Whirlwind Wedding (25 page)

“This can't be,” she whispered. “I want to be there when you talk to him.”

“No. He needs to tell me in his own words.” Jericho fought the urge to shake her or kiss her until she understood. Until she
agreed
with him. He scooped his shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head. “This is between him and me.”

She rose, the sheet bunched around her slender curves, pressed tight to her breasts. “At least let me go with you to Riley's.”

“It's better if you don't. If things work out, Andrew will take me from there to the McDougals. You're not getting anywhere near them again,” he said gruffly, his throat closing up at the thought.

“What will you do? Just talk to him?”

“Yes.”

“Then take him to jail?” Her voice cracked.

“I don't know.”

“If you do, will you bring him here first? I don't want him to be alone.”

“I can do that.”

She lifted her head, tears swimming in her eyes. “And then what? You leave and take him with you?”

“I'm not leaving, Catherine.” He clenched his fist to keep from reaching for her. “Ever. I told you that and I meant it.”

He refused to consider that he might have just killed any feelings she had for him.

He took a step toward her, needing to touch her, hold her. Make her understand or at least accept. When she didn't retreat, something hot clutched at his throat. Gently he took her hand and folded it into his.

She didn't pull away. She couldn't. She did believe Jericho wouldn't leave. The raw agony in his eyes told her he hurt as much as she did, that she hadn't imagined his feelings for her. But how would they ever be able to deal with this? If Andrew went to prison, Catherine would never forget that Jericho had sent him there. And what if her brother really had killed Hays Gentry? Injured Jericho so severely that he might never have full use of his hand? Committed murder?

If Andrew had done those things, he should pay for it. But she didn't know if
she
could.

“It'll work out,” Jericho said softly.

“You don't know that.”

The agony in her blue eyes had him aching clear to his toes. “I want it to. Don't you?”

“I don't want to have to choose,” she said with a sob, her hand squeezing his hard.

He stroked a knuckle down her cheek, breathing in her fresh scent and the faint spice of their mingled bodies. “Expecting Andrew to take responsibility for what he's done isn't making you choose.”

“I can't go to him without you thinking I'm betraying you. I can't stay with you without making Andrew feel he's been abandoned.”

Jericho's eyes closed, regret and frustration jagging through him. There was no sense putting it off any longer. “I have to go,” he said quietly.

She winced as if he'd laid a whip to her. He wanted to take her back to bed and love her until the issue went away, but it wouldn't. Despite the protest ripping through him, he released her hand.

Hurt darkened her eyes, but she let him go. He walked out of her bedroom, through the front room.

Close behind him, her voice quivered. “He's all I have left.”

“You have me.” Jericho turned, his chest aching at the raw vulnerability on her features.

Her face crumpled and her voice was so faint he could barely hear it. “If you take him, I don't know if I can be with you.”

He'd half expected the words, but not the crippling hurt in their wake, the brutal slashing of his defenses. “I won't let you go, Catherine. I can't.”

Tears welled in her eyes, magnifying the brilliant pain of loss and betrayal in the blue depths. She didn't reply, just stared for a long moment, then looked away.

Jericho forced his feet to move, to carry him outside. He went to the barn for Cinco, shaken to the core to realize that Catherine might not ever be able to accept what he did today. And if it meant he lost her, Jericho wasn't sure he could accept it, either.

J
ericho managed to saddle Cinco and mount up. Clenching his teeth at the painful jarring, he rode hard behind the businesses of Whirlwind and headed west toward Riley's ranch.

Angus McDougal had touched Catherine. Not just with his hands, but also his mouth. Fury raked through Jericho like a jagged blade. His hands shook.

As much as he wanted to lay all that fury on the eldest McDougal, Jericho was the one who had hurt her deeply. He tried to push away the picture of utter helplessness, the devastation on Catherine's face.

Once this was over, they could sort things out. Couldn't they? He wouldn't consider that they were finished before they had even started. A fierce urgency to be done with this business about Andrew and the gang seared him. Locking out further, distracting thoughts of Catherine, Jericho marshaled his anger into calculating a strategy. First, talk to Andrew, then get him to lead the way to the McDougals.

Andrew. Jericho replayed the ambush in his mind. He and Hays had been hard on the gang's trail for two days. They had approached a shallow slope of land and the McDougals had rushed over the slight incline ahead.

Andrew had been in the front, his horse next to Angus's, the three brothers fanned out behind them. Jericho and Hays had been caught completely unaware. They both dived from their horses in a hail of bullets. Sharp pain had burned through Jericho's gun hand, his right thigh. Lying on the ground, his blood soaking the earth, he had watched in a fog as his friend fell. The bullet had come from the boy. The outlaws rode off, no doubt believing they had killed both Rangers.

Dragging his mind back to the present, Jericho cursed. Andrew had been there, and Jericho thought the boy had committed murder but he wasn't certain. He couldn't dismiss it, even for the woman he'd come to love more than life itself.

He was a mile from Whirlwind when he saw a horse coming fast. As the coal-black animal neared, Jericho realized the rider was Riley. He reined up as his cousin's mount danced to a stop beside him.

“I was coming to find you,” Riley said.

“I was just coming to your ranch,” Jericho said at the same time.

Noting the concern that darkened his cousin's face, Jericho tightened his hand on the reins. “What is it? Susannah? Have the McDougals—”

“It's Andrew. The kid's gone.”

Damn his scrawny little hide. “Since when?”

“I'm not sure. Probably an hour or less.”

Dread unfurled as Jericho thought about the boy trying to break ties with the outlaws. “Did he leave on his own?”

“I think so. Susannah would've heard if anyone came close to the house. She said he was out in the pen with one of my mares when she went in to give Button a bath, then feed her and put her down for a nap. When she came back outside, she noticed Andrew was gone.”

Why couldn't the kid stay put? Now that Jericho knew An
drew had tried to distance himself from the gang, he worried about the boy's safety even more. And if Catherine found out…

“Maybe he's gone home,” his cousin suggested.

Jericho had no idea what Andrew would do.

Riley swept off his hat and wiped an arm across his perspiring forehead. “Susannah said something's going on with him and Catherine. Catherine wouldn't give her any details, but she was quite upset when she brought Andrew out to the ranch. I thought you might want to know.”

“Thanks.” His concern edged into irritation. “He may have gone to the McDougals.”

Surprise flashed across the other man's face. “Why would he do that?”

“I'll tell you on the way to town.” Jericho swung Cinco around. “Can you help me look for him?”

“Sure.”

“The more men, the better,” he muttered, kneeing the Appaloosa into motion. “We need to find him fast.”

“What's going on?” Riley urged his own horse into a lope and they headed back to Whirlwind. “Is he in danger?”

“Very likely.” He told his cousin about Andrew's involvement with the gang and what had transpired that morning at the widow Monfrey's house. Riley's features were hard when they reached the jail and dismounted.

When Jericho got his hands on that kid, he was going to tan his hide. He hoped something hadn't happened to Andrew. And he hoped Catherine didn't learn the boy had skedaddled before Jericho found him.

 

For long minutes after Jericho left, Catherine stood rooted to the floor, holding the door so her legs wouldn't give out. Her head spun. Jericho loved her. And he meant to arrest her brother.

Hard on the heels of their lovemaking—the most beautiful, meaningful experience of her life—had come the revelation that Jericho had known all along about her brother's involvement with the McDougals. He had come here because of Andrew. He had stayed because of him.

Hurt was the one emotion she could define out of all those crowding through her. She loved Jericho, too, but how could she accept what he meant to do? Logic said she should understand he was doing his job, but logic was buried beneath the stifling extremes of euphoria, devastation, loss.

It was too much. The crush of feelings confused her, flayed her nerves like a newly whetted knife until she went numb. She moved woodenly into her room, staring at the bed, the rumpled sheets where she had given herself to Jericho. She knew he didn't want her with Andrew when he questioned him, and she would respect that. But she wouldn't let her brother face this alone. He'd faced too much alone already.

Maybe if she'd gone against Mother's wishes and come to Whirlwind earlier, Andrew wouldn't have felt the need to keep company with a family of outlaws. She could go to Riley's ranch and let Andrew know she was there, but stay at a distance until Jericho finished. She pulled on her underclothes, then the light dimity dress that he had taken off of her. At the memory of what they had shared, a bittersweet pain stole her breath.

With shaking fingers, she buttoned her dress, then laced up her shoes, and starting to braid her hair as she walked out of her bedroom toward the back of the house, heading for the barn.

When she stepped off the stoop, the door clattered shut behind her. She stopped dead at the sight of Angus Mc
Dougal reining up ten feet away. Her arms fell limply to her sides as panic choked her. How had he known where they lived?

Fear and anger and a desperate plea for Jericho, for anyone, tangled inside her.

“I figured I might have to come in there and get you.”

“What do you want?” She backed up until her heel hit the step.

“More medicine.” His lecherous gaze crawled over her.

“He can't have already used that entire bottle!”

“He needs some for travelin'. C'mon now. There isn't much time. I waited until your Ranger left, but I won't be waitin' for him to get back.”

Angus had been watching the house? Any attempt at bluffing about Jericho being there would be futile. A shiver ran down her spine. She fervently wished he would return right now.

McDougal urged his horse closer and motioned to her sharply. She shook her head, feeling her way onto the stoop. She wasn't going anywhere with him.

“I ain't got all day. You're ridin' with me to that fort for more laudanum.”

For a minute Catherine's brain was too frozen by the fact that he was here and she was alone. “No.”

His face darkened and he started to dismount.

“No! I mean, going to the fort isn't necessary.” She did not want him coming near her or trying to get into her house. “I have some laudanum here.”

If she could get inside without him, and slip out the front, she could run for town.

Angus stopped in midmotion, one foot already on the ground. “Get it then and be quick about it.”

She backed into the house, not taking her gaze from him. “Stay there. I'll hurry.”

A cruel smile twisted his lips.

“Stay there. Please.” Once inside, she snatched up her skirts and hurried to the front door, opening it soundlessly and stepping onto the porch.

The unmistakable cock of a gun had her gasping in alarm.

“I figured you might try this.” Angus stood at the corner of the house, his pistol leveled at her.

Bless the saints, what was she going to do?

“Now you go in there and get that medicine.” He leaped onto the porch quite nimbly for a man with such short legs, and edged along the wall. “Just to be sure you don't try anything stupid, I'll come with you.”

She thought about lunging off the porch, but when his gun nudged her ribs, she backed into the front room. She was shaking so hard that her muscles burned. With his weapon trained on her, she wouldn't be able to go for the shotgun behind the door. All she could do was pacify him, get the medicine and pray he would leave.

“All right,” she said. “I'm getting it.”

“Where is it?”

“In the pantry.”

His gaze went over her shoulder to the tall cabinet that held her good dishes. “Go on.”

She edged around the table, her gaze riveted on the gun, which she actually preferred to his vicious face. Groping behind her for the latch, she opened the cabinet door, then knelt, giving a quick glance back before her fingers closed on the bottle of medicine Jericho had never used.

The glass container slipped in her sweat-dampened hands, but she grabbed it and rose, offering it to Angus.
Just take it and go,
she willed silently.

“Uh-huh.” He waggled the gun at her, gestured toward the door. “You're gonna take it out back for me.”

She fought down the rising swell of panic, telling herself to remain calm.
Just do as he says and he'll leave.
Without turning her back on him, she stepped sideways behind the stove and around the wall, inching down the narrow passageway.

He closed the distance between them, forcing her out the door and off the stoop. When he moved around her, Catherine turned, keeping him in her sights. Her hand trembled on the bottle.

Pistol aimed steadily, he mounted without taking his gaze from her. Sliding his gun back into its holster, he gestured for her to give him the medicine.

She had to step forward to do it. When she did, his hand shot out, clamped on her wrist. She cried out, jerking against his grasp as he pried the bottle from her fingers. He kept a firm hold on her as he slid it into the saddlebag.

“Okay, you've got your medicine. Let go!”

Snatching at her upper arms, he hauled her off the ground, his fingers digging in with bone-crushing pressure.

“No! No!” She kicked and struggled, trying to throw him off balance.

He tightened his grip and shoved her facedown over the saddle. Her left sleeve ripped from her dress.

She reared up, screaming. Her head slammed into his chin as she tried to throw herself off. He crammed a dirty kerchief into her mouth. Then he clucked to the horse, which lurched into motion.

Terror iced her veins. No! She struggled, the pommel biting sharply into her hip as she came up off the saddle and clawed at his face. Her nails raked his forehead and one eye.

In the next heartbeat, he punched her. Light burst behind her eyes as her head jerked back. She sagged across the saddle, tasting the salty tang of blood.

Dazed by the blow, she didn't realize what he was about
until he flipped her toward him and raised her into a sitting position as if she weighed no more than that bottle of laudanum. He arranged her so that she rode sidesaddle, and lashed her hands to the pommel. Vaguely she realized the horse had stopped. She struggled sluggishly, her efforts easily thwarted when he kicked the gelding into a gallop.

Jericho!
Catherine's stunned mind screamed his name over and over as they bounced along. Grass and dirt flew beneath her. She curled her hands around the saddle horn, the rope biting into her wrists. The overwhelming odors of sweat and tobacco, so strong this morning at the widow's house, nearly choked her.

Angus bit her earlobe and she cried out. “That medicine ain't all I came for. I liked that little taste I had of you this morning. When we get settled, I'm gonna take me a big ol' bite.”

She arched as far away from him as she could. Crushed between the saddle horn and his thighs, she felt her composure break, and she sobbed behind the gag.

Where was he taking her? What did he plan to do? How long before someone realized she was gone?

How long before
Jericho
realized it?

 

Jericho was behind Riley, heading into Davis Lee's office, when he heard someone call his name. Looking toward the end of town, he saw Andrew on Moe, the pair of them flying down the middle of the street.

“Jericho!” The kid's voice was sharp with alarm. The mare pounded past the Whirlwind Hotel, the telegraph office, swerving around a small group of people about to enter the Pearl Restaurant.

“He doesn't look any the worse for wear,” Riley muttered beside him.

Something was wrong. Jericho moved to the bottom step.

“He took her!” Andrew reined the mare to a skidding stop, spraying dirt and pebbles. He nearly slid off the horse's bare back.

Jericho reached out a hand to steady him. “What—”

“Angus took Catherine! Just now. I saw him!”

Between one heartbeat and the next, a black haze blurred Jericho's vision, and for a moment he could register only a buzzing in his head. Cursing, he swung back into the saddle, roaring, “What are you talkin' about? And you better tell me the whole truth.”

He ignored Riley's surprised look at his harsh tone. By now Davis Lee and Jake Ross had come out of the sheriff's office to join them.

“I couldn't stay with Miz Susannah,” Andrew panted, his face flushed. “I didn't want Catherine to be alone, so I went home. I was at the front door when I heard a scream from behind the house. By the time I got back there, Angus had Catherine and he was riding off!”