Dorothy Garlock (44 page)

*  *  *

Logan carried Odell out to Sylvia’s open buggy and laid her down on the covered straw that had been brought from the livery. Rosalee adjusted a pillow under her sister’s bandaged head.

“Sylvia will take real good care of you, honey. Logan and I will come for you as soon as we get a place ready. We’re going to rebuild our house and stay in it until Logan can build on his land. His men are going to bring their families out as soon as we can build a place for them to live. We’ll have our own little town out there and there’ll be children for you to play with. We’ll even start our own school. What do you think of that?”

“Did my dress get ruined?”

“Sylvia says she can soak out the stain. You sure looked pretty in that dress.”

“I didn’t thank you for the dress, Mr. Horn—”

“If you keep on calling me Mr. Horn, I’m going to have to start calling you Miss Spurlock. I’d rather call you Odell.”

Odell smiled weakly. “I forget about you and Rosalee bein’ married.”

“I’ll keep reminding you,” he said with a full, rare smile.

Cooper helped his mother into the buggy after she’d hugged both Rosalee and Logan. “Don’t worry about Odell. We get along just fine together, don’t we, punkin’?” She smiled and wrinkled her nose at Odell.

“I can’t thank you enough—”

“We don’t want your thanks.” Cooper handed his mother the reins. “We’re family now. That makes Odell almost ours. By the way, Logan, I’m going to kiss your bride.” He glanced at him with a crooked-mouthed grin. His arm went around Rosalee and he kissed her firmly on the lips. When he lifted his head he was smiling broadly. “Doggee, brother! You did all right for yourself.”

Logan reached out and drew Rosalee into the circle of his arm. “Damnit, Cooper! You’re taking this brother thing too far!”

Cooper whooped with laughter.

“Come on, Cooper,” Sylvia called laughingly. “Stop your horsing around. We’ve got to get this child home and in bed.”

“Head on out, Ma. I’ll be right behind you.” He held his hand out to Logan. “Let me know if I can be of any help to you.”

“We’ll be out to pick up some horses.”

The two men clasped hands, nodded, and smiled. Cooper mounted his horse and rode after the buggy.

Rosalee and Logan stood in the street and watched him ride away, then turned to each other.

“I’m still dazed,” Rosalee said. “If I could have chosen any man in the world to be your brother, he would have been Cooper.”

“Yes,” Logan said very quietly. Then, “I killed a man today with my bare hands.”

“Yes,” Rosalee said very quietly, as he had.

“I lost control when I saw Odell fall. I thought of your father’s death and I heard you cry out—”

“He would have killed Case.”

“I never thought of Case after the shot was fired,” Logan admitted. “Rage at what had been done to us tore through me. I
wanted
to kill him. I can’t promise that I won’t kill . . . Clayhill.”

“I know.” Rosalee put her fingers to his lips. “Do you remember what your mother said? She said, ‘Show the
Wasicun
you are the better man and he will die a thousand times.’ He died a little today for all his big bluff when he rode out of town.”

“Rosalee, Rosalee—”

“God was really looking out for us today, Logan. I was so relieved I thought I would faint when your men rode in with Frank, although at first I didn’t know who they were.”

“Case sent Frank out a few days ago to guide them in. Those men mean a lot to me. We’ve been through tough times together. Our affection and loyalty runs deep.”

“I could see that.” She smiled. “Are you going to ride with them to take the cattle out to your range?”

“You mean
our
range, sweetheart. I thought you and I would take Ben and ride out to your place tomorrow and see what has to be done to the house. We need to fix it up so we can live in it. We’ll make that our headquarters for awhile. The men should be there with the cattle tomorrow or the next day.”

“So much has happened,” Rosalee said. “Did you ever think we’d be able to stand here in the middle of the street in Junction City and not be afraid someone would see us?”

“Some good people stood by us today. More than I thought possible when we got here this morning. I must admit I thought it almost hopeless, although I knew McCloud would do what he could. I was surprised at Mary’s spunk. You’re a fighter, too, sweetheart. But it’s going to be a long pull. They may tolerate us, but that’s all.” His hand went to the back of her head and caressed the thick braid that hung down her back.

“I’ll be satisfied with that.” She smiled at him with adoration in her eyes.

They walked, hand in hand, to where Mary, Minnie, and Case stood beside the buggy.

Mary called to her, “Are you riding back with us, Rosalee? Josh has gone to look for the sorrel Logan came in on and Ben went to the store with Mr. McCloud.”

“I’d like to talk to Bessie first and thank her for what she did. She’ll be out of a job, now.”

“She’s acomin’ with us. That mean old bastard throwed her plumb out ’n told the bartender to toss her stuff outta the window. She’s gettin’ it now.” Minnie tilted her chin and posed saucily with her hand on her hip. “I like ’er ’cause she’s gutsy. Maybe me ’n her could start us up a business now that Mary’s shuttin’ down.”

“I think I know where I can find you a silent partner.” Mary looked up at Case with a twinkle in her eye.

“Ya mean it?” Minnie fairly danced with excitement. “Bessie could do what you do. She said she warn’t no whore.”

Case groaned. “Mary Malone, yo’re goin’ ta be the death a me, ’n that’s a fact!”

“Look at it this ’a way, Mr. Malone,” Minnie said brightly. “There ain’t agoin’ to be no draggy times ’round yore house.”

Logan, standing apart, searched the faces of the men on the street. He found the one he was looking for and went toward the group lounging beside the watering trough. He stopped in front of the man with the slash down the side of his face. His dark eyes looked directly into the man’s eyes.

“I’m obliged to you for speaking up for me today.” He waited, half expecting stony-eyed hostility to greet his words, but he was compelled to say them.

“No more ’n no less than I’d a done for anybody.” The man held out his hand. “Name’s Lige Freeman.”

“Logan Horn.” Logan grasped his hand.

“This here’s my partner, Tom Spink. We rode in a few days ago from Kansas ’n stopped to wet down our whistles.”

“Howdy.” Logan shook the other man’s hand. “Looking for work?”

“Can’t eat grass,” he said, and grinned.

“Talk to Malone. He’s that tall man over there by the buggy. He can tell you what we’re planning on; and if it suits you, we’d be glad to have you.”

“We’re obliged.”

Logan walked back toward Rosalee. He felt good about his talk with the men. It was a beginning.

*  *  *

It wasn’t until they were in bed at Mary’s that Logan had a chance to tell Rosalee about his meeting with Della at the livery and how he had promised to meet her at midnight.

“She was angry and jealous because you didn’t come to her room. I could scratch her eyes out!”

Logan laughed softly, wrapped his arms tightly around her warm, naked body, and hugged her tightly. “Would you do that?”

“You can bet your life on it! Any woman who sets her sights on my man will think she’s got a bobcat by the tail!”

“Rosalee, Rosalee,” he said her name twice as he sometimes did when his emotions made his throat tight and his voice husky. He kissed her ear, kissed it again and again, loving kisses, dipping into his never-ending love for her. “There’s something I want to tell you. I’ve thought about it a lot and I want to share it with you. My spirits were at the lowest ebb of my life the night I came to your door. My mother was dying and I couldn’t find a place to get her in out of the rain. Then I saw the light, so faint it was a mere pinprick in the darkness.” He paused and buried his face in her neck, then continued in a husky whisper. “The night wind was at my back, and it seemed to be pushing me toward that light. It was as if I were going through a dark tunnel, and if I could only reach the light I would find peace. Does this make any sense to you?”

“Darling . . .” Rosalee stroked his head. “I had wakened out of a sound sleep. I heard the wind rippling the tin on the roof and the drip of water on the floor. I lit the lamp so I could see to put a bucket under the drip. I was wide awake, and now that I think about it, I was waiting.”

“I hurried toward the light, but when I reached it, I was afraid I’d be turned away.” His mouth was open against the rise of her breast and she felt wet lashes against her skin. “Oh, my sweet Rosalee. I waited too long to go look for her.” There was anguish in his voice. “I put duty to my country and my uncle before her.”

Rosalee cradled his head in her arms and put her kisses along his brow. “You were just a little boy when you left her.”

“But she was my mother and she had no one—”

“She had you,” Rosalee whispered, her lips against his brow, the smell of him in her nostrils, the brush of his hair on her face. “She had you in her heart, just as you’re in mine.”

Her kissing lips went along his forehead, along the heavy brush of dark lashes, and she pulled his face into her breasts, pressed it to them and felt his lips take up the kissing. His arms clamped her to him, hurting her, and he lifted his mouth to hers, covered it, his body quivering. His hands on her were huge and seeking, his mouth open, exploring, caressing, and hers answered it.

He was covering her, there was the quick, sharp entry, and she wanted him, all of him, body, lips, mind, and she was trying to get into him. There was bigness and hardness that moved her in rhythm, the singing of his breath and her breath, a blending of music that accompanied his moans and her moans. They entered the far distant world together, the world of blinding light, and rose to its peak on a brilliant crescendo.

They fell apart and panted. She lay beside him and gasped. Mere seconds passed before he gathered her tenderly and naked into his arms, as if he were not whole without her there. He held her to his strong, relaxed body and stroked her breasts with his palm until they gradually quietened. He smoothed the sun-streaked hair from her face and traced her eyebrows with his fingertips.

The restless wind blew down the mountains and into the open window. He stroked her breasts again, gently, kissed her mouth, kissed her breast, reverently kissed her belly where his child could already be springing to life. There was the motion and the music again.

A long time later, he turned on his back and pressed her head to his chest. They relaxed contentedly against each other with the sense of a hunger fed, and with the sureness that there would be another time like this. In between these precious times would be a sweet, deep companionship. They would work and share the joy and the grief. They were twined in love, in flesh, in heart and soul.

“Rosalee—”

“Hmmm,” she murmured into his ear, kissing and murmuring and kissing all at the same time.

“I just like to say your name.” He swallowed several times before he whispered, “Rosalee . . . Rosalee . . . oh, my sweet woman.”

Dear Reader,

I thank you for buying my book and hope it has given you a few hours of enjoyment, allowing you to forget the problems of everyday living while becoming involved in the lives of a pioneer hero and heroine.

I am grateful for the reception my stories of the frontier have received from you, the final critic. Please write and let me know the locale and time period in our American history you most like to read about. I would be pleased to know which characters of mine you find the most interesting.

You can write to me: Dorothy Garlock,
^c
/o
Warner Books, Inc., 666 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10103. Your letters will be forwarded to me immediately. I will answer each letter as quickly as possible and add your name to my mailing list so that you will receive a newsletter telling about my new releases.

The second book in the Rocky Mountain Trilogy,
Wayward Wind,
Cooper Parnell’s story, will be released in the fall of 1986.

Dorothy Garlock

Clear Lake, Iowa