but it was smothered beneath his crushing lips as he kissed her still more deeply. His sleek powerful body made deep penetrating thrusts into her, making her gasp for breath while her own flesh devoured him. Her body was out of control, her needs had taken charge, turned her blood to fire that was steadily fed by his touch. A slow burning ache started deep inside her and roared upward throughout her body, sending her mind spiraling dizzily past all restraints. She arched sharply upward, straining, convulsing as his own release came, then shuddering, lay back in his arms and waited for sanity to return. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Katie lay wrapped in the rough blanket from the cot listening to the steady pelting of the rain on the tin roof of the cabin. It was a contented sound that helped soothe her jangled nerves. In the lean-to the black stallion snorted softly and shuffled about, then was silent. Katie reached out to touch the satiny muscles in Tulane's back when he sat up to place more wood on the fire. He settled back down, slipped beneath the blanket with her, and slid his arm beneath her head so she could snuggle closer. In the aftermath of making love his skin gleamed with a light film of perspiration, his deep mahogany hair spilled rakishly over his forehead. He smiled at her contented face, but Katie sensed a deep unrest in him. "Tell me about her, Christopher," she suggested softly, smiling at the astonishment that filled his eyes. "You were thinking about your wife, weren't you?" He nodded as he stared into the darkness beyond the cabin window. "Tell me how she died." "I killed her, Katherine," he said in a strained tone, refusing to meet her eyes. "That's all there is to it." "No, it isn't all," Katie contradicted quietly. She lifted one hand to smooth back the silky locks of chestnut hair, letting her fingers play along the lines that had suddenly developed in his forehead. "There's a great deal more that you want to share with me. You've never told anyone what really happened to your family and it's eating away at you inside. You trust me, Christopher. You want to tell me." Tulane lay very still for a few moments staring at the leaky ceiling of the cabin. Then he drew a long breath and nodded. He did not look at Katie but kept his eyes focused on the ceiling where a drop of water was running down a rafter to drip onto the rough plank floor near the iron cot. "She was very beautiful, Katherine. I loved her with every ounce of my soul," he began in a low, strained voice. "She was like you in some ways." He glanced at Katie with a slight smile. "She was gentle and loving; the kindest person I've ever known. "I fell in love with her when I was ten years old. Her family was Creole like mine. They lived nearby when we were growing up. She had dark skin and these great dark eyes that glowed when she was happy. "We were married my senior year at the Point. My oldest son was born the year the war broke out. His name was Andrew and he had these dimples..."

His voice faded away for a moment as he swallowed and tried to gather his thoughts again. "When the war was over we had nothing left. I didn't know anything but the army. It's all I ever wanted. .to be a soldier. "I tried to make a go of it, but there was no money to rebuild... nothing. Then an old friend from the Point was placed in charge of New Orleans and he looked me up, offered me a commission. Of course I had to leave Louisiana to accept it. Feeling was still very high against the Federals so there was no way I could've stayed around once I put on a Federal uniform." Katie nodded in understanding as she touched his arm, silently urging him to continue. "Priscilla never once complained about having to leave the South. She'd never known any other kind of life, but she packed up what little we had and followed me to half a dozen assignments until we finally landed in Arizona nine years ago. "My second son Benjamin was born along the way at some miserable outpost or other. I can't remember, there were so many. But Priscilla kept smiling, kept right on being the best wife any man could ever have. She made do with what meager salary I made, raised our boys to respect their elders and be proud of who they were." He paused to draw a deep breath. Katie felt a tremor run through his body, felt the pain inside him, and squeezed his arm to give him strength. "Then when I was assigned to the cavalry in Arizona, we thought things were looking up. I was a major by then, making a halfway decent living. I had my own regiment, a nice house on Officer's Row, and Priscilla was beginning to have the things she deserved after so many hard years. "But along with the increased rank and income came added responsibilities. The Apaches were on the warpath and I was gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time. And even when I was home I couldn't sleep, couldn't relax, couldn't get my mind off the atrocities I saw every time I went out on patrol. "I became so wrapped up in my job that I failed to realize I was neglecting Priscilla and the boys. I never thought about all those empty, endless days and nights when I was away and she was left alone with two small children. "I didn't believe the rumors when I first started hearing them. I knew something was going on because I'd walk up to a group of my men and they'd stop talking, look funny. Embarrassed, you know?" Katie nodded that she understood and swallowed. She felt the tension

building in him, saw it in the depths of those startling mosaic eyes when he glanced at her. "One of my scouts was a Navajo named Caesar. He was a young buck, good looking for an Indian and he thought Priscilla was an angel. She gave him a pocket watch when he rescued Andrew from a rattler once and after that he'd have thrown himself over a cannon for her. "Anyway, it got back to me that Priscilla was sleeping with him and like a damned fool, I accused her of it. We had a terrible fight and then I got called out on patrol before we had a chance to settle it and make up." He stopped talking and sat up, rubbing one hand over his eyes as though in pain. Katie sat up quietly, watching him stare into the cheery flames for a few moments before he swallowed and went on. "We were met by a messenger, telling me to return to the fort immediately because Crooked Hand had attacked a supply train just a few miles from the post. "When I got back, I found a note from Priscilla saying she had taken the boys and was going back to Louisiana. Caesar was escorting her to a stage depot where she could catch a stage out of the territory. "I don't know which scared me more; knowing that she had left me or that she was riding into Apache country. Anyway, I went after them, just me and Jake." "Jake Stoddard?" Katie interjected in surprise. Tulane nodded with a rueful smile that did not reach his eyes. "Yes, he was my aide. I didn't have time to assemble the regiment and even if there had been time, the general wouldn't have given me permission to take that many men from the fort with Crooked Hand so close. So I went after them alone. "They never got to the way station. The Apaches hit them five miles from the fort. I saw the smoke three miles away. .knew I was too late." His voice broke and he rubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand. His body shuddered with the memory but he cleared his throat and forced himself to continue. "The carriage was still smoking when I got there. Caesar was dead; they'd shot him and then when they discovered he was still alive they tied him over one of the wheels and burned him to death. A favorite entertainment of the Apache," he said grimly. Katie began to tremble. Tears stung her eyes as she bit her bottom lip to control its quivering. Tulane's voice had gone empty, hollow. The only emotion she saw in him now was the agony that blazed in his eyes. It came

from deep inside him, like a festering wound, so raw and ugly it twisted his lips into thin lines of hate. "Both my sons had been axed, scalped, thrown about like two rag dolls. Priscilla's clothes were all around, thrown everywhere, but I didn't see her. Then I heard this noise, like a kitten whimpering. It was coming from inside the carriage but it was a long time before I could make myself look inside. "Jake offered, but I wouldn't let him get close. I made him stay back until I finally found the courage to open what was left of the carriage door. She was still alive, although I'll never know how. Maybe God meant for me to find her like that. barely alive.. to punish me for neglecting her. They had.. raped her. mutilated her.. and left her for dead. "There was nothing I could do for her. She was dying, but she was in unspeakable agony. She recognized me.. she grabbed my arm.. she begged me to kill her, to put her out of that horror. "I did the only merciful thing I could. I shot her in the head. The last thing she said before I killed her was that she loved me and that she was sorry she'd failed me." He buried his head in his hands. His body shook with the pain that ripped through him. Katie pulled him into her arms, cradling his head and smoothing his hair. "It's all right, Christopher," she crooned softly while her tears fell onto his hair. "She failed me! My God! She was the best thing that ever happened to me and I killed her! It was all my fault, but she thought she'd failed me!" Katie laid her cheek against the warm satin of his hair and swallowed hard. "It took great courage to do what you did, Christopher. And great love." His head jerked up in a curt negative motion as he raised up from her embrace to rub absently at his eyes. "Love? No, Katherine, not love. If I'd shown her how much I loved her, none of it would have happened. I drove her away from me with my goddamned sense of duty and my unreasonable jealousy. I was a fool. I lost sight was truly important and I've paid for it with every breath for the last eight years." The bitterness in his voice made Katie's heart ache. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him and take some of the pain away but he had become distant, withdrawn into a black pit of despair. "You're the strongest man I've ever known, Christopher," she told him quietly, smiling at the surprised expression on his face when he lifted his head to stare at her. "A weak man could not have found the courage to end

her suffering, nor to live with his actions afterward." They were both silent for a time. They sat quietly staring into the flames, each with their own thoughts in a silence broken only by the drumming of the rain on the roof and the crackling of the fire. When finally Tulane glanced at Katie with a calmer expression, she could tell the pain had eased a little, for that haunted appearance in his eyes had lessened. "The next few months are only a blur. I guess I went a little crazy. I killed every Indian I could find for weeks, hoping I would eventually find Crooked Hand." "Did you find him?" "Yes And I killed him with all the depravity he killed my family. I butchered him, made sure he died slowly while I watched." "Did it help?" Katie asked softly. He glanced at her and slowly shook his head. "No. Oh, I suppose it did for the moment. Then I realized I'd become just as barbaric and inhuman as he was." A short bitter chuckle came from deep inside him at the memory. "Funny though, it just didn't matter anymore. I was empty inside. I didn't even care that I had become a butcher myself. I didn't care about anything but killing Apaches. After a while I realized I was out of control. I was leading my men into unnecessary fights, killing when it was avoidable, taking unnecessary risks." "That's when you left the army." "Yes. I left probably one step ahead of a court martial. By that time I'd earned quite a reputation. People on the post avoided me. My own men were scared of me and I guess I must have been pretty scary to be around. So I quit before I made some stupid blunder that might have wiped out my regiment." "That was an honorable thing to do, Christopher," Katie offered quietly. "It wasn't honorable, Katherine," he disagreed with a rueful smile. "If I hadn't quit, one of my own men would've shot me in the back sooner or later. They didn't know me anymore… hell, I didn't even know myself. "But honor? No," he shook his head slowly. "I buried my honor the day I buried my family It was my goddamned honor that caused the whole thing. Too bad I didn't bury it sooner. My wife and my boys might still be alive." Katie's eyes were filled with sadness as she watched the bitter despair in his face in the firelight. "And you've never allowed yourself to care about

anyone or anything since. You're still punishing yourself for what happened to your family. It's been a long time, Christopher. Isn't it time you forgave yourself?" she asked gently. "I'll never forgive myself, Katherine. My entire family was butchered because of me. They died the most horrible way imaginable, but God let me live to punish me for my stupidity. Nothing I can ever do will make up for the way I failed them." "So you intend to go on not letting anyone get close, not caring about anyone ever again?" The quiet challenge in her voice brought his head up, the dullness in his eyes changing to wariness. "Don't you understand yet, Katherine? There's nothing left in me. I'm empty inside. Like a dry well. The only thing in here," he told her curtly while tapping himself on the chest, "is dust. Dry and dirty and ugly. I don't care about anything. I can't. It's all gone." Katie shook her head. She lifted one hand to touch his cheek, to turn his face toward her so he had to look into her eyes. "That's not true, Christopher," she contradicted firmly. "There's a great deal of good in you buried deeply somewhere beneath all the pain and self-destruction. You still care about things. If you didn't you wouldn't be here helping us in our fight with Fletcher. "And you wouldn't be here with me. You just made love to me, Christopher, in a way I didn't believe was possible," she added in a softer tone as a blush crept into her cheeks. "All my life I thought there was something missing in me because I had no desire for love making. In twelve years of marriage I've never known what it was to really want a man, to feel real desire or excitement. until tonight. God forgive me for finding that fulfillment in the arms of another man, but I found that with you. "For the first time in my life I feel like a woman, Christopher. I know what it means to crave a man's touch and to experience true satisfaction. A man who is empty inside could not be as caring or considerate as you were with me just now You have a great deal left to give if you'll only give yourself the chance." Tulane stared at her in silence for a few moments while he digested her words. Then a slow smile filtered over his handsome face, changing the tight lines of bitterness into a gentleness that made Katie feel tingly all over. "You really believe that, don't you, Katherine?" he asked in a low, husky voice, smiling at her enthusiastic nod of agreement. "You're wrong, you know. I'm a hard, bitter man and that's not going to change. But

tonight, here with you, I almost believe you, Katherine. But then you have a way of making a man believe just about anything." While she stared at him questioningly, the smile became a solemn expression that made her heart pound with renewed excitement. Then he pulled her back into his arms and buried his face in the warm velvet hollow of her throat. "I may be a fool, Katherine, but I'm not foolish enough to waste what time we have tonight. In the cold light of day you'll feel differently about what we've done, but before reality sets in to spoil it, I'm going to make love to you again. Katie met his lips eagerly, her arms closing around his neck, and her fingertips digging into the lean muscles of his shoulders as he gently laid her down onto the rough blanket. Her eyes closed. Her lips parted willingly to allow his tongue the entrance it sought as he skillfully ignited that unfamiliar, provocative flame inside her once more. He was in complete control of her emotions as he fanned the flame of desire higher and higher with teasing, then deeply sensual kisses that took her breath and left her gasping for more. His warm mouth touched, explored places she had never been touched before. He trailed hot, damp kisses down her face and throat, arriving at the coral tipped peaks of her breasts, lingering to tease each nipple into fiery erectness, then moving slowly down the velvet hollow of her stomach. His lips left a white hot path of delight as they slowly moved over her silky flesh. Katie felt helpless against the tides of passion that swept unchecked over her. For a few fleeting moment, she tried to remember her marriage vows, tried to remember that she was violating everything she believed in, but it was useless. She gave in to the delightful yearning inside her body and lay back in his arms with a gasp of pleasure. She realized he was taking more time than before, skillfully arousing every fiber of her being, as though he was afraid of overlooking some part of her that he had left untouched. He kissed her eyelids, her throat, then finally her lips. Her hands moved hungrily over his body, exploring shyly at first, then more confidently. The smooth muscles felt like cords of steel beneath the heat of his skin as she leaned above him to kiss his neck, his shoulders, and to trail curious fingers down his chest and across his hard, flat stomach. Then when she could stand it no longer, he covered her damp, trembling body with his own and began a slow tantalizing climb to new heights of desire.

Katie gasped with pleasure, urging him onward with muted whispers of delight until her flesh melted into liquid fire and her back arched upward in a final spasm of release. As he moved to lay beside her and cradle her head in the hollow of his shoulder, Katie opened heavy lids and sighed contentedly. Within moments she was fast asleep, but Tulane lay awake until dawn's gray light brought relief from the storm. He watched her peacefully sleeping and shook his head in wonder. In only a few minutes this beautiful, gentle woman had brought back to life emotions and needs he had kept buried for years. His eyes warmed with affection, then he gave a small snort of contempt. "You're a goddamned fool, Chris," he said aloud softly. "Nothing's changed; she's going to wake up and be Matt Wainwright's wife again, like this never happened." He sighed heavily and stared into the gray, dismal dawn. CHAPTER FOURTEEN Katie slowly awoke. The damp crispness of a gray dawn seeped in through the dingy windows to bath the cabin in soft light. She blinked a few times and sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily, then smiled as her vision focused on Tulane's broad bare shoulders in the open doorway of the cabin. ''Good morning," she murmured to his profile. "You better get dressed, Katherine." Her brows arched in surprise at the flat tone of his voice. She had not known what to expect after such a passionate night but his coolness was certainly not what she envisioned. "What's wrong, Christopher?" Tulane turned to look at her, steeling himself against the hurt in her eyes. She was still curled up in the blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace her honey-beige hair tumbled around her shoulders like a little girl. The slight tremble in her lips gave her the appearance of a child who had just been scolded without knowing why. The confusion on her face made the tightness in Tulane's chest even more painful. "It's morning, Katherine," he said in that same flat tone. "It's time to go home. Your husband must be worried." The slight emphasis he placed on the word "husband" caught Katie's attention. She rose from the floor, clutching the blanket to cover herself,

and padded silently to the doorway where he stood, now staring into the gray morning light. She observed the tension in his manner, the tiny lines of fatigue around his lips and eyes, realizing he had not slept at all. In spite of that he was still the most handsome man she'd ever known. Without being aware of her eyes warmed while one hand let go of the blanket's to steal outward to caress the satin of his bare shoulder. Tulane pulled away from the tender gesture. He moved past her into the shadows of the cabin to retrieve his shirt. Shrugging into it and hurriedly fastening the buttons, he paused to glance at her with a scowl darkening his face. "Why are you so distant, Christopher?" she asked in that hurt, bewildered little voice. "Why are you so cold? I thought that after last night..." "That was last night, Katherine," he cut in. He was buckling the gunbelt into place and tying it down to his thigh with the rawhide thong while he stared at her. "This is this morning." "Do you feel guilty, Christopher?" she asked insightfully Tulane picked her clothes up from the heap on the floor and stepped across the narrow room to hold them out to her, waiting impatiently for her to take them. "Don't you?" he asked gruffly. "Haven't the pangs of guilt hit you yet?" Katie stared at him for a moment before dropping her gaze from the sardonic gleam in his eyes, then quickly looked back at his snort of contempt. "Because they will, Katherine, just like we both knew they would. Sooner or later you'll ask yourself how you could've done something so awful, how you could've been unfaithful." "Yes, I suppose I will," Katie replied quietly. She took the bundle of clothing and moved briskly into the shadows to dress. She kept her back toward Tulane when the blanket dropped to the floor, but she knew he was watching her. Yet when she glanced over her shoulder, he was deliberately avoiding her gaze. "You're not feeling guilty because of last night," she remarked in a calm, matter of fact tone while she slipped into the worn work clothes. "You're feeling guilty because you broke a vow to yourself never to feel anything again. It's not me that you're angry with, although you'd like me to think so. It's yourself. You're angry with yourself because you discovered

you're still capable of deep, tender feelings. Feelings you've tried very hard to bury." "Is that your analysis, Katherine?" he snapped. "Have you searched my mind with your crystal ball and decided what it is I'm feeling?" Katie did not reply but lifted her head defiantly, then began to tidy up the room. "Well, you're wrong, you know," Tulane added curtly. He strode outside, returning in a few minutes leading the black stallion, carrying the saddle in his other hand. Katie gathered her thoughts as she walked out into the brisk morning air to watch while he threw the saddle on the big horse with such hostility it made the black snort and prance uneasily. "Am I wrong, Christopher?" she asked quietly. "Yes," he grunted without looking at her. He tightened the cinches with practiced ease, then finally turned to face her. "Last night was a big mistake, Katherine," he said in a calm, resigned voice. "Let's just forget it." "Why, Christopher? Last night was wonderful, but it doesn't change anything. I'm not going to tell Matthew about it in a fit of conscience, but I do want us to be friends. Is that asking too much?" Tulane studied her silently. She had twisted the long strands of hair into a loose braid that coiled around her head, had covered her body with the shabby work clothes from the previous day, but he had only to close his eyes to see the way she had looked last night. A muscle ticked in his jaw at the memory of her lying naked in his arms before the fireplace, of the passion that blazed from her half closed eyes as their bodies entwined. Then he shook himself mentally and a bleakness passed through his face. "No, Katherine, I don't think we can ever be friends. Not after last night." Surprise arched her brows. "Why not?" He did not answer but lifted his head abruptly to stare into the distance. "Get back into the cabin, Katherine," he ordered while removing the latch from the hammer of his pistol. "Someone's coming." Katie did not move, but nodded toward the faint sounds of an approaching horseman. "It's Taryn Fletcher," she said matter of factly. A grim smile touched Tulane's lips in the moments before Taryn materialized from the mists. "I should've known," he grunted, but Katie did not know if he was referring to her prediction of who their visitor was, or if he meant he was not surprised that Taryn Fletcher was on the prowl.

Taryn reined her pony to a halt before the cabin but made no move to dismount. Instead she sat on her mount, shook one foot free of the stirrup and hooked the leg around the saddle horn while observing them in amusement. "Well, well, isn't this cozy?" she smirked with a pointed glance at Katie. "Don't tell me the storm kept the two of you here all night." "Isn't it a little early for you to be out of your cage?" Tulane remarked dryly. An amused smile parted Taryn's sensual lips as she cast a speculative glance first at Katie, then back to Tulane. "I like to ride early in the morning after a storm," she replied. "The air is so fresh and clean and the fog makes it seem like I'm the only person in the world." "Lucky for the world." Taryn's black eyes narrowed at the sarcasm in Tulane's voice, but another smile played at her lips as she looked past him to Katie. "I'm sure the two of you were snug and warm here last night while the storm howled outside," she suggested. "Why, I wouldn't be at all surprised if you weren't sorry to see the storm pass." "Is there a reason for this unexpected pleasure or are you just prowling the range?" His question brought Taryn's attention back from Katie's pale face. "As a matter of fact, Tulane, I was on my way to see Matt Wainwright. How lucky that I decided to stop off here on the way." She paused, waiting for his comment, but when he kept silent, staring at her in that slight bored manner that made her itch to scratch his eyes out, she shrugged and finished the thought. "That was some fight a few days back. I hear you've been teaching these nesters how to shoot. Too bad it's such a waste of time because we're going to win in the end. You know that, don't you, Tulane?" "That remains to be seen, doesn't it?" The confident tone of his voice set Taryn's teeth on edge, made her eyes narrow contemptuously. "Oh, we'll win all right," she repeated. Her leg flipped back into the stirrup as she straightened in the saddle. "We always win. You don't seriously think this pathetic bunch of clod-hoppers is any threat, do you?" "I'd say they're doing pretty well." "Only because of you. If they didn't have you to lead them, they'd fold up and vanish into the sunset."

"Are you coming to a point?" The challenge in his voice made Taryn see red, made her careless in the effort to erase that confident, scornful expression from his handsome face. "The point, Tulane, is that it seems to me the fastest, most effective way to end this unpleasantness is simply to kill you. I'm surprised Justin hasn't thought of it already. I'll have to point it out to him at dinner." "You do that." The sharp intake of Katie's breath caused Taryn to glance toward her. The alarm in Katie's pale face fed the girl's vengeful nature, filling her with pleasure. "And what could be more perfect than for Matt Wainwright to kill you for us?" A speculative gleam lit her eyes and her lips pursed into a satisfied smile. "Yes, yes, that would be just perfect. And now that I've caught you and his lily-white wife in the act of adultery, it shouldn't be too hard to arrange." "Go ahead, Taryn." Tulane's cool drawl brought the girl to a halt as she began to turn her horse. She turned back to stare at him, chilled suddenly by the calmness in his face and the underlying current of barely controlled fury she recognized in the icy depths of his eyes. "Tell Matt whatever you like; make up as big a tale as you can. But I'll make you a promise. If your lies should cause me to have kill him, I'll be coming after you. And trust me, Taryn, you won't be so smug when I get through with you." Taryn knew instinctively he was completely serious. She stared at him in alarm for a second, then whirled her horse and disappeared into the gray mist. Katie laid a trembling hand on Tulane's arm. "She means it, Christopher. She'll do whatever she can to destroy us." "Are you afraid she'll convince Matt she caught us in a compromising position? Katie stared up at him in silence for a moment, then slowly shook her head. "No. Matt will never believe anything she might tell him. She'll never convince him that I've been unfaithful. That's not what worries me." "Then what?" Katie's eyes held the hint of tears as she looked past him into the distance where Taryn's horse had disappeared. "What worries me is that I'm more concerned about her threat to you than anything she might tell Matthew."

Tulane's dark brows rose in alarm at the soft, sincere quality of her voice. The concern on her face was like a punch in the stomach. "Don't worry about me," he grunted with as much conviction as he could muster. "I've been shot at before. Better worry about yourself." "Why?" "Because you've got as much chance of keeping Matt from getting suspicious as I have of flying. Face it, Katherine, you've had your fling at adultery. Now it's time to face your husband and pretend nothing happened. Good luck. You'll need it." The pain that flashed into her face made his throat ache with the desire to take her into his arms and tell her he didn't mean those ugly things. Then he reminded himself sharply that it was the only way he could make her cautious. If he could make her sorry for last night, even make her hate him, she would be far less likely to confess to Matt. He hated himself for the hurt that filled her eyes and made her lips quiver as he lifted her onto the stallion. It would have been easier to cut his tongue out than to hurt her but it was the best thing he could do to protect her, not only from telling Matt the truth and destroying her marriage, but to protect her from the feelings growing inside her. Feelings that left to flourish, would destroy them both. CHAPTER FIETEEN Taryn strolled into Justin's office, nonchalantly polishing a large red apple on the sleeve of her flannel shirt. Her black eyes danced with amusement at the exasperation that crossed her half brother's face when he glanced up from the ledgers spread out before him to notice her. "Well, dear brother, how are we doing this month?" she asked in a sugary voice with a nod toward the ledgers. "Not very damned well!" Justin snapped in reply. "We've got to get the herds to water if we're to salvage anything and the only substantial supply is behind Wainwright's goddamned fence!" "I should think last night's rain would be of some help. The streams I crossed on my ride were running full." Taryn's gaze shifted from Justin's worried face to Jake Stoddard who sat across the desk chewing thoughtfully on the stub of a cigar. "Only momentarily," Justin returned sourly. His handsome face twisted into an annoyed grimace as Taryn bit into the crisp apple and

chewed it slowly. "Guess who I saw this morning on my ride?" "I'm not in the mood for one of your guessing games, Taryn," Justin grunted. Just the same he closed the ledger in front of him and leaned back in the chair. Now that she had his attention, Taryn took her time. She took another bite of the apple, deliberately chewed it slowly, smiling inwardly at the annoyance that flared in Justin's face. Finally she swallowed and wiped her lips with the back of one hand, then perched on the edge of the hardwood desk, poised in such a manner as to allow her a full view of Justin's face. "It seems that Lady Katherine spent the night all nice and cozy in that old line shack near the river. And she wasn't alone. Tulane was with her. I caught the two of them coming out of the shack this morning looking pretty damned guilty. At least she did. What do you think of that, Justin?" Justin met her smirking gaze evenly. Only the slight tic in his jaw told Taryn her barb had hit its target. "So? They probably go caught by the storm last night and held up in the shack waiting for it to pass. That doesn't prove anything." The calm tone of his voice brought a smile to Taryn's expressive lips for she knew Justin was not calm about Katherine Wainwright. "You're probably right, Justin," she agreed with a demure glance at him through her lashes. "Just because the shack was snug and warm and the storm was howling all around them outside, and just because they were there all alone. together. and wet. .and well, I just know that if I was holed up with Tulane all night with nobody else within miles I wouldn't waste all that time playing cards or telling ghost stories." Justin's face colored with indignation. He jerked upright as he clenched the edge of the desk tightly, wishing it was Taryn's silken throat instead. After swallowing twice in rapid succession in an effort to regain control, he glared at her malevolently. "I know exactly what you'd do, Taryn, but thank God Katie Wainwright isn't like you!" he snapped. "Let's just hope Matt Wainwright has your faith in the chaste Lady Katherine," Taryn replied. Only the slight narrowing of her eyes revealed the extent of the wound Justin's mocking taunt had opened but he was too angry to notice. "Anyway, that's not what I really wanted to discuss with you, Justin." "What is it then?" "The only way we're going to drive Wainwright and the others out is

to kill Tulane and the sooner the better." Jake Stoddard let out a short grunt of amusement. When Taryn's black gaze turned to him, he chewed the end of the cigar, grinning around it. "I hate to tell you this, honey, but that's been tried before by better men than me." "Isn't that what we're paying you for, Jake?" Taryn asked him in a silky voice that contained a steely undercurrent. "And paying you very well." Jake gave a nonchalant shrug while he surveyed her with a pleasant, almost amused expression. "Let me tell you somethin' about Tulane. There ain't a cooler fish alive than that one. You see, there's two kinds of men; them that are afraid to die and them that just don't give a damn. Tulane fits into that category." "He's the most dangerous kind of man there is; the kind that don't care about anythin'. He don't care if he lives or dies. He'd just as soon spit in the devil's eye as not. A man like that can't be scared." "I'm not talking about scaring him, Jake," Taryn pointed out impatiently. "I'm talking about killing him." "Well, don't look at me." For a long moment their eyes locked, then Taryn dropped her gaze in untypical fashion. Something about the cold honesty in the hired killer's voice unnerved her for the second time today. "Are you saying you're scared of him, Jake?" she taunted after a moment. "Damned right," Jake affirmed with a brief nod. "Head to head there ain't nobody I've ever seen that can outdraw him and you've seen for yourself what he can do with a Winchester. So if you're suggestin' I take him on, get yourself another boy. I ain't that crazy." "Then shoot him in the back, for God's sake!" Taryn snapped. She flounced off Justin's desk, stalked across the lavish office several times, then halted a short distance from the gunman, frowning at the negative shake of his head. "Not me," Jake said evenly. "First of all, that's easier said than done. Tulane sleeps with both eyes open. Catchin' him off guard is next to impossible and one chance is all you get. You miss and you're done for. "And secondly, any man with Tulane's guts deserves better than a bullet in the back. I served under him in the war, honey, and after that in Arizona and there ain't a better soldier around. He's got it all; brains, guts, instinct." For an instant Jake's weasel-like features almost softened. "And

more integrity under his little fingernail than all three of us combined." "No man is invincible, Jake," Justin pointed out dryly. Jake's eyes flashed to the rancher's amused face, then nodded in agreement. "No, of course not. I'm just sayin' that I'm not fast enough to take him in a fair fight and even I have enough scruples not to shoot him in the back," he said evenly. "So how do you suggest we kill him?" Taryn asked with both hands on her hips. Jake squinted around the chewed cigar with a grin. "Even Tulane couldn't survive a shoot-out with a deck." Justin tapped a pencil on the hardwood desk considered Jake's recommendation. "How many men do you figure it would take to out-gun him?" "Two, maybe three, dependin' on who you got." "Then get them, Jake," Taryn said as she glided back across the room to retake her perch on the desk top. "Whoever you think can do the job. And get them fast, Jake. We're running short of time. CHAPTER SIXTEEN Reverend Thatcher's sermon buzzed in Katie's ears but her mind was a hundred miles away. Reaching to pinch Dane into passive inactivity, her gaze automatically drifted beyond the head of her restless son to the man who waited for church to be over. Tulane stood out side the clapboard church on the outskirts of Breckinridge, leaning on the hitch rail chewing thoughtfully on a blade of grass. He appeared relaxed, but Katie instinctively knew the pose was a disguise for the constant alertness that was part of his nature. Katie looked away, directing her attention back to Reverend Thatcher's vivid description of hell. She folded her hands once more in her lap and tried to focus on her immediate surroundings. The little church was stuffy and humid from the heat of a June day. Glancing around, Katie saw their friends and neighbors sitting respectfully in silence broken only by an occasional Amen from the staunch supporters on the front pew. Without looking behind her, Katie knew that Justin Fletcher and his sister were seated behind her family, a few pews farther toward the rear of the church. She had seen them arrive a few minutes before services began

in the fancy carriage with the Circle F insignia emblazoned on the sides. Justin was dressed as usual in his Sunday finest. Even Katie had to admit that there was a certain flair about him but it was overshadowed by the hostility that strained the air. Taryn sat demurely at his side, in a dress for one of the times Katie could remember. The girl was beautiful. There was no denying that fact, she thought irritably, but it was a cold beauty that covered a tormented soul. Thinking about Taryn brought to mind the girl's threat to tell Matt there was more to the night of the storm than he believed. Katie shifted uneasily on the hard wooden bench with a glance at her husband from the corner of her eye. Matt was obviously uncomfortable in his Sunday clothes for he kept fidgeting with the tight collar of his starched white shirt, then looked at her apologetically. Katie forced a tight smile, then looked away. The past few days had been strained and she knew it was her fault. Twice now Matt had reached for her in the darkness but she had pretended to be asleep. Funny, she thought absently, had she ever noticed his fumbling before or was it only since that night in Tulane's arms that she'd become so restless and dissatisfied? At any rate, she had to get hold herself before Matt became suspicious. He had accepted her account of the night of the storm without reservation, but it was his very acceptance that made her uneasy. Then she realized it was her guilt that made her nervous, not Matt's suspicions. God, she almost wished that night had never happened. Then with a tiny smile crinkling her lips, she knew that wasn't true. She wouldn't trade that night in Tulane's arms for the world but it had awakened needs that she had never known existed. Needs that were now clamoring for fulfillment. Needs that must be put to rest..and soon. Glenna's insistent tugging at her skirt that brought Katie's attention back to the present. She realized with a start that church was over and people were leaving their pews. She shot a brief glance at Matt to catch the curiosity in his eyes at her distracted manner. Rising quickly, she led the children from the pew down the aisle toward the fresh air wafting in from the outside. Matt paused long enough to return Justin's brief nod of recognition, then limped on toward the doorway. Katie looked away from the unconcealed longing in Justin's eyes, blushing at the rancher's open display of affection. She moved past him toward the open door, then paused abruptly,

staring into Taryn Fletcher's narrowed black eyes. The smugness in those eyes sent a chill over Katie's slender frame, made her afraid, eager to be out in the sunlight. It took Glenna's persistent tugging at her skirt to take Katie's mind off Taryn. There was something in the depths of Taryn's eyes that spelled trouble, she thought uneasily as Glenna led her outside into the milling group of church-goers. She took her place at Matt's side while he talked in low tones to Duncan and Milo Newman. Her mind was already on what she was planning for Sunday dinner, having dismissed Taryn's hostile expression as best she could, when from the corner of her eye she saw Tulane abruptly step around Dane to speak to Matt. Katie knew what he said without actually hearing the words. "Matt, get Katherine and the children inside. There's going to be trouble." Matt's head jerked around. Alarm made his features tense as his vision settled on the three men approaching from the combination store and saloon down the street. It took only one brief glance to know the three strangers' business for the low slung gunbelts and flinty eyes heralded their occupation all too clearly. A hush fell over the crowd as the three men walked abreast toward the church . As they halted in the middle of the street twenty feet from him, Tulane exchanged a meaningful glance with Matt as he nodded over his shoulder toward Katie and the children. Katie felt as if her heart leaped into her mouth when Tulane stepped away from Matt into the open, facing the three gunfighters . She looked quickly at Justin Fletcher, but he refused to return her gaze while he pretended to be very interested in a loose thread In his expensive waistcoat. Katie's gaze flicked to Taryn's satisfied face. Their eyes locked for a moment until Katie could stand the belligerence in the younger woman's face no longer. Then her attention was drawn to the street when one of the gunmen broke the eerie silence. 'Tulane, I m callin' you. . if you ain't scared!" Katie was amazed at the calm manner with which Tulane returned the man's stare. He stood away from the group of church-goers, his feet slightly spread, his hand hanging loosely at his side. Only his eyes showed any motion as they moved quickly from one man to the next, assessing him, sizing him up.

"Is this your play, Jake?" he asked without taking his eyes off the trio who had moved a few feet apart in preparation of the coming event. From his position beside Justin in the shade of the church, Jake Stoddard shook his head with a grin. "Not me, Tulane. I'm just an innocent bystander." "See that you stay that way," Tulane told him mildly. Then he glanced at Duncan McGee who stood beside Matt in uneasy fascination. "Duncan, get your rifle. Keep it on Jake. if he makes a move to intervene, kill him." "Right, laddie," the Scot agreed as he hurried to obey. Seconds later, he held his Winchester pointed at Jake while he stared at the gunman determinedly. Katie gripped Matt's arm until her nails cut through his Sunday shirt into his arm, resisting his attempt to pull her toward the protection of the church as Tulane had instructed. "Matt, we must do something! There are three of them!" Matt shook his head as his big shoulders moved in a helpless shrug. He didn't like what was happening anymore than Katie, but he felt powerless to do anything about it. This was a gunfighter's game and he knew he was useless with a gun. What happened now was out of his hands. When she realized Matt felt as helpless as she, Katie pulled free of his grasp and turned to Justin. The rancher looked very satisfied with himself. He was obviously enjoying the game that was about to be played out in the center of the street. "You can stop this, Justin," she said in a cold. clear voice. Justin's gaze met hers and held. "Suppose I could, Katie, why would I want to?" "Because it's not a fair fight!" "A man who makes his living with a gun has to take his chances Katie." Justin lit a thin brown cigar from the gold case he had taken from inside his coat and blew a thin gray plume into the air, dismissing Katie's protest as the three gunmen shifted positions and squared themselves. Katie wanted to scream or run into the street between the killers and Tulane to stop this insanity, but then a still, small voice inside her mind told her to keep silent. She turned to look at Tulane in time to see him loosen the safety loop from the hammer of his Colt. He looked so relaxed she could almost believe this wasn't really happening. His stance was comfortable, his shoulders straight. The expression on his face was mild. He exuded confidence. Katie was suddenly no longer afraid.

"Make your play, Deever," he said to the killer who had called him out. "I'm waiting." There was a long pause, then Katie saw Deever's hand drop for the pistol at his side. Instantly there was a blast, then another, then one more. The shots came so rapidly they sounded more like one explosion than separate rounds. All three killers fell face forward into the dusty street. For several seconds there was a deathly silence as the crowd digested what they had seen, then Milo Newman let out a long whistle. "Did you see that?" he said to Alfred Wilson who was standing at his side. "I saw it," Wilson answered. "But I don't believe it." Katie's eyes flashed to Justin Fletcher in time to see him yank the cigar from his mouth and grind it into the dirt with his heel. With a disgruntled glare at Matt, he hustled Taryn into the carriage and disappeared down the street. "You can let Jake go now, Duncan ," Tulane told the Scot as he turned to walk back toward Matt. Then addressing the gunman, he said, "The next time you try to brace me, Jake, you better hire better guns. I'm afraid Deever and his friends couldn't quite do the job." "That was some damned fine shootin'," Jake said with a grin. Now that the shock had worn off, he grinned as he moved past Tulane to take his horse from the crowded hitch rail, then rode after the Fletcher carriage. "I'll say that was fine shooting," Matt echoed in awe. "You got all of them, Tulane. Damn! I've never seen anything like it." "But I heard four shots," Katie said slowly as her eyes traveled up and down Tulane's tall frame. Her face blanched for Tulane had dropped his Colt back into the worn holster and reached inside his vest. When he removed his hand a moment later, it was covered with blood. Smiling slightly at Katie's gasp of dismay, he shrugged apologetically. "The fourth shot went through me, Katherine. I'm good, but I'm not that good." Before Katie could voice her fears, his eyes rolled backward as he fell into Matt's arms. In spite of his broken leg, Matt lifted him as easily as if he were a child and carried him to the wagon. "Get back! Give him some air!" Matt commanded the crowd of concerned farmers who flocked around to see how badly Tulane was hurt. Katie jumped into the wagon. She quickly bent to put her ear to his chest, then breathed a sigh of relief to hear the steady heartbeat. ''He's alive," she told the sea of worried faces surrounding the wagon. Then she

swiftly opened his shirt to exam the wound. "How bad is it, Katie? Matt asked. He was leaning on the wagon, peering at Tulane's immobile body as Katie began tearing her petticoats to make a bandage. ''I can't tell. He's bleeding terribly. He needs a doctor." ''This one horse town don't have a doctor," Alfred Wilson pointed out gruffly at Matt's side. "The closest doc is in Billings. If he's hurt bad, he wouldn't live till a doc gets here." Katie's attention was drawn back to Tulane's face when he moved slightly. Seeing that he was conscious again, she bit back tears of relief. "It's not as bad as it looks," he told her with a weak grin. "I don't need a doctor. He couldn't do anything that you and a good sharp knife can't, Katherine. The bullet is lodged against a rib, I think. It shouldn't be too hard to find." "Best get him home then and get that bullet out," Mary Alice McGee said with conviction as she pushed her way through the group climb into the wagon with Katie. Matt quickly lifted Dane and Glenna into the wagon and onto the seat. In moments they were leading a procession of wagons out of town across the plains for home. Katie sat down in the wagon bed and placed Tulane's head in her lap. She and Mary Alice took turns tearing off a strip of petticoat to press over the wound in an effort to stem the flow of blood. Glenna sat against the side of the wagon with her thumb in her mouth, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty. As bandage after bandage came away soaked with blood, she became increasingly frightened until she finally scooted across the empty space to a spot at Tulane's side. His eyes opened when her soft little hand gently patted his. At the sight of her pale face, he forced a grin and squeezed her hand. "You're not gonna die, are you, Uncle Christopher?" she asked him in a squeaky little voice. His eyes widened at the unexpected choice of names the little girl had used, then he shook his head with a smile. "No, of course not, Glenna. Your momma will have me all patched up as good as new in no time. There's nothing for you to worry about." Glenna smiled shyly and stuck her thumb back into her mouth as she slid back across the wagon bed to her brother. Dane gave her a disgruntled scowl but put his arm around her protectively anyway.

"Dumb ole girl," he said softly so his mother couldn't hear. "Can't nobody kill Tulane. Don't you know that? He's the best there is. Can't nobody outdraw him." "That's some cheering section you have," Mary Alice remarked dryly to Tulane as the wagon bounced over the ruts in the trail. Then her eyes lifted to Katie's pale face. She leaned closer so no one but Katie could hear. "Uncle Christopher? Have I missed something, Katie?" Katie knew what Mary Alice was hinting at and a blush momentarily brought the color back to her face. Then her friend's curious innuendo was forgotten when Tulane's eyes opened again to lock with hers as she leaned over him to place a fresh bandage on the wound. "Sorry, Katherine," he said weakly. It was becoming difficult to remain conscious and the rough trail brought a grimace of pain with each rut the wagon hit. "Sorry? For what?" He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering strength to answer. "Sorry the kids had to see that. I wanted you to take them inside so they wouldn't, but you were too damned stubborn." In spite of her worry, Katie grinned as she patted his shoulder. "This is a violent land, Christopher, and we're dealing with violent people. My children just had a first hand account of what happens when good and evil collide." "I assume you mean that good always triumphs over evil?' he suggested dryly. When she nodded, he smiled briefly as he placed his hand over her hand that was pressing the bandage over the wound in his chest. "If good won today, Katherine, it was because you bring out the good in me, if there is any." Sudden, unexplained tears burned Katie's eyes. She had to rub them away before she could see. By then Tulane was unconscious again, lying limp in her lap as the wagon hurried across the plains beneath a cloudy sky that seemed to promise another storm. As if the one in Breckinridge had not been enough. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Katie dropped into the cane-backed chair with a weary sigh. She rubbed absently at her eyes, glancing up at Mary Alice McGee's question. "How's he doing?"

Katie glanced at Tulane's still frame stretched out on Dane's bed. "He's sleeping, thank goodness. I should imagine that's what he needs most now." Mary Alice nodded in agreement as she glanced at the wounded man. Tulane was unnaturally pale, his bronzed skin now chalky white in the light from the lantern on the bedside table. Katie had retrieved the bullet with little trouble for it had been easy to locate. After a careful examination and with Mary Alice's help, she had removed the projectile with a sharp kitchen knife and a pair of tweezers. Tulane was now sleeping in Dane's room. The whiteness of the sheet covering him accented the pallor of his skin but Katie noted that his color was slowly returning and his breathing had eased somewhat during the past hour. She did not realize that Mary Alice had left the room until she returned carrying two steaming cups of coffee. Katie accepted the offered cup and sipped it gratefully. Feeling her friend's eyes on her, she lifted her gaze above the rim of the cup with a tired smile. "Thank you, Mary Alice." "It's been a long night," was Mary Alice's nonchalant reply. "I thought we could both use a pick-me-up." "Thank you for staying too. I couldn't have managed alone." "I didn't do anything. You did all the work. And you did an incredible job, Katie," Mary Alice said as she studied her friend respectfully. "You knew just where the bullet would be and you plucked it out just like picking berries off a bush. Why, your hand didn't even shake." "Not until the bullet was out anyway," Katie contradicted, smiling. Mary Alice's gaze shifted to Tulane's motionless body across the small room. "It's hard to believe a man could lose that much blood and still be alive, isn't it? Will he be all right, Katie?" Katie nodded, her gaze following Mary Alice's to linger on Tulane's pale face in the warm glow of the lamp. "Yes, thankfully. It was a clean wound and the bullet came out without causing too much damage. He needs lots of rest and time to regain his strength but I think he'll be fine." "This time." The seriousness in Mary Alice's voice brought Katie's eyes back to her round, pleasant face in surprise. They stared at one another in silence for a moment, then Katie nodded wearily. "Yes, this time. This time he was lucky. He may not be so fortunate the next time."

"Luck had very little to do with what I saw today," Mary Alice disagreed. She sipped from her coffee cup in silence for a moment as her sharp blue eyes studied Tulane's face. "I'd never have dreamed a man could be that fast with a gun if I hadn't seen it for myself. Two of those men didn't even get their guns out and the third one just scored a wild shot after Tulane had already killed him." She shook her head in amazement. "No, Katie, my friend, Tulane's not lucky; he's good, damned good. Facing three hired killers in a gunfight and killing all three of them...that comes from years of practice, years of work. That kind of skill has nothing to do with luck." Katie did not reply, but sat silently staring at Tulane and sipping at the hot coffee. Her thoughts were confused. She rubbed at her eyes again while stifling a yawn. "His only good luck was having you around to put the pieces back together," Mary Alice was saying. "And you." "All I did was hand you towels and pray. You did all the work. Did you see all those scars on his body? Makes you wonder, doesn't it, how many times this has happened." Katie nodded absently as her mind pictured the jagged scar on his back. "He was wounded twice during the war. Those are battle scars, Mary Alice." "What about that awful scar on his back? Did he get back in the war too?" Mary Alice questioned curiously over the rim of her cup. The pensive expression on Katie's face raised Mary Alice's curiosity. Katie shook her head after a moment as her eyes drifted across the room to settle on Tulane's long frame outlined beneath the white sheets. "No, he got that in a fight with the Apaches." "Your intuition tell you that, Katie, or did Tulane?" "Intuition," Katie returned with a slight smile. "Tulane doesn't talk much about himself." They sat quietly sipping their coffee for a few moments. Katie watched Tulane's face for a sign of returning consciousness while Mary Alice studied Katie. Hours had passed since the shooting in town. The cozy farmhouse was silent and peaceful. Dane, who had gladly given up his room for Tulane, was now fast asleep on a pallet in the sitting room, stretched out beside Mary Alice's son. The McGee family had stayed over to offer their assistance, but the others had turned in hours before, leaving the two women

to keep a watchful eye on the wounded man. As they sat drinking coffee in the dimly lit room, Katie could hear the snoring coming from their bedroom next door. She wondered if Matt's leg was hurting as badly as she suspected. The unexpected turn of events in town had caused him to put undue pressure on the recent injury so that by the time they had reached the farm and gotten Tulane into the house, Matt's face had been ashen with pain. The mantel clock struck three a.m. in the living room but Katie did not notice. She put aside her cup and rose to pad softly across the room to check on Tulane again. He was still resting peacefully. Katie noted a tinge of color had crept back into his face. She reached down to place one cool hand on his forehead searching for any indication of fever, smoothing the furrow that wrinkled his brow when a dart of pain disturbed his sleep. "He doesn't look very deadly right now, does he?" Mary Alice observed from across the room. Katie shook her head, but she did not take her eyes from Tulane's face to look at her friend. "No, he doesn't. He looks almost child-like, vulnerable, like a little boy." "No little boy I've ever seen has a body like that," Mary Alice said dryly and chuckled softly. Immediately color flooded Katie's face as her head snapped around to meet her friend's amused smile, but before she could formulate a reply Mary Alice went on. "Although in all fairness, I think you know a good deal more about his body than I do." "What's that supposed to mean?" Katie demanded stiffly, struggling to return the knowing expression on Mary Alice's pleasant face. Smiling, Mary Alice patted the seat of the chair Katie had vacated moments earlier. "Come sit down, Katie," she invited. "He's resting now. If he needs anything we'll be right here." Katie glanced back at Tulane with a heavy sigh. She tucked the sheet securely around his bare shoulders before retracing her steps. She sat down and took the coffee cup Mary Alice offered. "It's past three o'clock in the morning, Katie. Tulane's resting; Matt and Duncan are sound asleep. So are the children. So why don't you relax? Stop worrying about someone overhearing us and tell me just what the devil is going on." Katie's tired face registered surprise, then understanding, but she took a sip of coffee to cover her discomfort while she tried to sort out her

thoughts. "I don't know what you mean, Mary Alice." "Something's happened, Katie, between you and our patient over there," Mary Alice suggested intuitively with a half nod toward Tulane. "You've slept with him, haven't you?" The bluntness of the question took Katie off guard. At first she looked surprised, then guilty as she looked away and took a shuddering breath. When she glanced down at her hands holding the cup in her lap, she saw the knuckles had paled from the pressure she was exerting. "What on earth would make you ask such a thing?" she asked with a brittle laugh. "I don't have your gift of clairvoyance, Katie, but I'm not blind either," Mary Alice retorted with a friendly smile that faded into a more serious expression. "I have the feeling you really need to talk. That's what friends are for, isn't it?" Katie nodded as her eyes came back to focus on Mary Alice's patient face. "Yes, you're right. I do need to talk and there's no other soul in the world that I can tell about this. No one else I can trust. It's just that…well...I don't quite know how to begin...how to make you understand." Mary Alice's rough, work worn hand reached to squeeze Katie's affectionately. "Well, just you don't worry about that. I'm your friend, not your judge. "Now, I'll go refill these coffee cups while you decide where to start and then we'll get the whole thing thrashed out," she said confidently as she rose to take the half filled cup from Katie. Moments later Mary Alice sipped her coffee while watching Katie's anxious face above the rim of the cup while Katie told her about the night of the storm. When she had completed the story, she took a ragged breath and finally raised her eyes to return the steady, somewhat surprised expression on Mary Alice's face. "I know it was an awful thing to do, Mary Alice, but I just couldn't help myself. It was like I became someone else; someone completely different with different feelings. I don't know how else to explain it," she said in a hushed voice. "In the first place it wasn't such an awful thing to do, Katie," her friend replied with a twinkle in her eyes. "Unless you didn't enjoy it and it's easy to see that you did." Katie's face flooded with color as she momentarily glanced away from the cheerful mischief she saw in Mary Alice's face. "That's what is so

awful, Mary Alice. I did enjoy it...for the very first time...ever. That scares me." Mary Alice's pleasant features became more serious as she nodded in agreement. "Yes, I can see what you mean. You may have been able to keep Matt from knowing this time but if it becomes a habit ..well, this could be a very dangerous situation." She gave a short nod toward the opposite side of the room where Tulane lay sleeping. "I don't know how Matt would react to finding out, but I do know one thing for sure; that man over there is more deadly than any disease or storm we can imagine. If Matt found out and tried to do anything about it...." Her voice faded into a strained silence that was broken by Katie after a few moments. "I know, Mary Alice. But it's not the fear of Matt finding out that worries me so. It's knowing that I've violated his trust, broken my vows, and even worse than that is knowing that I want it to happen again." She drew a ragged breath as she turned away to stare at Tulane, her brows knitting together in concern. "He knows it was only one night, that it can never happen again, but if he approaches me, Mary Alice, I don't know if I have the strength to refuse him." "Why worry about it, Katie?" her friend advised cautiously. "You're worried about something that may never happen at all. You must take each day as it comes and let the next take care of itself. And for heaven's sake, stop brow beating yourself over it. It's done, it happened, and you can't undo it so there's no use stewing about it. That'll only make Matt suspicious and make yourself sick. "Besides," she added with a sideways glance at Tulane. "He'll be laid up for quite a spell. It's not likely he'll be too interested in sex until that wound heals." Before Katie could speak, Tulane groaned in his sleep and flung the covers back. Katie jumped to her feet to hurry to the bed. She pulled the sheets back into place and tucked them around his shoulders. Before the covers were fully in place he had pushed them away again. Katie caught his hands until the thrashing stopped, then eased one hand free to smooth away the furrow of pain that creased his forehead. His eyes opened then and he looked at her blankly for a second until he remembered where he was. As his eyes focused on Katie's face, a smile came to his lips. She eased his arms back beneath the sheets, then reached to wring out the cloth from the basin of cool water she had placed on the bedside table much earlier. She gently blotted the beads of perspiration from his forehead and

upper lip while speaking softly to him, reassuring him that all was well. "Hurts!" he mumbled sleepily as he relaxed against the pillows. "I know, Christopher," Katie said soothingly. "But it'll feel better soon." She looked at Mary Alice over her shoulder while she wrung out the cloth again. "Mary Alice, get the laudanum from the cabinet over there, will you? It's time to give him another spoonful." Mary Alice brought the medication and held Tulane's head while Katie mixed the bitter liquid with a little water and poured it down his throat. He made a futile attempt to spit it out but Katie held his nose until he was forced to swallow. When he was settled once more among the pillows, he opened his eyes again to stare at her accusingly. "That wasn't fair," he mumbled. "Perhaps not," Katie agreed with a smile. "But it was necessary. Now you try to rest. You've lost a lot of blood. You need plenty of rest to regain your strength." Already the drug was taking effect. Tulane sighed, squirmed for a moment, then was soon resting peacefully. Katie continued wiping his forehead with the cool cloth, crooning softly as if he were one of the children. "Katherine?" he asked sleepily, reaching from beneath the sheets to search for her hand. Immediately upon touching her, he smiled and relaxed again, turning his head to focus his drug-laden eyes on her face. "I'm here, Christopher," Katie crooned. "Go back to sleep. Everything is just fine." Before the last word had passed her lips he was fast asleep. Katie tucked the sheets securely around him and put aside the cloth but remained standing by the bed in silence, staring at him, until Mary Alice broke the quiet. "Think we should check the wound again?" she asked softly. "Maybe so," Katie agreed. She eased the sheets down to reveal the heavy white bandage that wound around his chest and over his right shoulder. Deftly loosening it, she examined the wound. "No more bleeding. That's good." She rearranged the bandage, then covered him again. When she rose from the bed in preparation to move away she noticed the curious glint in Mary Alice's sparkling eyes. "What are you thinking, Mary Alice?" Mary Alice cast a sideways glance at Tulane while pensively chewing

her bottom lip. "I can't stand it another minute, Katie. You've got to tell me. Was it as good as you thought it would be?" A mischievous grin curled Katie's lips and brightened her tired features. She retraced her steps to the chair and took a long sip from her coffee before answering. "Oh yes, Mary Alice," she answered finally, still smiling. Only to her oldest friend could she allow herself to relive those exhilarating minutes in Tulane's arms. Only with Mary Alice could she drive back the guilt and worry that had become part of every waking moment. She almost felt like a girl again as she giggled over her coffee cup. "It was everything I've ever dreamed it could be. It was wonderful." "How could it be otherwise?" Mary Alice conceded with a grin while she glanced at Tulane. "Any man that looks like that one has to be wonderful. Nature just wouldn't have it any other way." When they were seated again with a fresh cup of coffee Mary Alice moved her chair closer to Katie's, then leaned over to whisper, "Now, tell me about those dreams you mentioned. Maybe if I hear about them, I'll have some of my own. Who knows? Maybe one day some dark handsome man will come along and mine come true too." "Mary Alice, you're terrible," Katie giggled. Then her face sobered as she placed a hand on Mary Alice's arm. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I've been going crazy with all this guilt and worry. Wanting to tell you but afraid you'd think badly of me. Thank you for understanding." Mary Alice cleared her throat and swallowed. It wasn't her nature to get all teary eyed over such things but she was touched by Katie's sincere gesture. "Hey, why would I ever think badly of you?" she asked stoutly in an attempt to bring back the jovial mood. "I'm a little jealous, that's all. I would jump in the sack with him in two seconds flat if I had the chance. You're just luckier than me, that's all." CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Taryn paused outside her half brother's room on the second floor of the sprawling ranch house, listening. For a moment there was only silence then the tinkling of glass as Justin refilled his crystal goblet with yet another helping of fine, imported brandy. Her face grimacing with disapproval, Taryn tried the door knob. To her surprise it turned. She pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

Though it was long past sundown the room was in total darkness with only the faint glimmer of moonlight drifting in through the curtains to give any light. A sound in the corner nearest the bed caught her keen ears. Turning toward the sound she could make out Justin's profile as he tipped the glass to his lips and drank deeply from it. With a snort, Taryn marched to the bedside table, picked up the box of matches beside the lamp and lit it. In seconds soft light filled the room, playing on the tense lines of Justin's face as he sat half sprawled in the cane rocker between the bed and the window. He lifted one hand to shield his eyes from the light, then raised his head to glare at Taryn. "What the hell do you want?" he demanded in a thick, belligerent voice slurred by brandy. "You didn't come down for dinner." A mocking smile curled Justin's lips as he stared at her disapproving features. Taryn had changed from her Sunday best into the more familiar denims and a flannel shirt upon arriving at the ranch from town, but now she was dressed for bed in a cotton nightgown that was surprisingly demure for her exotic tastes. Her long black hair hung in shimmering straight cascades down her shoulders. The white material of the simple nightgown accented the tawny glow of her skin, made her even more beautiful in the soft light. It was a simple garment with ruffles around the bottom and tied at the throat with satin ribbons. It made Taryn appear almost child-like. "Don't tell me you were concerned about my welfare," Justin snorted after a moment. Taryn ignored the mocking quality of his voice, crediting the brandy for his surly attitude. Instead she watched him refill the goblet again and drink from it while staring at her through the crystal all the while. "You look like hell!" she snapped when he lowered the glass. "Why, thank you very much, princess pain-in-the-ass," Justin returned with a nonchalant chuckle. Taryn's narrowed black eyes flicked over him, noting the brandy stains on the expensive silk vest. Justin had not changed clothes since the morning, was still dressed in the elegant fawn waistcoat and white shirt, now open at the throat, the string tie hanging loosely around his neck. The heavier outer coat had been carelessly tossed across the bed in a manner that wasn't at all like Justin. He was such a fuss budget it made Taryn want to scream. To see him this sloppy drunk meant he was deeply distressed. In spite of herself, she felt an uncharacteristic surge of concern.

Glancing around the room, she couldn't resist a tiny smile. This room was so typically Justin with its plain white walls and simple curtains. It was sparsely furnished with only the barest of essentials, consisting of a maple chest, the heavy maple bed with its brightly colored comforter, a couple of chairs, and the bedside table that doubled as a foot locker. The only impressive piece of furniture in the room was the massive double armoire that dominated the wall opposite the door. Ceiling high with shiny brass handles, it contained Justin's expensive wardrobe. It was so like Justin to put all his energy into clothes, Taryn thought wryly as her gaze swung back to his brandy flushed face. The ranch was going to hell while he lived like a hermit in this sparse room, but his closet was filled with expensive tailored clothes. She knew when he sobered up to find the stains on the silk vest he would be mortified. That thought made her smile. "What's brought on this round of self pity?" she asked pleasantly, choosing not to comment on his foul mood for the moment. Justin threw her a disgruntled glare as he tossed back the remainder of the drink. "Self pity!" he snorted. "This is not self pity, my dear half sister, this is pure, unadulterated despair. I was sure today would be the end of Wainwright's hired protector. I still can hardly believe what happened." Taryn nodded in uncharacteristic agreement. "Yes, I know what you mean. It seems we have grossly underestimated Tulane's abilities, doesn't it?" "That fiasco in town this morning hardly qualifies as an underestimation, Taryn." "I must admit I have a new respect for Tulane. He did what few men have been able to do; kill three men in a gunfight and walk away from it." Then her dark eyes brightened. "However, he did not escape Scot free." Justin's brandy sodden mind snared the new energy in her voice. He raised his head to stare at her with bleary eyes trying to focus. "What do you mean?" he slurred with difficulty. A sly smile curled Taryn's lips while she surveyed her half brother with disgust. "He caught some lead. That's what I mean. Not enough to kill him, but enough to lay him up for a while. Maybe long enough for us to finish the job with those plow pushers." Even through his brandy fogged state mind, Justin caught her excitement. He stared at her curiously for a time, then swallowed in an effort to find his voice beneath the quantity of liquor he had consumed. "How do you know that? We left town before Wainwright. How

could you know he was shot? He certainly didn't look shot to me." Taryn shrugged. "Let's just say I have some inside information, dear brother. Information that is irreproachable tells me Tulane caught a bullet. Sorry to say it won't prove fatal." "Inside information?" "Yes, dear brother, but don't expect me to reveal my sources." "You've got a spy in Wainwright's camp?" Taryn did not answer his question. Instead she moved to intercept the refilling of his glass by taking it from his hand and putting it on the bedside table beyond his reach. Justin lifted blurry eyes in question, trying to focus on her movements in the dim light. Taryn stood very still before him for a moment, as though making a mental decision, then reached up to untie the ribbons that held the nightgown closed. Slowly, with a secretive smile on her lips, she pushed the gown off her shoulders, letting it fall in graceful folds to the floor around her bare feet. Justin's lips went slack momentarily before he wet them with the tip of his tongue. He was hypnotized, unable to take his eyes off her tawny beauty as she walked to the bed and folded back the covers. Lying down across the white sheets, she smiled while beckoning to him with her index finger. Justin shook his head as he gripped the rails of the rocker to prevent him from going to her. "No, Taryn, not this time. You won't win this time," he croaked, the words slurred by brandy, but still determined. Taryn merely smiled. She rose to pad across the floor to stand before him once more. Smiling seductively while his eyes followed each movement, she slowly cupped both breasts, one in each hand, and lifted them outward, her thumbs rotating around the coral tips invitingly. Justin licked his lips again. His jade green eyes had grown larger and began to glow with desire, but still he shook his head. "Of course I'll win, Justin," Taryn purred silkily with narrowed eyes. "I always win. You know you can't resist me. Face it, dear brother, you want me." "No!" Justin denied vehemently with a determined shake of his head. "Now, Justin, you know it's not nice to lie." Taryn's hands slid down her velvet body to the insides of her thighs. Keeping Justin's eyes locked with hers, she began to massage herself slowly, smiling at the intense heat that leapt into his eyes. After a moment she dropped to her heels in front of the rocking chair.

Justin tried to push her away but in his drunken state she was stronger. In moments she had opened his trousers and begun to stroke the erection he could not control. His ragged breathing was accented alternately with curses and low moans of pleasure. Taryn moved closer, pulling him down farther in the chair until he was almost prone. He groaned deeply as her lips expertly slid up and down the throbbing shaft. He glanced down into her sparkling black eyes as she watched his face while her tantalizing mouth brought his body quickly to the point of no return. "Goddamn you, Taryn," he moaned thickly. "I'm going to hell for this..and it's your fault." "But you love it, Justin," Taryn said softly between slow strokes on his flesh. "And you love me, don't you, Justin?" In spite of his resolve, Justin's determination had melted into a quivering pool of desire. His fingers caught the silky strands of raven hair, holding her head in place as she returned to her mission. "Yes," he admitted despairingly. "God help me, I do love you. You lying, scheming, miserable whore. I do love you." A brief smile of victory warmed Taryn's face as she sat back on her heels, rose and took his hand to lead him to the bed. The springs creaked beneath their weight as Justin mounted her, plunged himself violently into her. "You love me more than Katherine Wainwright, don't you, Justin?" Taryn whispered in his ear. "More than anyone else in the world?" "Yes, goddamn it!" Seconds later his release came with blinding fury, his body crushing hers into the mattress, his hands snarled in the warm silk of her hair. Then with an anguished groan, he flung himself off her and sat up unsteadily on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. Taryn lay quietly watching him, still smiling at her victory. "When are you going to learn, Justin, that you can't fight me. I'm stronger than you; I'll always win," she said confidently, her lips curling with a smug sneer. Justin stood up on wobbly legs and weaved his way back to the cane rocker. He tried to rearrange his clothing but gave up with a groan when his fingers were too wooden to work the buttons. Giving up on that project, he splashed more brandy into the empty glass and threw it back with one swallow. He wiped his lips with the back of one hand, glaring at Taryn at the same time. "Yes, Taryn, you are stronger than me. I'll give you that. You're like

a damned mule; you see something you want, you go after it and you don't give up until you've gotten your way." Taryn watched him lazily, smiling at him almost fondly while he talked. His voice was stronger now, more in control. His steady jade glare became a bit unsettling after a few moments. "I'd give my soul to be able to refuse you just once. To be strong enough to say no to you and mean it. To make you respect me," he was saying now in a tone that had dropped with dejection. "Your soul, Justin?" Taryn quipped with a giggle. "What soul? Your soul is just as tainted as mine. The only difference in us, Justin, is that I'm a winner." Justin's brows raised in ironic amusement. His hand paused on its way to his lips with the glass of brandy. "Perhaps so, Taryn. Of the two of us, you are probably the winner all right, but I'd rather be a loser than to win with your methods." Taryn laughed and motioned for him to rejoin her on the bed. "My methods work, Justin dear, or haven't you noticed?" Justin rose reluctantly then staggered to the bed once more. In seconds Taryn had undressed him to begin stroking his flesh again but no erection was forthcoming. She looked into his face in confusion only to find that he had passed out. He was completely beyond her control, at least for the moment. Sighing, Taryn lay down beside him, cradling his head on her breast. Smoothing the dark auburn hair from his eyes, she smiled as she patted his cheek. "Poor, dear Justin," she said half aloud. "Yes, I am stronger, more resourceful than you, and it's a damned good thing too. Otherwise we'd lose everything." She glanced down at his face. "But that's not going to happen because I've got all the cards now. I've just needed the proper time to play them and with Tulane laid up with a bullet in him I think it's time. Starting tomorrow we fight this war my way." Her black eyes narrowed to slits as she smoothed Justin's hair, listening to the soft snores that slipped from his slack lips. "You really hate yourself for giving in to me, don't you, Justin?" she mused in a soft soothing tone. "But then that's half the fun. If you gave in too easily it wouldn't be worth my time. It's the challenge that makes it interesting." With a soft giggle, she laid Justin's head on the pillows and rose silently from the bed. She padded across the floor to retrieve her nightgown, slipped into it, then left the room to go in search of Maria, the

Mexican cook and housekeeper. "Maria, go to the bunkhouse and tell Mr. Stoddard to come to the house," she instructed briskly. When the stout little woman had disappeared across the darkened lawn to find Jake Stoddard, Taryn selected a bright red apple from the fruit bowl on the credenza and bit into it gleefully. Her romp with Justin had only whetted her appetite, she thought mischievously as she took another bite of the juicy apple. Sex always made her hungry and the main course was on its way to the house now. Jake Stoddard was nothing to look at, nothing special in bed, but he would serve her purposes well enough. Katie awoke with a jerk. She sat upright in the hard cane-backed chair in the living room and rubbed her eyes sleepily while trying to remember just why she had spent the night here instead of her own bed. Then as she looked around to see Mary Alice's stout figure scurrying about in the kitchen, she remembered and rose on unsteady feet to stretch and yawn. Padding softly down the short hallway to the room where she had left Tulane in the wee small hours of the morning, she was surprised to hear peals of childish laughter. Her pace quickened as she hurried to the open doorway of her son's room. Her eyes widened in surprise, then pleasure at the sight that awaited her. Tulane was awake, sitting up against the pillows with Glenna on one side of him and Dane on the other. Dane was reading from one of his storybooks while Glenna shyly kept one finger in her mouth while she listened to the story. Her little face shone with pleasure at the story about a beautiful princess named Cinderella as her giggles accented Dane's dramatic rendition of the classic tale. Dane was being very adult, changing voices as the characters in the story changed, obviously enjoying himself. Katie's approach had been a silent one so it came as a surprise when she realized Tulane was watching her. She blushed without knowing exactly why, then bustled into the room. "My goodness! What are you children doing? Don't you know Christopher needs rest and quiet? Now, scoot along, both of you." Instantly both Dane and Glenna began to protest but before she could voice a stronger opinion, Tulane took their side. "Come on, Katherine, we were just getting to the good part.

Cinderella is just about to meet the handsome prince. Surely you don't want to leave us hanging, do you?" he asked with a grin. "But you've been hurt," she protested, trying to ignore the pleading looks from both her children. "It's much too soon for this much excitement." "It's never too soon for a good story and a little good companionship." In spite of herself Katie began to smile and a moment later nodded her head in agreement. "All right, if you're sure you're up to it, but first I must change that bandage." "That's fair enough. Okay, kids, you heard your mother. You go play for a few minutes while your mom fixes me up and then we'll finish the story. Okay?" Dane and Glenna scooted off the bed and went smiling into the hallway. Katie bustled around the room in preparation to change the dressing. Tulane leaned forward to allow her room to unwind the blood stained bandage from around his chest and shoulder, his handsome face grimacing in pain. "You must be feeling much better this morning," Katie said as a means of breaking the awkward silence. "All things considered I feel pretty good." His dark brows raised quizzically at the tremor in Katie's hands as she bandaged the wound. "You look tired, Katherine. Did you sit up with me all night?" Katie nodded absently. She was trying very hard to concentrate on the task at hand instead of remembering the feel of his skin against hers in the darkness. "It really wasn't necessary. You knew I wasn't in any real danger, didn't you?" "Yes," Katie replied matter of factly. "But you were in bad shape nonetheless. I couldn't just leave you alone. So Mary Alice and I stayed up to keep an eye on you just in case the bleeding started again." His steady gaze taunted her but he said nothing. He lay still to let Katie fuss and check the new bandage a half dozen times before she was satisfied. When she moved back a step from his side at last, Tulane took her hand and pressed it lightly to his lips while his eyes kept hers prisoner. "Thank you, Katherine." Katie smiled at the simplicity of that statement. The words were so common, so casually spoken they could have meant nothing more than they implied had she not been looking into his eyes. There was so much more to those simple words. She wondered if Tulane even realized it yet.

Before she had a chance to comment, there was the sudden approach of hoofbeats outside followed by the banging of the front door. She turned to see what the commotion was, already knowing it would be Milo Newman's voice. "Matt!" he was calling in a high pitched, foreign sounding voice. "Matt! Stoddard just wrecked my place! My crop is ruined, my barn is burned to the ground and he said if I don't leave the valley right now he'll burn the house next while we sleep! "Matt, what am I going to do? Tell me what to do, Matt!" CHAPTER NINETEEN It was a grim faced group gathered around Katie's kitchen table. News of the Newman's attack spread quickly. By nine o'clock the rest of the farmers had arrived at Matt's to discuss the situation. Milo Newman's usually jolly features were bleak, his eyes sad, his face filled with despair. The others didn't look much better. Matt glanced from one somber face to the next, wondering how things had gotten to this point. While the other men speculated on Fletcher's next move, Matt's mind kept straying to the giggles coming from Dane's room down the hallway. Katie had agreed to let the children keep Tulane company while this meeting took place but Matt was far from pleased about it. It took great concentration to keep his mind on the matter at hand while he tried to tune out the happy sounds of his children's laughter coming from down the hall. It had been pure accident that he'd seen the wounded gunman kiss Katie's hand, but Matt had not been mistaken about the sincerity of the gesture nor his wife's pleased expression. Katie had been acting strangely since the night of the storm, he reminded himself bitterly. He believed that she'd had no choice but spend the night in the line shack to escape the violent storm, but her actions since hinted that she may have enjoyed spending the night in Tulane's company more than she wanted him to believe. He suddenly realized that Milo Newman had posed a question. He had to deliberately hesitate to give his mind a chance to catch up with the conversation going on around him. "What are we going to do, Matt?" Milo repeated worriedly.

"We're going to get back to work," Matt answered with conviction. He rose with the help of his crutch, then paused until all conversation had stopped and all eyes were on him. "We can rebuild your barn, Milo, and we'll all help out until you can get a crop in this fall. But we're not going to solve anything by sitting around here feeling sorry for ourselves. " "What about Stoddard's threat, Matt?" Milo pointed out. "He said if I didn't pull out right away he'd be back to burn the house...and us...in our beds." "I'm going to talk to Justin," Matt revealed in a softer tone. He gave the men time to absorb this bit of news before explaining any further. "Justin is a reasonable man. In spite of all that's happened I still believe that. He can't want more bloodshed. Maybe I can reason with him, work something out." "You can't be serious!" Duncan McGee blurted out in his thick Scottish brogue. "You saw him yesterday morning in town when those killers showed up. He was enjoying every minute of it until Tulane scattered them all over the street. You can't reason with him, Matt." The others nodded in agreement, but Matt interrupted more discussion with a wave of one big hand. "I've made up my mind. There's been too much killing already. It's time to talk." "I just hope Jake Stoddard lets you close enough to Justin to talk," Duncan grumbled. "It's a waste of time, Matt. You know it as well as I." When an hour of arguing did not change Matt's mind, the group left to help Milo begin cleaning up his farm. When they had rattled down the trail toward the Newman farm, Matt limped down the hall to Dane's room. Silence greeted him as he stepped into the room. Both children had gone outside to play so Tulane could get some rest and the gunman was alone. He wasn't asleep however, and looked up at Matt with a smile when Matt hobbled into the room. "Looks like you're feeling better," Matt said shortly. Tulane nodded, his face sobering instantly at the seriousness he saw in Matt. "I'll be up in a day or two, nothing to worry about." Matt nodded, rubbing absently at his chin while he tried to formulate the words he wanted. "Guess you know about Newman's visitors this morning." "Yes. Jake didn't waste any time." There was a long moment of silence before Matt squared his massive shoulders and met Tulane's inquiring eyes. "This whole business has gotten out of hand, Tulane. It's gone much too far. It's time I did something about

it."

Tulane's brows raised curiously while he waited for Matt to explain, but Matt offered no explanation. Instead, he shifted on the crutch beneath his arm and took a deep breath. "So, soon as you're up to it, Tulane, I want you off my land." Tulane stared at him in silence for a moment. There was much hostility in Matt's uneven gaze. Anger and resentment that Tulane felt sure had nothing to do with his problems with Fletcher. "Mind telling me why?" "There's been too much killing, Tulane," Matt replied curtly. "In the time you've been here you've killed how many men, eight? Nine? Ten?" Tulane shrugged slightly, keeping his gaze steady with Matt's, sensing the discomfort this caused the big man. "I haven't counted." "The simple truth is, Tulane, that I don't like having a man with your disregard for human life around my children. You're not a good influence for them, especially Dane." "Is that all there is to it, Matt?" Tulane questioned softly. "I'm a bad influence?" "That's enough, don't you think?" Without being aware of it, Matt's gaze shifted to the corner post of the bed where Tulane's gunbelt hung. He swallowed, cursing himself for the way his stomach churned at the sight of the weapon. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, Tulane," he went on after pausing to wet his lips with his tongue. "I know you've saved my life a couple of times, even got yourself shot for it, but nonetheless, when you're able to travel I want you to leave." "All right, Matt, if that's what you want," Tulane said dryly. He had the gut feeling that Matt was lying. It was in the depths of Matt's eyes, in the way he could not hold a direct gaze for more than a moment before looking away. "But let me give you one last piece of advice; don't go to Fletcher's. Jake's just waiting for you to make a move like that. When you do, he's going to kill you." "That's a chance I'm willing to take," Matt grunted as he hobbled from the room. Once he was out of sight, he paused to lean against the wall and let out a long, relieved breath. Looking down at his hands, he was appalled to see that he was trembling. He cursed himself for this weakness. "Jesus," he said softly to himself as he leaned on the wall for support. "The man has a bullet hole in him big enough to throw a cat through and he can still scare the living hell out of me. Thank God he'll soon be gone."

Katie's eyes grew wide with anxiety when Matt revealed his plan to visit Justin a few minutes later. She was just finishing the breakfast dishes, humming a cheerful tune while she smiled at the children as Dane pushed his little sister in the rope swing suspended from the oak tree that occupied one corner of the yard, when Matt announced his intentions. "Matthew, no!" she cried, the dishes forgotten as she spun from the kitchen window. "You can't!" Matt's face was set in grim lines of determination as he gave her no more than a passing glance as he hobbled through the kitchen toward the front door. "I wasn't asking your permission, Katie," he growled as he paused to pick up his rifle from behind the door. "I'm just telling you where I'm going. And while I'm at it, I also told Tulane to hit the road as soon as he's able." Katie stared at him speechless. The man she was looking at bore little resemblance to the man she'd married. This new Matt was cold and bitter, but she knew instinctively this abrupt change was because of her. "You can't be serious! What's gotten into you, Matthew?" Matt paused with his hand on the door frame, then turned to face her. "You don't like the idea of him leaving, do you, Katie?" he challenged in a cold tone. "Well, I don't like the idea of a man like that around my children so I fired him. I can handle this business by myself." "No, Matthew, I don't like the idea of him leaving, not right now anyway. He's in no condition to travel. Or have you forgotten that he was injured for taking our side in this?" Matt's heavy brows drew into a black scowl at the cool, clipped scorn in Katie's voice. Her face had paled except for two bright spots of color in her cheeks. She stood a foot away, hands on her hips, glaring up at him with such contempt it made Matt's hands clinch into fists of frustration. "I've forgotten nothing, Katie," he answered defensively. "I know the man saved my life a couple of times and I know he was shot for helping us out, but.." "But nothing! This is how you say thank you to a man for saving your life? I can't believe you could be so callous, Matthew! I'm ashamed of you!" "I don't like what's happened to us since he came here, Katie." He had turned completely, leaning heavily on the crutch as he and Katie glared at one another. "I don't like the way the kids adore him, think he's so damned wonderful. He's a hired killer, Katie, just like Jake Stoddard.

There's not a shred of difference in the two of them. I don't want Dane idolizing a man like that. "And I don't like the way he looks at you, Katie. I don't like it a damned bit. I won't stand for it." "So that's it?" Katie accused tensely. "You're jealous? You're going to get yourself killed because you're jealous?" "Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine. I don't need Tulane to look out for me. I can take care of myself," Matt returned, ignoring her mention of jealously. "If you go to Justin's, Matthew, you'll be killed. I know it. Please don't go! You have nothing to prove to anyone, least of all to me. Please don't do this! Listen to me!" Matt shook his head as a rueful smile came to his lips. He limped to take Katie in his arms and gave her a brief affectionate hug. Kissing the top of her head, he murmured, "I'm not doing this because I think I have to prove something, Katie, my love. There's been enough violence. I don't believe Justin is any happier about things than I am. I think he may listen to me now." He released her then and hobbled out the door and across the yard to the barn. Within a few minutes Katie watched him ride out of the yard in the direction of the Circle F. She saw him go with tears streaming down her face. Her heart felt like a stone in her chest as she absently wiped her eyes. Regardless of what Matt said, she knew he was trying to prove to her, as well as himself, that he did not need outside help to protect his family. She was pulled from those frightening thoughts by Tulane calling her from the room down the hall. She wiped at her eyes as she hurried into his room. Her eyes widened with alarm when she saw him sitting up on the edge of the bed, struggling into his clothes. "Christopher! What on earth are you doing?" Tulane shot her a determined glance. "Don't just stand there, Katherine. Get my boots." He ignored the sharp intake of her breath as she rushed to follow his command, concentrating instead on making his weak muscles obey his silent orders to lift him off the bed and stand upright. "You're insane!" Katie whispered as she helped pull his shirt over the one sound arm and then more carefully over the bulky bandage that encircled his left shoulder. Once the shirt was in place he placed the wounded arm back inside the sling that circled his neck, waiting patiently

for Katie to button it. When that was done, he reached for the gunbelt hanging over the bedpost and leaned against it while he took the arm back out of the sling long enough to buckle the gunbelt in place and tie it down. His face was pale, strained with pain by the time he was fully dressed. He gritted his teeth, commanding his body to ignore the pain that ripped through his chest. "Have Dane saddle my horse," he told Katie through clinched teeth as he walked unsteadily through the house. "You can't do this, Christopher," Katie argued while she followed him. "You'll kill yourself. You'll tear the wound open. You'll bleed to death." "Dane!" Tulane called, instructing the boy to saddle the black stallion as quickly as he could, then he said to Katie in a softer tone. "Matt's walking into a trap. Jake will kill him the second he sets foot on Fletcher land if I don't go. You must know that, Katherine." Katie's eyes filled with tears but she angrily wiped them away. By now they were in the shade of the barn a few feet from where Dane was busily saddling the stallion. "Yes, I know. I begged him not to go but he wouldn't listen." "What's gotten into him?" Katie shrugged unhappily as she glanced at her son. Nearby Glenna stood with her finger in her mouth, watching them with frightened eyes. "It's you, Christopher. He feels threatened by you. He thinks he must prove he doesn't need your help." Tulane shook his head in puzzlement. "There's no reason for him to feel threatened by me. Certainly not reason enough to get himself killed." Dane led the big horse from the stall and handed Tulane the reins. He took them in his right hand, gripping the saddlehorn at the same time. Gritting his teeth against the pain that whipped through him, he forced himself into the saddle, then grinned as the stallion entered the sunlight. "Don't worry, Katherine. I'll have him home in time for supper," he said cheerfully as he urged the stallion into a brisk canter. Behind him, Katie watched until he disappeared on the horizon. She was frightened, yet strangely relieved that Tulane was going after Matt. This would not be the day that Justin Fletcher's hired guns had their way. She knew Tulane, even weak as he was, would bring Matt home safely. Tulane had never failed her; he would not fail her now.

CHAPTER TWENTY Matt was drenched in sweat by the time the white ranch house sprang into sight. Many times he had almost turned back, but something forced him onward. Now as he rode under the arched sign bearing the Circle F emblem, he knew it was too late to turn back. Whatever would happen, would happen. Justin Fletcher's headquarters lay in a gentle valley between two swells in the prairie. The two story frame house stood out like a beacon in the landscape for its sparking white paint was the only splash of color in an otherwise endless sea of grass. Off to the right stood the sprawling bunkhouse with the cook shack attached at one end. Beyond were the corrals and stables. A half dozen men came out of the bunkhouse to watch Matt approach, but he pretended not to see them. He rode with rigid determination straight toward the house, looking neither left nor right, trying to keep the gnawing fear in his stomach from showing. He pulled the horse to a halt in front of the house just as Justin came out the door. Momentary surprise flickered across Justin's handsome face. Then it was gone as he took his time selecting a thin brown cigar from the gold case inside his vest and lighting it. By the time Justin was ready to talk, Taryn was at his side. Jake Stoddard had taken up a position off to Matt's left where no one would be in his line of fire should the situation warrant gunplay. "Well, Matt," Justin drawled pleasantly. "What brings you out this way? Lost your way?" Matt shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as he subdued the urge to rub his aching leg. "No, Justin, I'm not lost. I came out to talk to you." Justin's brows raised slightly above the plume of cigar smoke that drifted upward. "I can't imagine what we might have to talk about, Matt. Unless you've come to your senses and have decided to take my original offer." Matt shook his head stubbornly, noting that the cowboys had left their jobs and were moving closer to watch. Though they remained silent, Matt felt their anger loud and clear, saw it in their tight faces and cold eyes. "No, Justin, that's not what I've come to talk about." "Then we have nothing to discuss." Justin turned to begin walking away, then changed his mind. He

turned back to the edge of the porch. "I never figured you for a fool, Matt, but coming out here was the stupidest thing you could do. Don't you know that I can kill you on the spot and be within my rights?" "I suppose you could, Justin," Matt agreed. He suppressed a shudder at the sight of Jake Stoddard's wily smile and looked quickly back to Justin. "Somehow I just don't think you will." "What makes you so damned sure?" Matt shrugged. "Because I think you must be as tired of all this as I am. Don't you think there's been enough killing, Justin? Don't you think it's time you and I sat down together and worked something out?" Justin jerked the cigar from his mouth and flipped it into the yard angrily. "The only thing I want to hear from you is that you're getting off my land. Until then, whatever happens is on your head, Matt. You started this, remember? You and your plow pushing friends moved in on my land and started plowing it up, fencing it off. My cows need water, Matt, and I intend for them to get it. Even if it means running them right over you." "We bought the land from your father, Justin, fair and square, and legal," Matt disagreed wearily. Bitterness turned Justin's eyes a deeper shade of green, made them sparkle with contempt as he glared at Matt. "This is cattle country, Matt. There's no room for your kind with your fences and your neat little plots of plowed ground." "There's room enough for all of us. We can work it out, Justin. There's water enough for everybody. Nobody else has to die." "No! Your deeds are invalid. That means your claim to the land is invalid. I will not compromise, Matt. The land is mine and I aim to have it all." Matt shook his head sadly as he drew a deep, ragged breath. This meeting was not going the way he'd anticipated. He felt a deeper stir of uneasiness. The look on Jake Stoddard's weasel-like face made his blood run cold. He wished he'd thought this out in greater detail. "Be reasonable, Justin," he said in a controlled voice, hoping no one could tell just how frightened he really was. "If this blood-letting keeps up no one is going to win. There won't be anything left." "If I were you, Wainwright, I'd be more concerned about things closer to home." It was Taryn's taunting voice that drew Matt's attention as the girl sauntered up beside Justin at the porch's edge. She placed her hands on her hips as she stared at Matt levelly while her black eyes danced with pleasure.

"What do you mean by that?" Matt asked suspiciously. "I mean that your wife is awfully friendly with the gunfighter you hired. I saw them the morning after the storm...you know the one. The night they spent together in that old line shack? They looked pretty cozy to me. "Your wife looked pretty damned guilty when I rode up, like she had something to hide. If I were you, I'd ask her about that night. I'll bet they did a lot more than just talk." The taunting quality of her voice grated on Matt's nerves almost as much as the ring of confidence it contained. Matt swallowed hard to bite back the denial that burned his lips. Only a short time earlier he'd had some of the those same doubts. Wasn't that the real reason he'd told Tulane to leave, he asked himself. "I trust my wife." "She wouldn't be the first woman who sampled the forbidden fruit," Taryn replied with a knowing smile. "Can't say I blame her. I can certainly understand why she'd be tempted to forget about being married for awhile. Let's face it, Matt, there's no comparison between you and Tulane. Any woman with blood in her veins would have to think about it." "You're crazy!" Matt snorted, but without the conviction he hoped for. "Katherine would never.." His voice trailed off at the sight of Jake Stoddard slowly raising the rifle he was holding. "You want me to kill him, boss?" Jake asked Justin mildly. Justin considered the question for a moment, then nodded. "Why not? He came out here looking for trouble, Jake. See that he finds it, will you?" With that, he turned and headed for the front door. Matt's eyes were fastened on Jake's rifle. Cold sweat poured down his face, stung his eyes. His heart pounded wildly. He had never known fear like he felt in those few seconds as Stoddard casually aimed the rifle at him. He knew he was going to die. Katie had been right. What a fool he'd been not to listen to her, he thought as he realized he was going to be sick. Before Jake could use the rifle there was a shot. The crack of a high powered rifle sent Jake's gun spinning out of his hands into the dirt. Matt jerked the horse around as Jake ducked behind the porch for cover, then kicked the animal into flight as the distant rifleman kept Jake pinned down out of reach of his weapon. In moments Matt had cleared the Fletcher ranch yard and gained open country. Only when he knew he was beyond rifle range did he slow the

horse to look around for his rescuer. It came as no surprise when Tulane moved the black stallion from behind an oak a few yards away. In the few seconds it took Tulane to glance back over his shoulder to make sure Fletcher's men were not pursuing them, Matt saw the spreading patch of blood on the gunman's dark blue shirt and recognized the pain that made his lips thin into grim lines. Tulane's face was almost white from pain and the effort it had taken to lift the heavy Winchester and keep firing until Matt could escape. "Let's get out of here," Tulane suggested curtly, swinging the stallion around to point him toward the farm. Matt did not speak for a time, but he was in total agreement. It was several miles before his hands stopped shaking and his breathing returned to a normal level. When he could finally speak without his voice trembling, he twisted in the saddle to look at Tulane as they galloped across the prairie. "I suppose I ought to thank you...again," he grunted. Tulane did not reply, but kept his eyes straight ahead and his teeth gritted against the pain that set his chest on fire with every jolting stride of the big stallion. "You're bleeding. You've torn the wound open." Tulane looked at him then, the clear mosaic eyes level and unblinking, so direct Matt became uncomfortable. "Don't worry about me, Matt. I'll be leaving as soon as I get you delivered to your family." Matt's face flushed with embarrassment as he glanced away. "That's not necessary, Tulane. You're in no condition to be going anywhere. You had no business coming after me…with a wound like that.." His voice drifted off in confusion. "If I hadn't, you'd be dead now." The cold flat tone of Tulane's voice increased Matt's discomfort, made him shift in the saddle again. "I know that," he admitted. "I owe you my life...again." "You don't owe me anything." "But I already fired you. There was no reason for you to risk yourself after the things I said," Matt said lamely. "Let's get one thing straight." The calm tone of Tulane's voice made Matt blink uneasily, but the sparkle in those dark silver-blue eyes made it impossible for him to look away. "I came after you for one reason; because Katherine knew you were going to get yourself killed. It was a favor to her, nothing more." "I see," Matt said awkwardly. Then he gathered his courage to add,

"About Katie, Tulane...I know you've got feelings for her. I may be stupid but I'm not blind." "My feelings are my own business," Tulane snapped. Matt felt foolish and looked away again. Finally he swallowed his pride, remembering those few seconds of blind terror when he was staring down the barrel of Jake Stoddard's rifle. "Tulane, I apologize for what I said this morning and I'd appreciate it if you'd just forget it. Stay on with us, see this thing through." "I don't see how I can do that. I won't work for a man who changes his mind as often as you do." Sweat beaded up on Matt's broad forehead, trickled into his eyes before he reached up to wipe it away with the back of one brawny hand. Fear gnawed at his insides, making his hands start to shake again. "Tulane, if you won't do it for me, then do it for Katherine." Surprise flickered through Tulane's multicolored eyes as he returned Matt's unsteady gaze. "Do it for Katherine?" he echoed. "A minute ago you accused me of having designs on Katherine." Matt shrugged as he rubbed the broken leg absently. "I apologize again, Tulane, but it's because of your feelings for Katie that you should stay on." Tulane's brows lifted in surprise while he awaited Matt's explanation. "You see, I'm a damned fool. Without you around to protect me from myself, Katie will probably be a widow in short order. I'm not a stupid man, Tulane, but I don't know how to fight men like Justin and Stoddard. You do. "We need you, not just me, but the others as well. If you walk out on us now Justin will win. You know it and I know it. So if you have any feelings for Katie, you'll stay to see that she has a home left when this is over." Tulane regarded him in silence while he digested Matt's words. The momentary surprise had faded into ironic amusement that made his lips twitch with the urge to laugh. He had seen hundreds of men who had been scared badly enough to sacrifice their ideals in order to save their lives, but somehow he had never figured Matt Wainwright to be one of them. This frightened, nervous man bore little resemblance to the man Tulane had come to like and respect. Right now he neither liked nor respected Matt Wainwright. But the man did have one point. "All right, Matt, I'll stay...for Katherine."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Katie's brows rose in surprise at Tulane's question. For a moment she stared at him without speaking, then her expression became thoughtful as she pondered his question. "Why yes, Christopher, it's around here somewhere. Let me think," she said while tapping her lips with a long slim finger. Then her face brightened. "Yes, it's in the Bible. That's where Matthew put it." "Can I see it, please?" She nodded on her way out of his room. She hurried down the hall to the living room to rummage in the large, worn family Bible until she located the document he'd asked about. "Here it is," she announced while producing the neatly folded paper. Tulane's sharp eyes scanned the official document in silence for several moments before lifting his gaze to Katie's curious face. "And a US Marshal served this?" "Yes, a Marshal from Billings. Why, Christopher? Is there something wrong with it?" Tulane shook his head, then dropped his eyes back to the document once more. "No, it's legal enough, Katherine. It's signed by a circuit judge and was served in person by a US Marshal. There's just one thing about it that I find curious." "What's that, Christopher?" Katie asked hopefully. "Well, this court order is dated nearly six months ago. It gives you until the first of August to be off the land. That means that Justin Fletcher started trying to force you off more than three months earlier than the order says you have to be gone." "Is that significant?" "Maybe," Tulane said thoughtfully. "It may be enough to get an injunction against this court order," he added with the first sign of a smile Katie had seen since his return to the farm with Matt hours before. "An injunction?" Katie repeated, puzzled. "How would that help us?" Tulane scanned the document once more but lifted his gaze at the curiosity in her voice. The sight of her finely arched brows drawn into a baffled expression brought a slight smile to his face. He laid aside the paper and leaned back against the supporting pillows to stare at her, then smiled indulgently. "It would give us time for an official investigation to be held, for one

thing," he explained. "Time to prove Fletcher bribed a judge in order to get your deeds declared invalid, maybe even have this court order over-turned." A faint ray of hope made Katie's blue eyes begin to shine, but she deliberately swallowed it in an effort to remain logical. "It's a fine idea, Christopher, but rather useless, I'm afraid. You see, Matthew has tried to have the matter investigated before, right after Justin got our deeds declared invalid, but no one would even listen to him. Justin has great influence, I'm afraid. No one is going to listen to us." A secretive smile curled Tulane's expressive lips at the sadness in her face while he studied her. The simple gingham dress clung to her curves, outlining and defining the swell of her breasts, the valley of her stomach. Her long beige hair was braided loosely into one large braid that hung down her back like a little girl's. The prim white collar of the dress was open against the heat that seeped up through the floor of the cool, dark house. "Maybe you've been contacting the wrong people." Surprise arched Katie's brows as hope flared in her eyes. "Who could you contact, Christopher, that is above Justin's reach?" "There are still a few honest men left in the world, Katherine," he replied dryly. "And surprising though it may be, I happen to know a couple of them." He lifted one hand to stifle her questions while handing her the court order with the other. "Now, now, Katherine, no more questions. You'll have to wait until I get this figured out before I say anything more. "Meanwhile, do you think you could persuade Dane to take my horse and go around to the other farms? I want to call a meeting as soon as possible. It's best to move on this before Justin tries something else." Katie saw at a glance that he was not going to reveal anything further so she agreed to send Dane on his mission right away, knowing the boy would jump at the chance to ride the black stallion. Katie stood in the doorway of the barn, watching silently as Matt sharpened the long curved scythe he used for cutting the wheat when it was time to harvest. The barn was dark and cool, a welcome respite from the hot July sun, as she observed him bent intently over his chore. There was an unfamiliar tenseness in him lately, something strange that disturbed her. Moving farther into the interior of the building, her lips tightened at the grimness that filled his face and made his eyes bleak. "What happened out here today, Matthew?" she asked softly behind him. Matt jumped at the unexpected sound of her voice, then recovered

with a shrug. His massive shoulders strained the brown homespun shirt with the motion, his big hands moved steadily up and down the blade of the scythe with the whetstone while he pointedly avoided her eyes. "Nothing that hasn't happened a half dozen times in the past six or seven weeks," he grunted in a surly voice. "I got myself into a mess and Tulane got me out of it." "Is that why you decided to let him stay on?" Matt shrugged again, still keeping his eyes averted from hers. "It's kind of hard to fire a man after he saves your bacon." The memory of the deadly intent in Jake Stoddard's cold eyes came washing over him again, making him shiver in spite of the heat. "I thought you didn't want him around the children." Matt decided not to mention the undercurrent of scorn in Katie's voice. He lifted his head to glance at her briefly, then went back to his task with more enthusiasm than was really necessary. "I still don't," he grunted. "If your opinion of him hasn't changed, Matthew, why did you change your mind about letting him stay?" "I owe him, Katie, whether I like it or not. That's all; I just owe him." "Are you still jealous of him, Matthew?" The question was posed in a soft tone but it brought Matt's head up with a snap. He stared in her deep blue eyes for a moment before looking away from the wise, knowing expression on her face. "Hell, yes," he growled. "I'm jealous, Katie, I can't help it. He has feelings for you. It's obvious; It's there every time he looks at you. But..." his voice drifted off as he looked away from her. "But we need him. It's just that simple." Katie remained silent. The ragged quality in Matt's voice caught her attention, held it. It was unlike Matt to look away when he spoke to her. She sensed a deep unrest in him, something dark and disturbing. She also knew he was not ready to discuss it. "He has done terrible things, Matthew," she said quietly. "Things you and I can't begin to imagine, but he isn't a terrible man. In spite of everything, there's a great deal of good left in him." "Is that what you see in him, Katherine? The good?" Katie's gaze locked with his feeling the challenge beneath his soft spoken words, seeing it in the depths of his eyes before he looked away. "Yes, Matthew, I see the good in him." "Is that all?"

"What is it you're asking me, Matthew? If I'm attracted to him? If I think he's handsome? Yes, Matthew, the answer is yes. I think Tulane is probably the most handsome man I've ever known and if I allowed myself to be, I could become very attracted to him." The quiet, self assured way she answered him made Matt's knees go weak with anxiety. The coolness in her eyes made him feel foolish. He wished the subject had never been brought up. Katie's honesty was one of the things that had made him fall in love with her, but right now he wished she would lie. He did not want to know that she was attracted to Tulane. He did not want to know if she returned the gunman's affection. "You know he's in love with you?" Katie nodded briefly, her deep blue eyes troubled. "Yes, Matthew, I know...but Tulane doesn't. He believes himself to be beyond loving anyone ever again." Matt nodded in agreement, hoping fervently that she was right. It was bad enough that the gunman was falling in love with his wife, but knowing that, he had still asked Tulane to stay on. A wry smile touched his mouth at the thought of his behavior earlier in the day. Asked Tulane to stay? Hell, he had all but begged him, but the worst thing was that if it had to be done over again, he'd do the same thing. He glanced around to find that Katie had left the barn. He watched her slender form glide across the open space to the house, then sadly shook his head. "It's a sad thing, Katie, my girl," he said to her disappearing figure. "To realize that you're not the man you thought you were. Sadder still to know that the one man who can save you from your enemies is the same man who can take everything that's important in your life away from you if he chooses. "Yes, Katie, my girl, I pray you're right. I pray that Tulane never realizes how deep his feelings for you go because God help me if he does. He already knows I'm a coward. He's lost all respect for me because of it. If you find out, Katie, you'll lose respect for me too and if that happens you'll turn to him. And I couldn't really blame you." The farmers looked at Tulane expectantly. It was late but the farmhouse was cool and comfortable with the advance of evening. Lamps lit the kitchen with a warm glow that reflected the curiosity in the eyes of the men who sat around the table drinking coffee. Tulane's dark face contained more color than it had in some time. He

looked surprisingly well for a man who had been nearly killed only a few days before. He was completely dressed and except for the sling that cradled his left arm against his chest, it was difficult to tell he'd ever been injured. All chatter stopped as he got to his feet to address the group, all eyes glued to his face. There was an air of hope about the Wainwright's that spread quickly through the others. "What's this all about, Tulane?" Duncan McGee asked in his thick Scottish accent to break the silence. "I want to try something," Tulane said. "I'm going to try to get an injunction against Fletcher's court order." "We've already tried that," Fenton Elwood said with a snort. "Fletcher's bought off every judge in the territory. What makes you think you can do any better?" "Then we'll have to go over the judges. Go to a higher authority," Tulane replied calmly with a glance at Elwood. Duncan's broad forehead furrowed in thought. "What higher authority are you talking about, laddie?" "The US Army." "The army?" Alfred Wilson exclaimed in surprise. "The army won't get involved in our squabbles with Fletcher. They're too busy fighting Indians to bother with us." "Maybe you don't know how to persuade them," Tulane told him dryly with just the hint of a smile. "And I suppose you do!" Fenton Elwood snorted. "Let's just say that I have an idea of where to start." "Go on, Tulane," Alfred Wilson urged hopefully. "Supposing we did get an injunction against Fletcher. What would it accomplish?" "It would get an investigation into just how Justin Fletcher got his court order in the first place. If we're lucky, maybe even get it overturned." "You think you can persuade someone in the army to launch such an investigation?" Duncan inquired. Tulane nodded affirmatively. "In spite of my rather abrupt departure from the army, I know a few good officers. One of them is stationed at Fort Lincoln." "You think he'll look into this matter if you ask him?" Milo Newman asked. "I'm sure he will," Tulane answered with a slight smile. "This particular officer owes me a favor."

A burst of spirited chatter broke out around the table as the men began to speculate hopefully for the first time in days. Only Fenton Elwood remained silent, Tulane noticed. The slender man's forehead had begun to bead with perspiration. His eyes darted feverishly from one man to the next while his tongue licked nervously at his mustache. Tulane's sharp eyes narrowed at the anxiety in Elwood's manner. Something was radically wrong with the man. Instead of being happy about the prospect of settling this land dispute for good, Elwood acted worried, almost upset. Perhaps it was time to take a closer look at Mr. Elwood, Tulane decided silently. "So when do we get started on this hair-brained plan of yours?" Duncan asked with a beaming smile. "First thing tomorrow morning," Tulane replied with a smile. "I'll be sending a wire to Fort Lincoln as soon as the telegraph office opens." "How long do you think it'll be before you get a reply?" Matt asked. Tulane's gaze swung to him and held. It was the first time all evening Matt had spoken. Even now his voice was quiet and reserved. It took all his strength to hold the gunman's mocking gaze. His hands trembled beneath the table where no one could see. The contempt in Tulane's face was fleeting, replaced by a coolness that was just as unnerving before he looked away back to the others. "No more than a couple of days." Once more chatter erupted among the men. Matt breathed a sigh of relief when Tulane's attention was diverted from him. A few minutes later the meeting broke up and the men drifted away to get their horses. As Tulane stood on the porch watching them ride into the darkness, he picked Fenton Elwood's form from the group and studied him in silence. Then reaching inside to take his hat from the hall stand inside the door, he smoothed back his hair and put the hat in place. A soft out rush of breath was the only outward sign of pain when he removed the sling from around his neck to pick up his Winchester from behind the door. As he moved past Matt on his way to the barn, Matt asked, "Where in the world are you going this time of night?" Tulane's white teeth flashed in the darkness as he smiled. He had turned from opening the yard gate to look at Matt. Though Matt could not clearly make out his face in the darkness, he felt the coolness in Tulane's voice when he replied.

"I'm going for a ride, Matt. I've got a hunch and I'm going to play it. Don't worry. I'll be back in a couple of hours. No need to be concerned." Matt listened to the crunch of his boots in the dirt as he crossed the space between the house and the barn. Moments later Tulane rode past the gate in the direction the group of men had taken earlier. He scratched his head in puzzlement, then shrugged as he turned back toward the house. Whatever Tulane was up to didn't much matter as long as he got that telegram sent off in the morning and kept Jake Stoddard at bay. Matt didn't much care what else he did as long as he kept his end of their bargain. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Fenton Elwood shuddered with delight as Taryn Fletcher's skilled mouth slid up and down his throbbing flesh. His groan of enjoyment brought a satisfied smile to Taryn's narrowed ebony eyes when she looked up from her position on the floor between his legs to observe the ecstatic expression on his face. "Feel good, Fenton?" she asked slyly. Elwood raised his head from the back of the hard chair to nod. His eyes remained closed, his hands gripped the seat of the chair while his Adams-apple bobbed with enthusiasm as the girl returned to her mission. With skilled efficiency Taryn brought him to the point of release, then backed away and sat smiling at the pained expression that spread over his face. "What did you stop for?" Fenton demanded, straightening up in the chair to stare at her. Taryn wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her cotton shirt. A cold gleam of contempt crept into her coal black eyes while her sensual lips curled into a sneer. "It's time you and I had a little chat, Fenton." "We can talk later," Elwood said while he reached forward with the intention of pulling her head back into position. "We'll talk now," Taryn corrected, smiling at the disappointment that flooded his features. She climbed to her feet, padded across the dimly lit room, paused a few feet from him, and turned back to face him with her features filled with determination. "How long have we been meeting like this, Fenton?" Fenton shrugged and scratched his head but made no effort to retrieve his clothes. He merely looked surprised by her question, but assumed she

would soon say whatever was on her mind and get back to business. So he decided to humor her. "Hell, I don't know. A couple of months, I suppose." "Six months," Taryn replied. "Six months of servicing you and getting nothing in return for it. But all that's about to change, Fenton. It's time you started earning my...how shall I phrase it...my favors." A burst of sarcastic laughter erupted from Elwood while he stared at her, amazed. "Earning your favors?" he repeated scornfully. "What the hell do you call all the information I've given you over the past months? Do you think it's been easy for me to betray my friends?" Taryn's long black mane bounced as she shook her head patiently. "I wouldn't know, Fenton. I've never betrayed a friend." "That's because you've never had one," Elwood retorted. Taryn's black eyes narrowed to mere slits of contempt, but she decided not to comment on the stinging remark but go on to more important matters. "Could be you're right," she conceded with a tight smile. She leaned against the door frame while she observed the curious, slightly annoyed expression on Elwood's face, thinking of the best way to approach what was really on her mind. "The point is, Fenton, that the time has come to get this ugly little business over and done with. If Tulane convinces someone in the army to interfere, well, my cattle need water now. I don't have time to argue legal ethics with some cardboard soldier." "What is your point, Taryn?" Elwood asked impatiently. "It's getting late. Lucy is expecting me home." "Ah, yes, Lucy," Taryn said scornfully. "The good, upright, Lucy. The dutiful wife who doesn't give you what you need in bed so you come to me." Irritation furrowed Elwood's brows. "You've got no right to talk about Lucy like that," he snapped. "It's a little late to start worrying about Lucy," Taryn reminded him with a contemptuous smile. "At any rate, Fenton, I've got a little chore for you to do. Something you'll find very interesting." "Yeah? Like what?" "Like killing Tulane before he can contact that soldier friend of his." Elwood's jaw dropped with shock. After a couple of silent moments, he swallowed and gave a short, brittle laugh. "You're joking! Although Taryn did not speak, the somber expression on her face told him all too clearly that she was, indeed, serious. "That's crazy!" he

protested when he realized she meant it. "Crazy, Fenton? What's crazy about trying to stop Tulane from bringing the army into my business? It makes perfect sense to me." "You want me to go up against a hired killer?" Fenton asked incredulously while he continued to stare at her as though he was seeing her for the very first time. "You saw what he did to those gunmen you set on him. And they were professionals. What makes you think I can do what they couldn't do?" "He won't be expecting it from you. You'll have the element of surprise on your side." "That won't be enough," Elwood replied in a shaky voice. "I'd have to shoot him in the back." "So?" "So I won't do it!" "Oh, you'll do it, Fenton," Taryn said smugly. Her black eyes narrowed to icy slits of contempt as she moved closer. She came across the narrow room to halt before the cringing man with her hands on her hips. "Unless you want dear Lucy to find out how you've been spending so many nights." Elwood's face went chalk white in the glow of the lone lantern that lit the small cramped cabin. His hands began to shake, his forehead beaded with nervous perspiration and he had to swallow several times to find his voice. "You wouldn't!" "Oh, but I would, Fenton. You see, this is a desperate situation. My cattle are thirsty. They'll start dying in a few days if I don't gain access to the water behind your goddamned fence. And if Tulane gets an injunction to stop our court order by bringing the army into this, I'll lose everything. "So you see, Fenton, desperate situations call for desperate measures. How do you think Lucy would take the news that you've been seeing another woman?" "Oh God!" Fenton moaned. He had placed his hands over his face so the words were only a blur, but Taryn understood the helplessness they contained. "Do you think she'd be happy knowing that you've been seeing me, Fenton?" she prodded ruthlessly. "That you've betrayed your friends in order to screw me and have me...pleasure you...in ways she hasn't even imagined?" "I've never killed anybody," Fenton moaned. He lifted bleak eyes to

Taryn's triumphant face. "You did this on purpose! You led me on, tricked me so you could force me into doing something like this!" Taryn nodded. Her teeth were a flash of ivory as she smiled in agreement. "Not that you were difficult to trick. Sheep being led to slaughter are more difficult to maneuver," she told him contemptuously. "You don't seriously think I did all this because I enjoyed it, do you?" Elwood look sick, like he might vomit at any moment. He scrambled into his clothes as quickly as his trembling hands would allow, turning finally to stare at Taryn with bleak, conquered eyes. "I should have known," he said quietly. "You win either way, don't you, Taryn?" he went on with a bit more life in his voice. "I might get lucky and kill Tulane before he realizes what I'm up to, but even if I don't, and he kills me, you've got one less farmer to worry about." Taryn did not answer, but stood staring at him smugly with victorious eyes. "You've got nothing to lose. If I don't do what you want, you'll tell my wife about this trashy little affair. You know she'd leave me flat, take my kids. I'd lose everything that's important to me; my wife, my kids, my farm. "God, how did I ever think that I meant anything to you? And to think I thought I was in love with you! How could I have been so blind?" The defeat in his voice made Taryn smile grimly, her lips a crimson slash in the dim light. "Because you're a man, Fenton, and all men are egotistical fools." Elwood squared his shoulders resolutely as he picked up his hat. "Perhaps you're right, Taryn. But even so, I cared for you. You're incapable of feeling, Taryn. You're cold and ruthless and you don't care who you hurt as long as you get what you want." Taryn stepped aside to let him exit the line shack, watching as he swung onto his horse tied in front. "I'm capable of feeling right enough, Fenton, but it'll take a better man than you. "Remember that you must eliminate Tulane before he can send that telegram. If you fail, Lucy will learn some very unpleasant things about you, Fenton." Elwood did not answer. He swung the horse around and rode into the darkness. Taryn watched him go, then giggled as she mounted her own horse and headed in the opposite direction toward the ranch. As their hoofbeats died away into the darkness, a match flared briefly

to light Tulane's thoughtful expression as he touched the match to the thin cigar between his teeth. He drew on the cigar, then exhaled a plume of aromatic smoke while he led the black stallion around the shack to the front. A half smile came to his lips as he dropped the reins and pushed the creaking door open wide enough to allow him to enter. Taryn Fletcher had left the lamp lit, allowing enough light for a swift inspection of the small dwelling. His gaze lingered on the fireplace where a few days before he had lain with Katie while the fierce storm howled outside. Flicking the ash from his cigar, he paused before blowing out the lamp, remembering those few precious hours. Then giving himself a mental shake, he extinguished the light and went back into the night. He mounted quickly and turned the stallion toward the Wainwright farm. How ironic, he thought grimly, that Fenton Elwood had met Taryn Fletcher at the same place where he and Katie had spent that incredible night. He had been unable to hear the conversation for fear of arousing their suspicions, keeping far enough into the shadows to avoid detection, but it didn't take much imagination to know why the farmer had a midnight rendezvous. Elwood was either working with Fletcher or humping the girl. Probably both, Tulane thought with a wry grin in the darkness. It seemed Taryn Fletcher would screw just about anybody to further her own interests; even the enemy. It came as no surprise to him, but then few things surprised him anymore. His thoughts turned to Matt Wainwright. He wondered for the thousandth time why he had intervened at the Fletcher place. All he had to do was wait until Jake Stoddard killed Matt. Then the pathway would have been cleared, but somehow he had not been able to do it. The thought crossed his mind, but when he saw Jake lift his rifle with every intention of blowing Matt out of the saddle, well...he just couldn't sit there and let it happen. He owed Katherine too much. He shook his head slowly and rubbed the ache in his upper chest. The wound was healing nicely. It would only be a short time until he was as good as new. He wondered if Matt would order him off the farm when he was no longer ailing. No, he reminded himself with a nod, Matt had asked him to stay. For Katherine's sake. How could he have misjudged the man so badly, he wondered. It took a special kind of man to plead for help when the man who represented that help was strongly attracted to his wife, especially

when he went to great lengths to point out that very fact. He would never have figured Matt Wainwright for a coward, but the man was certainly acting the part. First at Fletcher's and now by avoiding Tulane as much as he could. It made Tulane wonder just who it was Matt was more afraid of; Jake Stoddard or him? CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Katie glanced up when Fenton Elwood rode into the barnyard early the following morning. Her eyes still bore the traces of last night's tears and her head ached miserably. Wearily, she paused from hanging out a load of wash to direct Elwood to the barn. Funny that he had asked for Tulane instead of Matt for she was certain that Fenton neither liked nor approved of Tulane. When Elwood had dismounted and walked into the gloom of the barn, she returned to her chores. Wringing out a pair of Dane's worn trousers, she snapped them in the brisk wind, pinned them to the clothesline, then stood back and put one hand to her forehead. Her head pounded from lack of sleep, reminding her of last night's fiasco all over again. Throughout the years, her dissatisfaction with Matt's lovemaking had remained buried beneath a thin veneer of contentment. Last night it had erupted into open conflict. She rubbed her forehead absently, then went back to stringing wet, heavy laundry onto the clothesline. Matt's brooding behavior last night came to mind again, bringing with it the uneasiness that had disturbed her sleep. Matt had never been so demanding before, she thought, nor so insensitive as he'd been last night. It was the first time in their marriage that Katie felt Matt had been striking out at her, deliberately wanting to hurt and humiliate her. She resented it as much as she wished to understand it. She knew it was because of Tulane, but she was at a loss as how to deal with it. She had never considered Tulane a threat to her marriage, even after that glorious night in the line shack. He had shown her how love was meant to be and she was grateful for that. She still craved the tenderness and unique sensuality he'd shown her, but she had never considered ending her marriage because of it. Yet she knew that Matt felt Tulane was his rival for her affection. It was ironic, she supposed, that Matt considered Tulane a threat to their

marriage when the true threat was Matt himself. It was his inability to deal with his insecurities rationally that posed the serious problem. Suddenly Katie's head jerked up, her eyes riveted on the open barn door. Her heart began to pound with alarm for she realized that Fenton Elwood had lifted his rifle from the saddle boot when he dismounted a few minutes earlier. Fenton meant to kill Tulane! She knew it as clearly as she knew her own name! Tulane was not surprised to see Elwood ride into the yard. He was standing with his back to the open door when he heard the approaching hoofbeats, but after a glance to see who was coming, he'd turned back to the task of saddling the stallion in preparation of the trip into town. He gave no more than a passing thought to why Elwood would pay such an early call for he was sure the farmer did not know he'd been followed the previous night when he called on Taryn Fletcher. However, Tulane was also sure it was that very meeting that had prompted this visit so there was nothing to do but wait to see what was on Elwood's mind. With that in mind, he returned to saddling the horse, once more turning his back to the open doorway. He heard the crunch of Elwood's work shoes as he crossed the short distance to the barn, then heard Elwood come to a halt just inside the door. "Morning, Tulane." "Morning, Elwood," Tulane replied without looking around. Whatever the farmer had on his mind seemed important for he sensed the urgency in the man's manner. It was in Elwood's voice, in the way he constantly shifted from one foot to the other. "Guess you're about ready to go into town to send that telegram." "As soon as I've finished saddling my horse." The words were hardly out of his mouth when Tulane heard the hammer cocking on Elwood's rifle. It was a sound he'd become quite familiar with over the years, but one that still brought the hair at the back of his neck to an upright position. Even so, he did not pause in his task. "If you're planning on using that rifle, you'd better get to it, Elwood. I have things to do this morning. I don't have time for games." "It's no game, Tulane," Elwood said shakily. "Turn around, but keep your hands in sight." "Don't you know it's harder to kill a man if you're looking him in the face?" Elwood swallowed, trying to subdue the overwhelming desire to

throw down the gun and run. His entire body had broken out in a cold sweat, his hands had begun to tremble. He felt like he was going to be sick. "Just turn around, Tulane." Tulane turned slowly, keeping his hands in open sight, then stood staring at the frightened man's pale features. He glanced briefly at the rifle in Elwood's shaky hands, then upward into the man's eyes. Elwood was scared so badly the gun shook violently, but Tulane knew it was that very fear that might cause the man to pull the trigger. "I've gotta do this, Tulane," Elwood said in a trembling voice. He licked at his mustache nervously while his eyes flickered over Tulane constantly, watching for some sign of aggression. He was somewhat surprised at the casual, almost amused expression on the gunman's face. "I just want to explain first." "Let me see if I can explain it to you, Elwood. You got yourself mixed up with Justin Fletcher's sister. At first it was just fun and games, then she started wanting information. "By that time, you were in way over your head. You were afraid she'd stop seeing you if you refused so you gave her what she wanted. That was enough for a while. Now she wants you to kill me since the last time someone tried it, they failed. How's that?" Elwood blinked in surprise, then nodded slowly. "I've got no choice, Tulane. If I don't kill you, she'll tell my wife. I'll lose everything. You see it's nothing personal." A wry smile touched Tulane's lips at the man's apology. "I appreciate that, Elwood, but I don't think you can do it." "I have to!" Elwood retorted doggedly. "She'll tell Lucy everything if I don't." "That's not what I mean." Tulane let his right hand drop slowly to his side where his right thumb hooked in the worn gunbelt a few inches from the holster. "I mean that you can't squeeze of a shot before I drop you in your tracks. You saw me outdraw three professional gunmen a few days ago, Elwood. What makes you think you present any kind of a challenge?" Elwood swallowed hard, looking like he was going to vomit, then tried to recover. "You're probably right, Tulane, but I've gotta try." "Don't be a fool, Elwood," Tulane warned softly. "Taryn Fletcher isn't worth getting yourself killed over." "You don't understand, Tulane. She'll tell my wife everything. Lucy'll leave me cold, take my kids." There was an element of desperation in the man's voice that almost

made Tulane feel sorry for him. It was easy to understand how Taryn Fletcher had gotten under Elwood's skin so deeply. With her dark exotic looks and wicked sensuality, the farmer had been doomed the first time she looked at him, Tulane thought grimly. "You know she used you?" Elwood nodded miserably as he took a ragged breath. "I know it now. I was a fool to think she cared for me. It was a pipe dream, that's all, but it doesn't change anything. I've still got to kill you." "Then you best be doing it." The flinty challenge in Tulane's voice made Elwood swallow the panic rising in his throat. He tried to think clearly but all he could see was his family pulling out of the valley, leaving him behind with his shame. He began to raise the rifle with the intention of pulling the trigger, but before it had moved more than a fraction, Tulane's gun hand flashed for the deadly Colt on his hip. A second later Elwood's rifle went spinning into the loose hay on the barn floor, leaving him to stare stupidly at the smoking gun in Tulane's hand. When he realized the gunman had disarmed him, Elwood began to cry. He dropped to his knees in the hay, covered his face with both hands and sobbed like a child. Tulane stood over him for a long moment, still holding his pistol, then dropped it back into the holster as he walked past Elwood into the bright morning sunlight, leading the stallion. Katie ran toward him, then paused when he caught her arm. "Leave him be, Katherine. I imagine he wants to be alone for awhile." Katie stared up at him in momentary surprise. She had seen many emotions flash through this man's face in the past few weeks; anger, passion, amusement, even genuine affection, but compassion was the last thing she might have expected. Yet, she now saw compassion for Fenton Elwood in the depths of those remarkable multi-colored eyes and was touched by it. "I'm glad you didn't kill him," she murmured in the few seconds it took Matt to arrive from the house. "There was no need. " He released her arm as Matt approached while a frown settled on his face at Matt's belligerent expression. "He's been through enough and I'm afraid it's not over." Katie nodded in understanding, stepping away from him as Matt limped up beside her. "What the devil is going on here?" Matt demanded in a booming voice.

"It's Fenton," Katie explained hurriedly. "He tried to kill Christopher. Taryn Fletcher put him up to it." "What?" Matt croaked in amazement. Before Katie had time to explain in greater detail, there was the loud report of a heavy caliber rifle. The sound echoed from inside the barn as Tulane dropped the horse's reins and ran back inside. It took a mere glance to see that Fenton Elwood was dead. The single shot from the Winchester had blown away the back of his head. Blood and gray brain matter were splattered over the interior of the barn, soaking into the loose hay and the rough flooring beneath. "Dear God!" Matt exclaimed softly. He stared down at the dead man's body in horrified silence, unable to move even when Katie swept past him to see what had happened. Her eyes widened in horror at the grizzly sight on the barn floor. One hand went to her mouth to stifle the vomit that threatened to choke her. She dropped to her knees beside Elwood and reached out a trembling hand to close his vacant eyes. "Poor Fenton," she whispered in a broken voice. "He must have been so distraught. He knew he'd lost everything." "And this was his way out," Tulane agreed soberly. "He couldn't kill me so he killed himself. What a goddamned waste!" Katie felt him pull her back to her feet, then push her gently toward the open door. She moved on wooden legs, like a puppet, as he propelled her into the fresh air. "I don't understand. What brought this on? Why would Fenton do such a thing?" Matt asked. In a few short sentences Tulane explained the situation while Matt stared at him wide-eyed and disbelieving. "You mean Fenton has been relaying information to Fletcher all this time?" he asked when Tulane finished. "It appears so." "Funny what a man will do when there's a woman involved," Matt remarked bitterly with a meaningful glance at Katie from the corner of his eyes. "Some men anyway." Tulane's reply was clipped and cold. "Most men. Even when the woman belongs to someone else." "Is that supposed to mean something?" For a moment Matt considered clarifying his statement but the coldness that had crept into Tulane's eyes stopped him. He read the

gunman's subtle challenge all too clearly, but while resentment made his heart pound with the urge to blurt out his true feelings, fear suddenly paralyzed his throat. He was incapable of speaking. Even his breath froze in his lungs momentarily while he stared into Tulane's glittering eyes. The image of him lying dead, covered in blood, his own brain matter splattered on the ground while Tulane stood over him with a smoking gun leaped into his mind's eye. His knees went weak at that picture, bile rose up in his throat to choke him as blind terror swept through him. Cursing himself, Matt turned toward the barn without answering Tulane's question. He was now covered in cold sweat. His body trembled so violently it took all his concentration not to stagger as he stalked away. Katie stared after him in surprised silence, then recovered and reached out to touch Tulane's arm as he swung up onto the stallion. "Christopher, what's going on between you and Matthew? He's been acting very strangely ever since the day you brought him home from Justin's. Please tell me what's wrong." Tulane forced a tight smile to his lips. His hand dropped to cover hers briefly where it lay on his thigh, then lifted it back to the saddlehorn. "Nothing for you to worry about, Katherine. Really. Just a difference of opinion." "About me?" "There's no reason for you to be concerned, Katherine," he repeated in a lower tone. "Matt knows nothing about the night of the storm." "But he suspects. I'm certain of it." Tulane studied the strain in her face, then lifted one hand to gently touch the dark circles beneath her eyes. "Is that why you've been crying?" Katie blushed and pulled back from his touch, glancing toward the barn to see if Matt had observed the gesture. "No, of course not," she denied. "You're lying, Katherine." Katie glanced away from the intent expression that had crept into his face. "It's nothing, Christopher, at least nothing to do with you. It's very personal." Tulane studied her silently for a moment before nodding slightly. "All right, Katherine, if you say so. But know this; if he ever hurts you, for whatever reason, he'll have to answer to me." The words had been softly spoken but there was no mistaking the granite beneath them. His eyes sparkled as they stared at one another for a short pause during which Katie tried to formulate some response.

Her throat had closed off, her breathing suspended as she stared into his silver eyes. She was acutely aware suddenly of his nearness, of the clean masculine scent of him, of the heat that radiated from his body to hers, enveloping her until she was mesmerized and unable to speak. She realized that she wanted him. Wanted to lie in his arms again while he made her feel like the woman she now knew herself to be. Then as quickly as it came, the feeling was stifled beneath a great wave of guilt and fear. Not merely fear that Matt might learn the extent of her involvement with Tulane, but fear that she was becoming more deeply attracted to him than she could control. She could only stand there trembling with indecision as he smiled faintly, then urged the stallion into a gallop as he set off for town to complete his mission to ask the army for assistance. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR The days crawled by until a week passed. Fenton Elwood was buried in a simple private ceremony and his family left immediately afterward to return East. Katie sat on the front porch shelling black-eyed peas, methodically ripping open the pea pods with her thumb nails and dumping the peas into her apron. The porch was shady and cool, a welcome respite from the humid heat that lay over the land. It had rained every day since Elwood's death, she thought absently, wondering if that was some kind of omen. Dane and Glenna sat on the porch steps at her feet, each with their own pail of peas, shelling and grumbling about missing an afternoon of fishing. The complaints came mostly from Dane, but his little sister tried hard to copy everything he did, so each time he complained Glenna mimicked his words. Katie hardly noticed their dissatisfaction with the chore for her mind was too busy trying to figure out her husband. For days Matt had been distant, even cold, a shell of the man Katie knew. Though she tried to deny it, she knew his strange behavior was caused by fear. She lifted a hand to brush back a stray lock of hair, frowning deeply. It had been bad enough before Fenton killed himself, but afterwards Matt was so remote it was almost impossible to reach him. He had become increasingly moody to the point where the children were beginning to avoid

him. Even Katie had to admit that she'd had about all of his surly attitude she could stand. She wondered if an end to the conflict with Fletcher would snap him out of this depression, if Tulane's leaving would bring him to his senses, then decided the problem lay much deeper in Matt's mind than that. It was deep within himself, something he had to deal with totally on his own. Until he did that, there was little anyone could do to help him. In the meantime, Katie admitted to herself that she was quickly losing respect for him. That scared her silly because as her respect for Matt decreased, her attraction to Tulane grew. When Matt reached for her now, she gave herself to him, but then lay awake for hours in the darkness, tossing and turning, her body craving the fulfillment it had only found in Tulane's arms. She glanced toward the corral where both men were nailing new rails into place. There was as much difference in them as day and night, she thought silently, but the differences went far beneath the surface. Even physically they were vastly different. Matt's body was heavily muscled with cords of strength encircling his wide shoulders and back. He was barrel-chested, his arms as big as tree limbs, but there was a clumsiness about him that was missing in Tulane. Both men were shirtless in the blazing July heat, their bare upper bodies emphasizing the contrasts. Matt's skin looked pale by comparison with Tulane's deep bronze tan. Though Tulane was slighter built than Matt, there was a surprising aura of power about him. It was an inner strength that Matt lacked. Watching them working side by side, Katie knew it was Tulane's remarkable self assurance that was the most noticeable point of difference. He possessed a quiet, under-stated confidence that was apparent without him even being aware of it, while Matt on the other hand, was rapidly losing not only his confidence, but his pride. Matt had not bathed, shaved, or changed clothes since Fenton Elwood's death. Daily he became more surly, by night more demanding of Katie's energy while Katie grew to wonder more than once why she bothered to care about the man he was becoming. If it was Matt's jealousy of Tulane that was driving him, she thought bitterly, she might have understood it better, but she was certain it was not jealousy that had turned him into a stranger. Rather, it was self-pity. The kind that gnawed at a person until they lost sight of what was truly important.

Katie stared at her husband's back and shook her head. No amount of talking had helped. She and Matt were farther apart now than they'd ever been and she saw no end in sight. It filled her with uneasiness for she was quickly losing patience with Matt as well as all respect for him. At least she felt no guilt, she told herself silently as she picked up another handful of peas while scolding the children for arguing at the same time. Her eyes widened with surprise at the thought for she had never really considered it before. Immediately after that night in the line shack she had been overwhelmed with guilt, vowing never to allow such a thing to happen again. Now, as time as went by, she realized the guilt had faded with the emergence of Matt's sullen, self-pitying disposition. In fact, she thought with a start, it was only Tulane's restraint that had prevented a repeat of that romantic evening they had shared during the storm. She knew, without him saying a word, that he had been as affected by that encounter as she, perhaps even more so, but nothing he had said since indicated that he intended to approach her again. She let out a ragged breath and forced her eyes away from his lean, bronzed body as he held a plank under one arm and nailed it into place with the other hand. Thank goodness one of them had some sense, she told herself sternly. The way things stood between herself and Matt right now, she could no longer trust herself or her judgment. A rumbling in the distance jerked her mind back to the present. She laid aside the pail of peas, lifting one hand to shield her eyes from the hazy afternoon sun, listening and watching the horizon. When it came, it was not what Katie expected. Part of her mind whispered a warning that the rising cloud of dust was caused by Justin Fletcher's raiders for they had struck with swift violence at Alfred Wilson's farm and Duncan's farm the two preceding days. To Katie's relief, the cloud of dust dissolved into orderly shapes riding two abreast in perfect formation as the riders neared the farm. "The army!" she cried excitedly, jumping to her feet and racing across the yard. "Matthew! The army! They've come!" Matt dropped the plank he had been nailing onto the corral and hurried across the barnyard to Katie's side and peer into the sun at the visitors. A smile lit his face for the first time in days as he slipped one arm around Katie's slender waist. Minutes later the column of soldiers rode into the yard. The officer in charge nudged his mount forward a few paces and politely tipped his hat to Katie. "Afternoon, ma'am," he said respectfully. "You'll be the

Wainwrights, I imagine." Matt and Katie nodded at the same time, but the soldier's eyes had lifted to a spot over their heads, fixing on Tulane's face as he slipped back into his shirt before walking toward the officer. "I'm Major Bingham," the officer went on, drawing his attention momentarily back to Matt. "Hello, Chris," he added while he extended his hand to Tulane. A slow, sincere smile curled Tulane's lips while he reached to take the soldier's hand in a firm handshake. "Lyle, it's been a long time. You haven't changed much, except for the rank." Lyle Bingham grinned with a glance at the oak leaves on the shoulder straps of the crisp blue uniform. "Can't say I haven't earned these, but having your own regiment is a lot of responsibility. You never told me about all the headaches that come with rank." Tulane did not comment. Instead, his sharp gaze had lifted to inspect the neat rows of soldiers behind Bingham. Amid the shuffle of weary horses and the tinkle of bridle bits and the familiar squeak of saddle leather, he counted a complete company of cavalry. Major Bingham's leathery features broke into a smile at the surprise on Tulane's face. "You said you needed all the help I could give you, Chris. I took you at your word. Think I brought enough men to do the job?" "You brought enough men to fight Apaches," Tulane replied dryly. "Well, it wasn't easy convincing ole Leatherbritches to give me a company of men and permission to come this far west on the basis of a telegram. I asked for more than I expected to get so I'd have some bargaining room." "How is the general?" Major Bingham removed the glove from one hand to twirl absently at the neatly trimmed, waxed ends of his handle-bar mustache. "Full of piss and vinegar," he answered with a grin. "He sends his regards to you, Chris, and instructed me to conduct a full investigation of this business with the rancher. And not a minute too soon, judging from the talk I heard in town. "I understand Fletcher's men have been raiding some of the farms, Mr. Wainwright?" he asked Matt. His manner had changed from friendly when talking to Tulane to crisp and professional as he began to discuss the problem with Matt. Matt quickly filled in the details of the situation while Major Bingham listened silently, nodding from time to time. Katie's eyes drifted to Tulane's handsome face as he stood beside the

cavalry horse, noting with surprise the odd mixture of bitterness and longing that filled him. She wondered if he was aware of how much he missed the army, then decided he wasn't, until now. Watching him, she tried to imagine how he'd looked in a uniform like the one Major Bingham wore, with its crisp blue material, the gold oak leaves gleaming in the sun from the epaulets on his shoulders, and the startling yellow stripes down the side of each trouser leg that disappeared into knee-high black leather boots. Smiling to herself, she decided she liked the way he looked now better. There was a distinct sensuality about him that she felt sure the uniform had kept hidden, but that was remarkably evident in the snug fitting denim trousers with the gunbelt strapped around his narrow waist, and the cotton shirt open enough at the throat to reveal the dark hair that covered his chest. Suddenly she felt his gaze on her. Looking up, she blushed to discover he was studying her thoughtfully. Only the heat in the depths of his eyes betrayed any emotion. She realized that Matt had stopped speaking. Wetting her lips quickly to cover her embarrassment, Katie turned her eyes to the soldier on the horse in front of her. "Major Bingham, won't you please come inside for some refreshment and ask your men to help themselves to the well," she said, indicating the stone well in the corner of the yard. "Thank you kindly, ma'am," Major Bingham replied with a smile as he twisted in the saddle to address his second-in-command. "Have the troops dismount, captain." The order to dismount bellowed from the weary captain's mouth and the troops were milling about the well watering their horses in short order. "I'd like your permission to bivouac my troops nearby, Mr. Wainwright," Major Bingham said to Matt as the men dismounted. "Perhaps a short distance behind your barn." "Of course, major," Matt agreed quickly. "Just make yourselves at home. If there's anything you need, just ask. Whatever I have is at your disposal." "I appreciate that, Mr. Wainwright. The first order of business is to get our camp set up and feed my men and animals. After that, it's my intention to send a patrol to each of the farms to stand guard until morning." "And then?" Matt questioned anxiously. Major Bingham's sun-bronzed face sobered as all traces of pleasantries left him. His icy blue eyes narrowed with determination as he

glanced at Tulane briefly. "Then tomorrow morning I'm paying a call on Mr. Fletcher to announce the suspension of his court order and try to work out some agreement for watering his cattle until my investigation is completed. Do you have any objections to that, Mr. Wainwright?" "None," Matt answered truthfully with a short shake of his head. "I've made offers like that in the past, Major, but Fletcher has always refused. He wants it all." "He'll listen to me," Major Bingham assured him with a curt nod. "For the first time, he's outmatched. I have orders to bring a peaceful solution to this problem and the sooner, the better." "It was certainly very kind of your commanding officer to send you so promptly," Katie said with a warm smile. "Especially in view of the trouble with the Sioux we keep hearing about," Matt agreed. "Well, it's the army's duty to keep the peace in the territory whether it be Indian trouble or the kind you folks are having. General Custer takes his responsibilities quite seriously," Major Bingham said proudly. "If Montana is ever going to be a state, things have to be peaceful. Who's gonna vote for statehood with bands of wild Indians running around and greedy ranchers running off good people?" "It's more than that," Katie suggested without thinking how strange it might sound. "General Custer simply took your word that we needed help." "No, ma'am," Major Bingham disagreed quietly with a sideways glance at the man at his side. "He took the word of a man he respected, of a man I've known for years." "Still we appreciate you coming so fast," Matt said gruffly, avoiding Tulane's gaze. "Mr. Wainwright, I owe Chris Tulane a lot, more than I can ever hope to repay," Major Bingham said firmly. His bright blue gaze locked with Matt's without faltering until Matt began to feel uneasy. "Whatever I know about being a soldier, about being an officer, Chris taught me. I thank my lucky stars every morning that I had someone like him to serve under in Arizona. He saved my life, Mr. Wainwright. He came into an Apache village, after I was stupid enough to get myself captured, and rescued me. All by himself, in the middle of the night with two hundred screaming Indians dancing around, just waiting to lift my hair. "Don't thank me, Mr. Wainwright. You don't owe me squat. I'm here because the best damned soldier I've ever known asked for my help. I'd have come even if General Custer turned down my request. He knew it too.

"So you see, Mr. Wainwright, I'm not the man you should thank. It's Chris; he's the man you owe, not me." For a moment after Major Bingham stopped speaking Matt was silent, then a black scowl spread over his face. There was a sharp edge to his voice when he finally spoke. "I understand, major, but I'll give my gratitude to you, if you don't mind. I'm indebted to Tulane all I care to be for one lifetime." He spun about on his heel and stomped back to the corral. Katie's face colored with embarrassment as she lifted a pleading gaze to Tulane. "I'm sorry, Christopher. Please forgive Matthew. He's been so worried, so upset since Fenton's death. He doesn't know what he's saying," she said in a hushed voice. "Oh, he knows, Katherine," Tulane contradicted with a glance at Matt's broad back as he began to nail planks onto the corral again. "He knows exactly what he's doing." Katie reached to touch his arm, her fingers gripping his flesh while her eyes pleaded with him. "Please, Christopher, please don't take offense. The children and I are very grateful for your help. Isn't that enough?" Tulane stared into her eyes in complete silence for a moment, then exhaled deeply and nodded. "Yes, Katherine, that's more than enough. After all, it's for you and the children that I'm doing this at all, isn't it?" Katie gave him a trembling smile while she blinked back tears of relief. Then turning to the soldier, she spoke more firmly. "Major, dinner is at seven. I'll be expecting you to join us." "Thank you, Mrs. Wainwright. I shall be delighted," Major Bingham replied with a sincere smile as Katie nodded, then hurried back to the house. Turning to Tulane, he said, "Chris, I'd like a word with you in private, if you don't mind." Tulane nodded. "Whatever you say, Major. You're in command." CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE "You know, Chris, this is the first time I've ever seen you out of uniform." Tulane turned from the opening of the army tent where he was standing, gazing out at the good natured camaraderie of the troops as they set up camp, to look at Major Bingham. "I suppose it is, but then I haven't seen you in nearly ten years." Lyle Bingham tossed his wide brimmed cavalry hat onto the narrow

cot that stood against one side of the tent. Running a hand through his crisp red hair, he indicated a spot next to him and grinned as Tulane ducked to walk beneath the tent poles on his way to take the seat. "You know how sorry we were to hear about Priscilla and the boys, Chris. Bloody heathens! Every damned Apache in the world ought to be rounded up and shot!" Tulane did not speak, but took the whiskey bottle Lyle offered and poured a liberal splash into a tin cup, drained it without taking a breath, then set it down. "Melinda sends her love, Chris. Says to make sure you come for a visit when this business is finished." "Thank her for me, Lyle, but I'm not very good company." Tulane rose to his feet, then moved back to the opening of the tent to watch the small sea of tents going up in the late afternoon light. Behind him, Lyle selected a long cigarette from a leather case inside his shirt and lit it, drawing on it silently for a few minutes while he studied Tulane's back. "Why did you do it, Chris?" he asked finally. "Do what?" "Leave the army, resign your commission. I can understand how you must have felt after Priscilla and the boys were killed, but the army was your home, Chris. "It was more than just a job to you. It was your life. How could you turn your back on it after all your hard work? God, I remember how hard it was for you to come back after the war. I know what hell you went through because you were a southerner trying to earn the respect of the men in your company. How could you just walk away from it so simply? I don't understand that." "It wasn't a simple matter, Lyle. It was just something I had to do," Tulane replied quietly without turning around. "To punish yourself for their deaths? That was it, wasn't it, Chris? They died, you were in the army so therefore it was the army's fault, and yours." Lyle's statement was softly spoken with an under current of concern that was lost on Tulane when he swung around in the tent's opening. "Drop it, Lyle! It's done and I don't want to talk about it," he snapped. Lyle shrugged, then refilled both cups with whiskey while he drew on the cigarette and blew smoke toward the top of the tent. "All right, Chris, whatever you say. I didn't mean to open up old wounds. I wouldn't have

mentioned it except that it's obvious that the wounds have never healed at all. You're still hurting and I'd like to help...if you'll let me." "There's nothing you can do, Lyle," Tulane said heavily as he dropped onto the cot beside his friend. "Nothing anybody can do, but I appreciate your concern." "Sometimes talking to an old friend will help." Tulane shook his head. His clear multi-colored eyes met Lyle's above the rim of the tin cup as he lifted it to his lips. "Talking won't change anything, Lyle. Besides," he added with a tight smile, "I didn't ask you to come out here to listen to my problems." "Just one more thing and then I'll drop the subject," Lyle said with a brief nod. "General Custer asked me to deliver a personal message to you, Chris." Tulane's eyes narrowed suspiciously but he did not speak, waiting instead for Lyle to finish his thought. "The general says he has room for a company commander at the fort. Says the Seventh always has room for a man with your experience. He also says if you ever decide to come back to the army, you better give him first crack at you." "Thank the general for me, Lyle, but tell him I'm not a soldier anymore. I haven't been for a long time. I can't see myself ever putting that uniform on again." "People change, Chris. You've changed since I saw you last...then you've been through hell. I'm just saying there may come a time when you'll feel differently about the army. And if you do, it's still there waiting. It still needs that special ability to lead men that very few men possess. That ability that made you the best damned commanding officer I ever served under. "Now, give me you views on this business with Justin Fletcher," he said crisply as he changed the subject. "You heard what Wainwright said," Tulane told him with a shrug. "I don't have anything to add." Lyle's bright blue eyes narrowed slightly at the deliberate indifference Tulane projected. "From what I gathered in town, Wainwright has good reason to owe you his life on more than one occasion. I hear you outgunned three of Fletcher's hired killers a few days back, got yourself shot." "So?" "So...for a man whose life you've saved not once but several times during the past few weeks, Matt Wainwright not only isn't grateful, he downright resents the hell out of you. Mind telling me why that is?"

Tulane paused in the process of lighting a thin brown cheroot to glance at Lyle's curious face, then shrugged as he touched a flaming match to the cigar. "Matt's found out something you and I learned years ago, Lyle," he grunted while grinding the smoking match into the dirt at his feet. "He's a proud man, always knew exactly what and who he was. Then he found himself looking into eternity one day not too long ago. He realized in those few fleeting seconds that some of his preconceived notions about himself were all wrong." A wry grin briefly crossed Lyle's face while he busied himself by refilling the cups again and sliding Tulane's closer. "There's nothing like looking down the business end of a gun to make a man take a long, hard look at himself," he agreed casually. "What happened? Did Wainwright find out he wasn't the man he thought he was?" Tulane nodded, but he paused to draw on the cheroot and exhale before replying. "Yeah, something like that. Of course, the fact that Jake Stoddard was holding the gun at the time probably had some bearing on his reaction. Jake has a way about him that makes most men back up and think seriously about dying." Lyle snorted in disgust as he tossed back his drink. "That bloody bastard! He's the only man I know that could teach the Apaches how to be barbarians." Tulane did not comment but sipped from the tin cup and smoked the cigar silently for a time. By now the evening sun was sinking behind the horizon. The air was filled with the familiar camp sounds that included the clanging of cooking pots and the smell of an open fire. "So Wainwright's a little upset to find out he's not as brave as he thought. That's all there is to it?" Lyle questioned mildly. "What makes you think there's more?" Lyle scratched his head, then twirled the ends of his mustache absently like he did when in thought. "Just a gut feeling that there's something a bit more personal in his hostility toward you than I've heard so far. Now, I'm no expert on human nature, Chris, but I've got me a feeling that Matt Wainwright not only dislikes you, he's afraid of you. Why...I couldn't say." Tulane did not care to enlighten his friend as to Matt's reasons, but the tightness that came into his face confirmed Lyle's suspicions. Whatever was going on between Tulane and the farmer had more to do with personal feelings than it did with Justin Fletcher's court order, Lyle thought as he

studied Tulane's deliberately mild expression in the twilight. He was about to ask another question when Tulane rose to his feet and moved toward the entrance of the tent. "You want me to go with you tomorrow when you tell Fletcher the news?" he asked as he held the tent flap open. "Yes, if you don't mind, Chris," Lyle agreed while he got to his feet. "I'd like your evaluation of his response when it's done. You know him better than I do. You'll be better able to tell if he's willing to abide by the injunction." Tulane's silver eyes sparkled in the fading light when he turned to gaze at his friend. "I can tell you right now, Lyle, that he won't. More importantly, that black-hearted sister of his won't. She's playing for all the cards and she plays dirty." "You mean "the screw anything that moves" Taryn Fletcher?" Lyle asked with a grin. Tulane gave a short scornful snort. "Taryn Fletcher looks like a goddess, rides and cusses like a man, and would do anything it takes to get what she wants. That includes murder." "Sounds like a very interesting young woman," Lyle said with a grin. "I can hardly wait to meet her." "Don't be so anxious. Although, once you meet Taryn you aren't likely to forget her," Tulane warned him dryly. Leaving the tent, he had gone a few steps into the barnyard when Lyle's cheerful voice called after him. "Chris, think about the general's offer, won't you? We could have some great times again...like we used to." Tulane turned in the gathering twilight with his thumbs hooked in the wide gunbelt, to observe Lyle fondly, then shook his head. "There's nothing to think about, Lyle. That part of my life is past. I want to forget it." "And do what? Hire yourself out to the highest bidder until some low-life like Jake Stoddard gets lucky? That's not you, Chris. You've got more brains than that, too much to gain by getting out of this business." Tulane's gaze flashed to the farmhouse where the tinkling of the piano told him Dane was practicing his scales. Through the open kitchen window he could see Katie peeling potatoes for supper. He saw her reach up to brush back a stray lock of beige hair, then forced his eyes back to Lyle's waiting face. "Sorry, Lyle, but the only thing important enough to make me give up this kind of life isn't mine to gain. It already belongs to someone else, and frankly, it's probably just as well. Goodnight, Lyle. I'll be in the barn if you need anything. Just call me. Otherwise I'll see you in the morning."

He strode away into the barn, leaving Lyle to scratch his head and wonder what he'd meant. Justin Fletcher appeared nonchalant when the column of cavalry rode into the ranch yard the following morning. He stood on the porch of the ranch house shaded by the verandah, smoking a thin cigar as the soldiers halted inside the gate. It was obvious from one sweeping glance at his blue-clad visitors that they were prepared to deal with whatever resistance they found for they formed a semi-circle in the ranch yard, effectively cutting the bunkhouse off from the main house. Though their guns were not drawn, they were clearly ready to put down any rebellion with whatever force was necessary. "Mr. Fletcher!" the commander of the detachment called. "I'm Justin Fletcher," Justin replied calmly. He did not move nor extend any other greeting, but waited in cold silence for the soldier to state his business. "Major Bingham, Seventh Cavalry from Fort Lincoln," Lyle said in introduction. "You're a long way from home, major," Justin drawled casually as he struck a match to light the cold cigar. "Lost?" "No sir. We're exactly where we're supposed to be," Lyle replied in the same cool tone. "I have a document for you, Mr. Fletcher." Lyle made a quick motion and a soldier behind him took the folded paper and rode forward to hand it to Justin, then retook his position. Justin glanced at the document briefly, then lifted his carefully controlled face to Lyle as Taryn appeared at his side to take the paper. "By whose authority do you serve this restraining order?" Justin demanded. "By authority of General George Armstrong Custer and the United States Army." "The army has no authority in civil matters. You can't overturn a court order for no reason!" A dry smile touched Lyle's lips at the belligerence in Justin's voice for he knew a bluff when he heard one. "The army has authority over all civil courts when it believes an injustice has been done, Mr. Fletcher. However, if you will look at that restraining order more closely you'll see that it's been signed by the territorial governor of Montana as well. "Simply stated, that order prohibits you from any further action against the farmers in the bend of Box Elder and Musselshell creeks until

I've had time to conduct a full investigation into this matter." "What matter are you referring to, major?" Taryn demanded. Lyle's eyes flashed to her, widening just a bit in surprise at her beauty. Recovering, he glanced at Tulane's amused face at his side. "The matter of how Mr. Fletcher persuaded a circuit court judge to overthrow the deeds of a half dozen families and revert the land to him." "Are you saying there was something illegal about my court order?" Justin asked defensively. "That's not for me to say at this point, Mr. Fletcher," Lyle countered. "There's been an accusation made and it's my duty to investigate the matter." "Oh, I'm sure you'll conduct an impartial investigation all right...with Matt Wainwright's hired watchdog at your side the whole time," Taryn spat out contemptuously with a heated glance at Tulane. "Don't be mislead by my past association with Tulane," Lyle contradicted as his eyes narrowed in warning. "My investigation will be a fair one, Miss Fletcher, for both sides." "What are all these soldiers for then?" Justin snapped with a sweeping gesture at the yard full of cavalry. "Moral support?" "My company is here to insure there will be no violence from either side until my investigation is completed. And to supervise the orderly watering of your cattle in the interim." "Am I supposed to be grateful?" Justin snapped. "Am I supposed to thank you for allowing my cattle to water at my own river? Let me tell you something, Major. That is my land! I don't give a damn about your investigation. I'll water my cattle when and where I choose and no toy soldier is going to tell me different!" "I wouldn't advise that, Mr. Fletcher. My men have been deployed to guard every farm in the valley. Any act of violence on your part will be met with force. I'd keep that in mind, if I were you." "You think fifty soldiers can keep me off my land?" "I think fifty battle seasoned troops can make a considerable dent in your forces, Mr. Fletcher. I assure you, we did not come unprepared. We have enough provisions to last as long as necessary and that includes arms and ammunition. Plus a Gattling gun capable of three hundred fifty rounds per minute. "I'd give some serious thought about going up against a weapon like that. And any act of aggression against my troops will be considered an act of war against the US Army and will be dealt with accordingly. Good day, sir."

Without giving Justin a chance to comment further, Lyle whirled his horse and gave the order to leave the ranch. As they cleared the arched sign bearing the Circle F insignia, he turned in the saddle to look at Tulane. "Well, Chris, what do you think? Will he abide by my orders?" "For as long as it takes him to come up with a plan of some kind to outsmart you," Tulane replied with a tight smile. "After I spelled it out plain as day for him, you think he'll continue harassing the farmers?" Tulane reached up to pull his hat down lower to protect his face against the blowing sand that a brisk wind had stirred. Nodding shortly, he glanced at Lyle again. "Just as soon as he figures a way." "I just don't understand," Lyle said as he pulled his uniform collar tightly closed against the wind. "He's got nothing to lose, Lyle," Tulane explained over the wind's howl. "He knows you're going to find out he bribed a judge and that will overturn his court order to evict the farmers. Plus, his cows are thirsty now. He can't wait for an investigation, even if it should turn out in his favor. He's got to move, and quickly." Lyle sighed and shook his head wearily. "Then I'd better alert my troops, double the guard maybe." He was silent for a moment, then scratched his head in thought. "I didn't see Jake Stoddard back there, did you?" "No, but I felt him. He was there, Lyle, just staying out of sight and sizing us up." A thin smile brightened Lyle's ruddy face as a short chuckle rippled from his throat. "The one bright spot in all this is that before it's finished I fully intend to rid the world of Jake Stoddard, if there's any way possible." "Don't worry, Lyle. If I know Jake, you'll get your chance." Justin stood on the front porch clinching his fists in fury as the long blue column rode beneath the arched sign. His face colored with anger, his mouth worked soundlessly as the veins in his neck stood out like cords of rope. "What the bloody hell do we do now?" he growled when he finally recovered his voice. "Take it easy, Justin," came Jake Stoddard's friendly voice at the edge of the porch. "No need to give yourself apoplexy." Justin watched the hired killer walk up the steps with a smile that was so cold it made Justin's flesh crawl. "You heard what the soldier said. He's

got enough fire power to wipe us right off the map." "And he's not afraid to use it," Jake agreed with a mild nod. "Bingham's sharp, real sharp. Oughta be; he had a damned good teacher." He made no effort to explain that remark in spite of the way Justin's brows arched curiously. "The best way to beat him is to hit them first, and hard," Jake went on. "With what, for God's sake? We don't have the manpower to launch a war with the US Army!" "Will you shut up, Justin!" Taryn hissed. "You couldn't defeat an army of ants with your attitude. Let Jake talk." Jake grinned at the fury that flooded Justin's face while he and Taryn stood eye to eye, glaring at one another for a long moment. "You don't need men for what I've got in mind, Justin. You've got something better." "Like what?" Justin asked in amazement. "Like five thousand head of thirsty cattle. Take my word for it, Justin. When those cows smell water it'll take a lot more than a few soldiers and a barbed wire fence to hold them back." Slowly a smile replaced the despair in Justin's handsome face. While he thought over Jake's idea, he reached into his vest to produce the gold cigar case, took one for himself, then offered one to Jake. "That's an excellent idea, Jake, but it's only a temporary solution," he pointed out while lighting Jake's cigar, then his own. "True, true," Jake agreed. "But by the time those cows get through plowing up those clod-hoppers wheat, there won't be enough left to make one loaf of bread. It just might be enough to send them all packing for good." "That calls for a drink, Jake. Let's go into my office and have one," Justin invited with a beaming smile. They walked toward the front door when suddenly Justin noticed his sister was not with them. Turning, he saw her still standing at the edge of the porch staring at the cloud of dust on the horizon that signaled the troopers position. "Coming, Taryn?" "I didn't realize I was invited," she said insolently. Justin motioned for Jake to go into the house without him, then retraced his steps to Taryn's side. While she stood pointedly ignoring him, he surprised her by slipping one arm around her slender shoulders. "What's bothering you, Taryn?"

"I was just thinking that the only way we're going to survive is to kill them, Justin. Wainwright, that soldier, and Tulane. We've tried everything else, nothing's worked. They're leaving us no other choice," she said thoughtfully. "So?" She turned, lifting her head to focus those coal black eyes on his face as she slowly shook her head. "So, Justin, I don't think you have the guts for it. I should've been a man, Justin. I'm the one will all the nerve in this family, not you." Justin stared down into her beautiful face with its glittering ebony eyes and nodded after a moment. "You're probably right, Taryn. It takes a special quality to be able to kill without remorse and you, my own dear sister, possess more of that particular quality than anyone I've ever known." "I'm a winner, Justin," Taryn reminded him while lifting one hand to trace lightly over his lips. "And because I'm a winner, so are you. You'll see, Justin. We'll emerge victorious in the end. You and me, Justin, like always." CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Tulane leaned his elbows on the top rail of the corral, staring at the endless rows of spring wheat that stretched toward the horizon. He could barely see Matt's bright red shirt among the six foot high stalks of wheat as he plowed the fields with half of his workhorse team. Dane was a few yards over with the other horse plowing another section, but Tulane could not see the boy for the reddish wheat stalks hanging over the rows. The crop was almost ready for harvesting. Only another couple of weeks until harvest would begin and with it, Matt's first bumper crop. In spite of himself, Tulane admired the man's green thumb. Matt had a way with the earth that was obviously going to pay off for him soon. A giggle from inside the barn turned Tulane's attention in that direction. Clouds of dust flew from inside as Katie's broom briskly swept the place clean. Smaller, more sporadic dust clouds told him where Glenna was sweeping. Her childish giggles made him smile as he listened to Katie tell her about all the plans for the celebration party that was going to be held in the barn that night. Tulane turned back to the black stallion tied to the corral, brushing the animal's sleek coat in brisk, even strokes until he gleamed in the

afternoon sun. Delicious smells came from the house where Mary Alice McGee was busy cooking for the party. She had arrived early in the morning with a wagon load of pots, pans, and food. Duncan and the children would soon follow. Tulane was not aware that Katie had left her sweeping until she spoke at his shoulder. "Christopher? Something's on your mind. Want to tell me what it is?" Tulane shook his head and kept brushing the stallion without looking around. "You think the idea of a party is foolish, don't you?" "I don't think it's foolish, Katherine. Premature, maybe." "Just a bit perhaps," Katie agreed with a smile. "On the other hand, this restraining order is the first bit of good news we've had in so long I think it deserves to be celebrated. We all need some fun in our lives. It's been so long since there's been anything to smile about. It will do everyone a world of good." Tulane did not reply, but kept brushing the horse methodically without looking at her. After a few silent moments had passed Katie put out a hesitant hand to touch his shoulder. "Your friend, the major, is very concerned about you, Christopher." "Oh really? Have you and Lyle been discussing me?" "Only briefly," she answered quickly, wishing he would look at her so she would have a better idea of his state of mind. "And only because we're both concerned." "You needn't be. And Lyle's got no business worrying you with his idiotic conclusions." "I don't want you to go, Christopher," she said softly as her fingers tightened on his arm. Tulane's head snapped up, his gaze locking with Katie's as he realized what she'd said. "What?" "You're planning to leave, aren't you?" Katie returned in that same quiet, understated tone that made Tulane's nerves tingle. "That's why you've been so quiet the past couple of days. Isn't it?" "Why ask me? You already know everything, don't you?" he asked curtly. Still, he did not move away from her gentle hand on his arm, but stood very still, watching her closely, storing every detail of her face for some future reference. "Please, Christopher. Don't tease about my ability. Were you

planning to say good-bye or just ride away in the middle of the night without a word?" "I'm not very good at saying good-bye." "Then don't say it," Katie said urgently as she moved a step closer. "Don't go, Christopher. Stay here." "My job's done here," he contradicted with a curt shake of his head. "You said yourself it isn't over," Katie pointed out quickly. "There will be more trouble before it's finally settled. You said it and Major Bingham said it too." "The army can do a much better job of protecting you than I can. You don't need me, Katherine, not anymore." Katie's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip began to tremble as her fingers clenched tighter in his shirt. She stood looking up at him in awkward silence for a moment while debating how much to reveal, then made up her mind and swallowed. "I need you, Christopher, more now than ever before." It was a struggle to maintain contact with his sharp eyes, especially when they filled with warmth. "The children need you, Matthew needs you, and I need you. Please don't leave us." "Matt hates my guts," Tulane said with a ragged breath as he glanced toward the wheat field. "Without even knowing how much reason I've given him." Katie's gaze held with his as just a hint of color darkened her cheeks. "Matthew resents your strength, Christopher, and your courage. If you leave us, we'll have no one to depend on, Christopher. No one. I don't know what we'll do if you leave now." "That's why I've got to leave, Katherine. I can't stay here any longer." "Because of me?" she asked softly. She ached to throw herself into his arms, to feel the wild beating of his heart against her own, to know the thrill of his lips again. "I've never been a very noble man, Katherine," he said in a voice that had dropped to a husky, ragged level. He dropped the brush and now both hands gripped her arms just above the elbows while his dark silver eyes held her gaze prisoner. "I've spent the last night I can tolerate lying awake on my bunk in there knowing Matt was making love to you. It's insane, I know that. You're his wife. You belong to him. I've got no right to feel the way I do, no right to want you like I do." "Then don't go," Katie whispered breathlessly while she stared up into his handsome, intense face.

"I have to. I won't be responsible for what happens if I stay on. I've been honorable toward the promise we made each other as long as I can. I can't promise to remember that vow one more second. That's why I have to go, now." Katie forced a smile to her shaky lips as she lifted both hands to cradle his face between them. "You also promised never to leave me until I no longer needed you, Christopher. I still need you. You have no idea how desperately I need you. "I need your strength, Christopher, and your kindness, and your understanding. All the things that Matthew has forgotten so completely. Please don't leave me. I don't think I can bear it if you do." Her voice broke as bitter tears began to stream down her cheeks. Her hands dropped from his face to his shoulders, then slipped around his neck as Tulane pulled her into his arms. He buried his face in her hair, breathed in the sweet scent that belonged to her alone, and held her close. For a length of time neither or them spoke. Instead they clung to each other in silent desperation that needed no words. Katie's sobs stopped, became soft whimpers that were muffled against his chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck while his arms encircled her slender body so securely she could hardly breathe. "All right, Katherine," she heard him whisper hoarsely through her tears. "Goddamnit, I'll stay. We're both crazy. You know that, don't you?" Katie nodded, unable to speak for the enormous surge of relief in her throat. She felt his hands slide up her arms to disentangle her from him, then hold her out in front of him. The desire that blazed from his eyes made her weak, warm all over, made it difficult to catch her breath. "Tell me something, gypsy lady," he said with a teasing grin that made her heart turn over in her chest. "Look into the future and tell me how this is all going to end." "I can't see that, Christopher," she said in a trembling voice. "I can only see that we need each other...that all our lives are still in your hands." "No bloody confrontations with your jealous husband?" "No, Christopher," Katie answered. As she swallowed, the sorrow that filled her eyes made Tulane pull her back into his embrace and hold her tightly. "Matt will never confront you because he doesn't want to know. He's afraid of you, Christopher. He's afraid you'll kill him. My husband is a coward. He'll not question you." "I'm sorry, Katherine." "So am I," Katie replied sadly.

There was a noisy cough from the barn that made Tulane release Katie and look around. Mary Alice McGee stood a few feet away, smiling as she pointed to the wagon lumbering up the lane toward the farm. "I hate to interrupt," she said, still smiling. "but I don't think my husband would be as understanding as I am." Tulane grinned slightly and picked up the brush as Katie sped off to the barn to finish the sweeping. Matt returned to the house a short time later, but while he noticed Katie's red eyes and watery smile, he said nothing. What could he say, he thought idly to himself as he poured himself and Duncan McGee a drink before the other guests arrived. He had used Tulane's feelings for Katie to get him to stay on. How could he be angry now when he'd practically thrown his wife into the gunman's arms? Too damn bad, Matt thought silently while he refilled the glasses. There had been a time when he'd have called the bloody bastard out for what he'd seen from the wheat field, but that time was long past. Calling Tulane out for any reason would only result in getting himself killed, Matt reasoned as he tossed back the drink and hurriedly poured another. Funny, there didn't seem to be anything important enough to get himself killed over anymore. Not this damned farm, not Katie, not anything. He'd looked down the barrel of one man's deadly gun; that had been more than enough. He'd never put himself in that position again. Not for anything. If that meant letting his wife cry on Tulane's shoulder about all his shortcomings, then so be it. He'd invited disaster when he begged Tulane to stay and used his feelings for Katie as a tool to persuade him. If the gunman took the invitation to heart, then so be that too, he told himself as he poured another drink. To hell with all of them. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Katie's face was flushed with excitement hours later when she excused herself from dancing to step outside the barn for a breath of fresh air. She looked up toward a sky filled with twinkling stars and almost giggled aloud. The party was a splendid success, she thought happily. The band from town had kept people dancing for hours. Who would have thought so many of the townspeople would have accepted the invitation to join in the

celebration? The fact that so many of them had come to partake of the festivities spoke plainly of their wish for an end to the trouble plaguing the valley. Only two things were noticeably absent from the party; the soldiers who were on guard duty at the farms, and Tulane. Katie glanced over her shoulder once more, smiling at the reel the people were dancing to with such enthusiasm, but Tulane was nowhere in sight. "Wonder where he is?" Mary Alice asked quietly as she appeared at Katie's side. Even dressed in her Sunday best Mary Alice still reminded one of a comfortable but rumpled bathrobe, Katie thought affectionately. "I don't know exactly. But the way Matthew's drinking, perhaps it's just as well." "He certainly has been putting it away," Mary Alice agreed with a sharp glance toward the makeshift bar where most of the men had gathered. A similar table was positioned nearer the barn door, but it contained two large punch bowls with bright red punch. Those who had a stronger thirst gathered around the second, smaller table to help themselves to stronger spirits. Katie's concerned gaze focused on Matt's red, disoriented face as he leaned against the tall barn stud for support. He had been drinking steadily all afternoon so that by now he was very drunk and weaving on his feet. "What's with him, Katie?" Mary Alice asked. "I've never known Matt to drink like this before." "The Matthew I married would never behave like this," Katie admitted sadly. "But the Matthew you see now is not the same man. I hardly know him at all anymore. I'm not even sure I want to know him. He's a stranger to me." Mary Alice decided not to ask anymore questions. Instead she nudged Katie's arm to draw her attention to the man who had just entered the barn from the opposite end from where they stood. "Now will you look at that?" Mary Alice said in a low, throaty voice. "Isn't he something to behold? Makes me glad I wore my best dress. You never know, he may decide to ask me for a dance. He does dance, doesn't he?" Katie nodded, but her voice had escaped her for the moment. Her gaze was glued to Tulane as he made his way through the dancing couples toward the bar where the unoccupied men waited. It was the first time Katie had ever seen him really dressed up but it was well worth waiting for. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit with a

matching silk vest, complete with a white ruffled shirt and a black string tie. His boots were so polished they reflected the light from the lanterns strung about the barns cavernous interior. Even the familiar gunbelt that rested on his hip could not detract from the casual elegance he projected as he moved among the people. His dark mahogany hair was neatly combed and there was a sparkle in his clear mosaic eyes that Katie could see even across the room. He was clean shaven, freshly bathed, and she could imagine the crisp masculine scent of him. It made her heart race, her blood pound furiously in her ears. Made her anxious to be near him, to catch the subtle masculine fragrance of him. Then remembering her surroundings, she glanced toward Matt. The liquor made his usually friendly face red with anger. Yet, while she stared at him, the anger faded into despair. He looked from her to Tulane and back again, then poured himself another drink and tossed it back in an effort to blot out the disappointment he had seen in her eyes. Katie had little time to observe Tulane until the end of the party for she had hostess duties to concern herself with. She went about those duties automatically with a smile in place on her face while her emotions were churning with frustration for Tulane did not approach her or ask her to dance. In fact, he did not dance at all, but remained with the men around the bar talking and having an occasional drink. It was only when the band leader announced the last dance that Katie suddenly realized he was at her side. "You did save the last dance for me, didn't you?" he asked after an exaggerated bow. Katie blushed in spite of herself but hesitated taking his arm to glance at Matt. "I suppose I really should save it for Matthew," she said uneasily. "I wouldn't worry about that, Katherine. He's been pouring whiskey down all night like water. I'm surprised he can still stand up. I don't think dancing has crossed his mind." "In that case," Katie said stoutly with a smile. "I shall be honored, Christopher. I know you dance very well." "Another thing my grandmother insisted on," he replied with a warm smile as the band began a lovely waltz. Katie's hand felt small and cold when he took it to pull her into his arms, moving her with expert skill around the room.

"Don't forget all those officer's parties in the army." "Yes, those too," he agreed. "It's been quite a long time but I don't think I've forgotten entirely." "You haven't forgotten at all. You're a marvelous dancer, Christopher. In fact, I've yet to see you fail at anything. You can ride, and shoot, and dance, as well as play the piano like a master. As well as other attributes that I don't dare mention here," Katie said with a mischievous grin. Tulane laughed, a low throaty sound that jangled Katie's nerves, made her palms sweat. "I'm a real prince all right," he said with a touch of sarcasm. Then his tone softened as his eyes warmed while they skimmed over Katie. "You're very beautiful, Katherine. Your hair looks nice all pinned up like this but I like it better loose and flowing around your face. Like that night in front of the fireplace. Remember?" Katie blushed but managed to nod. "Was I wrong to persuade you to stay, Christopher?" "Yes. Right now it's all I can do not to pick you up and take you to my bed. I'm not made of iron, Katherine. I'm flesh and blood and every fiber of me wants to make love to you. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep my distance." Katie resisted the urge to touch his cheek but the emotion in her eyes touched him, warmed him with its tenderness. "Would it make it any easier to know I feel the same way? That I want the same things? That I lie awake after Matthew and I...well...I lie awake at night reliving that night in the line shack over and over? "But I can't, Christopher, no matter how much I want you," she went on earnestly, searching his face for understanding. "I can't forsake my vows regardless of how Matthew has disappointed me. I'm his wife, I owe him fidelity. I'm sorry if I've made things hard for you. That was never my intention. I need your understanding and your strength." "You're asking a lot, Katherine," Tulane replied gruffly. "Maybe more than I can give you." "But you will try, won't you, Christopher?" "I'll try to do anything you ask of me, Katherine," he agreed with a sigh. Then his eyes began to twinkle as he pulled her closer. "And as for making things hard for me? If this blasted dance doesn't end soon everybody here will know just how hard you're making it," he told her with an impish grin.

Katie blushed to the roots of her hair as her body came in contact with his. "Oh my!" she whispered in embarrassment. "What are we going to do?" "Dance toward the door so when the band stops I can slip outside before anyone notices," Tulane suggested, still smiling cheerfully. Katie giggled with a nod of agreement. Just as they neared the open doorway the music stopped. Tulane stepped away from her into the darkness, but paused to throw her a kiss before disappearing into the night. It was well past two a.m. when Katie finally prepared for bed. The barn was still a mess but it could wait until morning for she was just too tired to clean up the mess at this late hour. She resolutely brushed her long hair in front of the vanity mirror while keeping a watchful eye on Matt in the reflective oval glass. She had changed into her nightgown already, a soft pale green garment that turned her deep blue eyes a lighter shade and made the fair texture of her skin almost translucent in the dim light from the pair of candles on the matching night tables on either side of the bed. Matt sat on the edge of the double bed trying to untie his shoe laces, then cursing under his breath when his stiff fingers would not obey. Katie rose swiftly from her perch before the vanity and dropped to her knees before him, beginning to loosen the laces silently. She gasped in surprise when Matt abruptly leaned down to cup each breast in one of his massive hands. She attempted to pull away, but Matt was determined. He fondled her breasts greedily, reaching inside the gown to touch her bare flesh, teasing the dark pink nipples until they rose in erect peaks. He pulled Katie to her feet, rising beside her, and dropped his head to nuzzle hungrily at her breasts. Katie's eyes closed as her hands clenched into fists when his hot drunken breath burned her skin, made her want to gag with disgust at his condition. "No, Matthew," she pleaded in a hushed tone. "Please not like this. Not tonight." Matt's bleary eyes gradually focused on her pale face. His lips formed a sneer while he weaved unsteadily on his feet. "I suppose you'd rather have that bloody gunman's hands on you. Is that it?" he accused harshly. "That's not fair, Matthew! It's your drunkenness I object to! Tulane has nothing to do with it!"

"I think he has everything to do with it," Matt sneered, his voice so slurred with whiskey Katie had to strain to understand the words. "You want him, don't you? You want to sleep with him, don't you? Come on, Katie girl, admit it. You know he wants you and I know he wants you. "Well, go on then!" he added as he pushed Katie toward the doorway. "Go on, damn you! You want him...go to him! He's waiting for you, Katie girl. Go on! Go to him! Make love to him! That's what you want!" "Matthew, please! You don't know what you're saying!" Katie protested with pleading eyes that were beginning to fill with tears. "I know all right, Katie girl. I know how he feels about you and I used those feelings when he wanted to leave. Used 'em to make him stay. You see, I know Tulane's in love with you, Katie girl. Just like I know the only reason he's still around is because of you...and the kids maybe. But without him...I'm a dead man, Katie...can you understand that? So I got no right to keep you away from him. See? "So go on, go to him, You want him. I saw that tonight when you were dancing with him. You looked at him in a way you've never looked at me...not ever. What are you waiting for? Go to him!" Katie stared into his drunken self-pitying face for one long moment. What she saw both disgusted her and scared her. The man who stood before her was a total stranger. Someone she despised. With as much dignity as she could muster, she pulled her robe closer around herself and turned on her heel to walk swiftly from the room. Her steps became faster and faster until she was running by the time she flung open the front door and ran from the house. Matt stared after her as she flew across the yard between the house and the barn, watching until she disappeared into the open barn door. Then he sank down onto the bed, covered his face with both giant hands, and began to cry. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Tulane's head snapped up when he heard the yard gate bang shut, then the footsteps running toward the barn. Instinct made him draw his pistol as he moved silently through the darkened barn, but he dropped it back into the holster when he saw Katie running toward him, her arms outstretched. The moonlit sky made it easy to see the tears streaming down her face as she got closer. He stepped into the open to meet her as she hurled herself

into his arms, burying her face against his chest as her arms went around him tightly. "Katherine? What the hell.." "Please hold me, Christopher," Katie whispered against the comforting thumping of his heart. "Please, just hold me." "Katherine, what happened? Has he hurt you?" "No, Christopher, at least not the way you mean. I want to be with you. Please let me stay." Tulane's brows arched in surprise at the plea in her voice and the frantic way she was clinging to him. He lifted his head from her hair and gently disentangled her arms by holding her out in front of him. His face tightened at the sight of her pale, tear stained features and the shame that made her look away from his piercing eyes. "Come inside, Katherine," he said almost as an afterthought. Katie leaned against him, suddenly so shaky she could not trust her own legs to support her. His arm around her waist felt like the only secure thing in a world suddenly tilting out of control as he led her through the barn into the room near the back where he had been sleeping the past few weeks. Tulane sat her down on the edge of the hard narrow bunk, then moved to turn up the lamp burning on the old scarred dresser that sat against the outer wall. While Katie tried to regain control of her shattered emotions, he poured a small glass of whiskey and handed it to her. "Drink this, Katherine," he instructed, nodding with approval when she swallowed the fiery liquid and coughed. "Now tell me what this is all about." Katie shook her head and drew a long, shuddering breath, still unable to meet his eyes squarely. "Matthew's drunk, very drunk. He...he said some awful things...I just couldn't stay another minute, couldn't bear the thoughts of him...well…you know," she finished lamely. "Yeah, I can guess," Tulane said in a tight voice. Katie lifted ashamed eyes, surprised to see the anger that crowded his face and turned his eyes almost emerald green. She lifted a trembling hand to brush back the long silky strands of hair that fell about her shoulders, then nervously plucked at the lace on the long nightgown. "Has this been happening a lot?" Katie was not fooled by the soft, calm quality of his voice for she knew he was not the least bit calm about Matt's recent behavior. "If you mean has he been drinking, the answer is yes. Every night for the past few weeks, ever since Fenton's death. And when he drinks, he wants to...well,

but I just couldn't tonight. He's even more drunk than usual...more demanding tonight," she stammered. "Did he hurt you?" She shook her head. "Did he force you, Katherine?" "No," Katie denied, then took a deep breath as she lifted her gaze to his at last. "He told me to come to you. He said he had made some kind of deal with you, some kind of trade in order to get you to stay. Is that true, Christopher?" "No, Katherine." He ran one hand through his hair with a sigh. "Maybe in his mind he did. Maybe he's compromised himself so completely that he believes you're my payoff for staying. But I never agreed to anything like that. He asked me to stay on for your sake because he knew how I feel about you, but that's all." "That's enough, isn't it?" Katie asked in a hushed voice. "He knew you had feelings for me but he asked you to stay on in spite of that, in spite of what might happen. No wonder he shoved me out the door and told me to come to you. I hate him for that! I'll never forgive him for being so weak!" "You couldn't hate him anymore than he hates himself. That's why he's drinking and acting so strangely," Tulane pointed out, a little surprised at himself for seeing Matt's point of view. When Katie did not speak for a few moments he leaned back against the dresser and hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt while he studied her quiet face. "So you came out here because he sent you?" His voice contained a barely concealed challenge that brought Katie's head up with a snap. "I came to you because I want to be with you. Because I need you, Christopher. I need you to hold me. " "Two hours ago you told me you couldn't be unfaithful." "Two hours ago I didn't know my husband was willing to trade my honor for his life." "I won't make love to you, Katherine, to help you get even with Matt." Katie stared at him silently for a moment while she studied the determination that made his eyes gleam. He had shed the handsome vest and jacket and the tie hung loosely around his neck. The ruffled white shirt was unbuttoned almost to his waist for she had surprised him in the midst of going to bed. Her blood began to tingle with excitement just looking at him.

Strange, she thought absently, Christopher Tulane was without a doubt the most dangerous man she had ever encountered. He could kill without remorse, but he could also turn her weak with desire with a glance from across a room. Without a word she rose on shaky legs to close the door to his room and slide the bolt into place. Turning, she retraced her steps until she stood before him. Slowly, deliberately, she removed the robe while her gaze remained locked with his. There was no mistaking the fire that leaped into his eyes when she pushed the gown off her shoulders, letting it fall in graceful folds at her feet. "It's time I was honest with myself," she said in a very soft voice. "I'm glad Matthew acted so crudely tonight because it gave me the excuse I needed to come here. I've spent so many nights lying awake wishing I had the courage to cross the yard and come to you. Now I'm here, Christopher, and I want nothing more in the world than for you to make love to me." When she finished speaking she lifted her arms to him. He crossed the narrow space with one stride to sweep her into his arms. Katie's arms slipped around his neck, her fingers entwining in his hair as she lifted her face to him, offering him her lips. Tulane kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her face, then finally her lips. Gently at first, then deeper, more passionately as she slid her hands down his chest to finish unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers slid through the crisp curly hair on his chest, then moved upward to push the shirt off his shoulders. She struggled with the buckle of the heavy gunbelt, whimpering with frustration when the double rows of teeth refused to give way. Then Tulane reached down to loosen it and untied the leather cord that held the weapon secured to his thigh. The gunbelt dropped to the floor with a thud but Katie was too busy removing the rest of his clothing to notice. She chafed with impatience at the seconds it took for him to pull off his boots, despising each instant she was out of his arms. Tulane gently laid her back onto the narrow cot, still kissing her as they urgently began an exploration of one another's body. Katie's desire was so intense, her need so urgent that she could wait no longer. She pulled him onto her trembling body, then forgot everything outside that tiny room when their flesh melted into one unit. Katie forgot her husband's drunken weakness, forgot her children, forgot the vow she'd made never to let this happen again. Forgot everything

except the blinding passion this man alone brought to life within her. Her senses had become instruments of delight, her bones seemed to smolder inside her flesh as her hungry body matched his thrust for thrust until her back arched upward sharply against his, her nails stabbing into his back when she reached that elusive pinnacle of blissful oblivion that swept her away. The cot groaned as his weight lifted from her. Her eyes flew open to search for him, then she smiled to see him stretching out beside her. With a contented sigh she moved into his arms again with her face pressed into the hollow of his shoulder. "No regrets?" Tulane asked her quietly. Katie lifted her tumbled head to look at him. Her lips curled back from her teeth in a smile as she shook her head. "No, Christopher, no regrets. It must be true what they say; the more often you do something you know is wrong, the easier it gets." He watched her closely as though trying to determine her true feelings, but all he saw was a peaceful smile that radiated from her face to light her eyes with a soft glow. "You know if Matt were to walk through that door and kill us both right now he'd completely within his rights." "But he won't," Katie replied quietly. "Because in spite of all his words, he doesn't want to know about this. He can live with his own fears and weaknesses, even live with mine, as long as he doesn't have to confront it head on." "What happens someday, Katherine, when this is all settled, when I'm gone, and he finally comes to grips with himself? He'll ask you then what there was between us. What will you tell him?" Katie reached out one hand to gently caress his cheek, feeling the muscles contract beneath her fingertips when he pulled his head back and kissed the palm of her hand. "I'll tell him the truth, Christopher. That you were a good friend to me when I needed one most. When he let me down, when he hurt me with his self-pity and carelessness, you made me feel good about myself. You made me feel safe and secure when my world was crumbling around me. You made me feel like a woman when he only made me feel like a convenience. "I won't apologize to him, Christopher, for what I have shared with you. For perhaps the only time in my life, I know what it's like to be treated with gentleness and respect and consideration. I know what true desire and

true fulfillment means and that's something Matthew hasn't shown me in twelve years of marriage. It's he who should apologize to me for having cheated me all these years." "It's awfully late, Katherine," Tulane said after a moment of silence while he studied the warmth and honesty in her face as their gazes locked with an unspoken message neither of them was willing to voice. "You'd best go back to the house." Katie raised up on one elbow. Her long hair brushed his skin enticingly, her eyes glowed with desire as she leaned forward to kiss him. "Not just yet, Christopher," she whispered as she pushed him onto the narrow bunk. "In a little while." Her lips brushed his skin with soft, feather-like kisses, beginning with his face, then moving steadily downward across his throat, then his chest and stomach. Smiling with satisfaction, she realized her attentions had worked the magic she'd intended. He reached for her, but she surprised him by pressing his hands into the bunk, smiling at the momentary amazement that crossed his face when she slid over his body to settle herself astride him. "Jesus, Katherine," he said hoarsely as she began a slow, tantalizing rhythm that soon had her heart pounding in her ears. He reached up to grasp her hips, slowing down the rhythm, and pulling her forward, lifted himself off the bed to suck at each hard, coral tipped nipple until they felt so swollen with desire Katie thought they would surely burst. She sat astride his sleek powerful body, her fingers clinched in the silky hair on his chest, her head thrown back with her eyes closed while she reveled in the intoxicating pleasure that roared through her veins. Through the foggy haze of delight Katie realized the tempo had increased. Opening her eyes to glowing embers, she stared in momentary shock at Tulane's handsome face and sweat-drenched body. She had known for some time that his feelings for her went beyond the bounds of sexual attraction but it was a shock to suddenly know that her own feelings had grown to such proportions. "Oh God!" she whimpered, not sure if it was because she suddenly knew just how important this man had become to her or if it was because her body had exploded into a myriad of fragments. Their bodies strained together sharply in mutual deliverance so exquisite it almost took Katie's breath. She was only dimly aware when Tulane lifted her off him and placed her beside him on the bunk once more. It was several minutes before Katie recovered enough to think

rationally, but when she did, she realized Tulane had gotten up and slipped into his trousers. He was standing with his back toward her in front of the dresser. His strong brown shoulders gleamed in the pale lantern's light, his hair was tousled like a small boy's. It made Katie want to smooth it back into place. He was holding something in one hand but set it back onto the dresser before Katie could see it clearly. She rose silently, slipped into her gown, then moved to his side. "You were certainly stunning in uniform, Christopher," she said softly with a nod at the picture he had placed back onto the dresser. It showed a very handsome young army major and his family all dressed in their Sunday best. Katie knew instinctively the picture had been taken shortly before their deaths and that Tulane kept it in open sight as a constant reminder. She also knew with that same unerring instinct that he had also just realized the impact that her being here had on him. He had come to realize that she was much more important to him than he had intended. He was shaken by that fact, as was she, but Katie knew he would not reveal the depth of his feelings, not to her nor to anyone else. He would forever keep denying them because he could not put his guilt for his family's deaths behind him and admit that he had a right to love again. It made Katie sad, but it was also a relief. If the feelings were left unspoken they would not have to be dealt with. That was a blessing for she did not know if she had the strength to walk away from him once he had admitted the extent of his feelings. It was far better it was not put to the test. "Thanks", he said in reference to her comment. "Major Bingham says you've been offered a position at Fort Lincoln." When Tulane did not comment, Katie moved closer, smiling as his arm automatically reached to enclose her and draw her near. She rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder, listening to the peaceful beating of his heart. "You'd like to go back, wouldn't you, Christopher?" He glance down at her as a wry grin touched his lips. "Is that what you think?" Following her nod, he smiled again and shook his head. "Sure, part of me wants to go back. Lyle is right about that. Part of me will always be a soldier. Must be all those years of training. "But I can't, Katherine, for a lot of reasons. You must have respect from the men under your command to be an effective officer and I've done too much, seen too much to ever expect to regain that kind of respect."

"You earned it after the war," Katie pointed out softly. "You were a southern officer in a Union army, but you didn't let it stop you then." "I was a lot younger then," Tulane said with a rueful smile. "I had more patience, more energy. No, Katherine, there's far too much water under the bridge to consider going back to the army. It wouldn't work." "I think you're wrong about that. You were a splendid officer once; you could be again." Tulane shook his head stubbornly as he turned to face her. His features softened at the sincere concern in Katie's face. "No, Katherine, that part of my life is over. I don't know what the future may hold, but it won't be with the army." "Now," he added, "you really should go. It's almost daylight." Katie stared into the depths of his eyes, seeing the concern, the caring that seemed to surprise him. Her heart began to pound with excitement when her eyes quickly swept over him one more time. He saw the gesture, felt that same excitement but swallowed and gently tied her robe closed. With one hand in the center of her back, he propelled her toward the door, opened it, and escorted her to the barn's entrance. A brisk wind had risen, bringing with it the promise of rain. Clouds were gathering to cover the moon. Faint peals of thunder were just barely audible in the distance as she turned to embrace him once more. Tulane kissed her hungrily, then seemed to recover his senses and eased from the embrace. "Goodnight, Katherine," he said in a suddenly shaky voice. Katie reached up to touch his cheek. Tears burned her eyelids, clouded her vision. She was certain Tulane knew as well as she that they could never be together again. Their emotions were too volatile, too dangerous. One more time in each other's arm could well bring a confession that once spoken, would bring destruction to both their lives. She knew they were both unwilling to take that risk. So she whirled and gathering her robe closely about her to ward off the chilly wind, she dashed across the yard into the house. When she paused just inside the front door to look back, Tulane had disappeared from sight. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE When Katie had gone, Tulane found sleep impossible. After turning and tossing for an hour he got up and dressed. He carried the gunbelt over

his shoulder to the barn's front entrance where he was strapping it into place when the closing of the house's front door caught his attention. Looking up, he was surprised to see Matt striding through the yard carrying his squirrel rifle. Even from across the barnyard, the despondency gleaming from his eyes was like a living thing that had taken possession of him. A chill of foreboding ran through Tulane. He quickly finished tying the gunbelt into place, then walked out into the cool gray light of dawn. It was still very early, too early for the soldiers to be stirring though he knew the sentries would be making regular post checks. Following Matt, he kept several hundred yards between them, staying out of sight in case he was wrong about Matt's reasons for this early morning stroll, but he felt oddly certain that he knew exactly where Matt was headed, and why. Matt walked resolutely past the garden, past the end of the wheat field, then turned toward the stream that cut across his property a few hundred yards behind the house. It was this spot where Dane did his fishing. A quiet, shady spot on the bank of sparkling stream where a thick clump of cane provided a natural screen from the farmhouse. When Tulane got close enough to see clearly, what he saw sent a chill up his spine for Matt was seated on the ground near the water with the long barreled rifle between his knees with the muzzle staring him directly in the face. Tulane started to move to stop him, then decided to wait a moment. It was possible that Matt would reconsider this madness on his own. Minutes dragged by like hours while Matt sat there with the rifle poised, the hammer pulled back and ready. He had not combed his hair or shaved since the previous day. His clothes looked like he had worn them for days. He was a pathetic creature, Tulane thought to himself as he watched the struggle rage in Matt's mind. He would never have suspected that Matt Wainwright would prove to be such a fool, but there he sat with a gun pointed at his head, ready to blow his brains out. After several long minutes crawled by, Matt gave a choked cry as he sat the rifle upright, then bent his head onto his knees and began to weep. Tulane stepped from the canebreak and silently took the gun from Matt's hand. Matt's head slowly lifted when he realized he was not alone. The bleakness in his eyes deepened when he recognized his visitor. "You needn't have concerned yourself," he said in a broken, defeated voice. "I

couldn't do that either." The self pitying inflection in his voice brought a sparkle of anger to Tulane's eyes. He stood over Matt's hunched figure without speaking for a few seconds while he considered his options. "Do you seriously believe you're the only man who's ever been scared shitless?" he asked at last in a crisp authoritative tone. "I've seen it happen a thousand times; men scared so bad they wet their pants before going into combat. It's not that uncommon, Matt. Looking down a gun barrel, especially in the hands of a professional killer like Jake Stoddard, will do funny things to a man." Matt raised his head just a bit, not enough to look at Tulane, but enough to show that he was listening. When Tulane remained silent for a few seconds Matt cleared his throat. "You've never been that scared though, have you, Tulane?" "Of course I have." Tulane smothered a smile at the surprised expression that sprang to Matt's face. "The first battle I was in, I was so scared I couldn't remember which was my right flank and which was my left. And if you don't think a hundred screaming Apaches will scare the living hell out of a man, you'd better think again." "Major Bingham said you slipped into an Apache village to rescue him." "I did, but I was scared so bad I couldn't remember the words to the 'Our Father' so I could pray," Tulane replied with a grim smile at the memory. "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, Matt. Any man who says he's never been afraid is either a fool or a liar. It's what you do when you're scared that matters." "What do you mean?" Matt asked hesitantly as he wiped tears off his face with one big hand. "Being afraid doesn't make a man a coward. A man becomes a coward when he lets that fear stop him from doing what he knows he has to do." "Then I'm a first class coward by any standards," Matt said weakly. "You are if you think blowing your head off is the solution. What the hell are you thinking about? You saw what Elwood's suicide did to his family. They'll never get over what he did. Do you want Katherine and the kids to go through that?" Matt shook his head and rubbed at his temples, then shrugged dejectedly. "No, I suppose not, but I'm no good to them this way either. They'd be better off without me."

"I couldn't agree with you more." The scorn in his voice lifted Matt's head, but he only stared at Tulane's angry face for a moment, then shrugged again. "You should've let Jake Stoddard kill me that day at Fletcher's," he grunted, dropping his head again. "I'd rather be dead than have to live the rest of my life knowing I'm a coward, having Katie know I'm a coward. She's lost all the respect she ever had for me and I can't blame her. She's always thought I was a strong man; now she knows different." "What do you expect after the way you treated her last night?" Matt got slowly to his feet and squared his massive shoulders. He took a long breath, then made himself look into Tulane's sparkling blue-gray eyes. "You're right. I behaved like a jackass. It was a stupid thing to do; telling her to go to you." He waited but Tulane did not comment, but stood watching him warily. "She did spend the night with you, didn't she?" Still Tulane did not speak. Matt stared at him, hoping to see some display of guilt, but saw only Tulane's impassive face. "I'm asking you if you slept with my wife," he added finally with a bit more emotion in his voice. Tulane studied him thoughtfully in silence for a few seconds. He kept his face blank, devoid of emotion, but his piercing eyes gleamed with contempt. Only his high regard for Katie made him hold his tongue. "Do you really expect me to answer that?" he asked in a soft, calm voice. "No, I guess not," Matt mumbled finally. "I couldn't blame her if she did. I mean, I told her to. And...there's not much I could about it anyway, is there? I could call you on it, but you'd just kill me. I'm no match for you." "Is that you want to do, Matt? If it is, don't let this gun stop you." While he was speaking, Tulane was busy untying the gunbelt, then dropped it onto the grassy carpet at his feet. "Okay, Matt, now there is no gun. Come on. If you want to fight, I'll fight you, man to man. No gun, just you and me." Matt stared at him open-mouthed, his eyes widening with alarm. "No," he said as he backed away a couple of steps. "No, I..I don't want.." "Then don't ever ask me that again. Or you'll have to fight me whether you want to or not." He leaned down to pick up his gunbelt, then hung it over his shoulder and stalked away, still holding Matt's squirrel gun. At least he wouldn't be shooting himself with that gun, he thought. As far as he knew it was the only weapon Matt owned. He was still cursing under his breath when he emerged from the

canebreak a few seconds later. Then his attention was drawn completely away from Matt when he saw a blue-clad trooper flying past the house toward the army's temporary camp. The rider skidded to a halt in front of Major Bingham's tent, calling to the officer excitedly. A moment later Lyle emerged from the tent, still pulling up his suspenders, to hear the young trooper's report. Seconds later the soldier saluted and rode on beyond the tents to the picket line. Lyle waved for Tulane to join him. His ruddy face was flushed with anger, the cold blue eyes snapping with indignation as Tulane approached. He slipped into his jacket and quickly fastened the brass buttons into place, then looked up at Tulane irritably. "What's going on, Lyle?" Lyle snapped his fingers impatiently at one of the nearby sentries, indicating he wanted his horse saddled immediately. "That goddamned fool Fletcher! He's decided to ignore my orders. He's moving a large herd of cattle toward the fence just below Wainwright's boundary, where his land and McGee's join. I'd like you to saddle up, Chris, and go with me. I may need your advice." "All right, Lyle. I'll go along for the ride." CHAPTER THIRTY Major Bingham had his lines of defense ready by the time the billowing cloud of dust on the horizon was close enough to allow the first clear glimpse of Justin's herd. The most probable point of entry was the corner that joined Matt's farm with that of Duncan McGee, for it was directly behind that juncture that the river was shallow enough to afford easy access for Justin's cattle. It was also at this crucial point that Lyle ordered the menacing Gattling gun wheeled into position and ordered the gun crew to stand by. "You think he'll go through with this?" he asked Tulane who sat astride the black stallion beside him while he peered into the distance. "He'll go through with it. He's come too far to back down. He has to go through with it." "He must be crazy," Lyle said, shaking his head. "What kind of man goes up against a Gattling gun?" "A desperate man. A man who's got nothing to lose." "Like Matt Wainwright?" Lyle asked with a glance at Tulane's dark, impassive features.

"What do you mean by that?" "I know it's none of my business, but it's obvious that Wainwright's bordering on an emotional collapse." He paused but Tulane did not comment, but rather kept his eyes on the horizon where Justin's herd was rapidly approaching. "I saw Mrs. Wainwright leave the barn this morning, Chris." Lyle lifted his hand to ward off any denial, but was surprised when Tulane only stared at him. "It doesn't take a great strategist to figure out why she was leaving the barn at four a.m." "Like you said, Lyle, it's none of your business," Tulane said in a clipped tone that Lyle remembered well from the past. Lyle's bright blue eyes widened just a bit at the authority Tulane could project without even being aware of it. A faint grin came to his lips while they stared at each other silently for a few seconds. "Well, I think there may be hope for you yet, my friend," he said. "If you don't mind," Tulane pointed out dryly, "can we deal with Justin Fletcher right now and worry about my emotional well-being later?" Lyle grinned faintly as he nodded before turning his attention to the huge herd of cattle bearing down on them. He twisted in the saddle, irritably noting the farmers who were riding up to see what was going to happen, then looked at his troopers. Except for the gun crew, the company was mounted in single file along the inside of the four strand barbed wire fence, their eyes on the rapidly approaching herd while they awaited orders. The ground trembled from the stampeding herd. The air was filled with the noise of whooping and yelling cowboys as they drove the herd straight at the fence. They were less than half a mile away when Lyle turned again to direct an order to his men. "Fire over their heads!" he shouted to be heard above the confusion. "Keep firing until further orders!" Then looking to the gun crew, he instructed, "You men hold your fire but make damned sure that gun is ready if I give the order!" It was easy to pick Justin Fletcher and his sister out of the on-coming riders despite the dust. Justin's face bore a desperate cast that made his features pale, but Taryn was another matter. The girl rode low on the pinto pony's neck, her long black hair flowing out behind her. It was hard not to admire a woman who rode as well as Taryn Fletcher, Tulane thought dryly. There was a sensual quality about her that was difficult to overlook in spite of the fact that she was wielding a rifle,

shooting into the air to keep the frightened cattle moving in the right direction. With a single blast the troopers opened fire, shooting just above the heads of the on-rushing herd but the cattle were too frightened to be deterred. "That won't stop them!" Tulane shouted while he brought the nervous stallion under control. "Use the gun, Lyle!" Major Bingham nodded, whirling his horse alongside the stallion to give the gun crew a clear field of fire. "Take down the leaders!" he shouted to the gun crew. By now the cattle were very close, within two hundred yards of the fence. So close Tulane felt their fear, smelled the panic that drove them straight into the muzzle of the deadly gun. The Gattling gun roared, belching out smoke and fire as it sprayed the front of the herd with three hundred rounds of ammunition. The cattle pitched forward, sending those closest behind flipping end over end. Still the merciless gun kept firing. The gun crew methodically turned the crank that fed the ammunition belts into the weapon, trying to pay no heed to the herd who was now close enough to feel the heat from hundreds of on-rushing bodies. Twenty yards from the fence the gun at last had the effect Lyle intended. Dead cattle piled up high enough to at last turn the remainder away from the river. As the herd made a bellowing, panic stricken turn into the prairie Justin pulled his horse up short, cursing loudly, to survey the damage. A blur off to his right caught his eye. Turning quickly in the saddle he saw Taryn streak past on a collision course with the barbed wire fence. "Taryn!" he shouted, knowing she couldn't hear him above the noise and confusion. "Taryn! No! Stop!" With his heart pounding in his ears, Justin set his spurs to his own horse in a futile effort to catch her. Tulane saw the girl coming toward them. It took a second to realize she did not know how close she was to the fence. Her full attention was directed at trying to turn the herd once more back toward the river. "Jesus Christ!" Lyle shouted at his side. "She's going to hit the wire!" Before the words had left his mouth, the pinto pony saw the fence. He whirled sharply to avoid the collision, but lost his balance and fell sideways into the wire. Taryn had no time to prepare for the fall, but fell headlong into the wire.

Instantly Lyle gave the order to cease fire. The gun ground to a halt, still billowing smoke, as the gun crew scurried to reload in the event it became necessary. By the time Tulane and Lyle could dismount and reach Taryn, Justin was already there. For a second he stood helplessly staring at the limp, bloodied girl suspended in the wire, then reached to grab her. "Don't touch her!" Justin's head snapped up in surprise as Tulane approached. "Why the hell not?" Justin demanded furiously. "Can't you see that she's hurt?" "She'll be hurt a lot worse if you start tugging on her. The barbs are embedded in her throat, Fletcher. In case you haven't noticed, this damned wire is razor sharp. You start yanking on her, you'll tear her throat out." While Justin was digesting this news, Tulane was taking a pair of wire cutters from his hip pocket. "Matt! Duncan! Wilson! Give me a hand!" he instructed without looking up. The men leaped to follow orders and were at his side in seconds. Taryn slowly regained consciousness after having been knocked out cold by the sudden fall and the glancing collision between her head and a sturdy fence post. When she began wiggling, Tulane dropped to his heels in front of her. "Taryn! Listen to me! Don't move! Do you understand?" Her wide, ebony eyes focused on his face between the strands of wire. Despite the girl's obvious pain and fright, her spirit was undamaged. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as she lifted her head until she could into his face. "Is my horse all right?" she asked in a squeaky voice. Tulane nodded, thinking how typically like Taryn such a response was. He rose to his feet to take a quick look at her situation. She was suspended off the ground by the tightly stretched wire. Its razor sharp barbs were buried in her skin holding her immobile while dots of blood sprinkled her snug fitting denim jeans and cotton shirt, rapidly becoming larger and larger. "Hold her up as steady as you can," Tulane said to the three concerned faces that circled him. When I cut the barbs out don't let her fall." He waited a second for questions but none were forthcoming so he stepped back to let the men move closer to the girl. When they were in position with Matt at her head and Duncan and Alfred Wilson on each side, he dropped to one knee beside Taryn. Carefully, he cut each barb from her flesh. In seconds his hands were covered with Taryn's blood.

Taryn gritted her teeth to keep back the whimpers of pain that formed behind her lips as she concentrated instead on the dark intensity that had surfaced in Tulane's handsome face. "You seem to know a lot about barbed wire," she said in an effort to keep her mind off the pain. He did not speak but kept working steadily, freeing her from the piercing barbs, one at a time. As each barb was released from her flesh her weight rested more on the three men holding her while they concentrated on keeping her weight from pressing the wire deeper into her skin. "You're a real son-of-a-bitch, Tulane. Anybody ever tell you that?" Taryn hissed through clinched teeth. "Frequently," Tulane replied without looking at her. "As well as a few other expletives I doubt you've even heard of." "The Indians call you Lobo...Killer," she jeered as haughtily as her present condition would allow. "They have good reason. For a very long time I considered it my personal duty to erase the Indian nation, in Arizona at least." "Then why are you doing this...helping me, I mean. I got myself into this mess. I didn't ask for your help." "Every man is allowed one moment of total madness, isn't he?" Tulane asked with a sardonic glance into her face. "This must be mine." "One you may well live to regret," the girl snapped. "At least if I have anything to say about it." "I'll just have to take my chances, won't I?" Taryn's black eyes widened for an instant in surprise, then her lips curled back over ivory teeth in a sneer. "If the situation was reversed, I'd leave you hanging here for the vultures. You know that!" Following his affirmative nod, she wet her lips and swallowed against the rising urge to faint. "That makes you a goddamned fool, Tulane! Doesn't it?" Tulane lifted his head as he paused to wipe his forehead with the back of one bloody hand. He stared into the girl's pain-filled face, sensing the panic she held at bay, seeing the pain that washed through her slender frame, threatening to sweep her into unconsciousness. "Yes, ma'am," he drawled, smiling at the fury that leaped to her eyes. "But then I've been called that once or twice too." Taryn's lips parted in anger while she began to thrash in the effort to erase the self confidence from his face. The added pressure on the wire brought a spurt of blood from her neck where a razor sharp barb was embedded. Before she could do more harm to herself, Tulane's fist collided

neatly with the point of her jaw. Instantly Taryn's body went limp in the protecting grasp of the farmers. Tulane looked past her to Justin's pale face. "I didn't hurt her, Fletcher. I hit her just hard enough to knock her out before she did more damage to herself." Justin nodded warily, stepping around Duncan to make sure Taryn was safe. Tulane clipped the last barb from her skin, rising at the same time to catch her head when it fell forward. He took her unconscious body from the protecting grasp of the three men and lifted her to his shoulder. "The closest house is yours, Matt. Is it all right to take her there?" Indecision flashed into the big farmer's face as he glanced at Justin hovering nearby. "She's bleeding like a stuck hog," Tulane snapped impatiently. "She needs medical attention. I know she's a cold blooded bitch but I doubt you want her to die. It's your decision, Matt. What's it going to be?" Matt glanced at Justin's pale face, then back to the limp girl hanging over the gunman's shoulder. Licking at his dry lips, he finally managed a weak nod. "All right, Tulane. Take her to Katie. If anybody can do anything for her, Katie can," he said nervously. The words had not faded from Matt's lips before Tulane had mounted with Taryn hanging over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Already his shirt was wet with her blood and sticking to his back. Turning the black stallion, he caught Major Bingham's eye. "Lyle, tell Fletcher he can come along if he has a mind to. I think your boys have taken the fight out of him for the time being." "What about Jake?" Lyle asked with a motion toward the prairie where the gunman waited just beyond rifle range. "Jake Stoddard gets within killing range of me at his own risk," Tulane said coldly with a brief glance at Stoddard. "My sentiments exactly," Lyle agreed with a slight grin. Then to Justin he said, "Fletcher, if your boys can round up those, cattle my men will supervise watering them a few at a time. If that's agreeable with you." Pausing at the indecision on Justin's handsome face, Lyle shook his head impatiently. "What'll it be, Fletcher? Do your cows get water or not?" Finally Justin nodded wearily. "Yes, yes, water them. You'll have no more trouble from my men." The resignation in Justin's voice brought a grim smile to Lyle's ruddy face as he swung his horse alongside the stallion. "Amazing, isn't it,

Chris?" he said dryly. "What a few rounds from an innocent little thing like a Gattling gun can do for a man's stubborn disposition?" The amused twinkle in Tulane's brought a low chuckle from the soldier as he turned his horse back to leave instructions for his troopers. Tulane touched his heels to the stallion's flanks, urging the animal into a spirited run that carried them swiftly across the wide expanse of prairie toward the Wainwright farm. The heavy clouds opened up as the farmhouse sprang into sight over the horizon, drenching Tulane and the limp girl in seconds. He shifted Taryn's weight slightly to let the circulation flow back into his shoulder, then pulled his hat down against the downpour. "Damn!" he cursed softly with an irritated glance at the dark sky. "Hasn't this goddamned country ever heard of simple little showers? One little cloud pops up in the sky and the next thing you know there's a damned flood!" The black stallion snorted in agreement, tossing his elegant head in alarm at the sudden crash of thunder in the distance. Tulane reached down to soothe the big horse's neck with an affectionate pat and a wry grin. "She's right, you know," he said to the horse as he quickly reached to steady Taryn's body by grasping the belt at her waist when the big animal shied at a monstrous snake slithering through the tall prairie grass to escape the downpour. "I am a goddamned fool. I have the uneasy feeling that we'd all be safer if I'd left her hanging in the wire. Cutting her out was a mistake, Satan. A mistake I'm afraid I'm going to have reason to regret...soon." CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE From his position near the doorway of the Wainwright parlor, Tulane observed Justin Fletcher's worried face. Justin's frantic pacing and concerned features did not fit the picture of the cruel, lecherous half brother that Taryn had painted, he thought while drawing on a thin brown cigarette. There was no doubt of Justin's sincerity, Tulane thought as he watched the rancher make another round of short nervous paces across Katie's hand woven rug. Justin's handsome face was still pale and a slight tremor remained in both hands. His eyes strayed frequently to the hallway, his ears straining for any sound coming from Dane's bedroom, where Tulane had carried Taryn's limp body earlier. Dane, it seemed, was destined to give up his room for whatever poor

soul happened to need comfort at the moment, Tulane thought with a grim smile. Then his eyes moved from Justin's nervous face to Matt. Matt had gone immediately to the liquor cabinet near the kitchen door upon entering the house and had helped himself to three or four glasses of whiskey since. Just how many Tulane could not remember. At least the liquor had brought some color back to his features, Tulane noticed. Although the big farmer refused to meet his gaze across the room, Tulane knew Matt's mind was occupied with the unpleasant scene down by the stream earlier. He only hoped what he'd said would make the man think about what his behavior was doing to his family. That thought had barely entered Tulane's mind when he gave a bitter snort, then turned toward the open doorway to stare across the horizon. What did he care what Matt Wainwright did to himself? He had no right to interfere in these people's lives. No right to tell the man how to treat his family. Still, he reminded himself sternly, he had taken on the job of protecting Matt Wainwright and that mean protecting the man from himself if need be. He could see no other way, could only hope the trouble with Fletcher was at an end...yet knew in his soul it wasn't. The sound of Katie's calm voice from the hallway swung Tulane around. She was standing in front of Justin with a comforting hand on his forearm,. Tulane saw the expression that passed through Justin's face. Saw the tenderness that had immediately replaced the concern for his sister, and wondered if the rancher knew his face was as transparent as glass. "She'll be fine, Justin," Katie was saying. She was either unaware of Justin's feelings or trying very hard to ignore them for her face revealed only her desire to relieve his mind about Taryn's injuries. "She has some very bad cuts and she's lost a considerable amount of blood, but none of her injuries are serious. She needs rest mostly, Justin, and that we can provide for her." Justin looked bewildered. His gaze lifted beyond Katie to meet Matt's across the room. "I don't understand. Why should you be willing to help Taryn at all?" he asked in a puzzled voice. "You know how badly she hates you. Even this morning, we meant to plow right over you to reach the river. Why are you so willing to help her now?" Matt shrugged. "There's been enough trouble between us, Justin," he said gruffly. "And there'll probably be more, but we don't to see either of you hurt or killed. We just want to be left alone." Justin swallowed as he squared his shoulders resolutely. "This doesn't change anything. I want you to understand that, Matt. I appreciate

you helping Taryn, but don't expect it to sway me from doing what I have to." Lyle Bingham moved to confront Justin before Matt could reply. The major's face was calm, but his eyes sparkled with anger, his very stance a clear warning. "What the hell is wrong with you, Fletcher?" he demanded. "Your cows are being watered, your sister is being nursed back to health, so what more do you want from these people?" "I want only what belongs to me," Justin replied, meeting Lyle's anger squarely. "I want my land back." Tulane wondered if he was the only one who noticed Justin's eyes shift ever so briefly to touch Katie's worried face, noticed the tenderness that flashed through his face before he returned to stare at Lyle. "Mr. Fletcher, I'll be leaving in a few minutes on a trip to Helena. I have an appointment with Judge Garrett. If he confirms what I already believe to be the truth, I'll be returning with a murder warrant for you, as well as a permanent court order giving these people rightful possession of this land. "If I were you, Mr. Fletcher, I'd be happy my cattle were getting watered and start discussing a compromise with Wainwright and the others. It might well save you an even more bleak future." Justin did not flinch but returned the soldier's stony glare without emotion. "I will not compromise with squatters, Major. And I do not take kindly to threats from you or anyone else." "Then we understand each other perfectly, don't we?" Lyle asked in a soft drawl. Justin nodded curtly. "Yes, Major, perfectly." Lyle shook his head as he turned away. As he passed Tulane on his way to the door, he motioned for Tulane to follow him. Outside the house, beyond hearing distance, Lyle halted and turned to face the gunman. "I hate to leave you with this hornet's nest, Chris," he said in low tones with a meaningful glance at the house. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on things until I get back. Shouldn't take more than a week. I'm leaving my troops deployed at all the farms in case Fletcher tries something else while I'm gone." "Just what do you expect this Judge Garrett to tell you?" Lyle scratched his head for a moment, then smiled. "That Justin Fletcher paid him to sign that court order." "You heard Fletcher, Lyle. He won't give up this fight regardless of what you may uncover in Helena."

"I think he'll have a different point of view if I return with a murder warrant for him and Jake Stoddard," Lyle countered with a confident smile which faded with the tightness that stretched Tulane's lips into thin lines of bitter amusement. "What makes you so certain he'll keep fighting? What do you know that I don't, Chris?" Tulane's gaze flashed toward the Wainwright parlor before coming to rest on the major's curious face. "Because it's not the land that Justin Fletcher wants so desperately, Lyle. This thing isn't because of the land; it never has been. The land dispute just gave him the opportunity to strike out at Wainwright." Lyle studied the tense expression on Tulane's handsome face in silence for several seconds before clearing his throat. "Fascinating woman, Mrs. Wainwright," he said softly, keeping a close eye on Tulane for a response. "She's not just beautiful, but she's kind and generous, and compassionate to those who happen to be less fortunate." He paused, waiting for a reaction, then smiled inwardly when only Tulane's calm, slightly bored expression met his pause. "She also seems to possess an uncanny ability to make men reach beyond themselves in the effort to win her affection. First you, then Justin Fletcher. Yes, a remarkable woman. Tell me something, Chris. Does Mrs. Wainwright realize just how many men she has sweating over her?" "That's enough, Lyle!" Tulane's eyes had turned almost jade green with anger while he stared at the soldier's amused face. Muscles in both lean jaws clenched with the struggle for control he waged with himself in those few tense seconds. "Whatever you may think about me or Fletcher or Wainwright, you may feel perfectly free to voice whenever you choose, but you be goddamned careful what you say about Katherine!" He was unaware that his right hand had dropped to the butt of the Colt on his hip but Lyle saw it, knew the move was instinctive and did not feel threatened by it. Instead, his gaze held with Tulane's warning gaze with mild amusement. Then stepping back a pace, his arm flew up to halt in a smart army salute. "Yes sir! Major Tulane, sir!" he said crisply, although his sparkling eyes belied the sharp military manner he was trying to project. "Permission to stand at ease, sir!" In spite of himself, Tulane's anger crumbled into a soft chuckle. He grinned, then returned the salute with exact precision. Then he rubbed his chin ruefully and took several slow, deep breaths to rid himself of the tension.

"Damn, Chris!" Lyle easily as they both turned to begin walking toward the bivouac area behind the barn. "If a man didn't know you as well as I do, you could just about scare the shit out of him! I can understand why Wainwright is creeping around like a scalded hound." "I meant what I said about Katherine, Lyle." "I know you did, Chris, and the message has been received…loud and clear." It was well past dark when Justin left his horse with a sleepy-eyed stable hand and walked wearily into the big white ranch house. He tossed his hat onto the hall table as he rounded the turn into his office, then stopped short. Jake Stoddard sat behind Justin's desk with his dusty boots propped on one corner, confidently smoking one of Justin's imported, private cigars. The gunman's brows lifted only slightly at Justin's annoyed expression, but he made no effort to vacate Justin's chair. "You've certainly made yourself at home, haven't you?" Justin growled, but his voice was too tired from the strain of waiting for Taryn to regain consciousness to contain any sting. "Might as well," Jake replied calmly with a raised eyebrow as Justin shoved his feet off the desk. With a mild shrug, Jake eased himself from Justin's chair and took the harder cane-backed chair that faced the desk as the rancher dropped into his place. "How's Taryn?" "Not good, but she'll be all right in a few days. No serious injuries, just a lot of cuts and bruises." Justin turned in the swivel chair to reach the liquor cabinet beneath the window and poured himself a stiff drink. Turning back to rest his elbows on the top of the desk, he glanced at the glass in Jake's hand with a scowl. "Nice of you to ask," Justin grunted. "What the hell happened to you out there this morning?" Jake took a healthy pull from the cigar dangling from his lips as he shrugged. "Wasn't nothin' I could do except get myself killed. Lyle Bingham would like nothin' better than to blow my brains out and Tulane likes me even less." "Could be their judgment is better than I thought," Justin grunted over the rim of his glass, noticing the amused glint that appeared in the gunman's eyes. God, did Stoddard have no feelings at all, he wondered absently before his thoughts returned to the problem he'd been struggling with ever

since his brief conversation with the army officer. "Bingham's on his way to Helena to find Judge Garrett. You know what that means?" he asked Jake, then continued without giving the gunman a chance to answer. "It means he's going to find out that I bribed Garrett to issue that court order. It means he'll be back with a US Marshal, Jake, with two murder warrants, one for me...and one for you," he finished with a grim smile while he pointed at Jake. Jake's weasel-like features did not reflect any concern. Instead he drew deeply on the fragrant cigar, then exhaled slowly, keeping an amused eye on Justin's agitated face. "Not if Garrett doesn't tell him anythin'." Surprise leaped to Justin's narrowed green eyes while he stared silently at Jake for a second. "If Bingham puts the squeeze on Garrett, believe me, he'll fold up like a ten-cent accordion and tell everything he knows and make up what he isn't sure about," he said at last with a snort. "Not if he's dead." Jake's words were softly spoken, but they brought Justin's head up with a snap to stare into the gunman's deadly, flat eyes. Justin felt a chill spread through him. Still, he thought to himself, Jake made sense. Besides, what did he have to lose at this point. "There's a stage leaving the Deadman's Gorge relay station around midnight. You can be in Billings by morning to catch the early train to Helena. With a bit of luck you can beat Bingham there," he said slowly while thinking out his alternatives. Jake stood up and crushed out the stub of his cigar in the crystal ashtray on the desk. He drained his whiskey glass and wiped his lips with the sleeve of one forearm. Reaching for the worn Stetson on the floor beside his chair, he grinned confidently. "A little luck is all I need. I'll wire you when it's done," he said, then walked from the office without a backward glance. Behind him, Justin felt that unpleasant shiver again and turned to refill his own glass with the warming whiskey. After a moment of total silence he looked up at the portrait of his father that dominated the wall above the fireplace. Lifting his glass in a salute to the painting, his lips twisted into thin lines of contempt. "Here's to us, Pa! You and me and Taryn! We're every bit as depraved and cold-blooded as you dared dream. Nothing stops the Fletchers, does it, pa? No sir! Not us! We'll do anything to win...murder, bribery, lie, cheat, steal...you name it and we'll do it, won't we?"

Then his eyes narrowed as he shook his head and lowered his drink. "Taryn could've been killed today, pa. You know that? But that wouldn't have mattered either as long as we won, would it? Well, you know what, you old bastard! We're not winning! Not by a long shot! And you know something else? I'm starting to wonder if all this is worth it. What do you think about that, you bloody son-of-a-bitch!" Then Justin drained the glass of whiskey and poured another, wishing it would hurry and warm the chill in the pit of his stomach that Jake Stoddard's cold, deadly presence always seemed to create. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO Taryn pulled back the cheerful blue and white chintz curtains to stare out into a clear, sunny morning. In the two days since her bout with the barbed wire she had quickly recovered from her wounds to the point where she now chafed to be home. Still, she thought to herself as she watched young Dane carefully preparing an elaborate box trap at the edge of Katie's vegetable garden with a large wooden box set on a forked stick with a tempting carrot just beneath, there was something remarkable about this home and its people. Despite the undercurrents of tension she sensed in Matt and Katie, she was inexplicably warmed by their obvious love for the children. Even Matt's heavy drinking and surly attitude could not cover up the love his eyes displayed when he looked at one of his children. But there was a sadness in those eyes too that Taryn recognized almost immediately. So the happy home of the Wainwright's was tottering on the brink of disaster, she told herself, then wondered why this bit of news did not cheer her was it once would have. Her finely arched brows drew together in thought. She instinctively suspected that Tulane was part of the reason for Matt's abrupt personality change, but there was something else. She was sure of it. Something more disturbing to the big farmer than the growing affection between his wife and the handsome gunman, but what that could be Taryn was unable to put a label on. But she would, she promised herself. Before she went back to the ranch, she would have the answer to that puzzle, as well as the one that was keeping her here pretending to feel worse than she actually did. That puzzle was Tulane himself. The thought of him made Taryn's expressive lips curl into a secretive smile. Perhaps this would be the day

she unraveled the mystery behind Tulane's cold, unflinching reserve. The day when she finally learned what really went on behind those freezing multi-colored eyes. Her smile deepened with the prospect of melting Tulane's determined indifference to her, for despite the gunman's pointed avoidance since he'd brought her here from that fiasco at the fence, Taryn had a gut feeling the man was anything but indifferent to her presence. It was a possibility Taryn could not resist examining further. A sneeze from the doorway swung Taryn around with a gasp of surprise, then a tiny smile came to her lips when Glenna slid farther into the room. She was rubbing her nose energetically with one hand while the other held a colorful, dog-eared picture book. "Hello," Taryn said pleasantly, then moved a step closer at Glenna's shy smile. "Tell me, what's your brother building out there?" Glenna's enormous blue eyes regarded Taryn curiously while the index finger of one hand automatically slipped into her mouth as it always did when she was at a loss for words. Finally after staring at Taryn for a moment, she removed the finger with a smile. "It's a trap. We're going to catch a wife for Rodney," she explained in her musical, childish voice. "Rodney? Who's Rodney, and why can't he trap his own wife?" A peal of giggles bubbled from Glenna's cherry red mouth as she ventured another step closer to the beautiful girl wearing her mother's nightgown. "Rodney's our pet rabbit. Dane caught him last week but he's lonely so we're going to catch a lady rabbit so he won't be lonely anymore." Taryn nodded in understanding, smiling as she padded across the cool floor to perch on the side of the bed. Glenna stared at her silently. Her brilliant blue eyes looked Taryn over carefully, then her fluffy golden head tilted to one side as her little face grew very serious. "You're pretty." Taryn was taken aback by the child's honesty but she managed a smile. "Thank you. So are you." "Are you a bad lady?" Glenna asked, wide-eyed. "Why would you ask that?" Taryn countered uneasily. She had never been around children and so found Glenna's lack of tact unsettling. Still, the open curiosity in the child's face made her anxious to know what made the little girl ask such a question. "I heard Uncle Christopher talking to that soldier. Uncle Christopher doesn't like you. He thinks you're bad." A wicked gleam lit up Taryn's coal black eyes but still she maintained

the smile on her face. "Uncle Christopher?" she repeated in amazement. She stored that bit of information for future use and returned to Glenna's question. "Uncle Christopher doesn't like me, Glenna, because we don't happen to agree on some business matters, that's all. But no, I'm not a bad person. "I just know what I want and I go after it. That makes me seem bad to some people, I suppose. But," she added with a tiny smile. "I like you and I couldn't be too bad if I like little girls, could I?" Her simple explanation satisfied Glenna's curiosity. Clutching her picture book, Glenna moved closer, holding out the book. "Would you read me a story?" she asked shyly. Taryn's mouth dropped open with surprise, but she swallowed and reached to take the book as the little girl climbed up on the bed beside her. In a moment Taryn began to read with Glenna snuggled close to her side with her finger in her mouth. As Taryn read the age old story of Snow White, her gaze strayed frequently from the worn pages to the golden head of the little girl who had cuddled in the hollow of her shoulder against the pillows. Several times Taryn's voice faltered, making her stop to clear her throat before continuing. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a child, and brushed away sudden, unexplained tears. She would never know. She would never be able to have a child of her own, thanks to that botched abortion years ago. It suddenly occurred to her that Katie Wainwright was an incredibly lucky woman. Katie paused from peeling a mound of apples and turned toward the hallway where she knew Taryn would be appearing momentarily. She put aside her paring knife to wipe her hands on the tail of her apron just as Taryn moved silently into the living room. The girl was still wearing Katie's gown and wrapper. She was barefoot so her steps were silent as she slipped toward the front door, constantly making a sweep of the room to make certain she was unseen. "He's not there, Taryn," Katie said quietly from the kitchen doorway. Taryn whirled around stiffly, grimacing with pain from the numerous cuts on her body. "Who do you mean? What are you talking about?" she asked defensively. Katie folded her hands as she leaned against the doorjamb, studying the feigned innocence Taryn tried to project. "Tulane isn't in the barn," she

repeated quietly. "He's gone out. He won't be back for some time." "What makes you think I'm looking for him?" Taryn asked with narrowed eyes. "Aren't you?" "No, I'm not!" Taryn snapped. "I'm feeling better, that's all. So I thought I'd take a short walk. You know...sort of try my legs out. Anything wrong with that?" Katie shook her head while her gaze mocked Taryn's heated denial. For a moment their eyes remained locked together, then Taryn looked away. That wise expression on Katie's face made her nervous, made her feel foolish and anxious to escape. "You may walk anywhere you like, Taryn. You're welcome to explore all you want. That includes the barn, but Tulane won't be there, not yet anyway," Katie told her, then turned back into the kitchen to finish peeling the apples for the pies she planned to have ready for supper. A moment later she heard the front door close softly behind Taryn's stiff, indignant back. The warm earth squirted up between Taryn's bare toes as she hurried across the barnyard, leaving tiny puffs of dust wafting in the breeze. She looked quickly around but no one was in sight. Pausing at the barn's entrance, she looked toward the wheat field to see Matt and Dane in the midst of weeding the almost harvest ready crop. The inside of the barn was cool and dark but she did not pause to enjoy it but rather headed directly to the room at the back that was Tulane's living quarters. She tested the door cautiously, smiling when it swung open beneath her touch. Funny, she would have thought Tulane would have been more cautious, she said to herself as she stepped inside the room to take a quick look around. Maybe he was getting too comfortable here, too predictable. The mid-day sun flooded through the lone window in the outside wall to bathe the small room in rich warm light. In spite of its sparseness there was a kind of coziness about this room, she thought as she moved around it slowly. Handmade gingham curtains brightened the window and the colorful spread on the narrow bed gave the room a certain charm. Taryn's sharp eyes took quick notice of the small closet where Tulane's clothes hung neatly, then moved to the scarred dresser to observe the picture that stood alone on the top, as if Tulane wanted nothing else to detract from the photograph's importance. Taryn picked up the frame to study the picture thoughtfully. Her lips

curled with pleasure as she inspected the handsome face of the young army major who stared up at her from the frame. "Such intensity...so serious for such a handsome man," she mused aloud. "Such a waste." Putting the picture aside, she pulled open the drawers of the worn dresser and rummaged through them. Her fingers encountered something cold and metallic. She pushed aside some old clothes to find Tulane's gold oak leaves in the palm of her hand. "Wonder why he saved them?" she asked aloud curiously as she turned them over in her hand. "Why would a man who quit the army keep these things as a reminder? I should think he'd want nothing at all to remind him." "Perhaps some things have to be remembered." Taryn froze momentarily, then forced herself to take a deep breath and turn around. Her jet black eyes widened just a trace when they fell upon Tulane leaning against the doorjamb. For a second neither of them moved, then Tulane walked through the room toward her, holding out his open hand, indicating he wanted the oak leaves. Taryn swallowed, then meekly placed them in the palm of his hand. His long fingers closed around them as he backed away while his piercing gaze pinned hers in a long stare that Taryn was unable to break. "I don't recall inviting you to go through my things." His voice was cool, the set of his jaw taut with annoyance, his eyes cold and flat. Taryn's gaze flashed over him, appreciatively noting the dark green shirt beneath the black leather vest that snugly fit his broad shoulders, and the dark cord trousers that tautly outlined the muscles in his thighs as he stood stiffly before her. The heavy gunbelt rested around his waist, adding a distinctly dangerous flair to his appearance, but Taryn was not afraid. He was, after all, a man. She could handle any man ever born. That thought filled her once more with a confidence that made her smile as she lifted her head to lock her gaze with his. "I didn't wait for an invitation, Tulane. I didn't figure you'd issue one so I made my own. Hope you don't mind too much," she said with a seductive smile. "I don't suppose it would matter a hellevua lot if I did, would it? If you're so curious about me, why don't you just ask me what you want to know instead of prowling through my things?" "Would you tell me what I want to know?" The open challenge in Taryn's voice grated on his nerves, made him itch to pitch her out of the room and lock the door behind her, but he knew

that would only intensify her curiosity. "I might; it depends on the questions." Taryn smiled as she slipped past him to perch on the edge of the bed. Then tilting her sleek head to one side, she watched him through narrowed eyes as he half turned, leaning slightly on the dresser while he waited for her to speak. "Why did you keep those things?" she asked with a nod toward his left hand where he held the oak leaves. "I can understand why you'd keep the picture of your family, but why the insignias?" "To remind myself never to let anything become that important to me again. You see, Miss Fletcher," he said with a grim sardonic smile. "These remind me of a time in my life when they meant more to me than anything else. Of a time when getting these simple gold oak leaves pinned on my shoulders overshadowed everything...including my family. And I keep them so I never forget what they cost me." Taryn watched his lean face while he spoke, noting curiously that while his voice did not change at all, his eyes rapidly changed color with the emotions that surged through him. "You didn't murder your wife, did you?" Tulane stared at her silently for a moment before answering, then shrugged. "That depends on your point of view. It's also none of your business." Taryn smiled as she smoothed the wrapper more closely around her to reveal the firm swells of her breasts, smiling triumphantly when Tulane's eyes followed the motion and lingered. "Your wife was beautiful. She was dark, wasn't she? Part Indian maybe? Is that why you hate Indians so much, Tulane? Because your wife was one?" Sardonic amusement lit up Tulane's when he returned the girl's challenging stare. "Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Fletcher, but no. My wife wasn't Indian. She was dark because she was Creole, just like me." His eyes narrowed, became cold and glittering as he dropped the gold oak leaves into his vest pocket and moved closer. "Now let's drop the small talk and get down to what you're really doing out here. What is it you really want?" he asked in a flat tone that told Taryn he was through playing games. Taryn's eyes widened with feigned innocence as her slender shoulders moved in a helpless gesture. "All right, Tulane, if that's how you want it," she said with a pretty pout that made her red lips more inviting. "I guess you saved my life the other day and I just wanted to thank you."

Tulane's eyes mocked her. Yet, he couldn't stop them from flashing over her before returning to lock on her face. In spite of everything, Taryn Fletcher was an astonishingly beautiful young woman. She also knew it and used it to her advantage at every opportunity. "I doubt that, Miss Fletcher," he said dryly. Instant anger flared in Taryn's face as she bounced to her feet to stand glaring up at him. "Why? You don't think I can be grateful?" "I doubt the word is in your vocabulary." "You're wrong, Tulane. Very, very wrong," she told him in a controlled, silky tone as she moved a step closer. "I can be very grateful when the occasion calls for it. All I want is the chance to show you how much I appreciate what you did for me." One brow arched as Tulane studied her innocent expression. She looked much like a little girl instead of the taunting, seductive creature he knew her to be. Her jet black hair hung in silky cascades down her back, giving her a childish, appealing quality that made his blood warm in spite of his better judgment. The simple wrapper emphasized her slenderness and the understated allure of her lithe body that the white hot heat in her eyes told him was his for the taking. "That's not necessary," Tulane said gruffly after pausing to clear his throat. He moved past her toward the door for suddenly the room seemed too small, too short of air for him to breathe normally. "I can make you forget her, Tulane." Tulane swung around to face her, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the blatant challenge in her voice. She stood facing him, her hands on her hips, the wrapper open to reveal her brown nakedness, smiling at the instant desire she saw come to life in his face. "I can make you forget your wife and Katie Wainwright too. You want me, Tulane. You know it and I know it. All you have to do is close that door and come take it." "Miss Fletcher, you are completely, totally out of your mind!" "Am I?" Taryn opened the wrapper still further, then cupped each firm breast in her hands, toying with the dark coral tips until they stood in silent offering to him. A wicked chuckle bubbled from her throat when she nodded toward the uncontrollable erection that strained the snug-fitting trousers. "Who do you think you're kidding, Tulane? Not me certainly. You're the one with the hard-on," she taunted gleefully. Tulane moved forward until he was directly in front of her. For a

second Taryn thought he was about to take her in his arms. Then he smiled. "Miss Fletcher, don't let this temporary condition fool you. You're right about one thing; I am a man and like the males of most species I often react in a physical manner when I'm around a bitch in heat. It doesn't mean a goddamned thing!" It took a few seconds for Taryn's mind to absorb the cutting insult. Then with a roar of rage, she slapped his face with all her strength. Before she had time to catch her breath, Tulane slapped her back...hard. For a moment she stared at him in shock. She had never been struck by a man, not even Justin. It was several seconds before she recovered enough to react, but by then she was on fire with the flood of excitement that raced through her body. Her eyes gleamed with desire, her body began to tremble as she threw her arms around Tulane's neck. Her fingers locked in his thick hair, holding his head immobile so she could find his lips with hers. With one hand tangled in his hair, she began to rip at the buttons of his shirt with the other, then ran her talented fingers over his chest. Muffled moans of desire passed from her lips as she ground her mouth against his. When he tried to pull away, she clamped down on his lip with her teeth. She tasted the salty bitterness of his blood and was shocked that it only excited her more. Grabbing at his shoulders, she hoisted herself upward, wrapping her long legs around his waist, moaning deep in her throat while pressing herself closely to his body. Then reality flooded back only too clearly when Tulane was able to untangle himself and fling her away. Taryn landed on the bed where she lay staring up at his furious face, her chest heaving and her eyes gleaming with desire. Tulane wiped at his torn lip as he stared at her, stunned. "Jesus Christ! What the hell kind of woman are you?" he demanded hoarsely. "The kind who goes after what she wants." Her eyes gleamed with triumph as she watched him. "I should think a man with so many of the same qualities would be more appreciative." "Meaning what?" Taryn sat up, brushing her long tumbled hair from her face but making no effort to cover her nakedness. "Meaning that you wanted Katie Wainwright and you went after her. I saw you that morning after the storm, remember? You took her to bed. Don't bother denying it. So what's the big deal about screwing me? I'm sure you've got enough to go around." Tulane shook his head in amazement. It would do no good to reply to

her comment about Katie. Anything he said would only further her suspicions. "Whether or not I've got enough to go around isn't the point, Miss Fletcher," he said while he gingerly touched his torn lip, grimacing at the rapid swelling. "I don't know what kind of men you're used to, but I prefer to do my own hunting. It's time you realized you can't always get your way by laying down and spreading your legs." "No? It's worked pretty well so far. You're the only man so far who hasn't been..charmed. Maybe you're not as much man as I thought. Anyway," she added with a shrug. "Why change a plan that works?" "You haven't won anything. Don't you know that?" Tulane asked her in a more controlled tone. He sighed and wiped at the blood trickling down his chin. "You can manipulate men into doing what you want for awhile but sooner or later they'll catch on and when they do, you'll be the one being used. I don't think you'd like that very much." The weariness in his voice stung Taryn's pride even more than the deliberate insult he'd flung at her earlier. She bounced off the bed, hurriedly fastened the wrapper into place, then stalked past him toward the door. Turning in the doorway, she smiled evilly as she glared at him. "I wish I could say it's been a pleasant afternoon, Tulane," she said as coldly as she could manage. "But while it hasn't been exactly pleasant, it has been interesting. I won't forget it...and I'll never forgive it. No man tosses me aside like a pair of smelly socks. No man treats me the way you have and gets away with it. Having me for an enemy isn't a pleasant thing, Tulane, as you'll soon find out. "I had intended to let you ride away when this business with Wainwright is over, but I've changed my mind. You see, we're more alike than you think, Tulane. I always repay my debts...just like you do. I'll have to kill you now. What a pity!" She marched stiff-backed through the dark barn toward the brilliant sunlight, then halted at the sound of Tulane's firm, clear voice behind her. "Miss Fletcher, when you come at me you better give it all you've got because you being a woman won't stop me from killing you." Taryn's lips formed a snarl when she swung around to face him. Her eyes glittered with injured pride and thwarted desire. "I could expect no less from a man who killed his own wife, could I?" "No, ma'am, certainly not," Tulane assured her. "After that, killing a half-breed squaw hardly merits mentioning." Taryn glared at him with a wild combination of hatred and raw desire that made her black eyes gleam and her face twist into a mask of fury. "I'll

see you in hell, Tulane!" she screamed at him before whirling to run across the barnyard to the house. Behind her, Tulane wiped a bloody hand against his thigh and nodded with a grim smile. "I'm sure you will," he said softly as Taryn fled into the house. "It's just a matter of which one of us gets there first." CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE The tempting aroma of fresh apple pie greeted Taryn when she stormed into the house but she was too enraged to notice. Her mind boiled with a dozen savage ways to make Tulane pay for his cold rejection. Scalding tears burned her eyelids but she rubbed them away on the way through the house to throw herself across the bed and bury her face in her arms. Never had a man made her feel so unattractive, so cheap, so unworthy. Still, she reminded herself bitterly, it was those very qualities that pushed her to confront Tulane and literally throw herself at him. The man possessed some undeniable quality that excited her more than any man she had ever known, that made her determined to get under that hard shell he kept around himself. That resolved had not lessened with the episode just now in the barn, Taryn realized slowly. If anything, she was even more determined than before. Those few seconds after he'd returned her stinging slap, she had felt more passion roar through her veins than she'd ever experienced. It was exhilarating to finally meet a man who did not melt into a simpering buffoon in the face of her wrath. Perhaps there really was a man who was as strong as she, she decided with a sly smile while she wiped at her streaming eyes. Thank God! She had all but decided all men were as weak as Justin or as stupid as Fenton Elwood. The problem was that the one man who could tame her wild spirit wanted no part of her. Taryn's lips pursed thoughtfully while she considered her alternatives. A frontal attack had proven fruitless so she would have to develop some other plan, but what? It seemed the only woman Tulane was interested in was Katie Wainwright. How could she compete with a lady like Katie? Light footsteps outside the room brought Taryn from her thoughts with a start. She quickly sat up and tried to smooth her hair before Katie entered the room.

"Is anything wrong, Taryn?" Katie asked with a concerned expression when she saw the girl's red eyes. "Yes!" Taryn snapped. She climbed stiffly off the bed and began to hunt for her clothes. "I'm afraid I had to throw away your clothes. They were torn beyond repair. But Justin sent some things over last night after you were asleep. I'll get them for you," Katie said as she turned for the doorway, then changed her mind and turned back to Taryn. "Are you certain you're ready to leave, Taryn? You had a nasty accident. Some of those cuts haven't begun to heal. Perhaps you should stay another day or so just to be sure." "No!" Taryn shouted. "I can't wait to be away from here! I've had all of your syrupy smuck I can stand! Just get my clothes so I can get out of here!" Katie's lips tightened but she remained silent until she'd gathered Taryn's clothing and returned to the bedroom to place it on the foot of the bed. When she glanced again at Taryn's red nose and wild, tear-rimmed eyes, her expression softened. "People often dislike what they don't understand," she suggested quietly. Taryn stared at her silently for a second, then tossed her head with a snort. "Listen, I understand a helluva lot more than you think. I'm not stupid, you know. I know your husband spends more time in a whiskey bottle than he does in his precious wheat and I know why. I know you and Tulane are lovers, Lady Katherine," she said spitefully, feeling a surge of pleasure at the pain that flashed to Katie's pale face. "I wonder how Matt would take it if he was to learn just how friendly the two of you really are? How would you like that, Lady Katherine?" "Why do you call me that?" Katie asked. The puzzlement on her face pleased Taryn immensely, made her forget for the moment that Katie had neither confirmed nor denied her accusations. "Because you've got everything. You've got a family, a nice house, people like you, respect you...everything I don't have and never will." "You have a beautiful home, Taryn," Katie pointed out gently, feeling the pain behind the girl's harsh words. "And you have Justin.." "Justin!" Taryn snorted contemptuously while her eyes narrowed to black slits. "Let me tell you about Justin. My dear half brother has been forcing me to sleep with him since he raped me when I was twelve years old."

She waited for a shocked reaction and was surprised when Katie's facial expression did not change except for a compassionate softening around her lips. "That's not true, Taryn," she contradicted softly. "It was you that seduced Justin, not the other way around. He was drunk, very drunk when you slipped into his bed. He didn't realize what he'd done until much later, but by then you had him right where you wanted him; in the palm of your hand. "Justin's only crime is his weakness, Taryn. And you've used that weakness all these years, thrived on it because it gives you the upper hand." Taryn's mouth fell open in stunned astonishment. Several moments passed while she absorbed Katie's softly spoken statement, then she swallowed and stared wide-eyed at Katie's calm face. "How...how did you know that? Did Justin tell you that?" she managed to choke out finally. Katie shook her head. "No, of course not. Justin would never speak of such things. He's much too ashamed to tell anyone. How I know is not important, Taryn. I just know." "Do you also know that I can never have children?" Taryn asked in a small, shaky voice. Katie's assurance made her nervous, but the kindness she saw in the depths of Katie's eyes also warmed her strangely, made her anxious to confess this also. "Yes," Katie answered sadly. "I'm sorry, Taryn. I've watched you with Glenna. You're very good with children. I think you'd be a very good mother." "I was sixteen," Taryn said in a strange, muffled voice as she turned away to stare out the window. "I don't know who the father was. It could've been one of a half dozen men. It could've even been Justin's." A bitter laugh punctuated the brief silence before she shrugged. "I did the only thing I could think of. I went to my mother's people for help. I lost the baby all right. but I'll never be able to have another child. A high price to pay for a quick tumble, wouldn't you say?" Katie did not speak, but her heart went out to the girl. In spite of Taryn's sharp tongue and misplaced values, she sensed something good deep within the girl, and wondered if Taryn would ever allow that good to surface. "Anyway," Taryn was saying with more emotion. "Now you know why I envy you. And why I despise you." Her black eyes were once more narrowed contemptuously and bitterness had replaced the hollow ring of

despair in her voice. "I've had more than my share of men but I've never had one love me. But you, Lady Katherine, you've got more men in love with you than you can count. Your own husband, Tulane, even my own dear brother." "What makes you think Christopher is in love with me?" Taryn smiled thinly. "He's the kind of man who doesn't give away anything easily. He loved his wife, and he loves you. He'd never make love to a woman he didn't love. He did make love to you, didn't he? That night in the line shack during the storm?" Katie did not answer, but held Taryn's questioning stare silently. "You needn't bother answering. I saw it in his eyes earlier and I see the same thing in yours now." She smiled wickedly. "I wonder if Tulane regrets turning down Justin's offer. You know the one; to kill Matt? I must remember to ask him sometime." Katie started to speak, but something in Taryn's face stopped her. Turning, she saw Matt standing in the hallway just outside the room and knew he'd heard everything. She glanced back at Taryn, her lips tightening into thin lines at the triumph on the girl's face. When she looked back Matt was gone. She hurried from the room down the hall into the parlor, wondering what she'd say when she found him. Then he was in front of her, his face flushed with anger, his huge hands clenched into fists. "It's true, isn't it?" he demanded hoarsely before Katie could speak. "It's true! You and that...that killer...you're sleeping with him! Admit it, Katie. Aren't you?" A calmness spread through Katie's veins while she stared into her husband's furious face. She had feared this moment, but now that it had arrived she was no longer afraid. Lifting her head a bit higher, she returned Matt's piercing gaze evenly. "What would you have me say, Matthew? Would you have me deny it so you can continue suspecting me? Or would you have me admit it so you can have the satisfaction of being right?" "I want the truth, Goddamnit!" Matt roared. His ruddy complexion had turned almost purple with rage, the veins in his neck stood out like heavy ropes while he glared down at Katie. "The truth?" Katie repeated with a wry smile. "You don't want the truth, Matthew. You want to hear what will ease your mind...and your conscience. What will give you an excuse to dive back into that whiskey bottle that's become your escape."

The truth in her words pierced Matt's conscience, made him oblivious to his actions. He had struck her before he realized what he'd done, a single heavy blow to the face that spun Katie around into the doorjamb. Immediately Matt was sorry, horrified at what he'd done. He reached to take her into his arms, to make amends, and beg her forgiveness but Katie drew away. The point of impact with his huge hand was already swelling. Her right eye was beginning to darken and close. She drew herself upright and smoothed back the tumbled honey-beige mane that had fallen from the pins holding it atop her head, her eyes filled with sadness while they stabbed into Matt's anguished soul. "The man I married would never resort to violence to prove a point," she said softly. "This proves how far we've grown apart, doesn't it, Matthew? You're not the man I married, but I'm not the same woman either. I'm very sorry about that. It makes me very sad but I can't change it. Anymore than I can change what's happened between us. "If you wish, Matthew, I'll take the children and go back to Pittsburg. I can stay with my sister until I can find a place for us." Matt shook his head emphatically. His eyes filled with remorseful tears that began to spill down his unshaven face. "No, no, Katie, please. Don't even think about leaving. I can't make it without you. You're my whole life, all that keeps me going," he said wretchedly, wringing his hands. "In spite of Christopher?" Matt nodded while he forced himself to return Katie's cool, level stare. The sight of what he'd done made his stomach churn with disgust, but when he moved to comfort her, she again drew away. "Whatever's happened between you and Tulane is as much my fault as yours, Katie. I know that. Please, say you forgive me for this," he begged with a weak gesture toward her swelling face. "I didn't mean it. I'd do anything to take it back." Katie's eyes filled with compassion while they looked at one another. The misery in Matt's face tugged at her heart until she finally stepped forward to take him in her arms. Matt buried his face against her shoulder, sobbing openly now, while she gently smoothed his hair and crooned to him as if he was a child. Taryn slipped past them out of the house without even a backward glance. She didn't feel triumphant after having witnessed the violent confrontation. She felt confused and frightened, even a bit repentant for having blurted out her suspicions so that Matt had overheard. As she

hurriedly saddled the pony Justin had delivered for her, she wondered if the accident had left her addle-brained. For the first time the Wainwrights were suffering, but she felt no pleasure. She felt only regret. Tulane appeared just as she was leading the pony into the sunlight beyond the barn door before mounting. "You might want to check on Lady Katherine. Her husband just knocked the hell out of her," she called over her shoulder as she set her spurs to the horse. "See you around, Uncle Christopher," she added sarcastically as she rode away, leaning low over the animal's back and streaking across the prairie like an Indian. Matt was busily sharpening his scythe in the shadow of the barn when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. Thinking it was Dane returning with the pitcher of cool water he'd sent the boy for, he went on with his task without pause. Suddenly a hand gripped his shoulder and swung him around. Utter surprise covered his face for a moment when he recognized Tulane. A second later the gunman's fist crashed into his face, flattening his nose and sending a gush of blood down the front of his shirt. The blow staggered him, sent him sprawling backwards into the dust at Tulane's feet. For an instant Tulane stood over him clenching and unclenching his fists. Then with a visible effort to control himself, he squared his shoulders and swallowed. "If you dare to lift a hand to Katherine again, I'll kill you!" His voice was flat, unemotional. His handsome face was calm now. He was back in control of himself, but it was that very fact that sent a shiver of genuine fear through Matt's veins as he lay in the dirt. There was no mistaking Tulane's sincerity. The man was not making an idle threat. Matt could only nod in agreement before Tulane whirled on his heel and stalked away toward the barn entrance. Matt wiped at the blood pouring from his crushed nose and coughed. A second later he was vomiting in the dust, unsure whether it was the sight of his own blood that sickened him, or the cold, blind terror that paralyzed him. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Lyle Bingham checked his pocket watch for the third time in ten minutes. He surveyed the empty street, then looked again at the building across from his observation point. Judge Garret's office was located in a

white clapboard house next to the courthouse in Helena. It was a trim building that was well cared for. It was now nine o'clock. Time for the judge to be at work so Lyle hurried across the street and stepped onto the boardwalk. Pausing a moment before the solid oak door that bore the judge's shingle, he adjusted his cavalry hat and dusted off his trousers. It had been a long tiring ride with what seemed like a million stops. The only thing on Lyle's mind now was to have this business over with so he could check into the hotel down the street, have a hot bath and a few hours sleep before beginning the return trip. The door swung open with his knock. Immediately Lyle's hand went to the butt of his army revolver as he eased the door back and stepped silently inside. The office was lit by a lamp on the desk beneath the solitary window. It was obvious it had been burning all night for the oil was very low making the flame flicker and sputter. A heavy sigh broke from Lyle's lips as he dropped the pistol back into place and buttoned the holster. There was no point in trying to question Judge Garrett, he realized with a glance. "Good work, Jake," he said aloud with a weary shake of his head. "One shot, close range. Poor bastard never knew what hit him." Lyle pushed his hat to the back of his head and crossed his arms over his chest while he thought about what to do next. Then, twirling the ends of his moustache absently, he walked around the desk twice, his sharp eyes storing each detail for future reference. Judge Garrett was slumped over the expensive desk, face down in a pool of coagulated blood. His costly suit coat hung over the back of his chair, a half empty glass of brandy sat on the desk beside a stack of law books. A half-eaten sandwich indicated he had been working late when the fatal shot came. Lyle stroked his chin as he made another circle around the desk, then glanced around the room. The office was expensively furnished with silk curtains at the window. An imported Oriental rug covered the floor. The furniture Lyle recognized as Chippendale of the finest quality. The judge had expensive taste, Lyle thought to himself. It wasn't hard to figure out how he could afford such luxuries. Papers were strewn about in disarray, indicating a random search had been conducted after the killing. Lyle could only hope Jake Stoddard had not found what he was looking for. With Garrett dead, the only evidence of

collusion he could hope to find was some kind of written agreement, but it was unlikely that Jake would have overlooked evidence that important. While he stood staring at the dead man, the judge's hand slid off the desk top. Instead of dropping to the floor, the stiff fingers hung on a desk drawer and pulled it partially open. Lyle moved to close it with a sigh, then decided he might as well go through the desk. It was probably pointless for he felt sure Jake had thoroughly searched and destroyed any evidence he'd found, but there was nothing to lose at this stage. A few moments later Lyle grinned and whistled softly as he stood upright. He pushed the top drawer of the desk closed with his knee while he flipped through the gilt-edged ledger he'd accidentally found in a secret compartment beneath the top desk drawer. "Looks like you just couldn't resist keeping a tally, could you, Judge?" he said with a side-ways glance at the dead man. "Probably intended to do a bit of blackmailing of your own when the right opportunity came along. How fortunate for Matt Wainwright. Or maybe I should say, how unfortunate for Justin Fletcher." He snapped the ledger closed and tucked it securely under one arm as he crossed the office toward the door. Pausing in the doorway, Lyle tipped his hat to the dead man with a grim smile. "You've been a big help, Judge. Sorry I have to leave you like this but I'll make sure you're found right away. Right now I've got to explain all this to the sheriff and then get this ledger back to Breckenridge, and the sooner, the better. I just hope I get to be there when a US Marshal brings Jake in. I'd give a months pay to see the look on his face," he added with a humorless chuckle. All thoughts of a bath and a nap were gone as he hurried back across the street to find the sheriff's office. He could sleep on the train, he told himself cheerfully. It was surprising how seeing a mission successfully completed shook the cobwebs from a fellow's mind, he mused. As an afterthought, he stopped at the telegraph office to send a pair of telegrams before continuing on. One was to the US Marshal's office in Billings; the other to his commanding officer at Fort Lincoln. Two hours later he was settled on the train for the return trip, munching on a crisp red apple while he opened Judge Garret's ledger. It made fascinating reading. Matt breathed a great sigh of relief when Lyle placed the last court

order atop the stack on the table in front of him. It was late, but Lyle had decided to wake the family and give them the news rather than waiting until morning. "It's all there, Mr. Wainwright," he assured Matt solemnly, indicating the stack of documents with a nod. "The deeds have been recorded in Helena, all the paperwork is correct. In short, it's all yours. All legal. No more problems." "What's the catch, Lyle?" Lyle turned to glance at Tulane's dark face at the end of the table, then shifted uneasily, but there was no escape from those piercing gray-blue eyes that knew him so well. "No catch, Chris," he replied hastily, swinging his attention back to Matt at the opposite end of the table from Tulane. He paused until Katie had served the pot of steaming black coffee and pieces of her delicious apple pie before returning to the gunman's question. "This is great pie, Mrs. Wainwright. Best pie since the last time my wife made one," he told Katie with a big smile between bites. "Train food is really lousy, even worse than army food." "You're stalling, Lyle," Tulane reminded him softly. The kitchen was dimly lit. The shadows at Tulane's end of the table made him appear larger than life, menacing and dangerous even though he was relaxed while he sipped at the enamel cup of coffee while he studied his friend. "There'll be a Marshal from Billings here within a week," Lyle said to Matt. "He'll have murder warrants for Fletcher and Jake Stoddard so it's safe to say it's just about over. I wouldn't be surprised if Fletcher took off for Canada when he hears the news. As for Jake? I'll bet a years pay he won't be around when the Marshal gets here." He paused to sip at his coffee while he glanced uneasily at Tulane. "The only problem is that you'll be on your own until the Marshal gets here." "What do you mean?" Matt asked in alarm. "What about you? What about the army?" "Sorry, Mr. Wainwright. My unit has been recalled immediately to the fort. We're pulling out at dawn." He shrugged apologetically. "I've got my orders. There's nothing else I can do." "Indian trouble?" Tulane asked from the shadows. Lyle nodded and twirled his moustache absently. "Yes, Sioux outbreak in the Black Hills. Looks like we're in for a long siege of it.

General Custer's orders don't leave room for argument, Chris. But I'm sure you can keep Jake on a leash until the law gets here." Tulane got up from the table and walked away. Pausing in the archway between the kitchen and the parlor, he felt three pairs of eyes staring into his back. Swinging around, he glanced at Matt, his lips tightening when the big man looked quickly away. No matter what the occasion, Matt could not hold his gaze these days, he thought grimly. He avoided the open curiosity in Lyle Bingham's sparkling blue eyes as his gaze swung to Katie. Instantly there was a softening of his features that made his eyes warm, turn to silver in the pale light. Katie's hair was flowing loose around her shoulders. She sat beside Matt, gripping a coffee cup so tightly her knuckles had paled. Wearing a wrapper over her nightgown, barefooted, she looked like a little girl in the soft light that cast a golden glow over her face while she returned Tulane's steady, unblinking stare. "If Fletcher's going to make a move, he'll make it now, before a Marshal can get here," he said thoughtfully, watching the raw fear that leaped into Matt's eyes before he licked nervously at his lips and glanced away. "That's how I see it," Lyle agreed. "Those deeds aren't worth a damn if the men holding them are dead. I figure Fletcher has no choice but turn Jake loose and hope for the best." There was a sharp intake of Matt's breath at the end of the table. Tulane looked at him, noted the quiver in the man's lips, the tremor in the brawny hand that held his coffee cup. A small snort of disgust erupted from his throat before he could contain it at the white, sickly pallor that had replaced the color in Matt's face. "It'll be up to you to stop him, Chris." Tulane didn't answer, but stood quietly watching Matt for some sign of compliance. As much as he wanted to get away from this place and Matt's display of cowardice, he knew he could not simply walk away and leave the man at Jake's mercy. Jake had no mercy. He couldn't do that to Katie and the children, but it had to be Matt's decision. Matt glanced at Katie, then back to Tulane's impassive face and licked at his lips again. Slowly he gave a barely perceptible nod while he forced his eyes to hold with Tulane's across the room. "If you'll stay, Tulane, see this through until the Marshal gets here, I'll never ask anything more of you." When Tulane hesitated, he swallowed "Will you stay?" Tulane's gaze shifted to Katie's face. Her bright blue eyes locked

with his, making a silent, emphatic plea. With a heavy sigh, Tulane shrugged as his hand dropped to the butt of the .45 on his hip. "I don't have much choice, do I?" he grunted wearily. "It means having to kill him, maybe Justin Fletcher too. I don't want any complaints if it comes to that." "Maybe it won't come to that," Lyle offered hopefully. He stared first at Tulane, then Matt, trying to figure out just what was going on. There was so much more being said in this room than what he was hearing voiced. Damn, he thought impatiently. I wish I knew just what the devil it is I'm missing out on here! "It will come to that." Lyle's surprised gaze swung to Katie's calm face as he wondered how she could be so certain, for there was no room for doubt in either her voice or the calmness of her features. "Do what you have to do, Chris," Lyle said finally to break the uneasy silence. He rose from the table and picked up his hat. "And watch yourself. You know what a crafty reptile Jake can be. He knows if he's going to get Wainwright or the others that he'll have to come through you. He'll be ready. Make sure you are, my friend." Tulane nodded, then moved through the dark, cool house to push open the door and exit ahead of Lyle. Outside in the clear Montana night, Lyle laid a friendly hand on his arm as they walked through the yard. "Chris, when this is over, come by the fort, talk to the general. You just might change your mind about the army. Think about it, will you?" A smile lit up Tulane's features at the concern on Lyle's face. He extended his hand to grip Lyle's in a firm handshake when they halted in the moonlight. "Give Melinda my best, Lyle, and take care of yourself. This Sioux trouble could be bad news." Lyle sighed, knowing Tulane did not intend to comment on his suggestion. "Any Indian trouble is bad news but the 7th is the best fighting unit in the army, Chris. Nothing for you to worry about. There hasn't been an Indian war chief born that can out-think or out-fight General Custer." Tulane did not comment so Lyle glanced at him critically as they began walking toward the bivouac area beyond the barn. "What will you do, Chris, when this is finally over?" "Get as far away from here as I possibly can." "And Katie Wainwright?" "I doubt I can ever get far enough away to be free of Katherine

Wainwright. I'm not even sure I want to be free of her. But.." he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That choice has already been made." Lyle wisely chose not to comment farther on the subject. After a last goodnight he stepped back and saluted, grinning at the surprise that sprang to Tulane's face at the gesture. "Permission to say goodnight, Major Tulane, sir!" "Goodnight, Lyle," Tulane replied with a grim smile. "It won't work, you know. I'm through with the army." Lyle's hand dropped to his side while he watched Tulane from the corner of his eyes. "You never know, Chris. People change." He strode off toward his tent without giving Tulane a chance to respond. Tulane watched until Lyle disappeared into his tent, then reached into his vest pocket and withdrew the gold oak leaves he had placed there days before. They shimmered in the pale moonlight when he turned them over in the palm of his hand. "Some people never change, Lyle," he said aloud while he studied the major's insignias. "It's too late for me to change...me and Jake...we're two of a kind. That's why one of us has to die. Wonder which one it'll be?" he mused with a sardonic grin as he turned to retrace his steps to the barn's entrance. "Maybe we'll kill each other," he said with a low chuckle as he dropped the oak leaves back into his vest pocket. "Wouldn't that be a perfect ending? Poetic justice...sure would surprise Jake though..." CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE Katie approached the abandoned line shack warily, riding around it completely before dismounting and going inside to wait. Taking off her hat and gloves, she scanned the dark interior of the small cabin while tapping the gloves nervously against her thigh. She wondered if Justin would come, if he had even received the message she had managed to send him via one of his cowhands she had seen in town after church the previous day. A bead of perspiration popped up on her forehead with the memory of how close Matt had come to discovering the note she had sent Justin asking for this meeting. Then a bitter snort bubbled from her throat. Matt had changed so much in the past few weeks. He might not have any objections to her meeting with Justin to plead with him for an end to this trouble.

Indeed, he might even welcome the gesture but it was a chance she had chosen not to take. The night after Lyle Bingham informed them of the final court decision in their behalf, she had lain awake the remainder of the night trying to find a way to prevent the final blood-bath she knew was close at hand. It was inevitable. Justin had nothing to lose now. In a matter of days a Marshal was going to appear with a warrant for his arrest. If he was convicted of the murder of Edward Dewey he would be hanged. What Lyle Bingham and Tulane said made sense; if Justin was ever going to try to kill Matt, he'd do it now. Katie's inner voice told her there was no time to lose. Matt's life, perhaps Tulane's as well, was at stake. If there was any chance she could persuade Justin to stop this madness, she had to take it. One thing she knew for certain; if anyone could change Justin's mind it would be her. Taryn was right; Justin did love her. Perhaps he even loved her enough to let go of whatever evil plans he had if she approached him right. She prayed that she would have the right words to persuade him. She made another circle around the small cabin, before halting in front of the fireplace. A tiny smile touched her lips as the memory of that evening before the cheery fire here the night of the storm came unbidden to mind. Then her face sobered when she lifted a shaky hand to gently explore the dark puffiness around her right eye. The swelling was mostly gone now, but the bruise lingered as a constant reminder of that awful morning a few days before. As hurt and angry as she'd been with Matt then, she felt only concern now. Or was it pity, she asked herself wearily. Whatever love she'd felt for him was gone. She'd forced herself to face that painful fact. Her love had been crushed under the weight of Matt's self-pity, his sullenest during the past weeks, and finally his brutal treatment of her physically. It wasn't merely the blow that left her eye black and the side of her face swollen, it was the cruel demands he'd been making in bed for weeks as well. A wry, sad smile parted her lips again. At least that had come to a halt after he'd struck her. She didn't know if it was because of his guilt for having hurt her or if it was because he knew about her relationship with Tulane, but whichever it was, she was thankful for the respite. Her brows drew into a thoughtful scowl when she thought about Tulane's reaction that morning when he'd stormed into the house to find her crying. He had not said a word, just took her face in one hand and stared at

the swelling bruise around her eye. Then he'd whirled about and practically ran from the house in search of Matt. She had known he would not kill Matt. Whatever he had done had certainly put Matt on his best behavior since. He had not taken a single drink since that morning. He had begun to clean up and take care of himself again, even show signs of returning to the kind, loving man she had married. She shook her head slowly. But it was too late. Her love for him was gone. She did not believe she would ever find it again. She could not love a man she did not respect...but he was her husband...she would remain with him...no matter.. A tiny smile warmed her face at the memory of Tulane's face when he held her chin in his hand and saw what Matt had done. Without uttering a sound he had told her more with his eyes than Matt had said to her in twelve years of marriage. More love, more concern. More fury, she added silently, remembering the white-hot rage that had spread through him at the sight of her swollen face. In those few seconds she saw what others had seen, the danger, the deadly cold intent that made men cringe and slink away to hide. But Katie had not been afraid. She knew Tulane would never turn that sinister part of him loose on her. He loved her; he would never harm her. That thought warmed her heart, made her lips curl in a smile. Then it faded when she heard a horse approaching. It would be Justin. Moments later Justin swept into the cabin. He removed his hat, pitched it onto the narrow cot, and looked around the room suspiciously. When he realized she was alone a smile warmed his handsome face. "Well, Katie, I'm here like you asked. I have to admit that I'm rather surprised. Am I to understand that Matt knows nothing about this meeting?" Katie nodded nervously as she stepped back. Justin's nearness in the small room made her feel trapped, made her breath labored and her palms sweat. For a moment she doubted the wisdom of asking Justin for this meeting. Where was her second sense when she needed it most, she wondered fearfully. Her intuition was sporadic at best and lately even more infrequent than usual so that now as she stared anxiously into Justin's curious face she got no impression at all. Not a clue as to what he would say when she stated her business. She felt alone and frightened, not realizing it showed in her eyes. Justin's features sobered instantly when he realized how upset she was. His eyes warmed with tenderness as he took her arm to propel her to

the cot. Sitting down amid the creaking protest of rusty springs, he pulled Katie down beside him, then turned to look into her face. "Katie, tell me what this is about. It's obvious you're upset," he said gently. He lifted one hand to cautiously touch the bruised swelling around her eye. "What happened to your face?" he demanded gruffly. "Nothing, Justin. I bumped into something, that's all. I've been so clumsy lately." "Bumped into something?" Justin jeered. His eyes narrowed when Katie looked away, refusing to return his direct stare. "I'll bet! Something like that big baboon's fist?" Katie forced herself to look at him, swallowing to find her voice. Placing a calmer hand on Justin's arm, she looked straight into his angry face and managed a tiny smile. "I didn't ask you to meet me here, Justin, to discuss my martial problems. I asked you here to ask you to stop this insanity before any more blood is spilled." Disappointment flashed through Justin's face. He rose abruptly from the cot to walk away, facing the open door of the shack that was hanging at a crazy angle by one rusted hinge. "I see," he said finally. His shoulders squared under the expensive black suit. Then he turned to face her, standing stiffly with both hands hanging rigidly at his sides. His white ruffled shirt was accented by a black string tie with a diamond clip, the cuffs peeking from beneath the jacket sleeves fastened with diamond cuff links. The black calf skin boots gleamed, showing a reflection of his tense face. "You want to beg for your husband's life." The words were harsh, like an accusation. It took Katie a few moments to know how to respond. When she did, she got to her feet, approached Justin and standing before him, looked up into his pale, handsome face, then lifted her hands in a futile gesture. "In essence, yes." Justin snorted scornfully, his hands moving upward to hook in the wide leather gunbelt around his waist. Katie noted the movement with surprise, then raised concerned eyes back to his face. "I've never known you to wear a gun, Justin. Isn't that proof enough that it's time to end this?" "You simply amaze me, Katie," Justin said. His voice was softer now, his eyes warmer. "Do you really think it's that simple? That I can just snap my fingers and call this whole thing off?" Without waiting for a reply, he shook his head with a slight, tense smile. "I'm afraid it's much more complicated than that. I know that a US Marshal is on his way here to arrest

me, Katie. I know that I'm being charged with Edward Dewey's murder and if convicted I'll hang. My back is to the wall. Everything I own, everything I stand for, even my very life is at state here. How can you expect me to throw down my gun and say 'Here I am, come take me'?" "What if the charges were dropped against you?" Katie suggested hopefully. "You haven't actually killed anyone, Justin. You could say you weren't aware of what Jake Stoddard was planning." "Who would believe that? I hired Jake; whatever he's done has been done with my permission." "Have you always known what he was going to do in advance?" Justin shook his head. "No, not always but it doesn't matter, Katie. I hired the man. I'm responsible for what he's done. What you're suggesting is that I plead not guilty and pin all the blame on Jake, right?" Following her nod, he grinned ruefully and shook his head again. "Nobody would believe a story like that." "Tulane has great influence, Justin. He can persuade people to drop the charges against you. I'm sure of it." Surprise arched Justin's brows. "I'm aware how much influence the man has. He did, after all, persuade the US Army to intervene on your behalf, didn't he? But what makes you think he would agree to help me?" "He will if I ask him." Katie's statement was simple, calm. She saw the surprise on Justin's face but looked away quickly before her eyes could reveal more than she intended. "I see," Justin grunted. His voice was cold, bitter. He turned away momentarily to look out the door again. "Taryn told me how things were between you and Tulane but I didn't believe her. Seems she was telling the truth for once." "My relationship with Tulane is not the issue. My point is that it's possible to get the charges dropped against you, Justin. What would be your response to that?" Justin turned back to face her with a weary sigh. "I suppose you'd like me to say that I would drop all future plans to retake the land." Katie made no effort to answer, but kept her gaze locked with his in a honest, direct stare that Justin admired. "I can't make a promise like that, Katie. In the first place, you'd never get the charges dropped because there's too much evidence to the contrary and second, it would be backing down and I never back down, Katie. It's something I learned from my father. "So it seems that my only option is to make good use of the day or

two that I've got left," he went on with a stubborn expression that chilled Katie's blood. "If I'm going down, I won't go alone. I fully intend to take down the man responsible for my downfall." "Meaning Matthew?" "Yes," Justin answered honestly while he returned her unblinking gaze. The pain that filled her beautiful face sent a stab of remorse through his heart. Hurting Katie was the one thing he regretted, the one thing he felt guilty about. "Justin, please, I'm begging you." One trembling hand lifted to wipe away the stream of tears that had begun to fall down her pale cheeks. "Please don't harm Matthew. You don't realize what these past weeks have done to him. He's not the same man who challenged your claim to the land. He's completely lost his confidence..." "And his courage," Justin cut in harshly. "Taryn told me what a change has come over him. He's turned into a drunken, cowardly bully. He's mistreated you badly," he said with an impatient gesture toward her bruised face. "Yet you beg me to spare him? What has a man like that done to deserve you, Katie?" His voice softened. A warm, sincere glow lit his eyes as he reached to caress her cheek. "Don't you know that I'd kill to have you feel that deeply about me?" Katie felt her cheeks warm as she pulled back beyond Justin's reach. His hand fell limply to his side with a sigh. "There's only one way I'll ever agree to spare him, Katie. I think you know what that is." Katie stared at him suspiciously, then her eyes widened as she realized what he meant. She shook her head emphatically while her slender shoulders squared stubbornly. "Don't ask me that, Justin. Don't ask me to compromise myself, not even for Matthew's life. It isn't fair." "Is it fair that he has you?" Justin challenged as his eyes narrowed. "Is it fair that he goes to bed with you every night? That you've had his children? Don't talk to me about being fair!" "He's my husband, Justin. Perhaps he isn't the man I thought he was, but that's partially my fault. I'm asking you to spare his life, Justin. If you truly love me as you claim, you'll grant me this one request. It's all I'll ever ask of you. Please don't harm him." Justin swallowed and looked away. For a few moments the only sound in the room was Katie's muffled sobs. Then he turned back to place both hands on her shoulders. "Jesus, Katie, do you have any idea how it tears me apart to see you

cry? I'd do anything for you. There's no request I wouldn't break my back to fulfill, but you're asking me to give up everything without even a fight. "Isn't it enough that I'm going to lose my ranch? Do I give you up too without so much as a struggle?" "I'm not yours to give up, Justin. I'm married to Matthew. I've been married to him for twelve years. I have two small children to raise. How will I do that without him? Think about what you're doing to me, Justin. If you kill Matthew, you kill me. Is that what you want?" "Of course not, Katie," Justin said defensively. "I could offer to take care of you and the children but I know that would be foolish. You could never care about me if I cause Matt's death. I understand that, but I lose you either way. So I've got nothing to lose, do I? "You'll never come to me if I kill him and if I let him live I'll spend the rest of my life, however long that may be, knowing he's got you. Given my alternatives, I'll go to the gallows with the knowledge that I've kept Matt Wainwright from having both my land and the woman I love." He moved past her and reached for his hat. Katie stood frozen in place for a second while she slowly realized that Justin was determined to see Matt dead. Then she clutched at his sleeve while her eyes pleaded with him. "Justin, don't! For God's sake, don't kill him! If you care for me, don't do this!" A sad, weary smile curled Justin's lips as he reached to brush a tear from her cheek. "I do love you, Katie. You know that, you always known it. Don't you see that I'm doing this for you too?" Katie's confused face sent a great wave of tenderness through him. "Don't you realize that with him out of your life you'll be free to find a man who deserves you? Someone who can give you the kind of life you deserve. "You're so beautiful, Katie. And so good. Even to Taryn after all the terrible things she's done. You're too good for him; too good for me. Someday you'll see that I'm right, Katie. Someday you'll understand that it's because I do love you that I have to kill him." "That's the same kind of warped logic that lets you rationalize sleeping with your half-sister!" Katie snapped. She jerked away from his touch as she faced him rigidly, her face flushed with anger, her eyes flashing. "I know she tricked you years ago and I know she's used this...this sick need of yours against you ever since but it's wrong, Justin. You know it's wrong, yet you can't stop yourself, can you? "Don't you understand that this compulsion to kill Matthew is that

same kind of sickness? You want what you can't have so you want to destroy it, but in doing so you destroy the thing you profess to love. That's not love, Justin. That's childish and immature...and cruel! Love is wanting that person to be happy. Don't you know that I'll never be happy again if you kill my husband? "Think about someone else for a change instead of yourself. Please, Justin, don't do this!" Justin stared at her silently as her words sank into his mind. How she had learned his shameful secret he would probably never understand. Only he and Taryn knew about their sordid relationship and he knew Taryn would never relinquish her power over him by revealing their secret to anyone else. But was Katie right? Was his desire to see Matt dead the same kind of sick weakness? He walked past her onto the crumbling porch of the shack and placed his hat on the back of his head as he caught up the reins of the snow-white Arabian tied to the rotting hitch rail. Mounting quickly, he swung the stallion around, but paused a moment to study Katie's weeping, mournful face. She clung to the doorjamb as though her legs could not be trusted to support her, her eyes streaming bitter tears. "Whether you believe me or not, Katie, I do love you," he said solemnly. "I'll admit I don't know a lot about the emotion. Never had much chance to learn. But if loving somebody means giving up what is most important to you in order to make that person happy, then believe that I love you. I'll think about what you've said." Without waiting for her to reply, he swung the big horse around and spurred him off toward the ranch. Behind his disappearing figure, Katie wiped at her eyes and hiccuped miserably. Justin said he'd think about it, but she felt sure he would not change his mind. God, where was her ability when she needed it? Why couldn't she tell what Justin was planning? It might mean the difference between Matt's living or dying. Sobs ripped through her body as she turned back into the cabin. Hurrying across the dusty floor, she hurled herself across the narrow cot to bury her face in her arms, sobbing wretchedly. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Katie did not know how long she lay weeping on the uncomfortable

cot, but several minutes had passed when she suddenly raised upright and wiped her eyes. A horse was approaching the cabin. As he came nearer, her heart filled with renewed hope. Justin had come back! He had reconsidered and was returning to tell her! She bolted from the cot and ran to the door. Then her eyes widened with shock. It was not Justin dismounting to tell her he had decided to spare Matt's life. "Were you expecting a repeat visit from Justin Fletcher?" Tulane asked as he tossed the reins over the crumbling hitch rail and walked onto the porch. "Sorry to disappoint you, but he headed straight for his ranch." Katie stared at him, speechless. He was the last person she expected to see. The annoyed expression on his face brought a flush to Katie's cheeks when she realized he was very angry and trying to control his temper. "Have you been following me?" she asked indignantly as she drew herself up stoutly and returned his icy glare. "Yes. I saw you ride away from the house so I followed you to make sure Jake Stoddard wasn't lurking somewhere in the underbrush. I'm supposed to be protecting you, remember? That's a little hard to do when I don't know what you're up to half the time. I don't have your ability to "know" things, Katherine. I have to do it the old fashioned way...by watching and listening." The sarcastic ring in his voice puzzled Katie, brought another flush to her cheeks. She could not seem to find her voice while they stared at one another on the rotting porch. She could only look into the unending parade of colors passing through his eyes and nervously note the tic of tense muscles in his lean cheeks. Tulane broke that mesmerizing contact by walking past her into the dark cool interior of the shack and glancing around. He took off his hat and smoothed the worn brim methodically without looking at her again after she followed him inside. Katie noted the gesture but knew it was because he was at a loss to have something to do with his hands. It made her wonder what he was thinking, what had really brought him here. "Well, did Justin Fletcher agree to your proposal?" he asked without looking at her. "What?" Katie asked, surprised by his perception. Tulane swung around to face her. His handsome face was tense, the blue-gray eyes stony. "You heard me. That's why you arranged a meeting with him, wasn't it? To plead for your husband's life?" "Why should that surprise you, Christopher? I hoped to persuade him

to give up this hopeless struggle without more bloodshed. I failed." "Whose blood are you worried about, Katherine? Surely not Matt's. I told you I'd protect him and I will. There's no reason for you to doubt that." Katie's face clearly showed her surprise. Her widened, her mouth opened to speak, but worked soundlessly for a moment, then she stepped forward with the intention of touching Tulane's arm. "I don't doubt you, Christopher," she assured him, wondering why he pointedly avoided her outstretched hand. A puzzled frown crossed her face as a flash of pain darted into her eyes. "Why should I? You've given me no reason to doubt you." A soft, bitter chuckle floated from his lips. He tossed the hat aside, then hooked his thumbs in the worn gunbelt at his waist while he studied her puzzled features. "You're either incredibly naive or incredibly stupid, Katherine," he told her softly. "The thought of killing Matt myself or letting Jake do it crosses my mind a lot lately. That shouldn't surprise you. Six months ago, even three months ago I would've just killed him without blinking for what he did to you." "Three months ago you were different, Christopher. You've changed since you've been with us. Changed for the better." "I don't agree." "That's because you view it as weakness. It's not, Christopher. Showing compassion for someone who's not as strong as yourself is never weak. It's a good quality. When you came to us, you were filled with bitterness and pain. You didn't believe you'd ever be able to feel anything again. You believed you were empty inside. You know now that's not true." "Do you think that's a blessing?" Tulane snapped. "I sure as hell don't! It's messing up my thinking, the way I look at things. I don't like it! I like things cut and dried and simple. Things aren't simple anymore." "Life is never simple, Christopher. It isn't supposed to be." Tulane didn't like the turn this conversation was taking any more than he liked the way his blood had begun to sing because of Katie's nearness. He moved another step away to find himself facing the fireplace. Immediately his brain blazed with the memories of the night he had spent here with Katie during the storm. Those memories made his palms begin to sweat, made his breath labored, his chest feel tight. "Why didn't you make love to Taryn the other day?" Katie asked behind him. She knew it was a foolish question but she could not resist hearing the answer.

Tulane turned in surprise. After a silent moment he shrugged and turned away again, reaching down to poke at the half-burned logs in the cold fireplace. "That girl is crazy. She thinks the answer to all her problems can be found on her back." Katie smiled in spite of herself at the scorn in his voice. She wondered if Taryn's bold direct attack didn't have more to do with his rejection than he realized. Tulane was a strong man but he felt uneasy trying to deal with other people's feelings, even more uneasy trying to deal with his own. "She's a very troubled young woman. She's had a difficult life...being torn between two worlds...it hasn't been easy for her." "I don't want to talk about Taryn Fletcher or her problems," Tulane said as he rose and turned to face Katie squarely. "I want to talk about why you felt you had to beg Justin Fletcher for Matt's life." "He's my husband," Katie replied, hoping Tulane didn't notice the way her hands had started to tremble. Her knees felt weak as though they would no longer hold her up. Her tongue felt thick, making it difficult to speak. She wondered frantically when Tulane was going to realize what was happening between them. Here they stood talking politely about everything except what was really on both their minds, but she felt helpless to change the direction they were going. Whatever was going to happen would happen in spite of anything she might do. She suddenly knew that she wanted it to happen, was praying it would happen. "I hoped to make Justin see the futility of what he was doing. You see, I know how Justin feels...about me, I mean. I thought that might sway him," she heard herself stammering. She wished she could look away from that hypnotizing sparkle in his eyes, but it was useless. Tulane's gaze held hers spellbound from across the narrow room. "I'm sure Fletcher made a counter proposal," Tulane said sarcastically. "Didn't he say he would agree to let Matt off the hook in return for certain...how shall I phrase it...concessions...on your part?" A grim, humorless smile curled his lips at the astonishment that flooded Katie's face. "I thought so. You, of course, declined his offer." "Of course!" Katie said, her eyes blazing with anger that he would think she might even consider Justin's proposal. "I will not be blackmailed into becoming Justin's ..strumpet! And he had a lot of nerve to even suggest that I might! Not even for Matt's life!" "So Justin still intends to eradicate Matt before the law catches up with him?"

His eyes gleamed with amusement at Katie's indignant response to his statement. She was so beautiful it made his mind buzz. Dressed in comfortable pants and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, her hair braided into one long honey-beige coil that hung down her back, her cheeks pink with indignation, she was so desirable he felt an immediate tightening in his groin. "I'm afraid so." "That means Jake will be on the loose. I wonder if I shouldn't just go over there and call the bastard out and get it over with?" Tulane said more to himself than to Katie. "It would save some time at least. No point in putting it off. We both know it's inevitable." "No!" Katie exclaimed, springing forward to catch his arm. "Don't! It's possible that Jake will take off before the Marshal gets here." "You don't know Jake," Tulane said with a wry smile. "He knows as well as I that one of us won't walk away this time. There's too much history between us. One of us has to die." Alarm leaped into Katie's eyes as she clutched his arm. For a long moment they stood staring at each other in silence, then Tulane shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Katie came to her senses and moved away, letting her hand drop to her side. "I'm sorry that it seems to be dropped onto your shoulders, Christopher," she said uneasily. "I know how you dislike having to protect Matthew now. I know how angry and disappointed you are with his behavior the past few weeks." "It's part of the job," Tulane snapped. Then his eyes narrowed contemptuously. "How could you bring yourself to plead for a man who has treated you so badly? How could you humiliate yourself like that? Hasn't Matt done enough to you without that?" "He's my husband, Christopher," Katie repeated quietly as she averted her eyes. How could she feel such excitement and such guilt at the same time, she wondered frantically. Only minutes before she had been weeping her heart out because she was unable to persuade Justin to forget his plans to kill her husband and now the only thing she could think of was how much she wanted Tulane to take her in his arms. How badly she needed to feel the touch of his lips on hers, the satiny strength of his bare skin against hers. "Whatever Matthew's done has been partially my fault. He struck me out of frustration because I guess he didn't know what else to do. He was hurt and angry and helpless." "He'll never know how close I came to killing him!"

A tiny smile touched Katie's mouth at the vehemence in his voice. "But you didn't kill him, Christopher. You wanted to, but you didn't because of me...because of your feelings for me. I knew you wouldn't." Tulane's eyes blazed liquid fire when he captured her gaze. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his lean tanned face was strained with tension. "Goddamnit! Katherine! Stop telling me what I feel.! You don't know shit about how I feel! I don't even know myself. "I know only one thing with absolute certainty and that is that I wish to God I had never answered Justin Fletcher's letter and come here! It's been nothing but trouble since the day I first saw you in that store. I took one look at you and I haven't been able to think straight since!" Katie was surprised by the anguish in his voice, even more surprised when he turned away in uncharacteristic avoidance of her eyes. He stood with his broad shoulders rigid beneath the black leather vest, his hands resting on the fireplace mantel, his feet spread slightly apart as he leaned forward. "I've tried to leave a dozen times," he said after a momentary pause. His voice was calmer now, almost resigned, as though the inner struggle was over and he had lost. "I've saddled up and ridden out of this valley time and again but something always makes me come back. It's crazy but I can't seem to get a handle on it. "I know Fletcher's bound to try to take Matt down with him. Hell, I even understand why. I feel the same way. Yet I know Matt's problem better than most men could. He's scared, really scared. I know all about that. Fear has a way of growing bigger and bigger until it consumes you. Until the fear itself gets so big it overshadows what you started out being afraid of. "Matt's afraid of dying, afraid of what he's becoming, of what he's already done, afraid of losing you. Hell, he's even afraid of being afraid. But until he can face up to his own fear, things won't get any better. "But he can't face up to Jake Stoddard. So that just leaves me now that the army is gone. It leaves me to protect a man when everything in me wants to kill him myself...for the most basic of reasons...I want his wife." He gave a snort of self contempt and shook his head. "So you tell me, Katherine, just how the hell should I feel?" Katie was silent for a moment as a silent thrill of pleasure sang through her veins. This was the closest Tulane had come to revealing the depth of his emotions for her, even to himself, and as much as she knew it was better left unsaid, it made her heart take flight."The one thing you

should not feel is guilty, Christopher," she said gently to his back. "You've begun to care again. You've discovered that you're still capable of very deep feelings." "I should be thankful for that?" Tulane snorted without looking around. He leaned his back and let out a deep sigh of regret. "I was better off not feeling anything than what I feel now for another man's wife. I must be losing my mind completely to stay around when I know how this is all going to end." "How is it going to end, Christopher?" "Me or Jake is going to kill the other. If Jake wins then it's all settled anyway and if I win then I have to shake Matt's hand, tell him it's been a real pleasure and ride off to the next rancher that needs a fast gun. "Either way, Matt keeps you. But then, that's the way it's supposed to be, isn't it? Happy endings and all that?" Katie ignored the sarcasm in his voice as she walked unsteadily across the room to lean her head in the middle of his back and interlace her fingers across his chest. She felt his body stiffen at her touch, knew he was fighting a battle with his emotions, but her need for him was stronger than her common sense. "I can't leave him, Christopher, you know that," she whispered with her cheek against the cool leather of his vest. "I'm his wife. He needs me now more than ever. If I left him now it would finish destroying him. I can't do that. I've hurt him enough already." "I know." "But that doesn't change one small detail." She felt Tulane stiffen while he waited for her to finish the thought. "I love you, Christopher." "Don't say that, Katherine," Tulane commanded in a strained, ragged tone. "Don't even think it." "It's too late. You see, Christopher, I'm not like you. I can't build a wall around my emotions to keep out what is painful or what I don't want to feel. It's there; I can't change it. I don't want to change it. It's really very simple. I love you." Katie felt, rather than heard, the ragged moan that began deep in his chest, then surged upward through his body as he turned to gather her into his arms. The breath left her lungs with a gasp at the intensity of his embrace, but Katie's arms leaped upward to wind around his neck, her fingers pressing into his hair to bend his head downward so she could find his lips. The cold metal buckle on his gunbelt cut into her flesh but she was

hardly aware of it. Her mind reeled with the passion that swept through her like wildfire. Her body molded to his, her hands moved down his shoulders, caressing, exploring his back, his hips. Days and nights of pent-up need came boiling out of her as their kiss deepened with intensity. Their tongues began a sensual dance that left Katie dizzy and breathless. She was only scarcely aware that he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the cot. She was only aware that they were both somehow undressed, that she was curled in his arms, cradled against the raw power of his body. Tulane kissed her slowly, savoring her mouth. His lips cut short Katie's muffled love words, replacing them with low moans of pleasure. Her body arched to meet the delightful exploring of his hands, began to undulate when his fingers slipped inside her. There was a new intensity to their lovemaking now. Something more primitive, more exciting than ever before. Their bodies sought new ways to please the other until Katie's blood sizzled inside her veins. Katie was no longer shy about touching his body. In fact she now took great pleasure in stroking his manhood for she knew what pleasure it gave him. The soft moans that passed from his throat increased Katie's own pleasure to a fevered pitch as she rose on one elbow to take his rock hard erection in her mouth. She was astonished at her boldness. She had never touched a man this way, never even considered the possibility, but with Tulane it seemed a natural thing to do. Lifting her eyes to watch his face while she stroked his throbbing flesh with her mouth, she saw his eyes turn silver with the depth of his emotions. She gave a short moan of protest when he raised up to lift her off him. Then she relaxed in his arms, smiling delightfully when he moved slowly down the length of her body with his lips, kissing, teasing, sucking gently until she was certain her bones would burst through her skin with desire. Never had she felt more desirable, more passionate than when he slipped between her thighs to begin nuzzling at her soft blond mound. Her gasp of shock swiftly became whimpers, then moans of delight when his tongue replaced his fingers inside her. Katie's back arched upward, her fingers entwining in his thick hair, her breathing becoming labored gasps from the wondrous new sensations he brought to life within her. She had heard of this form of lovemaking but never dreamed it could be so electrifying that all reason left her. She heard herself begging him to enter her and quell the roaring

inferno that totally consumed her now, then sighed with relief when his powerful body moved inside her. Her nails dug into his shoulders as their bodies began a slow, rhythmic climb to a final shattering ecstasy that left her mind in a state of euphoric dreaminess she wished would last forever. When sanity returned, her eyes opened to find Tulane watching her with a satisfied smile. He pulled her closer into his embrace, cradling her head in the hollow of his shoulder, and gently kissed her quivering lips again. "You are the most magnificent woman, Katherine Wainwright," he whispered in an awe-filled voice that made Katie's heart soar. "You are so beautiful it makes me breathless sometimes. I can't believe you're real." Katie snuggled deeper into his arms and laid one hand on his chest, feeling the wild pounding of his heart slowly return to normal. It was so safe here in his arms, so easy to forget any other world existed outside this magical place. A long time passed in peaceful silence while they lay close together. In time the sweat dried from their bodies giving way to a chill in the air that made Tulane realize the sun was swiftly setting. With a regretful sigh he disentangled himself from Katie's arms and began to dress. Katie lay quietly watching as he buckled the heavy gunbelt into place and tied it down. She couldn't help the tiny shiver of apprehension that went through her at the sight of the deadly weapon and looked up to find him watching her thoughtfully. Extending his hand to her, Tulane forced a tight smile. "It's time to go, Katherine. The children will be worried...so will Matt," he added as an afterthought. "I don't want to leave here...ever," Katie whispered while trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "I wish it could be this way always." "But it can't," Tulane reminded her grimly as he laid her clothing on the cot beside her. "You have a family to go back to and I have a job to do." "And when that job is over you'll be gone." He did not reply but patiently waited for her to dress. Katie hurriedly slipped into her clothes. She kept her back to Tulane for fear he would see the tears that burned her eyes and blurred her vision. When she was fully dressed, she turned to face him. "Christopher..." "Don't say it, Katherine," he cut in gruffly. "It doesn't change what has to be and I'm not sure I can let you go back to him if you say it again. So please, forget it...forget me...that's the best thing you can do for

yourself...and everybody else too." "All right, Christopher," she agreed with a trembly smile, reaching up to gently caress his cheek. "I won't say it, but it's there whether I say it aloud or not. You'll take it with you when you leave here, wherever you go." Tulane's expression softened. His eyes warmed with emotion as Katie came into his arms and held him tightly. Then he cleared his throat and held her away from him. "I think it's best if we go back separately. Even if Matt suspects we've been together all afternoon I see no reason to rub his face in it." Katie nodded in agreement and moments later was mounted and on her way home. Tulane watched her ride away, then turned to slam his fist into the rotting doorjamb and curse under his breath. He had promised himself he would never allow this to happen again but when Katie touched him, all his resolve had melted into a pool of molten desire that over-rode his judgment. Damn, he thought as he caught up the reins to mount the black stallion. It was a mistake to let Katie get any closer. A bigger mistake to allow her to tell him she loved him. God, didn't she know she was in love with a killer? He pulled his hat down over his eyes and chewed his lip as the big horse flew over the prairie toward the farm. He had to put an end to this business with Fletcher quickly. He had to get the hell out of this valley soon. If he didn't go quickly, he might never be able to go at all. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN Justin glanced toward the open door of his office with a grimace at the sight of Taryn and Jake Stoddard coming down the stairs together. His eyes narrowed and his handsome face took on a determined manner as the pair walked into the office and took seats opposite him across the desk. A light breeze stirred the curtains behind Justin, gently ruffling his hair and cooling the stuffy room. "Damn, it's hot in here, Justin!" Taryn declared as she fanned herself. "Have you been in here all afternoon with the door closed?" "I hadn't noticed the weather conditions. I've been in here thinking. I've had a lot on my mind." "I'm not surprised," Jake scoffed with a ferret-like grin. "What with

the news being as bad as it is." Justin's glance swung to the gunman to hold with a boldness that surprised both Jake and Taryn. The girl stared at her half-brother curiously. There was something different about Justin this afternoon, some new element had been added to his personality. There was a new determination in his eyes. Taryn heard it in the clipped no nonsense way he was speaking. It surprised her, but she liked it too. "That's exactly why I asked the two of you to step in here," Justin said. He opened the top drawer of his desk, took out a small packet which he pushed across the desk to Jake. Jake took it, then his head jerked up in surprise. "What is this, Justin? What the hell are you up to?" "What it is, Jake," Justin explained while he returned the gunman's cold stare without blinking. "Is what I owe you. The balance of the price we agreed on when you came to work for me. Put very simply, Jake, it means that our business is finished. I want you off my ranch by sundown." Jake blinked in amazement. He stared at Justin in silence, trying to digest what the rancher had said. "You mean you're firin' me?" he asked after a moment. "Exactly." "Have you completely lost your mind?" Taryn stormed. She leaped to her feet to plant herself firmly in front of her brother, her eyes snapping with anger. "You can't fire Jake! We have a lawman breathing down our necks. What do you plan to do, Justin? Sit here like a fat goose waiting to be plucked?" "Sit down, Taryn!" Justin commanded as his gaze lifted to lock with hers. The new authority in his voice startled Taryn. After a moment of staring at him she sat down and clamped her mouth shut. "Thank you," Justin said to her, then turned his attention to Jake. "Our business is concluded, Jake. You have your money. Your services are no longer required. Get off my property as quickly as possible. If you leave now, you may be able to be out of the territory before that Marshal gets here." "Justin, I don't understand. What's gotten into you?" Taryn asked with wide eyes. She was seeing a man she didn't recognize, someone she'd never seen before. Justin looked at her through a soft blue haze of cigar smoke as he lit one of his imported cigars. A tiny, amused smile curled his lips when he saw the surprise in Taryn's face. "I'm doing, or trying to do, my dear sister,

what you've told me for years I need to do. I'm trying to be a man, Taryn. Stand on my own two feet...take my lumps if I have any coming. "You see, Taryn, I'm doing what I should have done months ago. This whole trouble with Wainwright and the farmers could have been avoided if I'd used some sense instead of letting my pride stand in the way. "People have been killed because of my mistakes, some of them good people," he went on as he pictured Fenton Elwood's thin, worried face. "I haven't gained anything. Indeed, I've only lost...lost most everything that is important to me; the ranch, the respect of my neighbors. "But," he added with a sigh. "Too late now to change any of it. It's over, Taryn, and we've lost. It's time to accept that." "Maybe you're ready to quit but I'm sure as hell not!" Jake Stoddard snarled. "I came here to kill Tulane and I ain't leavin' till it's done!" "Then kill him on your own time!" Justin snapped. He met Jake's stare levelly without blinking, then smiled to himself when Jake's gaze wavered and dropped. The gunman stuffed the packet of money into the front of his shirt, then turned on his heel. He stomped from the room without looking back. Moments later the front door slammed shut behind him. "How about a drink, Taryn?" Justin suggested with a grin at her still silent, shocked expression. "We may as well celebrate what time I've got left." "Justin, I still don't understand. Why are you giving up? Okay, even if we can't beat the farmers, you can make certain they don't get to enjoy their victory." "I'm giving up, dear Taryn, because we've lost." Justin watched the fire in her eyes with a fond smile. "It's possible that I may get off lightly if I'm judged by a jury of twelve good men," he remarked, sliding a half-full glass of brandy across the shiny desk top to her. "At any rate, it's time to pay the piper. Let's drink to that, shall we? Who knows, Taryn? I may even come out of this mess with my self respect restored. If I can salvage that much, then I don't think I shall have done too badly." Taryn fought off a shiver as she lifted her glass to acknowledge his toast. The lighthearted manner Justin had adopted stunned her, made her wonder if her half brother had finally lost his mind. Still, her eyes reflected a new respect as she joined him in a toast to the future. Jake Stoddard applied the spurs to his horse, still cursing under his

breath as he turned the animal toward the farming community. He reached inside to fondle the packet of money with a greedy smile, then remembered his task was not quite over yet. There was still one small detail to be completed and the plan forming in his mind was a good one. It was a plan that would bring his adversary to him, on his terms. What more could he dare hope for? And if that big, dumb farmer had the guts to come along, then he'd deal with him as well. Jake gave a bitter chuckle as he spurred the horse into greater speed. Time was wasting. The end of many years of envy and hatred was about to be reached. Jake was ready. This time there was no doubt who would walk away the winner. Tulane had finished cleaning his pistol and was reloading it when he heard Katie's shrill cry of alarm. He leaped up from his cot and snapped the cylinder of his gun into place as he ran through the barn. When he reached the entrance he saw Katie running toward him. Even at some distance he saw the fear that had turned her face to chalk. "The children!" she gasped, grabbing his arm while she struggled for breath. "Christopher! He's taken the children!" Tulane caught her shoulders in both hands. He was alarmed to discover she was trembling violently. The fear that lit her eyes was a live, haunted thing that made the hair rise at the base of his neck. "Katherine, calm down! Get your breath! That's it, nice and slow." A few seconds passed while Katie forced herself to follow his instructions for she knew she was making no sense at all. Matt had followed her and now stood watching a short distance away while Katie gasped for breath. His face was pale, full of fear, his tortured, but he did not speak until it was apparent that Katie was too distraught to make any sense. "Dane and Glenna went down to the stream a couple of hours ago to fish," he explained hoarsely. "Katie called them for supper but they didn't answer so she went to look for them. They're gone, both of them. What she found was this..." Tulane let go of Katie's arms to take the folded piece of paper Matt was holding toward him. The message was very short but very clear. It said, "I've got the kids. You know what to do to get them back. I got no reason to hurt little kids, Tulane. It's you I want. Come and get them." "Jake Stoddard?" Matt asked fearfully. Tulane nodded curtly as he crumbled the note in his fist. "I never

could read his reports in the army. It's his handwriting, no doubt about it." "What does it mean, Tulane?" Matt asked in a calmer voice. "Just what it says. He wants me and he's not above harming the children to get me." "What are you going to do?" Katie asked in a frightened little voice. Her eyes were filled with anguish for her children's safety as she held onto Tulane's arm. "I'm going to get them back." "You don't really think he'd hurt two little kids?" Matt asked hopefully. "Jake Stoddard means just what this note says," Tulane answered with a glance at him. "Killing two children means nothing to Jake. He'd kill a hundred to get what he wants." "So what are you going to do? Just walk up and hand yourself over to him?" Katie's voice was calmer now. Her face had regained some of its color. She stood in front of the two men, her feet spaced slightly apart, her eyes gleaming with anger. "You know he's waiting for you. He intends to shoot you on sight. You can't just do what he says." "I don't have much choice, Katherine," Tulane said gently. "My first priority is to get the kids away from him. When that's done, I'll worry about him shooting me. Don't worry, Jake's not that good a shot," he added with a tiny grin. "I'm going with you!" Katie declared when he turned to saddle his horse. "No, you're not!" "You can't stop me, Christopher! Those are my children. I have every right to go with you." "Katherine, it's too dangerous," Tulane argued, trying to control the irritation he knew was growing in his voice. "Jake is not the best shot in the world. You could get hit accidentally." "All the more reason I'm going. I can help you, Christopher. You know I can. I can go with your permission or without it, but I am going!" They stared at each other in heated silence until Matt moved a step closer and cleared his throat. "She's right, Tulane. She might be able to help. Let her go with you." "What about you, Matt? You're so goddamned willing to let your wife put herself in danger. What about you? They're your kids too, aren't they? Are you going to stand back and let a woman take your place?" Matt's face flushed with embarrassment, but he did not reply. After a moment Tulane snorted, then turned toward the barn to saddle his horse and

a mount for Katie. While he was inside, Katie turned to Matt with her eyes flashing. "It's time you faced your fears, Matthew. Our children are in danger. They may even be dead right now. They need you! You're their father! If you're so afraid that you'll let a stranger risk his life to rescue your children, then don't be here when we get back! I need a husband, Matthew. I need a man. I don't need a coward!" She waited for him to speak, but Matt could not find his voice. He could only stare at her apologetically, letting his eyes beg her for understanding. But Katie turned away with a heavy heart when Tulane emerged from the barn with the horses. She mounted in a flash and sped from the yard without another glance at her husband. Tulane pulled his hat down and reined to a halt beside Matt's hunched, dejected form. "Are you coming?" Matt shook his head slowly. It took all his strength to look up into Tulane's scornful, yet oddly understanding features. "I-.-I-.I can't. I'm no good with guns, you know that. I'd only be in your way." "This may be your last chance to salvage your marriage, Matt. Goddamnit! You don't have to shoot anybody. That's what you hired me for, for God's sake! But if you care anything about that woman and those children, you get your shit together and come with us." "I'm scared," Matt said weakly. "Well, so am I." Tulane's brows arched at the surprise that came to Matt's face. "That surprise you, Matt? Hell yes, I'm scared. Jake Stoddard is one crazy son-of-a-bitch! He's capable of anything and he's sitting somewhere with a gun right now just licking his chops and waiting for me to walk into his gun sights." "But you're still going?" Matt asked incredulously. "Yes. Jake's left me no choice. But you have a choice, Matt. It's up to you. You can sit here while I get your kids back alone or you can saddle a horse and come along. "You've got to face your fear, Matt. If you don't, it'll keep eating at you until there's nothing left. Being afraid is a terrible thing, but watching your family lose all respect for you is worse. Make up your mind, Matt. You've run out of time." Tulane did not wait for a response for he knew Matt had no ready answer. He set his heels to the black stallion's flanks and raced from the farmyard after Katie. In moments he had caught up with her.

"They're at Justin's," she said with a sideways glance at him. "He's waiting for you." "I know," Tulane answered with a wry smile. "But Jake doesn't know you're with me. Between the two of us Jake hasn't got a prayer." Katie almost believed him. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT Justin and Taryn were still sitting at the dining table when the front door opened, then banged closed again. "Who the devil can that be at this hour?" Justin grumbled as he laid aside his white linen napkin and looked toward the doorway. "And without even the courtesy of knocking first!" Taryn smiled at her brother's irritated expression as she took another sip of wine. "That's what happens when you give the servants the evening off," she said, eyeing Justin thoughtfully. "People start taking advantage when you're too good to them." The crystal chandelier above the impressive maple dining table made the speculative gleam in her dark eyes softer when she studied Justin across the table. Her lips softened with a tiny smile. She liked the new Justin, she decided. Perhaps he could be persuaded to carry this new authority into the bedroom. At any rate, when dinner was over she intended to find out. The shocked expression that came to Justin's face made Taryn jerk around in her chair to see what had startled him so. Before she could turn to see who had brought such a rapid change in his features, she heard the ominous click of the hammer of a Colt being drawn back. She saw the color drain from Justin's face only to rush back a second later in anger. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing!" Justin demanded hoarsely. "Just relax, Justin. Finish your dinner. I told you I still had business to finish. When it's done, I'll be going. Until then, you sit tight and don't give me any trouble." Taryn's face paled at the ugly tone of Jake Stoddard's voice as he ushered the two Wainwright children into the room ahead of him. Glenna fell on the shiny hardwood floor and began to cry. Anger darkened Dane's eyes at his little sister's injury. Whirling free of Jake's fist clinched in his collar, he kicked the gunman's shins with all the fury of an eight year old. Jake yelped in pain. His weasel-like features flushed with anger as he

danced around on one foot for a moment. Then he slapped Dane backhanded, knocking the boy to the floor with a dull thud. "That's enough, Jake!" Taryn shouted as she leaped up from the table and flew across the room. She picked Glenna up in her arms, then reached down to assist Dane in getting to his feet. "Then tell that little hellion to mind his manners!" Jake growled with a meaningful nod with his gun toward Dane. "What are you doing with these children?" Justin demanded. His face was dark with anger as he started to rise from the table, then sank back into the chair at Jake's menacing gesture. "You have surely lost your mind!" After seating the children at the table, Taryn dabbed at Glenna's tears with the end of her skirt. At least the seductive white peasant dress would serve some useful purpose tonight, she thought irritably. She soothed the children's fears as best she could while watching Jake from the corner of her eye. There was a wildness in his eyes that unnerved her. Jake was unattractive at best, but Taryn now saw the ugliness in his soul, the deadly intent that made his eyes gleam like coals of fire. "Actually it's a perfect plan," he explained to Justin. "What better way to bring Tulane to me, on my terms, than to grab the squatter's kids?" "You'll never get away with this," Justin warned him. "Tulane will come after them all right and when he does, he'll kill you, Jake. You said yourself that you can't outdraw him. You're insane to think you can pull this off." "You don't think I'm going to let him get within gun range, do you?" Jake sneered. "I've got men out there waiting for him, Justin. But if he gets past them, I'll be right here with a gun on the kids. He's got no choice but to walk right through that door and when he does.." a cold chuckle punctuated his statement. "I'll drop him." "Somehow I don't think Tulane will do what you expect," Taryn said with a sneer. She returned Jake's cold stare when he swung his attention to her for a moment, gripping the table to keep him from seeing how her hands had begun to tremble. "You can't get away with this, Jake." "I can get away with whatever I damn well please," Jake snarled. "I've waited too long to let him get away now when I'm this close." "You're a real brave man, Jake," Justin said evenly. He surprised himself by meeting the killer's cold eyes without blinking. Now that the initial shock had worn off, his momentary fear had been replaced by a deep, burning fury that made his jade eyes flat and glittering in the light of the

chandelier. "It takes real guts to use two small children to trap a man. Even more to wait for a man to walk into range so you can gun him down without a chance because you know you're no match for him face to face. You're a real prize." Justin was rising as he spoke, getting to his feet behind the table. His scornful statement brought a snarl from Jake's feral-like lips as he thumbed the hammer of the Colt. The bullet caught Justin a half inch above his belt buckle, squarely in the center of his stomach. Instantly his white shirt was stained with blood. Both hands went to the wound in surprise, then he slid backwards onto the floor. Taryn screamed when she realized Jake was going to shoot, then stood paralyzed in horror as Justin's blood gushed from the wound to soak his shirt in seconds. "Justin! Justin!" she cried as she ran around the table to drop onto the floor to slide beneath Justin's limp body and cradle his head in her lap. She ripped at her petticoats, pressed the strips into Justin's middle trying to stem the flow of blood. "You've killed him!" she screamed at Jake. "My God, you've killed him!" "That was what you wanted, wasn't it?" Jake sneered. He walked closer to peer around the table at her. "You wanted him dead. Now he is. I'd think you'd be a bit more grateful." Taryn stared at him, horrified, then moved quickly from beneath Justin's head to leap at Jake. Her nails tore strips of skin from his face, leaving behind bloody trails. She seemed to have totally forgotten his gun as she attached him, screaming like a banshee while she tried to rip his eyes from their sockets. It only took a second for Jake to recover from the surprise of her attack. He retaliated by clubbing her with the barrel of his pistol, smiling when her eyes rolled back as she slid down his leg to the floor in an unconscious heap. The last thing Taryn heard before falling into a deep, black void was the eerie sound of Jake's laughter from somewhere far above her. Then a cold, damp cloud settled over her brain and all sound stopped. She wondered if Jake had killed her too. Tulane reined the stallion to a halt several hundred yards from the arch bearing the Circle F emblem. Reaching out to catch the reins of Katie's mount, he saw the determination that filled her face when she looked at him

in the moonlight. "Jake's not alone," she said confidently as her chin raised. "He has help." "That doesn't surprise me. While Jake has never been real long on nerve, he sure knows how to stack the deck in his favor." In spite of the seriousness of the moment Katie smiled at the sarcasm in Tulane's voice. She brushed back a tendril of hair the brisk ride had blown loose from her chignon and stared at him. "Justin and Taryn are not part of this. Jake acted on his own." Tulane nodded, accepting her declaration without question while he scanned the ranch yard. Lights were on in the bunkhouse and the main house but no one was moving outside. Wherever Jake had placed his sentries they were invisible at this distance. "Any idea how many men or where they're placed?" Katie stared at the ranch yard for a moment in silence, then nodded as she looked back to him. "Four men, Christopher. Two on the roof of the bunkhouse and two more outside the front of the house. Only Jake is inside." "Good, that makes it easier." She stared at him in surprise, amazed at the calm way he lifted the pistol from its holster to check the chambers. "Easier?" she echoed. "What's easy about five men waiting to kill you?" Tulane's smile was a flash of ivory in the pale moonlight. Then Katie saw the flash of metal when he took the long bladed knife from the scabbard on his belt and turned it over in the light. She felt the hair rise on the back of her neck at the confidence in his face. The glitter in the depths of those blue-gray eyes chilled her blood until she realized it was this nonchalant deadliness that would rescue her children. She was suddenly thankful for this cold, detached side of him that Tulane was showing her now. She almost felt sorry for Jake Stoddard. Tulane did not answer her question. He slid off the stallion and handed Katie the reins, then his hat. "What are you going to do, Christopher?" "Stay here, Katherine. Don't move from this spot. If you don't hear anything in ten minutes, get off the horse and try to get to the side door of the house. Stay in the shadows and try not to make any noise." "I'm coming with you," she said firmly while she slid from the saddle. "We're in this together, Christopher." "Goddamnit, Katherine! This is no time to argue!" Tulane said

hoarsely. He had grabbed her arm to swing her around to face him. Katie stared up into his tense face with her chin raised stubbornly. "I'll do whatever you say, Christopher, but I'm coming with you," she repeated emphatically. Tulane stared at her pale, determined face in the moonlight, then slowly shook his head. "All right, damn it! But do what I tell you. No fainting or throwing up, understand?" Katie nodded vigorously when his hand closed on hers to begin leading her across the darkened landscape toward the house. Seconds later they had entered the yard and were approaching the front of the house, having come up on it from the rear. Jake's sentries were well placed, Tulane noted at once. However, the two on guard at the bunkhouse were watching the prairie to the west, expecting him to ride in from that direction. From their position beside the east side of the house he and Katie were completely hidden from their view. That left the two at Justin's front door to be dealt with. With a little luck he could dispose of them quietly and not have to kill the other two at all. A few feet from the front corner of the house he paused and motioned for Katie to wait behind him. While she waited in the shadows, he slipped silently up behind the sentry on the left side of the porch. Justin's porch was heavily shadowed by vines growing up along the side of the house and draping over the eaves, making it easier for Tulane to get close to the man without being seen by his partner at the opposite end of the porch. Katie held her breath when Tulane slipped the knife between his teeth, crouching among the shadows waiting for the man to walk into position. Then, without a sound, he caught the man around the neck with his left arm and deftly cut his throat. Tulane dragged the still twitching body backwards to put it down in the grass at Katie's feet. Katie put one hand to her mouth to force back the urge to vomit at the gush of blood still pumping from the man's severed jugular vein, then glanced up at Tulane's calm face with a nod. He put one finger to his lips before moving silently back across the porch to silence the second sentry. Moments later he returned wiping the knife blade on his thigh as he signaled for Katie to follow him. With a careful eye on the bunkhouse sentries, he tried the doorknob, grimacing when the click sounded like a cannon shot in the stillness. Katie stuck very close to him as he opened the door a crack, then slipped inside the house.

They crept toward the sound of Glenna's crying, following the sound toward the dining room. Katie gave a small gasp and would have broken loose to go running into the room but for Tulane's restraining hand on her arm. His eyes warned her to be silent so she crept back into the shadows and bit her lip to keep from calling out to her daughter. A shiver ran up her spine when Tulane pulled the Colt from its worn holster and squared his shoulders. He knew he would have only one shot at best. It would have to count. He could see Dane and Glenna crouched over Taryn's limp body in the center of the room, trying to revive her. Even as he saw them, both children looked up, as though sensing rescue was eminent, and saw him as well. He lifted a finger to his lips, then smiled when Dane grabbed his little sister and clamped a hand over her mouth to cut off the squeal of excitement forming in her throat. Jake was standing by the dining room table helping himself to a glass of Justin's wine. Arrogant bastard, Tulane thought at the smug look on the gunman's face. Jake thought he had everything under control. "You, kid! Come over here!" he said to Dane with a wave of the gun. Dane got slowly to his feet to approach Jake warily, praying that Glenna would remain silent. He heard Taryn stir behind him, moaning as she felt the swelling along the side of her face where Jake's pistol had opened a nasty wound. Tulane gave a silent sigh of relief when Glenna turned her attention from the doorway to pat Taryn's face in an effort to make her feel better. "It's all right," he heard the little girl say in a trembling voice. "Uncle Christopher will make this bad man go away." Dane knew he was directly in Tulane's line of fire, knew he had to do something to distract Jake and get himself and Glenna out of the way. His eight year old mind whirled, then his eyes brightened. It was a wild shot but it was the only thing he could think of and he knew they were running out of time. He looked up at Jake's evil face and gritted his teeth. Then lowering his head, he charged straight into Jake's middle. Jake howled with anger and swung at him with the gun barrel but Dane had already run back across the room and was throwing himself over Glenna and Taryn, giving Tulane a clear shot. Jake lifted the pistol and aimed at the back of Dane's head, pulling back the hammer while he growled furiously. "Jake!"

Jake's head snapped up. For a second he looked shocked to see Tulane standing in the doorway. Then he snarled to realize he had been tricked by an eight year old boy. His hand began to lift the gun when Tulane's bullet caught him in the chest and spun him around. Still Jake thumbed the hammer, firing wildly, sending bullets crashing into the wall beside Tulane. Tulane did not blink, did not even appear to notice how close the bullets came. He thumbed the hammer of the Colt twice. The first shot knocked the gun from Jake's hand; the second hit him directly between the eyes just above the bridge of his nose. Tulane stepped aside to let Katie gather her children into her arms. They were all three crying, examining each other to be sure no one was harmed. Tulane walked around Jake's lifeless body to look at Justin. He knelt beside him to place one hand against Justin's throat, smiling thinly at the weak, yet steady pulse. He rose to his feet and was turning when he heard the loud footsteps on the porch. "Get down!" he shouted to Katie and the children. They flattened themselves to the floor as the last two sentries charged into the room with their guns drawn. They made an attempt to shoot but were cut down by the deadly fire from Tulane's Colt, falling on top of each other in the doorway. Tulane dropped the gun back into his holster and reached down to pull Katie to her feet. "Justin's still alive. I told you Jake was a lousy shot." Katie wiped the tears from her eyes and threw herself into his arms with a strangled cry. Her fingers clutched at his vest, holding onto him desperately while she struggled to regain her composure. "It's all right, Katherine," he told her gently. He took her arms to hold her away from him, nodding toward the children still cowering on the floor beside Taryn. "Better see to the children." Glenna crept into her mother's arms and hung on fiercely. She blinked back tears as she gave her mother a wobbly smile. "The bad man hurt Taryn, mama," she said. "Taryn will be just fine," Katie assured her with a smile. "And so will Justin. We'll all be fine now." Dane wriggled away from Katie's protective grasp and walked toward Tulane. Tulane dropped to one knee as he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Dane, that was some fast thinking, son. You were very brave. I'm proud of you." His eyes brightened as an idea came to him. Reaching into his vest

pocket, he pulled out the gold oak leaves and placed them in Dane's small grubby hand. "A soldier gets decorated when he does a brave thing. Wear these proudly, Dane, you earned them." Dane's eyes gleamed with pride as Tulane pinned the oak leaves on the collar of his shirt, then rose to his feet. Tulane's head jerked up as his hand automatically reached for the pistol on his hip at the sound of more footsteps crashing onto the porch. A second later Matt charged into the room carrying the heavy squirrel gun. For a long moment both men stared at one another, each one's gun drawn on the other. Then Tulane dropped his pistol back into the holster. Matt put his rifle aside, then hurried to make certain his family was safe. Katie still sat on the floor beside Justin, trying to stem the flow of blood. Glenna came now to hold out her arms to Matt. He took her and hugged her fiercely. Glancing over her head to Katie, he cleared his throat as he finally found his voice. "Justin...is he all right?" "He'll live," Katie predicted with a surprised look at her husband. "It's a bad wound, but the bleeding has almost stopped. I'm sure he'll pull through." "I'll wire Billings for a doctor when I reach town," Tulane said from the doorway. "I may as well wire the Marshal too and tell him not to bother about serving those warrants. There's not much need for them now." Katie's eyes snapped around to catch his across the room, reading his intentions clearly. She opened her mouth to speak, but Taryn drew her attention by climbing to her feet with a gesture toward Matt. "Justin had already decided the war was over when Jake burst in here with the children," she said slowly, pausing several times to wipe at her eyes irritably. "If you're still willing to compromise on the water, Matt, we'd be willing to listen." "Whenever you're ready, Taryn. We can work something out," Matt told her gruffly. Then he turned to walk from the room with Glenna, pausing in the doorway to speak to Katie. "Katie, I'll be taking the kids on home. I expect you'll be staying with Taryn until a doctor gets here." Katie nodded in agreement but looked away from the plea in his eyes. She could not answer his unspoken question...not yet...not when her heart was breaking. Matt looked at her sorrowfully then cleared his throat and glanced at Tulane. "I'd like a word with you, Tulane, outside if you don't mind." Tulane followed him from the house and waited until Matt had placed

Glenna on his horse. It was several moments until the big man turned to look at him. "Tulane, I know how you feel about Katie...how she feels about you…I know she'd go with you if you asked her.." He paused, then made a helpless gesture with his hands as he cleared his throat again. It took all his courage to meet Tulane's level gaze without looking away. "I can't blame you if you take her…can't blame her if she goes...I haven't been much of a husband lately, much of a man either. But I'm asking you not to take her away from me, Tulane. She's...she's all I've got. She means the world to me in spite of the miserable way I've treated her lately. I..I don't know what I'd do without her.." His voice faltered, then he looked away, rubbing his face to hide the tears that had sprung to his eyes. There was a long silence before Tulane finally spoke. "Katherine's a strong woman, Matt. She'll do the right thing." Then turning on his heel, he went back into the house. Without looking at Katie, he went to Jake's body and took the packet of money from inside his shirt. Crossing the room he dropped it into Taryn's lap. "Tell your brother his money would be better spent buying water rights than hiring a gunman." A slight smile touched his lips as he glanced down at Justin's chalky face. "But then I imagine he's already figured that out." He turned and walked across the floor. Only the tinkle of his spurs broke the silence for a moment, then Katie was on her feet running after him. "Christopher!" For an instant she thought he would not halt. Then, very slowly, he turned around to face her. She stared up into his tense face, wishing she could say something to ease the pain flooding through him, yet knowing she could not. "Christopher. You're going back to the army." No longer did her startling ability surprise him. He merely nodded with a tiny smile. "Yes, but not the way Lyle wanted. I'm going to talk to General Custer about becoming a scout for the cavalry." "You'll be the best scout ever," she said in a wobbly voice. She ached to reach out, take him in her arms, but did not trust herself to let him go. "Well, I know Indians. And I know the army. It might work out." He kept his voice deliberately detached, almost cool, but he knew his face was telling her much more.

"It will work out fine," Katie assured him with a weak smile. "Christopher, I wish.." "So do I, Katherine," he broke in gruffly. "But wishing doesn't make it possible. It's better this way...for everyone." "I know," she whispered, blinking very fast to keep back the rush of tears that burned her eyes and flooded her throat. He turned away to leave, but after one step swung back around. "I've never been much good at saying what I feel, Katherine. It's one of the things I regret most about my life. But I want you to understand that I'm not leaving because I don't care about you.. I'm leaving because I do care. I care too much. And if I stayed...well...it's best I don't. "When I'm gone Matt will eventually be Matt again...the way he was before I came. He's a good man. He loves you. You have a good life with him. With me...well...it just wouldn't work...you know that." "But?" Katie asked in a strangled voice, praying he would say what she needed so badly to hear. His eyes warmed to a rich liquid silver when he hesitated before answering. There was a gentleness in him that eased Katie's mind long before he found the words. "I love you, Katherine," he said softly. "From the first moment I saw you in Hopkins' store." "I know." Katie reached out a shaky hand to touch his cheek. She thought her heart would shatter into a million tiny fragments when he turned her hand over and gently kissed the palm. "Be good to yourself, Christopher," she said, swallowing back the pain that almost blinded her. Her lips worked soundlessly, trying to get the words past the enormous lump in her throat. Tulane saw the struggle, knew what she wanted to say and touched her lisp with one finger while he forced a strained smile. "I know what you want to say, Katherine, but believe me, it's far better to leave things this way." "What about your things…back at the farm?" Katie asked. She knew she was stalling. She also knew it wouldn't work. He was right; he had to go and painful things are best done quickly. Still she wanted to hold on just a moment longer. "All packed in my saddlebag. I knew when you showed me Jake's note that I wouldn't be returning to the farm…one way or the other." He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. The jingle of

bridlebits outside reminded him that Matt was waiting for Dane who was lingering just inside the front door rubbing his medals proudly. "I'm not good at good-byes, Katherine," he said gruffly. Then he reached for her and she went into his arms. They clung together fiercely for a long moment, then Tulane stepped back and walked away. Katie heard his footsteps echo through the foyer and down the porch. Heard the gravel crunch beneath his heels when he crossed the yard to mount the black stallion. She stood in the center of Justin's dining room staring at the empty doorway for a long time, listening to the stallion's hoofbeats fade into the night. Then Taryn's hollow voice drew her attention, but she remained where she was, staring out the open doorway into the darkness. "He loves you; you love him. Why did you let him go?" Katie brushed away the tears from her cheeks and forced a smile when she turned to face the girl crouching on the floor with Justin's head in her lap. "Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone you love is to let them go," she said quietly. "Because holding on would hurt too many innocent people and in the end, it would destroy your love." Taryn glanced down at Justin's chalky face and nodded slowly. What Katie said made perfect sense; she would try to remember it. Katie walked to the front door to look out into the cool darkness. Sometimes love just wasn't enough, she thought sadly while she watched the stars twinkle above in a clear sky. The silence that greeted her ears wasn't unpleasant, she decided. It was a silence born of peace. A peace Tulane had brought to the valley. There would be no more gunfire, no more feuding over the land, no more killing. It was over. Peace had once more come to the land. Hopefully peace would also return someday to her heart. She had made the right decision; the only decision. She knew that. Just as she knew Tulane had made the right decision by going back to the army to face his own demons. It was not so much a matter of choice as a matter of necessity. Still, she knew none of them would ever be the same again. Because that summer there had been Tulane. THE END