Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (36 page)

“The last time I saw you, you were dressed in an exquisite gown. I’m curious as to what has happened since then.”

“Then be curious,” she said bitingly.

“Why are you here so late?” he prodded.

“Why aren’t you out doing the job you were sent here to do?” she countered. “I think you are only interested in seeing how many women you can charm. You care nothing for the plight of the Negroes, and need I remind you that
is
why you were sent here? You aren’t even trying to stop the Klan. You forget your place, and you forget your duty, and you are a disgrace to the badge you wear.”

“Damn it, Marilee, you’re one hell of a woman,” he growled. “I’ve known only one other woman with that kind of courage. I told myself I’d never…”

He shook his head, muttered, “To hell with it,” and then kissed her, long and hard. He whispered, “Damn you, woman, don’t fight me. You know you want me again, just as I want you, and I’m going to have you.”

She moaned softly. She could not deceive herself. She wanted him. Oh, yes, she wanted him, and soon she was sobbing with wonder as she locked her legs around his back, gently digging her heels into his buttocks to urge him onward…onward…onward.

Repeatedly he thrust into her, and each time she erupted in the greatest of all joys he would gently rock her for a few moments before starting his savage movements once more.

The explosion was coming. He was about to consume her in sweet-hot flames. He took her all the way, rocking her to joyful satisfaction, and even then he did not stop. She felt the flames lick high, higher, burning low once the awesome feeling spread within her. But the flames did not die out. He took her upward again and again, and she peaked the crest again and again.

Later, she would look back and try to remember when he had stopped, but could recall only being in his arms, held close, feeling deeply cherished.

He grinned down at her. “You’re one hell of a woman, Marilee,” he murmured huskily.

She turned her face away, but quickly, almost roughly, he cupped her chin and jerked her about to meet his gaze. “Don’t ever look away from me again. Not after tonight.”

“You gave me something I will always remember, Travis. Now I know what it means to be a woman. I’ll never forget.”

“No. You won’t forget. Because there will be other nights just as wonderful.” He raised up on one elbow, his eyes glowing in the purple darkness. “You’ve got fire and spirit and courage. Perhaps those are the greatest qualities a woman can have.”

“I also made love with the man my sister loves.”

He snorted. “Will you stop being dramatic? It isn’t like you. And we both know Alaina doesn’t love me. She just wants me because she knows she can’t have me. I’ve told her that.”

The words leaped out so quickly there was no time to hold them back, and she hated herself for crying, “And I suppose I can have you? I suppose that’s what you are telling me now!”

He was silent for several moments, and though she fought an inward battle, she could not tear her gaze from his.

Finally he took a deep breath and whispered, “I can give you everything but my heart, Marilee. Never my heart.”

She forced herself to recover. “I’m not asking for your heart or anything else.” She made her voice light, breezy. “What we had was lovely. As I said, I’ll never forget it. But it’s over. Now may I leave you? I do need to be getting home before I’m missed.”

He looked toward the eastern horizon, where the first hint of dawn streaked the sky with waves of pink and coral. She followed his gaze.

“Oh, my God! Is it that late?” She leaped to her feet, found her clothes, and began putting them on. Would Rosa still be waiting? Would she have become frightened and perhaps alerted Father? No, surely not. Rosa was loyal and smarter than that. But Marilee had to hurry.

Travis stood, tucking in his shirt. “I’ll ride you almost to the house. I’ve a horse nearby.”

“No. Someone might hear us. It’s best I just walk. I’ve time to get there before it’s light.”

She started to move away, but he reached and caught her arm.

“You never did tell me what you were doing out here in the middle of the night, dressed like a man,” he said. “I’d like to hear it from you, Marilee.

“I…I like to walk at night,” she stammered, thinking wildly. “I dress in these clothes so as not to draw attention. Who would wonder about a man walking around at odd hours? But a woman, dressed in a ball gown, now that would attract notice.” She laughed but the sound was not right and she knew it.

“Who would be around here to see you?” he persisted, still holding her arm.

Suddenly she was desperate. “People like you, Travis Coltrane, who sneak around at night preying on women. Is this what the government pays you to do?”

His hand fell away and a strange shadow crossed his face. “You said something like that before. I’m doing what I get paid to do. Why don’t you tell me why you’re doing what you
aren’t
paid to do?”

She challenged him with her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And now may I go, or will you grab me again?”

He nodded. “You may go, but you
do
know what I’m talking about.”

She gave her long brown hair a toss, for it had long since fallen wildly around her shoulders. “You’re a strange man, Travis Coltrane. I think I shall forget this night ever happened. I suggest you do the same. Whatever you and my sister are to each other is between the two of you. I regret my weakness. Or should I say, my madness? It won’t happen again.”

His smile was infuriatingly arrogant. “If it doesn’t happen between us, lovely lady, then it will surely happen in your dreams. You enjoyed it far too much to forget it.”

“Well,” she retorted angrily, taking several steps backward,
“You
won’t ever know about it, that much I can be sure of.” She turned and ran away, his laughter ringing in her ears.

Travis watched her disappear. He felt the old, familiar loneliness consuming him once again. For a little while, he had almost held her close to his heart. It was as near as he had come to loving.

Kitty.

He doubled up his fist and sent it slamming into the nearest tree trunk. But feeling the pain didn’t help.

Marilee had almost the same spirit Kitty had possessed, the same unchallenged spirit. What other woman would dare infiltrate the dangerous Ku Klux Klan?

Yes, he knew. He knew a hell of a lot of things. Pieces of the puzzle were slowly beginning to fall into place. It was not a nice picture. He did not like what he was finding, did not like it at all.

But he did not want to think about that just then. He wanted to remember the way she had felt in his arms, the genuine responses. The passion.

Like Kitty.

But she was not Kitty. There would never be another Kitty. There was no point in looking for his fiery redhead, his one true love.

Yet there was something fascinating, something unique about Marilee. She would never possess the ethereal beauty of Kitty, but there was an aura about her that he found irresistible, though he could not quite define it.

She was not at all like her giddy sister. God, he would never forget that first night when she came to his bed right in her own house. He would not want Marilee to know about that escapade.

He also recalled a night less than a week after that first time, when Alaina had come to his office, asked Sam to leave, and, once they were alone, scooped her breasts from the daring bodice of her dress and taunted, “Have you had dessert tonight, Marshal?”

Well, he was, after all, only a man. Hell, he didn’t want to come right out and tell her he could never feel anything for her except physical satisfaction. He sighed.

The usual warning signs had been there, the ones that surface when a woman gets to thinking about something permanent, but he had ignored the signals. Now he wished he had taken notice and put a stop to it. Had he led her on, he asked himself harshly? Had he been that selfish?

With a weary sigh, he began to move to where he had left his horse. Damn, he was tired. And there would be no time to sleep. Too many things were starting to happen.

He froze at the sound of a twig cracking. Instinctively dropping to his knees, he pulled his gun.

“Don’t shoot, Marshal. It’s me, Willis.”

He saw the black man rise cautiously from the scrub brush just beyond the springhouse, and he sighed with relief and called out, “You better learn to yell out quicker than that, or you’re going to find yourself holding a bullet.”

“I didn’t know you could hear me walkin’. I was waitin’ till I got closer.” He stepped into the clearing, panting, his shoulders heaving. “I didn’t know you’d still be here. I went to the house, and Rosa was hidin’ out in the bushes, scairt plumb to death ’cause Miz Marilee ain’t back yet. I knowed you was here when I left her, and I come runnin’ back here to tell you somethin’s happened to her.”

“Nothing has happened to her, Willis,” he said quietly, not missing the wide-eyed look the Negro gave him. “She just left. She’s probably almost to the house by now.”

“All this time?” Willis cried, then, realizing he was treading on business that did not concern him, ducked his head and glanced away.

Travis decided it best to change the subject. “Did you find Munroe? Did you get there in time?”

The head bobbed up and down, and he grinned broadly. “Oh, yassuh, I found him. I helped him get away. We had to do some fancy sneakin’, ’cause the Klan won’t too far behind, but we made it.”

“Good,” Travis smiled, relieved. “It seems Marilee has once again come through for your people.”

“Yassuh, she sho has,” he chimed in, then said cautiously, “You won’t nevah tell her I tol’ you what she was doin’, will you, Marshal? I mean, she’d be very mad.”

“I won’t let her know you told me, Willis. When the time comes, if it does, I’ll make her think I discovered what she was doing on my own. Don’t worry. You were wise to confide in me. She’s been doing something very dangerous. I don’t care if she is a woman, or if her father is rich and powerful. There are some vicious bastards in the Klan, and if they found out a mere woman had penetrated their security, they would deal with her just like she was a man.”

Willis shuddered. “You gonna make her stop?”

“I think it will soon be time. But you let me handle that. Just keep on dealing with her as you have always done until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yassuh. I will, suh. And I’ll let you know what’s goin’ on. I’ll be in touch, just like I have been.”

With a wave, Travis turned and walked away, disappearing behind the springhouse.

No moment can last forever, Marilee had said. But other moments could happen, moments just as wonderful.

He had not lied to her. He could give her everything he possessed except his heart, for he had no heart to give.

His heart was buried in a grave in Nevada.

Chapter Nineteen

Travis was feeling no pain. The straight Bourbon whiskey had settled in his stomach like a large warm blanket. He lifted his head now and then to stare around the saloon. His vision was slightly blurred, but this was the first night off he had allowed himself in weeks, and if he wanted a little booze, then damn it, it was his business.

The image floated through his inner vision, the image of golden-red hair, lavender eyes. Kitty. She was smiling in that special way, the secret way that said
I want you.

And oh, God, how he wanted her. Forever.

He had not realized how tightly he was holding the glass. His fist was squeezing…squeezing. Suddenly the glass shattered and he felt a stinging sensation as whiskey and blood ran down over his hand in rivulets.

Sam left the bar and sat down opposite him. “All right,” he spoke softly. “What happened to start it up again?”

“Start what up again?”

“The drinking.”

“Damn it to blazes, Sam. This is the first time I’ve taken some time off in weeks. Can’t a man have a few drinks in peace without somebody being on his back about it?”

“I’d say something is eating you. Time off or not, I know you. Something’s eating you. What is it? Alaina?”

Travis stiffened. “Just get me another goddamn glass, Sam,” he snapped. “I’d get it myself but I’m bleeding.”

“I know you’re bleeding. And I ain’t getting you no glass. You’ve had enough to drink.” He paused, sighing. “Say, before you bleed to death, satisfy an old man’s curiosity and tell me what’s wrong. Alaina? Or is it Kitty?”

Travis snarled, “You know, Sam, you’re a nosy bastard. Always have been. I don’t know why I’ve stuck by you as long as I have.”

“It’s the other way around,” Sam said with a lazy grin. “Now you’re either going to talk to me, or we’re gonna get that hand fixed. Which will it be? You want to talk or you want to bleed?”

“Neither one.”

Sam shrugged. “Then I’ll sit here and watch you bleed to death over Alaina Barbeau. It surprised me, though. I figured you had control over yourself better than that. Mind, she is a fine-looking piece, real fine. If I was younger, I’d give you a run for your money and go after her myself. But since I ain’t, there’s nothing I can do but watch you make a fool of yourself.”