Cherished Read online

  “For God’s sake ...”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t bear the sight of blood! But I’d gladly shed yours right at this moment! Now get this thing away from me, but ... don’t shoot him ... unless you have to!”

  “Maybe you’d like me to dance with him,” Cole remarked. He raised his gun.

  The bear, as if sensing his intentions, swung down from the base of the tree and faced Cole on all fours, eyes shining.

  Cole fired past the bear’s head.

  The animal swerved sideways with a growl. He seemed to be gathering himself for a lunge forward. Cole fired off another shot, and sprang directly toward the creature, letting out a piercing Cheyenne war cry. Startled, the bear rumbled deep in his throat, swung about, and lumbered off through the trees as quickly as his legs could carry him, disappearing into the inky shadows cast by the twilight.

  Cole slipped his gun back into its holster and strolled forward, wondering why he hadn’t just killed the animal. The bear could have charged him, instead of running off. Fool woman. Don’t shoot him. And he had listened. He scowled at her, not sure if he was more annoyed with her, or with himself; “Well, Miss Montgomery,” he drawled as he gazed up at her in her flushed, disheveled state. “Now I know you can ride, steal, and climb trees. I’m learning more about you all the time. The question is, can you say thank you?”

  “G-get me down from here,” Juliana gasped. “I think ... I’m going to fall—”

  Even as she spoke the branch snapped and she tumbled downward, but Cole caught her neatly in his arms. Her hands were scratched and bloody from scrambling up the tree, and he guessed her knees and arms were the same, but her face, bright red and furious, was almost comical in its dismay.

  “Ohhh! Let me go,” she demanded as she felt the strength of his iron grip about her body. “Let me go this instant!”

  “Anything you say, ma’am.” Cole dumped her into a pile of pine needles without ceremony.

  Landing flat on her backside, Juliana screeched in outrage. She was already unbelievably stiff and sore from the grueling day of riding—not to mention scrambling up the tree. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She glared up at him as fury whipped through her. “You ... you ...”

  “You’re welcome.” Cole smothered the urge to laugh. Instead, he touched his hand to his hat, turned, and started back through the trees toward the campsite.

  “Stick around as long as you want—maybe your friend will come back for another dance,” he called over his shoulder.

  He heard her scrambling to her feet. “Wait ... for me!”

  But he didn’t slow down or glance back, and she had to run to catch up to him. “You ... you are the most impossible, ungentlemanly, discourteous man ...”

  “And you’re the most troublesome, ungrateful, complainingest woman ...”

  For a moment they glared at each other in the twilight beneath the spreading branches of the spruce, she with her tumbling curls dangling in her face, with pine needles stuck to her gown and fury glimmering in her eyes, and he with that cold, mocking expression that never failed to rile her. Then Cole reached out and seized her by the shoulders and started, he swore, to kiss her but at the last instant, with his mouth only inches from hers, he yanked his head back, silently cursed himself for a weak damned fool, and pushed her away. His back straight, he turned on his heel and stalked off without another word.

  What the hell had almost happened, he wondered as fury and bafflement struggled within him. Hadn’t he learned his lesson this morning? This woman was more trouble than a dozen varmints like Reese Kincaid. He had to stay away from her, as far away as he could get. Why the hell did he keep wanting to kiss her? Because she was so damned beautiful she put a sunrise to shame, and so full of pluck she hadn’t the sense to be properly scared of him or a bear?

  Don’t shoot him, she had said. And she had fainted in Denver when she’d seen a dead man. So bloodshed and killing bothered her, but stealing did not. Odd. But then, so was this entire situation. For once in his life, Cole felt unsure of his own instincts, his own will. If he wasn’t careful, she’d get the upper hand with him yet, not through pulling a gun or a knife on him while he slept, but by tearing down his resistance. Hell, he was a man, wasn’t he? But she was one hell of a bewitching woman.

  He made a decision. There was no way he wanted to drag her all the way back to Denver. It would take weeks of traveling together across the wilderness at close quarters and he’d be damned if he’d put himself through that. There was a quicker, easier way. Tomorrow he’d take her to Plattsville. Let Sheriff Rivers deal with transporting her to Denver. He could wash his hands of her once he brought her to jail. It would take longer to get the reward: Rivers would have to get it wired from Denver, and it might take up to a month before the paperwork was completed, the girl was turned over to the law in Denver, and the money was forwarded. In the meantime he’d ride down to Fire Mesa and see what he could do about stalling for time. It would be worth it, Cole decided with a grim twist to his mouth, to be rid of her, even though it wasn’t the way he usually conducted his business. But he’d had enough of Juliana Montgomery and her shenanigans.

  Juliana followed him back to camp with great thoughtfulness. She didn’t know what to make of Cole Rawdon. He was the most unpredictable and infuriating man she’d met, but she was beginning to wonder if he was really quite as impervious to her as he would like her to believe. He had tried to make it plain that she was nothing to him but an object, a piece of property of value only because she could be exchanged for cash; yet she could have sworn back there that he was ready to kiss her again—even though he was angry, even though she had annoyed him and caused him a good deal of trouble. Kiss him! She’d as soon kiss that old black bear as kiss Cole Rawdon.

  Still, if he was attracted to her, even the tiniest little bit, wasn’t that something she could use to her advantage? She might be able to soften his feelings for her enough to convince him to let her go—or at least to let his guard down so she could find an opportunity to make a decent escape.

  It certainly bore thinking about.

  When she reached the camp, he was leaning against a tree, smoking one of his cheroot cigarettes. His face was unreadable. He looked very tall, strong, and forbidding, standing in the gray twilight, his hat slouched down over his eyes. Juliana took a deep breath. It was best not to waste any time in trying out her new plan of action. Though there was an inherent danger in her plan that she hadn’t overlooked, a danger of encouraging more attention from Cole Rawdon than she desired or could handle, she was desperate enough to try anything.

  She walked up to him, trying to hide her uncertainty, completely unaware of the sensuous sway of her hips as she moved along the thick grass. She had no idea of how enticing her thick, tousled hair appeared as it swung forward over her shoulders, or of how softly the shadows lit her oval face. She was nervous, thinking about the perilous game she was about to begin playing with this unpredictable man. But she swallowed her apprehensions, and with one hand smoothed her curls back from her face. She must look a sight, she knew, bedraggled and dirty, with her skirt torn from shinnying up the tree, but she was still a woman, she reminded herself, and that supposedly had a big effect on a man.

  So she gave him what she hoped was a beguiling, apologetic smile and said in a soft voice, “I’m afraid I didn’t behave very well back there, Mr. Rawdon. I owe you an apology—and a thank-you. I appreciate that you didn’t kill that creature.”

  He took a drag on the cigarette. “Yeah? What about the fact that I saved your hide?”

  “I appreciate that too.”

  In the gloom of the clearing, his eyes pierced her face. “What’s up?” he asked roughly.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He threw the cigarette down and stomped on it hard. “What are you up to now?”

  Juliana spread her hands and tried to look indignant. “Why must you be so suspicious of me? I merely realized t
hat I did in fact owe you my life—actually, you saved my life yesterday, too. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have toppled right over that precipice.”

  “I almost let you.”

  This startled her so much that she forgot her calm facade. Her mouth dropped open. “You ... did?” she squeaked.

  Damn the man. He sounded like he regretted that he had grabbed her back from the cliff. Juliana fought back her anger. Don’t let him distract you. He’s trying to bait you, to make you mad.

  “So it occurred to me,” she forced herself to continue in an even tone, “that even though I don’t want to go back to Denver, you’re right about one thing. I will have a trial there, and I can try to convince the jury of my innocence. So there’s no point in my being rude to you or ... trying to get away from you. I’ve decided that I’ll simply let you take me back to Denver and face up to the charges against me.”

  “You’ll let me take you back? As if you’ve got a choice?” He mocked her deliberately, enjoying the angry sparkle she tried to keep from her eyes.

  “There’s no need to taunt me, Mr. Rawdon,” she murmured, wishing she could contrive to have her eyes fill with tears, the way Victoria did whenever Uncle Edward had scolded her. Instead she had to settle for a desolate shrug of the shoulders. “I’ve already conceded defeat.”

  Cole watched her flutter her eyelashes at him in silence. “So you have,” he said after a moment. “Mighty prettily, too.” Suddenly, he seized her by the arms, and Juliana’s eyes widened in alarm, but he only spun her about so that she faced the campfire and the clutter of dirty plates and utensils piled around it. “I realized something too, lady, while you were gone. I shot that grouse we had for dinner, so you can have the honor of cleaning up. If you’re going to be my traveling companion, you’ll have to do your share of the work.”

  He spun her around to face him again, and frowned down into her eyes. “What do you think of that?”

  It took great effort, but Juliana kept her expression meek. “I think it’s only fair,” she managed to say.

  She offered him a sweet smile. “I’ll get started right now.” She tilted her head to one side, slanting a pert look at him. “Will that be all right, Mr. Rawdon?”

  “You can forget the mister. Rawdon will do just fine.”

  “Rawdon, then.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be just fine.”

  She started to move away, but he didn’t let go of her. She realized that he wasn’t even aware that he still held her, though his grip was so strong it hurt. He was staring at her, his blue eyes like daggers in the darkness, studying her not with warmth, as she had hoped, but with cool, hard suspicion. “Mr. Rawdon, you’re hurting me.”

  “What? Oh.” He let her go.

  But his gaze followed her back to the campfire. Juliana would have traded every coin in her money pouch at that moment to know what he was thinking.

  She was bone-tired from the exertions of this day, and still stiff from the discomforts of last night, but she forced herself to do what he had asked without complaint. She’d have liked to hit him with the long-handled frying pan, but instead she piled the dishes into it. When she had gathered up all the plates and utensils and carried them to the pool, Rawdon instructed her how to scrub them with the sandy dirt and then rinse them in the water. While she worked he filled the canteens, brought more wood for the fire, and finished tending the horses.

  Darkness fell over the valley, a hushed velvet blackness broken only by stars and moon. An owl hooted from the trees, its call desolate in the stillness. Water gurgled into the pool, and the wind sang a lonely melody through the brush. Juliana, finished at last with her chores, huddled near the campfire, weary beyond belief.

  Without glancing at her, Rawdon unstrapped his bedroll and threw it down on the thick grass, with the oilskin right beside it. Then he, too, moved toward the fire and hunkered down to gaze into the flames.

  Having a woman, especially one so uniquely lovely as this one, so near in these desolate surroundings was proving more torturous than he had imagined it could. Despite himself, he was drawn over and over by her delicate beauty and by the artless grace of the way she moved and spoke. Even now, the play of firelight across her face was evocative and her hair, which looked as soft and enticing as silk, shone brighter than any gold he’d ever seen. Yet he knew full well that she wanted him to notice her, to be attracted to her. She was using her sex to weaken him, like Delilah had with Samson. She was pretending to be sweet, compliant, and cooperative just to try to make him forget that she had stolen his horse, caused him more trouble than a bronc with a burr under its saddle, and attempted twice to get away. Now she was trying to convince him that she was as tame as a kitten, with coquettish tricks he had seen employed a hundred times by dancing girls and whores trying to lasso his interest. Or at least she had been trying these little tricks a short time ago. Now all the steam seemed to have gone out of her. She looked too worn out to be thinking of anything but sleep.

  Which was just as well, because if it was his attention she wanted, he might just give it to her—and then turn her in to Sheriff Rivers tomorrow. There was no need, Cole thought with cold satisfaction, to let her know that her transparent efforts would get her nowhere, that she would have a new jailer tomorrow. Let her think she had a chance of manipulating him and she’d be less likely to try to run off tonight. He didn’t want to tie her up again unless he had to. She looked like she needed a good night’s sleep and they had a long ride to Plattsville.

  He wondered, not without a certain amount of pleasurable anticipation, if she would try to win her freedom with a display of affection tonight. Maybe he ought to let her make full use of her charms, then inform her in the morning that he was turning her over to the sheriff.

  He smiled grimly to himself, picturing her outrage.

  Maybe she’d think twice before trying her games on another man, Cole reflected. But the mere idea of her fluttering those eyelashes of hers at another man made his jaw clench.

  “Better get some sleep,” he said curtly, breaking off that uncomfortable train of thought. “We ride out at daybreak.”

  “Will we be covering as much ground as we did today?” Juliana couldn’t imagine another day like this one. Even the thought of getting to the oilskin bedding seemed an impossible task. Maybe she could crawl. Maybe she could just sleep right here on the grass. Except that it was so cold. But even the cold couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting shut.

  “More,” he answered. “And we’ll be crossing rougher territory.”

  “I didn’t know there was any rougher territory.”

  “Today was an easy route. Tomorrow I’ll show you what Arizona riding is all about.”

  I can scarcely wait. Juliana struggled to keep her shoulders from sagging. At that moment she no longer cared about her plan to attract Cole Rawdon, she no longer cared about anything. All she knew was that she had to get up and somehow get over to that oilskin. Then she’d at least be warm; he had left the saddle blanket for her. She didn’t even care about the rope anymore. If he tied her up, she wouldn’t feel it. All she wanted to feel was sleep descending upon her. Soft, beautiful sleep. All she had to do was move five steps, she told herself. Five little steps ...

  Cole heard a sound in the rocks above. Instantly, he was on his feet. The horses were quiet, apparently not disturbed by whatever he had noticed.

  He wondered if there were Apache about. A peace treaty had been signed, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. There were still plenty of renegades who didn’t give a damn about treaties with the whites, General Crook, or any number of cavalry patrols sent out to hunt them down. He scanned the rocks above, then moved stealthily to the smooth white boulder from where he had heard the sound. He watched and waited, listening with the skills he’d learned among the Cheyenne, but only the sound of wind and water reached his ears, only the spell of the night smote him. Then, suddenly, he saw a glint of tawny fur. A mountain lion leapt off the ledge twenty
feet above Cole and bounded silently toward the forest. He spotted a doe darting away into the blackness of the spruce, pursued by the big cat. The horses started, whinnying their fright. Cole gave a sigh of relief. Not Apache after all, merely a mountain lion stalking its prey. Nevertheless, he listened for a while, standing in still, perfect silence before he was finally satisfied and turned once more back to the camp.

  His prisoner was lying flat out on the grass near the fire. For one grim moment Cole thought she was dead, murdered by an Apache while his attention had been distracted by the mountain lion. He reached her in three quick strides and saw that she was asleep, peacefully curled upon the grass, her head resting against the crook of her arm, her hair flowing like molten gold across the earth. He stared down at her, breathing hard.

  Hell, she looked innocent when she slept. She also looked completely exhausted. He knelt down and studied her in the moonlight, noting the delicate lines of her cheekbones and the proud curve of her chin, and felt a strange tightening in his rib cage. Suddenly he remembered the way she had looked up in that tree, with the bear right below her. He grinned to himself. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her away from the fire, over to the gear. On impulse, he laid her down on his bedroll, which was softer and thicker than the oilskin, and covered her with the blanket. She murmured softly in her sleep and snuggled into a more comfortable position. Cole just stared at her. After a few contemplative moments, he settled down beside her and rolled up in the oilskin, covering his face with his hat.

  It was just for tonight, he told himself. Tomorrow she’d be spending the night in the Plattsville jail. And after that ... well, it didn’t matter what happened to her.

  But maybe he’d have Hank Rivers ask a few questions about this business just the same. Not that he believed her story, but ... it wouldn’t hurt to get more facts. Then he could turn her in with a clean conscience and take advantage of his chance to buy back Fire Mesa.