Van Hauessen's hollowed cheeks turned an alarming shade of red. He took a moment to smooth his silver hair before saying, "I beg your pardon?"

"Bread in her oven," Deke repeated, and tossed down his second whiskey. He glanced toward Becker. "I hope that don't throw a hitch in your fancy get-along, Sheldon, old man. It was just an Injun weddin', a simple enough thing to pretend didn't happen, but if she's carryin' my child, things might get a little sticky. Don't you think?"

Becker, who had just taken a sip of whiskey, strangled as he tried to swallow. Liquid trickled from his nostrils, tears began to stream from his eyes, and he fished frantically for a neatly pressed linen handkerchief to dab his face. Mildly fascinated, Deke watched the man blow his nose with dainty little huffs, one flared nostril at a time. Van Hauessen sat so erect on his chair, he looked as if someone might have shoved a corncob up his ass.

"Dear God," he finally managed to say. "You and my daughter? My Laura? I want to see her. Immediately."

"Nope."

"What do you mean, no?" Van Hauessen braced an arm on the table and leaned forward. "Now, see here, Mr. Sheridan! Correct me if I'm wrong, but an Indian marriage does not give you legal rights, conjugal or otherwise."

"What kinda rights?"

"Conjugal!" The man blinked furiously. "Marital, if you prefer. If you have laid a hand on my daughter, I'll see you hang."

Deke completely forgot his vow to keep his temper. "Where the hell was you when Tristan Cheney was layin' his hands on her, you miserable sack of shit? Where was you when she wired you for help from Independence? And a few weeks later, from I can't remember where? Why wasn't you oozin' concern then?" It was Deke's turn to lean forward, and when he did so, he swept the whiskey bottle and glasses out of his way. "All it took was you learnin' Cheney was dead. That makes Laura worth somethin' again, don't it? And here you come with your highest bidder ridin' drag, his tongue hangin' clear to the goddamned floor just at the thought of gettin' his slimy hands on her."

"I don't have to take these insults!" Becker said huffily.

"You sure as hell don't. Consider it an engraved invite to leave."

"How dare you!" Van Hauessen sputtered.

"How dare I what? Call the cards the way I see 'em? Seems to me like you're the one steppin' over the line, Van Hauessen. What kinda man sells his daughter? And don't tell me that ain't what you got in mind." He shot another meaningful look at Becker.

"The very insinuation that I would sell my daughter for any amount of money is absolutely outlandish. I'm a wealthy man in my own right. I have no need of Becker's money, I assure you."

"No, but you'd sure as hell'd like a piece of his shipping business, wouldn't you? What'd Laura call it? A merger? Between Van Hauessen Exports and Becker Fleets? A nice little deal between the two of you with Laura in the middle, your daughter, his wife, and hopefully the mama of a few Van Hauessen and Becker brats to keep the ties strong?"

"That is a despicable accusation."

"But the truth. I got it straight from your daughter." Remembering all the feelings and emotions Laura had divulged to him during her illness, Deke hooked a thumb toward Becker. "Look at him, for Christ's sake. Can you blame her for jumpin' at the chance to marry Cheney? Mr. Becker is as old as you are. What kinda husband would he make for a girl Laura's age?"

"A better choice than she's capable of making on her own, obviously," Van Hauessen retorted icily. "First Tristan Cheney, and now you? Laura is clearly incapable of judging character."

"I've had enough of this." With a disdainful snort, Becker hauled himself up, using the table to raise his considerable bulk. "Sterling, I'm off to find Laura. Money talks. This time that miserable little clerk will tell us what room she's in, or I shall know the reason why."

"Don't count on it," Deke inserted. "I told that clerk I didn't want nobody gettin' that room number. He knows if he gives it out, I'll tack his hide to the wall and use it for target practice."

Becker huffed. "Your audacity is absolutely astounding."

Deke wasn't sure what audacity meant. "Buy tickets. You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Becker tugged on his vest, which had rolled up over his stomach. "I'm off to find her, Sterling."

Deke sat back in his chair and grinned. "On second thought," he said just loudly enough for Van Hauessen's ears, "I hope the clerk gives him that room number. I got a dog standin' guard in our room that could save Laura a lot of grief. He's got a real bad habit of gettin' a man by the crotch and not turnin' loose till I tell him to."

Van Hauessen regarded Deke with undisguised distaste. "You know, Mr. Sheridan, I have a feeling that you are doing your level best to shock me."

Still wearing the grin, Deke replied, "Shockin' folks, that's what I do best." He kicked his chair back on its hind legs and plopped a moccasin on the table's edge. "You wanna know how I figure it, Mr. Van Hauessen? You ain't gonna like me, no matter what I do, so I might as well go for grass."

Laura's father tugged on his shirt cuffs, positioning them a precise inch below the edge of his jacket sleeves. Then he folded his arms and rested them on the table. He gazed into the depths of his glass, then smiled slightly. A smile that was as calculated and precise as his adjustment of his shirt sleeves.

"You may be wrong about that. I think I do like you, though I can't imagine why."

Deke had played too much poker to fall for that. "I don't give a shit if you like me, Mr. Van Hauessen. That ain't my aim, and it ain't my game."

"What is your game? To come out of this with my daughter as your wife? Surely you must realize that Laura could never be happy here. She was raised in affluent social circles with every advantage. What could you possibly offer her? And what of my grandson? What sort of education would he receive here? Laura wouldn't countenance her son wearing moccasins and a dirty Stetson with a bedraggled feather stuck in the hatband." He glanced at the hatband in question. "What is it made of, by the way? Cobalt trade beads of some sort? Very quaint."

Deke nudged his hat with the side of his foot. "Yep. That hatband's one of a kind, all right. My Cheyenne mother strung them beads for me years ago when I killed my first white man. I was thirteen, if I remember correct."

"Am I supposed to feel intimidated, Sheridan?"

"Nope. You asked, I told you."

"Shall we stick to the subject of my daughter?"

"You changed the subject, I didn't."

"We were discussing your aim. If it is your hope to somehow lay claim to my daughter, surely you realize how absurd an idea that is. Laura would be miserably unhappy here."

Deke drew his foot from the table and rocked forward in his chair, bringing the front legs to the floor with a sharp report. "She was miserable in Boston, too."

"There were compensations."

"So you don't deny it?"

"My daughter is a headstrong young woman. Controlling her and keeping her happy didn't always go hand in hand."

Deke flashed another smile. "Well, now, I reckon that's my aim, to see to it you work real hard at keepin' her happy. If I let her go back with you, that is."

"Let her?"

"That's right. She won't go unless I talk her into it. Trust me on that."

Van Hauessen smirked. "So why would you convince her to leave?"

"Because I'm afraid you're right, and she'll be miserable here if she stays. I'd rather she was away from me and happy."

"I see."

"No, you don't see," Deke said softly, "and that's the cryin' shame of it all. But the way I see it, that don't matter. With a few rules laid down for you, I think you can give Laura the kind of life she deserves, and I aim to see you do just that."

"Rules?"

"Yep. My terms, Mr. Van Hauessen, which you'll accept if you want your daughter and grandson to live with you in Boston. My picture of things ain't exactly what you had in mind, no mergers with Becker Fleets and all thatunless Laura decides that's what she wants. But you'll have the boy to carry on for you in the family business. That's somethin', at least."

"Your arrogance knows no bounds."

"When a man can shoot like I can, he don't gotta have bounds, Mr. Van Hauessen, just guts. I know you're thinkin' that I'd be tossed in jail if I went to Boston wavin' a gun around, and you're probably right."

"It's good to know you realize that."

"Yep, I realize lots of things. Like, for instance, I realize I ain't gonna get thrown in jail until I'm seen, and I'm real handy at keepin' my head low, even in places like Boston. With my Henry and my naked eye, I can pick an acorn off a tree with one shot at two hundred yards. A man makes a lot bigger target. If Laura was to write me that her daddy was makin' her real unhappy, I don't reckon I'd travel all the way to Boston just to shoot at acorns. Do you?"

Van Hauessen's face flushed. Then the color faded. "Are you threatening me?"

"I sure as hell am. You still think you like me?" Deke asked in a low voice.

"Less and less, by the moment."

"Then I think we're startin' to understand each other, ain't we?"

"What are your terms, Mr. Sheridan?"

Deke poured himself another serving of whiskey and began to list them.

Laura heard Deke whispering her name long before she reached wakefulness, and she moved through the blackness toward him, becoming aware of him, measure by measure. His hand on her hair, his hip pressed against her side, the hardness of his arm braced on the mattress at her back. Something awful hovered at the edges of her mind, but in her drowsiness, she was able to shove it away and not face it now. Deke. He was all she wanted or needed to think about. She opened her eyes and blinked to bring his dark features into focus. His mahogany hair fell forward, forming a curtain around their faces. She looked into those incredibly light blue eyes of his and smiled slightly.

He grinned back and lifted a steaming mug of coffee from the bedside table. "A cup of wake-up, fresh from the restaurant down the street."

Laura glanced bewilderedly around and spied Jonathan where Deke had moved him onto the bed beside her. She pushed up on an elbow, feeling oddly disoriented, her limbs leaden. Deke fluffed a pillow and put it at her back. When she was sitting comfortably, he cupped her hands around the warm mug.

"Take a sip," he said. "We gotta talk, darlin', and I want you awake."

Laura blinked again and took a careful mouthful of the hot brew. The shot of caffeine and his serious tone brought her more awake, and she remembered the day's events with a jolt. So much ugliness to be faced. She wasn't sure she could deal with it yet and sincerely hoped that wasn't what he wished to discuss. "Talk? About what?"

He smoothed a stray curl from her cheek. "About us."

Laura's gaze shot to his. "Us?" The sad expression in his eyes made her heart catch. "What do you mean, about us?"

"Don't go gettin' upset. I just been doin' a lot of thinkin'." He looked deeply into her eyes. "How much do you love me, Laura?"

"What kind of question is that? With all my heart, of course."

He nudged the brim of his hat back and flashed her a slow smile. "Enough that nothin' could make you stop?"

"Nothing," she assured him, and as she said those words, she knew them to be absolutely true. One of the things she had come to love the most about Deke was his ability to sense how she felt. Tonight, however, his intuitiveness unnerved her. Sometimes one needed time to circle feelings before trying to deal with them. "And you? How much do you love me?"

"More than I can say." He traced the bridge of her nose. Then he took a deep breath and sighed. "Things has happened real quick for us, ain't they, Boston? We started out from here just a hair over five weeks ago, me hatin' you, you hatin' me, and now here we are, married."

Laura had a bad feeling about this conversation, a very bad feeling. But she was so groggy, it was difficult for her to concentrate on it and decipher exactly why. "Yes, things happened rather quickly. But we were thrust into extraordinary circumstances."

"A month ago, all you wanted was to hightail it home for Boston and never clap eyes on Colorado again. Remember that?"

"Of course."

"What changed your mind?"

"Loving you," she replied, perhaps a little too quickly. Don't do this, Deke, she wanted to cry. Not yet. Let me put some distance between myself and this morning first. Please? But she could see he had no intention of allowing her to do that. "Loving you. That's what changed my mind."

"Ah, but Colorado's just the same. What happened this mornin' proved that. It's hard country, Laura. You lovin' me don't change that. It don't make men like Gonzales not exist." He let his gaze slide around the dimly lit room. Then he studied the lantern for a long moment. "I think we both gotta think about what almost happened today. I think we gotta think about it real hard."

Laura shivered. "I'd rather not. Maybe tomorrow. Right now I'd rather pretend it didn't happen."

"We can't pretend that." He measured off a scant distance between thumb and forefinger. "I came just that close to puttin' a bullet in your brain, for God's sake. If Black Stone had showed up one minute later, you would've been dead, and Jonathan, too. Maybe you can pretend that didn't happen, but I can't. I was the one who damned near pulled the trigger."

Laura squeezed her eyes closed. "Oh, Deke, don't. Please don't. Not tonight."

"How do you think it made me feel, knowin' I might get shot and that you'd be left to face them bastards all alone?"

Laura knew how it had made him feel. Desperate. Desperate enough to take her life and Jonathan's rather than let it happen. "Oh, Deke, what is the point? It happened. It's over. Let's try to put it behind us."

"It's part of daily life here, darlin'. We can't put it behind us."

He caught her chin on the edge of his hand. "You got a son to think about, Laura. I gotta think about him, too. This can be a dangerous place. If you and the boy stay here, I gotta know, deep down in my heart, that it's the right thing for both of you."

"It is the right thing!" she cried shrilly.

"Who you tryin' to convince, Laura? Me or yourself?"

Laura couldn't answer that. She cupped a trembling hand over her eyes, unable to speak, not wishing to try, for fear of what she might say. The horror of this morning was still too fresh, the memory of how terrified she had been for Jonathan still too close.

"Laura." He cursed under his breath. "If it was just me and you, maybe I'd see things different. But it ain't. We got Jonathan to think about. If you and him stay here, I gotta know it's what you truly think is best. That you've thought it through real careful and made your decision with your head and not your heart."

"Deke, there are risks everywhere."

"Yeah, but every day in this country can be a gamble. I never realized just how big a gamble until today. Always before, it was only me, and close brushes never scared me as bad. I could think, 'Well, it just wasn't my time,' and go on from there. It's different when it could've been you or Jonathan. Can you understand that?"

"You protected us," she whispered fiercely. "With your own body, you protected us. That's all I want to remember."

He drew in a ragged breath. "I've told you a few times that I'd always take care of you, that I'd never light out when you was countin' on me. I realize now that I was makin' a promise I can't keep. A man don't decide when he's gonna die."

"Don't," she cried.

"Don't what? Make you look at the truth?"

"Deke, I love you."

"I know you do. But how you and me feel ain't all that's important here. Almost from the first, I finagled to have you." His eyes crinkled at the corners in a sad smile. "Remember me tellin' you how sometimes a man forelegs himself a filly, and the fall can break her neck? I throwed you some loops there at the start, and if somethin' should happen to you or Jonathan because I did, I" He broke off and shook his head. "I couldn't live with the guilt, Laura. I'd never forgive myself."

Laura's heart twisted at the look in his eyes. He meant it. He truly meant it. He was thinking about sending them away. "What are you saying?"

"That I need some time to think, and you do, too. I want us both to be damned sure a life here with me is what's best for you and the baby."

"I don't need time to think."