"You're leaving me right here? Where they last saw us?" She prayed he would say no, that he'd give her some reason to hope.

"Not in the open. I'll hide you deep in the brush and wipe away our footprints as I back my way out." He smiled slightly. "All the tracks will lead north, Boston. They'll never think in a million years that I'd leave you here alone."

Because it was such a despicable thing to do. Even lowlife comancheros had conscience enough to know that. But she was resigned. Deke Sheridan outweighed her by a good hundred pounds, nearly every ounce solid muscle. She couldn't enter into a physical contest with him for one of the horses and hope to win. If he had his mind set on going, he would go, and nothing she said or did would stop him. She supposed, if she were faced with the same circumstances, she'd skedaddle, too. The odds were stacked against him. Why should he risk getting shot for a woman and baby who meant nothing to him?

Determined to make one more try at appealing to his sense of honor, if he even had one, which was in doubt, Laura struggled to keep her lips from trembling and said, "If you leave me here, I'll die. One way or another. And my baby as well. You do realize that? My life is one thing. But what of my child's? Can you truly toss it away as if it means nothing?"

The question tore at Deke, and when he looked into Laura's eyes, the pain he saw there nearly changed his mind about leaving her. He wished he could get his hands around Tristan Cheney's neck and squeeze the life out of the miserable bastard. Laura's reaction to his plans told Deke far more than she probably realized, namely that being left alone to dig a well three days out of childbed had been the least of her trials.

"Honey, when they do come back, they'll ride straight by. I promise you that." He glanced at the opening of the draw. "I'll scout around before I hightail it to make sure they're not out there someplace watchin'. That's the only way they could ever know you was here. Trust me on that."

She stared up at him with that same stricken look on her face. Deke wished he knew some way to reassure her. As long as he could still put one foot in front of the other, he would come back for her, or die trying. Hell, he'd crawl back if he had to. But the wounded expression in her amber eyes told him that nothing he said would ever convince her of that. Sometimes a man's actions had to do his talking for him.

He wouldn't let himself think about her baby. That non-stop run of good luck he had prayed for last night hadn't come about, and from the way things looked, it might be all he could do just to keep Laura safe.

As quickly as he could, Deke prepared to ride. When all was ready, he gathered the supplies and blankets he had set aside for Laura and led her deep into the brush. When he found a cluster of boulders that would protect her on three sides, he spread one of the blankets out for her to sit on, then removed his gun from its holster. He had another six-shooter in his bags if he needed it, and he would rest easier knowing Laura had some means of defending herself. Slowly, so he felt certain she could follow his instructions, he showed her how to load the gun and cock it, then theorized on proper trigger pulling and aim.

"Don't shoot unless something's right on top of you," he cautioned as he slipped the weapon back into its holster. "The sound of a shot out here will carry and draw them down on you like flies to honey. You understand?"

Her gaze averted, she nodded listlessly. Deke could only wonder what had happened in her life to make her trust so little. She looked so small and fragile, so hopeless. He cast a frustrated glance around, trying to imagine how she must feel, unpracticed with a weapon, unable to find her way out of here, and soon to be without a horse.

Still, there was no help for it. Leaving her here, where she would be safe, was the best plan. There was no way Deke could hope to outrun those Mexicans, and contrary to what he had told Laura, he couldn't lead them off the scent for any period of time. With any tracking skills at all, they would figure out his game eventually and realize he intended to double back.

He had one chance. That was to leave a clear trail and then wait to ambush the bastards. It would be dangerous business. Too dangerous to allow Laura to be anywhere nearby. She would be far safer here. Deke thought about leveling with her, but quickly discarded the notion. It would be bad enough to let her fret the entire time he was gone, afraid he might not choose to return. Telling her he could end up dead, with no choice in the matter, might send her into a real panic.

"I'll leave old Chief here to keep you company. That oughta convince you I'm comin' back. Who'd leave a worthless, no-account mongrel like him behind?"

She didn't respond to the teasing question.

He strapped his gun belt around her slender hips, using the tip of his knife blade to punch a new buckle hole so he could draw in the hand of leather to fit. The entire time he worked, she just stood there, her face resolute, her eyes slightly unfocused, her arms limp at her sides.

"Boston, I swear I'll be back if I gotta crawl every inch of the way. Won't you try to believe that? Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

No reaction. Just that empty, hollow look. As he straightened, Deke sheathed his knife and took her face between his hands, hoping to say with his eyes what he couldn't seem to get across with words. She accepted the touch passively, not betraying by so much as a twitch that she was even aware of the contact.

With a discouraged sigh, he swept off his hat and removed the hatband of cobalt trade beads. The loosened feather drifted slowly to the ground as he put his hat back on and fastened the circlet of beads around Laura's slender neck. Lifting stray tendrils of her hair free, he said, "Don't take it off. Promise me that?"

She still refused to look up at him.

"Them beads is known all through this country by the Indians," he explained. "My Cheyenne mother strung 'em for me when I killed my first" Deke glanced around the tiny clearing, then scraped a hand across his mouth. "Anyhow, I've always wore 'em since. If any Indians come around while I'm gone, they'll recognize the beads and leave you be."

He curled a finger under her chin and forced a smile. "Hey, Boston?" No response. Deke ran his thumb across her mouth. "Hell's bells, I never thought I'd see the time when you quit talkin'. The least you could do is give me a proper send-off with some of that fancy name-callin' of yours."

She still didn't look up. Deke took a reluctant step back, knowing he had to go, but hating to leave her when she felt like this.

"I don't want you doin' nothin' but restin' the whole day," he told her. "Maybe stayin' quiet will stop the" He broke off, not wanting to throw fuel on the fire by bringing up something ladies shouldn't discuss. "We got a baby to go find when I get back, remember, and the more you rest now, the more we can ride later."

Nothing. Deke had never seen anyone look so dejected. He swallowed and scuffed the heel of his moccasin in the dirt. Damn it! What had Tristan Cheney done to her?

"I'll be back," he assured her, once again striving for a teasing tone he could only hope didn't sound as forced as it felt. "I got a hundred and seventy dollars to take out in trade, remember? Only a fool'd turn his back on that sweet bargain."

At that, he saw something flicker in her eyes. A sick sensation settled in his guts. Like a goddamned burr in a dog's tail, his reputation hung on, and he couldn't seem to shake it.

Stepping back to her, he captured her small face between his hands. Digging his fingers in at the hinges of her jaws, he forced her teeth apart so he could plunder the sweet, moist recesses of her mouth.

At the first contact of their lips, Deke felt a shock that bolted into his guts, shot down his legs, and felt as though it blew out the bottoms of his feet. Sweet Jesus. She even tasted like whiskey, honeyed and mellow, yet searing hot. As he took a long pull at her mouth, he nearly forgot what he was about. But tenderly seducing her wasn't his aim.

He forced his tongue deep into her mouth and did what he did best, which was act like a first-class bastard. Only this time, it didn't come easy, and he felt no satisfaction, no sense of giving back as good as he got. She tried to arch away and brought up her small hands to shove against his chest. But instead of turning her loose, as he longed to do, he used his strength to hold her fast and took what she didn't want to give.

Startled and clearly frightened, she whimpered into his mouth, her breath warm and incredibly sweet. Deke savored the flavor of her, pretty damned sure he'd never get another taste as he slid a hand up her ribs to cup her breast. At the last instant, though, he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Not after her frantic attempts to stop him last night. He settled for claiming relatively harmless territory on her side, dangerously close to tempting softness. She jerked as though he had finished the deedjerked and then sobbed. That sob nearly undid him.

He hated himself. Her struggles to escape him became more frenzied, but he held her a little longerlong enough to make sure she wouldn't forget what a no-good bastard he was.

Finally loosening his arms, he said, "I'll be back, Boston. Maybe you'd like to forget our bargain, but there ain't no way I am. Not till I get my money's worth out of you."

Still struggling to be free, she staggered when he released her. As she regained her balance, she shot him a glare of pure loathing and wiped the taste of him from her swollen mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. Though he had to reach deep, he managed a cocky grin.

The expression on her face was the only reward Deke figured he was ever likely to get for this bit of business. Dread, revulsion, fear of him. At least she no longer looked worried about his abandoning her. Now she was anticipating his inevitable return and looking none too happy at the prospect.

Chapter 10.

*Fourteen hours later, weary though he was, Deke rode fairly tall in the saddle. Not even the fact that he'd had to leave Laura alone in the dark for far longer than he had hoped could dampen his spirits. With Chief to look after her, he felt sure she was still all right. Mad, maybe, and probably scared to death. But that mood wouldn't stick with her long.

Deke felt like whooping and singing. Not only had he managed to dispense with the three Mexicans without getting his ass shot off, but on the way back here, he had finally spotted some Indian sign. Cheyennes were camped at Cougar Flats, less than a day's ride away, and they were Deke's own band, people he knew and loved, and who loved him.

What all of that boiled down to was that Laura's baby was probably alive and well. The comancheros could have made it as far as Cougar Flats in two days, maybe in as little as one and a half. With careful handling, Jonathan could have survived that long. And seeing as how the Indians happened to be some he knew, Deke's chances of bargaining with them for the return of Laura's son were far better than with strangers.

His prayer for a run of good luck had been answered. The Great Ones had taken their own damned time in getting around to it, but who was complaining? He couldn't wait to get back to Laura and tell her the news. She'd be happy as a bug. Hey, she might even forgive him for how he had told her good-bye this morning. Even if she didn't, she was bound to come around when he put that baby back in her arms.

That thought made Deke's smile of satisfaction vanish. His resolve not to become emotionally vulnerable was growing more elusive by the moment, and unless he wanted to sit in for another round of heartache, he had better get a handle on things. Before he knew it, he'd be delivering her safely back to Denver, and he'd probably never see her again if she had her way.

The feelings he was starting to have for her were dangerous. He was who he was, and there was no changing it. Determined to put such foolishness from his mind, Deke guided the horses carefully through the thick brush. He had enough troubles without borrowing any. The comancheros might be doubling back from Cougar Flats already, and they'd be sure to have their eyes peeled for their three companeros, no doubt hoping the men would have Laura in their possession. When the bastards realized that Deke had killed their friends and then disappeared with the woman they wanted so badly, they'd be as thick in these hills as fleas on a dog's back. Since Deke had no intention of getting his hide shot full of holes, or of letting the comancheros get their hands on Laura, he couldn't waste any time in transporting her to the flats where his people were camped. Not even comancheros would dare to nettle the Cheyenne.

As Deke drew near the spot where he had left Laura, his smile returned. For a fancy bit of city fluff, the girl had smarts. She hadn't built a fire. Given her fear of long-toothed critters, he was surprised. Not that he had ever doubted she had mettle, just not much sturdiness to go with it.

Pulling up near the rocks, Deke swung from the saddle. "Hey, Boston!" he called softly. "It's Deke. Don't go aeratin' my hide for me."

No answer. One hand still on his stallion's shoulder, Deke paused to listen. Chief appeared from out of the darkness and whined a greeting.

"Hey, Okema."

Deke bent to pat him, then made his way around the boulders. He saw Laura huddled on the blanket.

"Laura?" He knelt beside her. Relief washed through him when she stirred. "Hey, there, girl. You had me scared for a minute."

She pulled herself partway up and peered at him through the moonlit gloom. "Mr. Sheridan?"

Deke smiled. "If it was anyone else, you was s'posed to shoot him."

She rubbed her jacket sleeve over her eyes. "You came back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" For a woman who had been so terrified of being left alone, she sure didn't act overjoyed to see him. He remembered the manner in which he had said good-bye. Looking back, he was none too sure that had been one of his wiser moves. Now he'd be faced with the chore of convincing her he wasn't as bad as he had pretended to be. He drew away slightly and braced his arm on an upraised knee.

"And the Mexicans?" she asked groggily. "Did you lose them?"

"Yep, and I've got great news. Cheyennes are camped less than a day's ride from here. I'd bet my savings your baby's with them. And they're Cheyennes that I know personal. Somebody up there's smilin' on us."

He thought he saw tears sparkle in her eyes. "Thank God." After a long moment, she pushed more erect. "Less than a day away, you say? And you think Jonathan is with them?"

Deke wanted so badly to wipe the worry from her mind that he was a little more adamant in his reply than he might have been otherwise. "No think to it, honey. He's with them, or I'll eat my hat. And they'll treat him real fine till we get there. I promise you that."

He shifted his weight onto the other knee so she had plenty of space to sit up. Removing the cobalt beads from around her neck, he put them back on his hat, then searched the ground for his feather and stuck it into the band at a jaunty angle. Next, he transferred his gun belt from her hips back to his own. As he bent to tie the holster thongs, she gave a shaky sigh that brought his head up. "You feelin' okay?"

"I'm fine."

Deke had heard her sing that tune before. Though he couldn't put his finger on it, something about her seemed off the mark. The odd note in her voice, he decided. "You startin' to wake up?"

"I wasn't asleep."

"Then why didn't you answer when I called you?"

"You called? I'm sorry. I guess I didn't hear you." She seemed to be searching for him in the shadows. "When will we leave?"

"Are you sure you're feelin' up to it?" he asked, knowing damned well she wasn't, and that she'd lie rather than admit it.

"Of course."

Reluctantly he said, "We can go whenever you're ready, I guess." As quickly as he could, Deke explained his concerns about the comancheros doubling back. "The way I got it figured, they probably reached my people sometime today, which means they'll more than likely hit their backtrail tonight or come mornin'. Are you sure you're feelin' up to more ridin'?"

"Have I a choice?"

She had a point. "We won't push it hard," he promised.

With a nod, she replied, "I can go for another day, Mr. Sheridan. It's a simple matter of staying in the saddle, after all."

Deke wished there were other options, but there weren't. He rose before she did and reached to steady her as she struggled to her feet. Together, they gathered up the supplies he had left behind for her. Getting ready to ride was quick business with the horses all ready to go, and within minutes, they headed out, Deke in the lead, the pack animals trailing behind him.

It seemed to Deke they had been riding less than an hour when Laura called softly to him. "Mr. Sheridan, I fear I must stop for a rest."

At the sound of her voice, his guts went tight. His Boston, asking to rest? He could scarcely believe his ears.

"I simply haven't the strength to press onward, I fear. Perhaps a short break will revive me."

Dropping the pack animal rope, he wheeled his horse and rode back to her. At his approach, she said, "I'm so sorry."

Sorry wouldn't plug bullet holes, but Deke refrained from saying so.

She pressed the inside of her wrist against her forehead. "I think I have a fever. And I'm feeling unaccountably dizzy."

Her words made his pulse skitter. "Honey, are you still"

"No," she interrupted, clearly uncomfortable with his asking. "Resting all day helped with that."

It was small comfort to Deke. She didn't look any too good. A fever? Shit. He touched a hand to her cheek.

Her skin was icy from the chill head wind that blew down off the snowcapped mountains. Still, he had been around her long enough to know she wouldn't claim to be sick unless she truly was. He stifled a frustrated sigh. With comancheros riding drag, what the hell was he going to do?

She pushed at a curly tendril of hair that had fallen over her eyes. When it immediately fell back to block her vision, she set her slender fingers to work. The braid that encircled her crown had slipped from its moorings and hung to one side, the thickly roped strands unraveling. She struggled to set it right, then sighed and let her arms drop heavily to her sides, clearly too weak to finish the task.

Deke's heart went out to her. He knew how frantic she was to reach her baby. To be defeated by her own frailty must be bitter medicine to swallow. "Well, I guess there's no help for it. We can't travel with you like this."

"No. I'm sorry."

"No point in feelin' sorry, honey. It ain't your fault if you're ailin'."

"I'm sure I'll perk up if I can just rest for a bit."

Somehow Deke doubted that, but again he refrained from saying so. It wasn't as if he hadn't known what he was biting off when he had agreed to take this job. His most immediate concern was what to do. Come dawn, nearly twenty men would be searching for them, if they weren't out there already. Even with the surrounding underbrush as a blind, he didn't dare build a fire here, and if she was truly taking sick, he'd need one to doctor her.

Somewhere to hide her... On the way here, he had seen an abandoned mine that tunneled its way into the side of a hill, He hadn't gone close, but with a little luck, maybe the diggings would serve.

"Can you push it for a few more minutes?" he asked. "I got a spot in mind where we might lay over."

"Certainly," she said in a stronger voice.

Deke took heart. Maybe she was right and a few minutes would restore her. Knowing her, she hadn't eaten while he was gone. He'd fix her up some bacon, with hot biscuits and gravy, and pour several cups of hot coffee down her. That'd shore her up if anything would.

Preparing to resume their ride, she leaned forward to catch the reins and, in the process, nearly pitched headfirst to the ground. Deke shot out a hand to steady her, and then, without consciously making the decision, found himself moving her from her gelding to his stallion.

As he settled her in front of him, she insisted, "I can ride the remainder of the way by myself, Mr. Sheridan. Our combined weights will be too hard on the horse."

"You let me worry about the horse," he told her gruffly as he slipped an arm around her waist. "Lean back against me, honey. Rest if you want. I won't let you fall."

As he nudged his black into a walk, he heard her give a low moan. He bent to see her face. "Boston? What is it?"

She was biting her lip and took a moment to answer. "I'm just a bit sore, that's all. A few minutes to rest, that's all I need."