"Then I'm goin' to the sheriff to make sure he gets the whole story on what happened."
Liar.
"I'm goin' to take good care of youso good that you'll never have to worry about anythin' again."
Murderer.
"You're real pale." Morgan turned to address Conchita when she appeared in the doorway, a plate in hand. "Chastity isn't feelin' well. She might need some help."
"I don't need help."
Morgan looked at her, then back at Conchita. "Put the plate by the bed." He waited until the plate was within Chastity's reach and Conchita had left the room before he said, "I'll be back in a little while."
He leaned down unexpectedly and kissed her cheek again, this time grazing the corner of her mouth. Feeling defiled, Chastity watched as he left the room.
«» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «»
"All right, what did you say to her?"
Morgan gripped Conchita's arm roughly when the bedroom door was securely closed behind him. He hissed, "I saw the way she looked at you."
"I said nothing! She lies if she told you I did!"
"Watch what you say about her, Conchita." The flush that colored Morgan's face sent fear coursing down her spine. "She isn't like you. She's a decent woman. She was raised right. She has morals."
Conchita spoke past the pain his words evoked. "Like you do, Morgan?"
She did not see the blow coming. Knocked backward as his fist struck her cheek, Conchita fell against Bartell, seated at the table. She heard his protest. She felt his arm support her as she struggled to regain her senses.
"Another thingI told you I wanted the bloody clothes off hersomething
clean
for her to wear, not that rag of yours! Take care of that tomorrow, or you'll be damned sorry you didn't."
In the blur that followed as Morgan pulled her free of Bartell's grip and thrust her staggering into the corner, only one thought became clear in Conchita's mind. Whatever the outcome of Morgan's exchange with this
woman
for whom he now lusted, there would be no going back. Morgan was done with her.
Facing her, rage seething in eyes as black as death, Morgan rasped, "If you tell her anythin' about this, I'll cut your heart out."
Drawing herself slowly erect, Conchita ignored the painful throbbing of her cheek as she held Morgan's gaze.
Cut her heart out?
Fool that Morgan was
,
he did not realize that his threat was meaningless.
That deed was already done.
The hours until Reed watched the cabin go dark and still for the night had stretched uncomfortably long. His strength had returned and his mind was now totally clear. The rifle strapped loosely to his back, he worked his way through the shadows. His plan was simple. He would ascertain if Chastity was in the cabin. If she was, he would get her out, any way he could.
Anxiety unlike any he had ever known choked Reed's throat as he peered in the first window. Four bedrolls were stretched out on the hard floor, one of them empty. With the fifth member of the gang absent throughout the day, there was only one unaccounted for.
Reed's heartbeat raced faster. Working his way around the cabin, he slipped up to the window in the rear and peered in. His heart went cold. The flame of a single candle lit the room. It illuminated Chastity's face where she lay sleeping on a cot. The bandage that was exposed in the neckline of the white garment she wore was stained with blood.
Reed swallowed thickly past the lump in his throat as Chastity moved, groaning in her sleep.
He glanced cautiously around him again. He was about to lift himself to slide through the open window when a rustle of movement in the corner of the room caused him to jump back. A shadowed figure moved in the chair in the corner. The man stood up and advanced toward the bed, allowing Reed positive identification.
Morgan.
Hatred swelled in a blinding rush that almost propelled Reed through the window. But common sense prevailed. Shuddering with the intense emotion he suppressed, Reed watched as Morgan leaned over Chastity's bed. He heard Morgan whisper to her, and he heard her mumbled reply. He saw Chastity turn her head away, appearing to sleep again, and he saw Morgan stand over her for long moments.
Reed strained to control the hard knot of rage tightening within him. He evaluated the situation with his last remaining reserves of composure. Morgan's gun was in plain view. He would never make it into the room before Morgan was able to use it. Nor could he risk Chastity's being hurt in the melee that would ensue if he fired a shot through the window to bring Morgan down.
Reed drew back. He must ascertain how badly Chastity was hurt first. He would form a plan from there. He had to be patient, to wait for a more opportune time when he could be certain he would not be putting Chastity's life in jeopardy when he rescued her.
But if Morgan made a move toward Chastity…
Morgan stood looking down at Chastity's pale face, his thoughts disquieted. The look in Conchita's eyes after he struck her had left him uneasy. The sensation that had prickled up his spine as he tried to sleep had contributed to the unrest that had forced him from his bedroll in the outer room an hour earlier. One look at Chastity's vulnerable beauty, and he had been unable to leave.
She was sleeping, her breast rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. His hunger for her was greater than any he had felt before. Chastity was the challenge he had been waiting for. He had sensed it the moment he saw her. He had felt her inner strength, and it had drawn him like a magnet. He had known he must possess her.
Seated in the corner of the room as he dozed fitfully, he had toyed with what the future would hold. He would court Chastity. He would make her believe in him. He would make her think the world was not complete without his lovingas he had done with so many women before her.
But would she surrender the tenets of her virtuous upbringing for him? He was unsure. He was positive of only one thing. He had killed to get her and he would kill to keep hereven if the life eventually sacrificed was her own.
All,
or nothing at all. It was his way.
«» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «» «»
Reed remained motionless as Morgan stared at Chastity,
then
walked back to the chair in the corner. He waited, shuddering with consuming enmity.
Despising himself, detesting his weakness, he waited until Morgan was sleeping,
then
forced himself to turn away from the window to slip back into the darkness.
"Get those horses hitched! Damn it, Bartell, you're useless!"
The morning sun beat warmly down on his shoulders as Morgan strode across the yard and ripped the harnesses from Bartell's hands. Fastening them, he tested the reins of the wagon, then snapped, "Get back to the herd and give the others a hand. I want them ready to move at my signal!"
Back in the cabin, Morgan glanced around the outer room. Satisfied that nothing but a few unimportant foodstuffs remained, he walked into the rear room to see Chastity seated on the edge of the bed and Conchita standing a short distance away.
Chastity looked up at him, and Morgan stopped still. She was dressed in a simple blouse and skirt, her hair loosely confined at the back of her neck. Moist tendrils clung stubbornly to her hairline even as she attempted to brush them back with her hand. The gleaming color made a sharp contrast with her pale skin and shadowed eyes that held a haunted quality.
She had never looked more beautiful to him.
She stood up as he approached. She started walking shakily.
Annoyed at her attempt at independence, he reproached her, ''You're too weak. I'll carry you."
"I can walk."
"I said, I'll carry you."
He attempted to pick her up, but she pushed him away.
"I said, I'll walk."
Morgan stiffened, anger flaring as Chastity looked into his eyes, confronting him directly. He saw Conchita's body instinctively twitch. He realized with surprise that if Chastity
were
any other woman, he would not hesitate to prove who the master was, then and there. But Chastity was not any other woman.
Instead, he nodded.
"All right."
He saw the effort she expended in taking her halting steps. He frowned, following her as she continued out into the main room of the cabin without a word. He saw her waver halfway across, and he sensed that her strength was failing badly when she stepped out into the yard. She halted for breath. He waited for her to collapse from the weakness that had raised a fine veil of perspiration on her brow, but she did not. Instead, she continued toward the wagon, pausing when she reached the rear.
Determined to make her ask for his help, he watched as she negotiated the step there, then, with supreme effort, boosted herself inside. Furious, Morgan turned away to see Conchita watching him silently. He approached her and instructed in a carefully controlled voice, "I want you to drive out ahead of the herd. You know how to handle a wagon. Keep a fast enough pace so you won't be overrun. Somebody will ride alongside at all times to make sure you don't get lost." He moved a step closer. "Drive carefully, Conchita. You know what'll happen to you if anything happens to her."
Conchita's dark eyes held his.
"
S
?,
I know."
He glanced at Bartell, who sat mounted nearby. "Make sure she keeps the pace."
The wagon lurched forward, and Morgan mounted and dug his heels sharply into his horse's sides.
Chastity closed her eyes as the wagon jerked forward. She swayed, barely able to hold herself erect. It had taken every last ounce of energy she possessed to make it to the wagon. She had truly believed she would not be able to lift herself up onto the bed, but the thought of depriving Morgan of another chance to practice his smiling hypocrisy had infused her with the last-minute strength she needed.
The torment within her almost more than she could bear, Chastity smoothed the pallet on which she sat with her palm. The memory of Reed lying beside her was so acutely vivid at that moment that it stole her breath. Never to see him again, never to hear his voice or feel his touch… she brushed away a tear.
A second sense turning her toward
the driver's
seat, Chastity looked up to see Conchita looking back at her, reins in hand.
Raising her voice over the rattle of the wagon, she sneered, "So, you cry for the man you lost."
"No," Chastity responded with firm determination. "I don't waste time crying."
A hard smile touched Conchita's lips.
"
Bueno
.
Neither do
I
."
Standing just beyond the rise, Reed mounted the chestnut gelding. His mind had raced, preventing sleep during the long night that had followed his furtive visit to the cabin. Morgan's attitude toward Chastity and the deference with which he treated her made him certain that Chastity had not revealed his true identity or the real reason he had come to Indian Territory.
He wondered what Chastity thought had happened to him. Did Morgan tell her he had been killed in the Indian raid Morgan manufactured? The thought tormented him.
Was she even now mourning him? The thought sliced deep.
Chastity was still weak. He had seen her staggering as she walked to the wagon. Morgan had accompanied her, but he had not lent her a supportive hand. He sensed that Chastity had made it clear she didn't want his help. But he knew Morgan's reputation. He would not allow her to defy him for long.
If only he could be sure what Morgan was planning
…
Anxiety tightened inside Reed. He needed to get Chastity away from Morgan before Morgan's patience ran out. He needed to hold her in his arms. It was his fault she had been wounded and was suffering. He would make it up to her.
And he would love her. With all his heart, he would love her.
Twilight had turned the bright sunlight of the first day on the trail into shadows. The driving had been difficult, necessitating that Morgan stay with the herd the entire day while the wagon maintained the lead with Bartell. It irritated Morgan that he had not been able to replace Bartell and ride with Chastity as he'd originally planned. The leisurely day Bartell had as a result irked him. He was determined that Bartell would not have an easy night as well.
"All right, Bartell, you take the first watch."
The look Bartell shot him did not go unnoticed. Morgan snapped, "You got any complaints?"
"No, I ain't, just as long as somebody comes out to relieve me in a few hours. I don't intend spendin' the whole night out there with the herd."
Morgan's gaze grew deadly. His voice dropped a note softer. "You'll stay with the herd as long as I tell you to. If that means the whole night, then you'd better make sure you stay awake, too. If you think I'm goin' to lose another head to the same animals that got those beeves you and Turner were supposed to bring back, you've got another think comin'. We lose another steer tonight, and it'll come out of your share."