Texan's Touch, page 11
Tonight, the nun sat alone by the window, her rosary circling her hands. When he entered, she looked at him with tear-wet cheeks.
“How is the girl?” she asked in a whisper.
“Better,” Adam answered. “I gave her something to help the pain so she can sleep. She was sent here because her brother thought she’d be safe.” He laughed, without humor.
“She’s in great danger. The men who took the stage would have her dead along with the others. I’ve heard of these men. They kill for fun and think to become legends.”
Adam watched the nun closely. She knew more than she was saying, but he’d learned it was a waste of time to inquire. “You’ve told Nance to be quiet about our guest?”
The nun nodded.
Adam waited a minute for her to add more. When she didn’t, he moved to the stairway. “I’ll check on Nichole, then call it a night.” He knew that once he turned on his study light, the night people would tap on his door if they needed him. Maybe one of them would have news of the robbers.
“I’ll help your friend all I can.” The nun went back to her prayers. “And another will watch over her, too.”
Adam wondered what more she could do as he climbed the stairs. When he opened Nichole’s door, he found her sitting on the edge of her bed still fully dressed.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now.” He stepped inside her room and closed the door.
“I couldn’t work the buttons with these bandages.” She looked up to him once more for help.
Adam knelt on one knee in front of her and began unbuttoning her shirt in what he hoped was a professional manner. “I’m sorry,” he said without looking at her face. If he looked in those green eyes, he’d have trouble remembering how buttons worked.
“I didn’t want to come,” Nichole whispered. “I wanted to stay with Wolf and fight for our land.”
“I understand.” He guessed she was trying to tell him that she hadn’t traveled all this way to see him.
“Wolf said to find any of the McLains. If you want, I could go to Daniel or Wes.”
He pulled her sleeves gently over her bandages as he removed her shirt. “Wes is somewhere on the range rounding up cattle. Daniel is in a settlement near Dallas. You’d probably be safest with him, if we could get you there in one piece.”
Standing, she held her arms away from her sides as he worked the buttons on her trousers. “You want me to go?”
Adam stopped with both hands on her waist ready to push her pants down. “No,” he answered, feeling her nearness as he always did. “I just want you safe.”
Nichole laughed. “I’ve never been safe.”
Pushing the trousers to the floor, he helped her out of them. She wore plain cotton leggings and a cotton chemise with lace at the shoulder. The undergarments were store-bought and plain but far more feminine than anything he’d seen on her.
As he stared, she smiled and touched her leg, pulling the material with a bandaged hand. “They’re called pantalettes. Funny name. Wolf bought them for me. I never had any woman clothes, but I like the feel of them next to me, even underneath my trousers.”
If he’d expected her to be embarrassed or modest, he was greatly disappointed. She turned around as if showing him a new outfit and not her undergarments. The line of her tall, lean body showed clearly. Her breasts were full, her waist small, her legs long and slender.
“I wasn’t sure I was wearing them right until one night at the stage station when I saw other women with them. We all took off our dresses and slept in these. It was almost like a party where everyone came in their underwear.”
Adam tried not to notice the way the cotton molded around her breasts or how the lace showed one shoulder almost bare through the fine material.
“You ever see such clothes?”
“No,” he lied. “They look quite serviceable to sleep in.”
Sweat dripped off his forehead, but he wasn’t about to tell her that he’d seen women dressed in chemises made of all lace and no cotton. They’d had big breasts and painted cheeks and offered their services by the hour… but they hadn’t been half as alluring as Nichole.
“You’d better get to bed. With the salve, your hands will feel much better in the morning.” He tried to sound like a stern father, or a worried doctor, anyone except a lover, which is exactly what he’d like to be.
“All right.” She climbed into the tiny cot of a bed and let him pull up the covers.
“Good night.” He leaned and planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead.
“Good night, Doc,” she answered, already half-asleep.
TWELVE
ADAM SPENT HALF the night thinking of reasons not to go up to Nichole’s room. She’d told him she hadn’t wanted to come to Texas. The burns on her hands must be hurting. She needed sleep. Wolf had sent her to him for protection.
So he paced his study, then went across to the two rooms he used as his doctor’s office. After cleaning and restocking everything he could think of, he wandered into the little room by the kitchen that he’d made his bedroom.
His room was stark, plain, and colorless, but it had two advantages. The one curtainless window faced the east and caught the morning sun and the room was always warm from the kitchen fire. But tonight the very walls were closing in around him.
He’d spent six months having conversations with an absent Nichole and now she was only a floor away. They had nothing in common, she wasn’t the kind of woman he should be attracted to, yet the need to see her was an ache in his gut the size of a cannonball.
He wanted to tell her what he’d done and how he helped people, all kinds of people. He wanted to remind her of that morning when he’d almost given up being a doctor. She’d verbally slapped him hard with her cutting words and lack of sympathy. She’d woken him up to the fact that he had to be satisfied with the best he could do sometimes. The effort counted, not just the outcome.
Adam finally convinced himself he would only check on her, and stepped into the darkened foyer in the center of the house. In the corner of his vision, where the last touch of moonlight lit the back of the stairs, he saw something move.
A chill slid down his spine like a crawling glacier. His first thought was that somehow Nichole had been followed and someone was trying to kill her.
But the figure moved past the stairs and into the kitchen at a slow, almost painful pace.
Adam pulled down his rifle he kept hidden over the foyer cabinet and followed. The people of the night knew he would help them without asking questions. They always came to the side door off his office. This was no patient creeping through his house. Even in shadow, this unknown guest was crippled and twisted with age, or pain.
The kitchen was dark with only a low glow from the banked fire to dust any light across the room. Before Adam’s eyes could adjust to the blackness, the back door opened slightly with a low creek, then closed just as quietly.
In long strides, Adam reached the door and stepped onto the porch. Nothing. The porch and the alley beyond was silent, deserted except for old Terry who raised his head in greeting.
Adam knelt and patted the dog. Terry was a good watchdog. He always barked when strangers stepped on the porch. Whoever passed through the house tonight was no stranger to the animal. Somehow the knowledge disturbed Adam far more than the possibility that someone might have tried to break in.
Silently, he moved inside and up the back stairs. When he opened the door to a storage room where they’d hidden Nichole, he was surprised to see the nun sitting by her bed. The room was cluttered with boxes and old furniture, but he noticed she had covered the boxes beside Nichole with a cotton tablecloth.
Adam straightened to his most professional manner. “How is she?”
“She’s restless.” The nun closed her prayer book. “I’m afraid she’ll wake herself by hitting her hands against something. She keeps moving, fighting in her sleep.”
He leaned over the bed. Nichole was sleeping, her hair tossed wildly, her face slightly sunburned. She’d never looked more beautiful. What was it about this woman that made him feel like a thunderstorm was going on inside him? She was as far from a lady as she could get with her short hair and men’s clothing. Yet she touched him in a way no one ever had, and he found the idea disturbing. Seeing her was like coming down with the croup and waking up to Christmas morning at the same time.
“The young woman is almost starved.” Sister broke into his thoughts. “I plan on making it my calling to get at least three meals a day into her.”
He looked more closely. She did seem thinner and her hair was a few inches longer than he remembered. The months since they’d seen one another must have been hard on her. She was a free spirit who would have to learn to settle down now that the war was over.
“Do you think we can protect her here?” he wondered aloud to himself.
“We can try. I’ll do what I can. You give her the medicine that helps her sleep without the pain and I’ll keep watch.”
“Her brother sent her here to safety. Now that she’s witnessed a murder and robbery she could be in great danger if anyone found out she was on the stage. I wouldn’t want to depend on the deputy for help.”
“She’s safer here with us.” The nun nodded in agreement. “The only one we have to be careful about is Mrs. Jamison, and she only comes out of her room in the afternoon. The rest of the time she likes to sit by the window and pretend she’s in better times.”
Nichole moved in her sleep, reaching across the covers for something that wasn’t there. The movement made her cry out softly in pain.
Kneeling to her coat Adam pulled out the handgun she’d wrapped so carefully out of sight. Gently, he emptied the shells and placed the weapon at her side. A bandaged hand passed over the metal, and she relaxed in sleep.
He looked up expecting the nun to be frowning, but she showed no judgment in her face.
The nun finally whispered a statement that awaited no answer as she pulled the covers over Nichole. “Our poor Nichole, she lives by the gun, doesn’t she? I’ll keep watch on her tonight, Doctor.”
Adam nodded, realizing the foolish notion he’d had of kissing Nichole good night was just that, foolish. He’d better get a handle on this unreasonable attraction for Wolf’s sister before he made an idiot of himself. They had nothing in common. Nothing. Except that every time he saw her he had to fight himself to keep from holding her, and he knew deep down she felt the same.
Walking slowly back to his room, he thought that just as Nichole needed the comfort of her weapon, Adam knew he needed her at his side. It didn’t matter that they’d only slept in one another’s arms twice. His need to hold her was basic, primal. He needed to feel her heart beat next to his once in a while. But she respected only strength and would think him weak for ever saying such a thing.
His job was to guard her until Wolf came, nothing more. All he had to do was keep her out of harm’s way. Then they both could get on with their lives and never cross paths again. Nichole loved adventure, excitement. She needed to be free. All he wanted was to settle down and live a quiet life as a doctor. Bergette had taught him that to dream for more was only that, a dream.
But by midmorning the next day, it seemed dreams turned quickly into nightmares. Trouble arrived wrapped in lace and any hope of a quiet life seemed shattered.
Troops from Fort Griffin rode in with the stage. Half the town turned out to see them and Adam joined the crowd, watching from across the street. Adam was relieved there had been no trouble and turned to go back home when a tiny woman stepped from the stage.
She was dressed in a wine red traveling suit and wore a hat to match with long enough feathers to have bothered everyone who rode the stagecoach. Her blond curls were tied with ribbons and decorated one side of the front of her jacket from shoulder to waist. She was stunning.
Everyone in the street stopped to watch her. But only Adam’s face turned pale.
Bergette looked slowly around until her gaze met his.
From across the street he could see she’d lost none of her beauty.
She walked directly toward him, smiling as if she hadn’t threatened to have him sliced to bits the last time she’d spoken to him.
“You must be Dr. McLain,” a cavalry officer voiced from just behind Adam as Bergette crossed the street toward them.
“Yes,” Adam answered without smiling. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the officer pulled his gun and arrested him. There was no telling what Bergette had said about him. Maybe she hadn’t been happy ruining his name in Indiana, maybe she planned to spread his mistreatment of her through the West.
“You’re a lucky man. The little lady hasn’t stopped talking about you since Dallas.” The lieutenant slapped Adam on the shoulder as Bergette grew closer. “ ’Morning, Miss Dupont. I was just telling your fiancé how lucky he is to have you willing to come all this way to be his little wife.”
Bergette’s smile could have melted a Gatling gun from a hundred yards. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” She placed a gloved hand on the officer’s sleeve. “But I’m afraid I have given my dear Adam quite a shock. You see, he wasn’t expecting me.”
Adam knew the small crowd around him was listening. Harry was bobbing up and down to see over the heads of those in front of him. In a town where most women considered dressing up putting on a starched apron, Bergette was quite a sight.
“Welcome to Texas, Bergette,” Adam managed to say with a forced smile.
“Thank you,” she answered sweetly as she leaned and almost touched his cheek with a kiss. “I just couldn’t stay away from you any longer, darling.”
“I see she’s here! That’s her, ain’t it, Doc!” Harry yelled. “I’m mighty glad she wasn’t the woman on the stage two days ago.” Harry’s normally twitchy body seemed to have been wound to double-time with the excitement of seeing such a pretty lady.
The young station operator broke the spell on the crowd and everyone moved about their business. The young officer excused himself to return to his duties, and the stage driver pointed toward two huge trunks left behind as though he expected Adam to do something about them. Bergette simply turned away, as always, expecting someone else to take care of the details.
“You surely didn’t come alone, Miss Dupont?” Adam looked around at the other passengers across the street claiming luggage.
“Of course not.” Bergette giggled. “Charles and Lily are with me, but I’ll know true hardship without my cook and personal maid.”
Adam offered her his arm, and they moved into the shade. He’d recovered from the shock, but still found his muscles tense as if waiting for a blow he knew would come. “Why are you here?” he whispered between clenched teeth as they strolled.
Bergette pouted a moment, as if hating to answer. Her temperament made him almost laugh aloud. Could it be possible that she thought he’d run to her when he saw her step off the stage? Surely she wasn’t that short of memory, or that vain?
“When Papa returned from Indianapolis, he wasn’t happy about our broken engagement.” She played with one of her perfect curls as she spoke. “You’re a returning hero, a doctor, a McLain.”
Adam stopped walking. “What does my name have to do with our engagement being canceled? Or anything else for that matter.”
Bergette looked around, as if hoping to be distracted from this conversation. “Your father was one of the immigrant bosses on the work crews that built the canals.”
“That was years ago!” Adam snapped.
“But if my papa runs for state office, people have long memories. The older men will remember your father, the younger may remember you or your brothers. Papa had no son in the war, and you know he didn’t have the health to fight.” She began to pout again. “He said I let him down. I hurt his chances of election. Oh, Adam, you wouldn’t believe how he talked to me!”
“I’m sorry,” Adam tried to sound sympathetic. To be honest, he doubted his family name would help much in getting the old man elected. Dupont had been a selfish, self-centered, money-hungry fool for far too long. His only talent in life had been to father a beautiful daughter.
“So.” He tried to follow her reasoning. “You ran away?”
“No,” she answered as she dabbed at dry eyes. “I ran to see you once more. I just had to talk to you.”
Adam didn’t want to talk to her. He’d said all he planned to say the morning he’d left her house. “Have you already arranged for a place to stay?” Adam asked, knowing she probably hadn’t and hoping to change the subject.
“I thought you’d recommend a hotel or boardinghouse. But the officer who rode in with the stage said he thought the doc in Fort Worth lived in a boardinghouse.” She tilted her head and smiled, as if for a portrait. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
“I do,” Adam could feel the hinges of the trapdoor beneath his feet starting to creak, “but there are only three rooms vacant, and they need a great deal of work before they can be rented. The owner is recovering from a long illness. And I’m making noise all day and night with patients coming. And-”
“I’ll survive.” Bergette lifted her chin. “Show me the way. Papa made sure I had enough money to be comfortable in this primitive state.”
Adam planted his feet square apart and folded his arms. “Hold on. First, I don’t know if Mrs. Jamison is willing or able to take on three new boarders, and second, we need to get something straight right now, Bergette. We are not engaged to be married.” He wanted to add a third that he had all he could handle hiding a woman from Mrs. Jamison, much less bringing another home.
Bergette pulled at one of her curls so hard it needed reironing. “All right, Adam. We’re engaged to be engaged. And we will be no problem to this Mrs. Jamison. Charles and Lily will take care of me. I’ll offer whatever’s necessary to talk her into letting me stay. But I’ve decided to give you another chance and I’ll hear no argument.”
