Nevada Heat (25 page)

Dave snorted. "Shit, woman! You don't trust nobody!"

"Not true. I don't trust men!"

“Fine. Men. Jesse. Me. But you ought to at least trust Miranda."

"Oh, I do." Shelly straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and looked at Dave steadily. “Miranda's a fine woman. None finer. But what she' don't know about men could fill this canyon."

"That right?"

“Yeah, that's right."

"Seems to me," Dave said, and walked around the edge of the table toward Shelly, "that Miranda was raised around more men than most females see in a lifetime. All kinds of men."

"That's different." Shelly backed up a step, but kept her gaze fixed on Dave.

“Why?”

“Because she's always been protected. First her pa, then Birdwell.”

He was getting too close. She took another step and felt the back doorknob press into her spine. “And now Jesse Hogan is out there somewhere, fillin' her head full of pretty lies and empty promises."

“Jesse don't seem that sort to me." Dave stepped up next to her and ran one hand up her arm lightly.

She pulled away and tried to breathe. "That's 'cause you're not a female. All of you men treat each other fairly decent. It's us women you lead up the garden path till we're so full of sunshine and roses we don't even notice we're headed for a cliff until it's too late to turn back."

“You talkin' about Miranda here?" he asked. "Or you?"

"Miranda, of course." She edged sideways, but he followed. "I won't be strollin' in no gardens again. Not for anybody."

"That so?"

"Yeah." Shelly felt his breath on her temple and swallowed heavily. If she turned her head the slightest bit, their lips would be only a hairbreadth apart. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She'd seen that "garden path" too many times in the past to be tempted into taking the trip again. Even for someone who'd been as kind to her as Dave Black.

“What if," he asked in a whisper that tickled her ear, "somebody was to ask you to try again? To trust again?”

“He'd be whistlin' in the wind." Shelly kept her face averted from his. The fresh clean scent of him surrounded her and she felt her determination weakening, despite her best efforts.

“Even if he loved you?"

She laughed suddenly. A short, harsh laugh that shattered every tender feeling that had been growing inside her. “Love? It’d take a sight more than that!" Shelly risked a glance at him and saw that she'd surprised him. She didn't want to talk about this anymore. She didn't want to talk about herself.

She had to save Miranda. Quickly she grabbed the doorknob, turned, and tried to leave. Dave stopped her, one strong hand holding the door shut. "Where you goin'?”

"Told you. To see Birdwell."

“Leave it be, Shelly. Leave Miranda and Jesse be."

“No."

He grabbed her shoulders and held tight. “Dammit, Shelly. Miranda's a big girl. She don't need you to take care of her." She looked away, but he took her chin in his hands and turned her back to face him. "And no matter what you think… Jesse Hogan ain't a bad sort." His fingers smoothed down the line of her throat. “And neither am I."

"Don't, Dave." She reached up and brushed his hand aside.

"Shelly, I got somethin' to say to you and I want you to listen careful."

“No. I heard all this before." Shoving past him, she walked around the edge of the table until she was a safe distance from him.

"What? What'd you hear?" His palms flat on the table, he cocked his head, grinned, and waited.

Shelly shook her head and smiled grimly. "All right. You gonna tell me how pretty I am. How sweet. You're gonna promise to buy me fancy dresses and take me to the big city. We'll go to fine restaurants and ride in shiny carriages." She bit her lip, gulped in air, and continued. "You're gonna fix it so's I never have to do no work again. We'll see plays and meet fine people. We'll…" She covered her mouth with her fingertips and stared at him.

Dave watched her silently for a long moment. Then he slowly walked around the table until he stood beside her. Shaking his head, he smiled ruefully. "Shelly, darlin'. Now can I talk?"

She didn't move.

His right hand moved to cup her cheek and his thumb wiped away a solitary tear. "I wasn't gonna say none of that."

She looked up, surprised but quiet.

“I ain't got much money. So I can't promise you no fancy dresses. Nor shiny carriages nor fine restaurants. I can't even promise you'll never have to work again." Dave's other hand moved to her hair and smoothed it back over her shoulder. “I can tell you how pretty you are, though. And you surely are, Shelly." He sighed softly. "And I can tell you that I'll always stay with you."

She looked away, but he tilted her chin up determinedly.

"Shelly, I love you." Her doubt must have shown on her face, because he gave her a sad smile. “I know you got no reason to believe me. But I'll prove it to you in twenty or thirty years if you'll let me."

Her brows drew together in confusion.

“I'm askin' you to marry me, Shelly."

Her jaw dropped.

“I'm askin' you to let me love you. To help me build a home. To have my babies and then to get old with me." He grinned. “I want to be a crotchety old bastard and watch the lines of a long life of lovin' fill your face. I want us to give each other looks that other folks will be jealous over. And I want our children's children to point to us and say, "That's the kinda life I want. That's the kinda love I want."

Unshed tears shimmered in Shelly’s eyes and she blinked them back. She couldn't believe he was serious. No one had ever wanted her to be a wife. A mother. Carefully she searched his gaze, looking for some small sign of deception. But she saw only the same gentleness she'd always seen in his eyes.

Married? For one brief moment Shelly let herself entertain the notion. A husband and a family was all she'd ever really wanted. And if she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that Dave Black stirred feelings and desires in her that she'd thought long buried. But an outlaw? As a husband?

She remembered Serena's worried face during her pregnancy. All the time wondering about Pike and if he was safe. No. If she married Dave, she'd still be in the fryin' pan… only this time she'd have him to worry about as well as herself. The three years she'd spent in Bandit's Canyon had taught her that she liked being safe. She enjoyed not being on the run or lookin' over her shoulder all the time.

Shelly touched Dave's cheek gently. Rising up onto her toes, she gave him a kiss for the first and last time and tried to ignore the rush of pleasure it brought.

"Thank you, Dave." She stepped back and half turned toward the door. “I thought to never be asked and I'm grateful to you. But I can't marry an outlaw. I can't live like that no more."

"Shelly…" She shook her head and hurried to the backdoor. Dave grabbed her before she could slip outside.

Daye turned her around to face him, then, his fingers under her chin, he forced her to look up at him. Tenderly he wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks, took a deep breath, and said softly, "Shelly, I'm gonna tell you somethin' I got no business tellin'. If word of this gets out, I'm as good as dead. So's Buck."

“What… ?" Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Only reason I'm tellin' you is so's you'll see you got nothin' to fear from me. I love you. And now I'm fixin' to trust you with my life." His hands cupped her face gently. “I ain't no outlaw, Shelly. Neither's Buck. We're Texas Rangers. Sent here after one fella did some killin' back home."

Her eyes wide, she stared at him. His voice was almost lost under the roaring in her ears.

Dave grinned at her stunned expression. "Y'see now, Shelly? I ain't lyin'. And I wasn't lyin' before when I asked you to marry me. Come home to Texas with me, Shelly."

Hand over her mouth, Shelly stared at him silently. Her eyes filled and streams of tears rolled down her cheeks.

#

The uneasy silence between them lasted until they reached the edge of town. Close to the corral, Jesse stopped suddenly and without a word handed the basket to Miranda.

“Jesse,” she said quietly as she tried one last time to make him listen to reason, "can't you see that this 'hunt' you're on isn't right? You're giving up your whole life to make up for something that wasn't your fault."

“You don't understand, Miranda."

“Yes, I do." Anger flared up. "My father died two years ago, too. I know what grief is. I know how hard it is to accept."

“It ain't just the grief, Miranda." Jesse snatched his hat off and stared at her, desperate to make her see. “Hell, folks die. I know that. But a huntin' accident and cold-blooded murder ain't the same thing. And grief passes." His hands came up, then dropped. “'Guilt don't."

“But…"

He shook his head firmly. “No matter what you say, I know. It's my fault. I should've been there." Twisting his hat brim in his hands, he mumbled, “Thought for a while maybe…"

Thought what? she asked herself furiously. That she would smile and say go on ahead, Jesse. Waste your life and mine. Miranda bit down hard on her bottom lip. Her fingers curled tightly over the handle of the basket. She pulled a deep breath into her body, and deliberately pushed away any further attempt at tender sympathy. Maybe he'd had enough of that already. From himself.

She couldn't believe it. All her life she'd managed to avoid having any special feelings for the men riding through her life. When she finally did find the one man she wanted, despite everything, he set her aside.

"So what you're saying is, you're just going to walk away from me… from everything."

His gaze snapped up to hers. "I never said I was gonna stay, Miranda. And as for walkin' away, well." He pulled a deep breath into his lungs and said gruffly, "Don't you worry about that. I'll stay around long enough to make sure you ain't carryin' a child."

"What?"

"You heard me." He shoved his hat on and pulled it low over his ears. Squinting at her, he continued. "Maybe you ain't thought of it yet, but you could be carryin'."

Eyes narrowed, Miranda nodded her head slowly and listened to him in silent astonishment.

“And you don't have to worry 'bout that. If you are, I'll take care of ya. And the baby. It's all my fault. I ain't the kind to walk away from my, uh…"

"Mistakes?” she offered, her voice dripping with sarcasm he didn't notice.

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't have called it that, but you know…"

"Yes." Miranda's mouth twisted in an effort to contain all the curse words trying to get out. “I do know." She took a step closer and poked his chest with one finger. “You don't want me enough to stop what you're doing, but you're willing to marry me anyway for the sake of a child you might have created?"

“Well…”

"Don't bother." Miranda glared at him. “I don't want your help. Or your guilt. You don't owe me a damn thing, Jesse Hogan."

“Just a damn minute!"

"No!" Miranda couldn't believe this. “If I am expecting, I’ll take care of the baby myself. No child needs a father who considers him a 'mistake.’”

"That ain't what I meant."

“It's what you said." She whirled away from him, took a few steps, then stopped again. "And I don't want a man who's determined to stay only half-alive until he can get himself killed." Miranda shook her head sadly and pulled in a shaky breath. “Let's just pretend today never happened, Jesse." She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You go back to avoiding me. You keep on snapping and snarling at anyone who gets too close. And when you don't find your man here, you just leave and go on hunting him."

Jesse straightened and clenched his jaw, but he kept silent under her tirade.

"And when you're an old, lonely man with nothing more to show for the years gone and missed except a saddle and a few memories that will be more smoke than substance, you remember today."

Her eyes raked over him slowly, as if taking his measure and finding him wanting. He shifted position uneasily under her stare.

“Remember what you gave up. And try to wonder what might have been." She turned away again. "See, Jesse, you had a choice to make today. You had to choose between the dead and the living. Revenge or love." As she started to walk toward her cabin she added, “I hope you can live with the choice you made."

Chapter 15

Jesse stood in the lowering shadows by the corral and watched Miranda walk away from him. He snatched his hat off and slapped it against his thighs. He opened his mouth to call her back, then closed it again. Right now Jesse didn't trust himself to talk to her.

What the hell was wrong with her anyway? All he'd done was offer to do the right thing! Lord, he didn't even want to think about what she would have done if he hadn't offered to marry her! And just who did she think she was, tellin' him that he had no right to his own child?