Wyoming Wildfire (41 page)

Only partly awake, Burch lay staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes. He must not have moved all night. He was tempted to turn over and go back to sleep, but his slumbers had not been very restful. All night he lay dreaming about cows and storms and elusive strangers moving among the shadows just out of his reach. The whole while he had the feeling that the shadow was a continuing danger to him, that even now it was circling, waiting.

His dreams of Sibyl were even more troubling. She was moving farmer and farther away from him, and the harder he tried to reach her the farther away she moved. Yet all the while she looked beseechingly toward him, pleading for him to come to her, calling out to him to take hold of her outstretched hand. He struggled, but his body felt heavier and heavier, and she moved inexorably away from him until she disappeared from sight. After such dreams it was almost a relief to be awake.

He hadn’t thought of much else since New Year’s except Sibyl. He’d gone over the whole nine days, almost hour by hour, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, but with no results. He probably shouldn’t have spent so much time with Emma, but that hadn’t caused Sibyl to say she was ashamed of falling in love with him.

And she couldn’t be jealous of Augusta. Even though she might not know it, Sibyl wasn’t ready for marriage. But during those idyllic four days, Burch had seen signs that she might be beginning to change her mind. Their nights had been a blazing chain of passionate hours when they could not get enough of each other, but during the day many hours had been spent in companionable silence, Burch cleaning his rifles and getting his gear ready, Sibyl attending to the final preparations for the party. It was these hours of utter contentment, as much as their fiery counterparts, that Burch remembered and looked forward to during the two weeks when he was back out on the range for the first time since his accident.

A great aching filled his chest. He loved Sibyl, simply and utterly. What he felt now was new to him, a quiet content, an unquestioned realization that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her by his side. He wanted to see her across the table at breakfast, to know she waited for him at the end of a long drive and that the ranch was in her capable hands when he was away. Yes, he was
proud
of what she could do. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the quiet ease of Augusta or the worshipful love of Aunt Ada. He was a hardheaded, cross-grained cuss, more likely to take his woman for granted than pamper and spoil her. He
wanted
someone who wouldn’t stand for being ignored, someone who could give as good as she got, and Sibyl had already proved she could do that.

But she wasn’t all iron and learner, either. The emptiness of his belly reminded him of the food good enough to cause a man to make foolish promises, the bareness of the cabin of the changes she had wrought at the ranch. But all that was unimportant when put next to the chance she had taken in that race, a race she had entered for herself but won for him. He could still recall the cold emptiness that filled him when he realized what she meant to do. But instead of her broken and mangled body being hauled from the muddy bottom, she had galloped up to him, radiantly happy, and laid the laurels of her success at his feet.

And how had he treated her sacrifice? He had spent all his time with his friends, laughing, drinking, showing off, never stopping to realize that she had worked nonstop to insure that
his
party would be a success. He probably deserved her to be angry at him, but all he wanted now was a chance to show her that he loved her more than he ever thought he could love anyone.

Vaguely aware of an uncomfortable ball of covers pressed against his side, Burch shifted position.

The memory of their four days and nights together flooded over him and he became rigid with desire. The smell of her hair, the feel of her skin, the exquisite torture of her body caused the blood to race through his veins and made him squirm uncomfortably. “I’ve got to stop or it’ll drive me crazy,” he said out loud. But the hunger would not give him any ease, and he twisted miserably in the bed.

Suddenly he froze, a deathly cold fear sweeping over him in an instant of horrifying realization. The uncomfortable ball was no longer bothering him. It was gradually being reduced in size.
It was moving!
Even through the thick protective cover of his sheepskin coat, he could feel the undulating, twisting, slithering movement. There was a snake in his bed! In one sweeping movement Burch threw off the covers and leapt from the bed. There, in the warm depression of the mattress, was a rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike. Burch snatched his rifle from against the wall and without regard for the mattress, blasted the venomous creature into bits. He heaved a sigh of relief, letting the awful tension drain from his body. Only then did he become aware of something dangling, writhing, pulling at the thick coat that covered his powerful arms. He looked down into the cold, reptilian eyes of a second snake; its fangs were buried deep in the leather of his coat, and it dangled from his sleeve, unable to free itself. In one swift movement Burch pulled out his knife and severed the snake’s head from its body. He collected the remains of the two reptiles and flung them out into the snow. Next he carefully searched the cabin until he was satisfied there were no more snakes, then he sat down on the bed, too weak to stand without shaking.

He had missed death by a hair-breadth. If he hadn’t been too tired to undress the night before, he would now have the venom of at least one snake inside his body. He took off his coat and turned it inside out. Adhering to the thick fur lining where the snake’s fangs had penetrated the leather were two drops of liquid. Those two little drops, so small and so clear, represented life and death—
his
life and how close he had come to losing it.

There was no longer a mystery about the cattle or the
accidents
that had happened to him during the past year. He didn’t know who or why, but somebody was systematically trying to kill him. Burch cursed himself for being so careless. He had probably passed the than on the way to Boulder Canyon. The than
knew
he would find the cattle, so he had put the two snakes in his cabin, certain that at least one of them would be drawn to the warmth of Burch’s body.

Now that his game was exposed, his unknown assailant was going to be more dangerous than ever. But what
was
his game? It couldn’t be Jesse because he had nothing to gain, and it couldn’t be Ute or Loomis because they were too crazy to do anything systematically. Burch gave up his unprofitable questioning. Whoever was after him was not crazy. They had taken great pains to make his death look like an accident and would probably try again.

But right now Sibyl was the most important thing in the world to him, and as soon as he knew the herd was safe, he was going back to her. After that, he and Jesse would decide what to do about these attempts. Odd, though. If Jesse was on the trail of the than—and his going to Boulder Canyon seemed to indicate that he was—why hadn’t he come to Burch with what he’d found? Burch realized that he had let his mind be taken up by so many other dungs recently that he and Jesse had barely talked for months. That was just one more thing he’d have to do after he saw Sibyl. In the meantime, he had better keep his eyes open. After so many failures, his assailant might be desperate enough to make an open attempt on his life.

Chapter 27

Burch rode swiftly toward the Three Bars and Augusta. He had reached the
Elkhorn the night before, almost lightheaded with excitement, only to be greeted by Emma melodramatically flinging herself into his arms.

“Where is Sibyl?” he had asked, rudely setting her aside.

“Your precious cousin has gone home to Virginia,” Emma answered spitefully, furious over her unequivocal rejection. The little
lady
couldn’t take it out here.”

“Of all the lying cats!” exclaimed Balaam. “Miss Sibyl nearly worked herself to the bone keeping her cows from freezing into solid blocks. I didn’t notice you offering to heat water or tend the stove.”

“It’s too bad
you
didn’t freeze into a solid block,” Emma shouted, turning on him furiously.

“To hell with your cows
and
your solid blocks!” exploded Burch. “Why did she leave?”

“She didn’t say nothing to nobody,” Balaam said. “Just packed up her things the minute you rode off. Left a letter for me to deliver to her aunt first chance I got.”

“Where is it?”

“I done took it.”

“Did she leave one for me?”

“Nope” Balaam said with so much callous unconcern Rachel could have brained him. “Said you’d know. Said it a couple of times, in fact.”

“Balaam, I want you to take Miss Stratton home,” Burch said with brisk decision. “She can’t continue to stay here without a proper chaperon.”

“We could fix it so it wouldn’t matter” Emma hinted, certain that success was almost within her grasp.

“Touched in the head, that’s what she is,” Balaam whispered loudly to Rachel, “if she thinks Mr. Burch is gonna settle for side meat when he can have tenderloin.” Burch pretended he hadn’t heard, but Emma’s eyes flashed furiously at the acid-tongued old man.

“I don’t know what’s happened to Auggie, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here with no one to protect you.”

“Where are you going?” Emma demanded imperatively.

“I’m going to Virginia to bring Sibyl back.”

“You mean you’re going to
marry
her?” Emma asked, unable to believe it.

“Just as soon as I can.”

“Yippee!” shouted Balaam, brandishing his delight in Emma’s face.

Lasso was not at home when Burch arrived. “He’s taken the girls with him to see what damage has been done to the herd,” Augusta explained, looking up from some needlework.

“It’s you I wanted to see.”

Augusta bit her thread off and folded up her work. “It’s about Sibyl, isn’t it? You want to know why she left?” Her blue-gray eyes stared at him with soft sadness.

“Didn’t you expect I would?”

“I didn’t know,” she said quietly. “At first I thought you liked her, but lately I decided I must have been wrong.”

“Like her!” he parroted, stunned. “I love her.”

“Does she know that?”

“Of course she does.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Over and over again.”

“Most men don’t, and we women often go on wondering.”

“She had no reason to doubt it,” Burch added, thinking of the indescribable pleasure he enjoyed in her arms.

“But she did have doubts” Augusta said. “I saw her becoming more withdrawn, but I was too involved with my own happiness, too blinded by love, to help her when she needed me most.” Great tears welled up in her eyes. “When Balaam brought me that letter I almost went after her myself.”

“Do you still have the letter?”

Augusta nodded. “I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t see it. She talks as though I knew exactly what she was feeling, what was going on in her mind, but I
didn’t
know and I’ve felt so guilty.” She blew her nose and rose to get the letter from a small desk in the corner of the cozy parlor. “She didn’t say much. It was almost as though she felt she couldn’t confide in me any longer.”

Burch almost snatched the letter from Augusta’s hand in his haste to read it.

Dear Aunt Augusta,

I am going home, I should have known from the first that coming out here was a mistake, but I never have been able to admit it when I was wrong. I wanted this one last chance so desperately I was willing to try anything. I was too ready to reach out for what I wanted, ready to believe it was what it seemed, but I was just fooling myself. There is no place for me at the Elkhorn and there never can be.

Do you remember asking me what I would do when Burch got married? Well, he probably will soon, and I couldn’t stand it. It’s ironic that you were the one to find your happiness. Please believe that all my love stays with you. I hope you’ll bring Lasso and the girls to visit me someday.

If Burch should ask about me, tell him he will be hearing from Mr. Clarence soon.

I’ll love you always,
Sibyl

 

“But she still doesn’t say anything!” Burch protested. “Do
you
know why she left?”

“No, but I can guess,” Augusta said deliberately. “I was not so entirely blinded by my own happiness that I didn’t notice you spent a lot of time with Emma Stratton. If Sibyl believed that you are on the verge of marrying Emma, she would never stay in Wyoming.”

“Good God! The idea never occurred to me. Emma’s like my sister.”

“It’s occurred to Emma.”

“Maybe” Burch said impatiently, “but it’s still the custom for a than to ask a woman to marry him before his friends start planning the wedding. Why didn’t Sibyl ask me if she wanted to know?”

“Ask you if you intended to marry another woman?” Augusta repeated incredulously. “She would never have dreamed of doing such a thing.”

“Why not? Emma would have straight off.”

Augusta thought it best to keep her thoughts about Emma Stratton to herself. “I don’t know much about girls in general,” Augusta began, “but I’ve known Sibyl since she was born, and she has too much pride to let you see that she loves you if she has any doubts about your loving her.”