Logan's ribs were being crushed in the deadly hold of an Indian who stood behind him. Logan slammed his head back, connecting with bone. The man staggered back, his arms flying wide. Logan s.n.a.t.c.hed his hatchet from him and crashed it into the man's skull. One of the other warriors, whose knee was broken, drew his arm back to throw his hatchet, but Logan was quicker. He threw the hatchet he held and struck the man dead center in his chest.

The warrior struggling with Sarah now had her most of the way out from under the wagon. Logan grabbed his shoulders. His fingers slipped, fatigue weakening his grip. The man turned around. Swift Elk. Logan threaded his fingers together and swung his doubled fist at the man who had destroyed Sarah's life. Following him to the ground, Logan grabbed his hair and banged his head against the hard dirt. Over and over.

"Stop. Logan. Stop." A hand touched his arm. He shrugged free of it. Swift Elk wasn't fighting him anymore.

"Leave him. It's over."

Sarah's words echoed in Logan's battle-hazed mind, made all the louder because of the silence surrounding them, when only moments before there had been gunshots, shouting warriors, screaming horses. Still gripping fistfuls of Swift Elk's hair, Logan ceased trying to bash his head in. He glanced around the campground, littered now with bodies. He drew a ragged breath.

"Finish it," Swift Elk ordered, glaring at Logan.

"No. Don't, Logan. These men have wives, children, elders in Swift Elk's village. They need to know what happened here. His people will make him answer for what his actions have wrought. Leave him alive to take their dead home."

"Kill me," the grizzled warrior demanded.

Logan shook his head and pulled back.

"I will come after Yellow Moon."

"No, you won't."

"My people will."

"I am not an enemy of your people."

"You are now." A breath left his chest on a slow hiss. "We both are." His black gaze was steady, almost gleeful now. "Her first husband still lives. I took ten horses in payment for the raid I made last year."

Logan heard Sarah's gasp. Rage, swift and terrible, blackened Logan's mind. This devil was intent on seeking to harm Sarah any way possible. He pressed a knee to Swift Elk's shoulder and took hold of his head, intending to snap his neck. Sarah grabbed his wrist in a flash of movement.

"No. It is not possible. Eugene would never have put the two of us in such danger. He was greedy, yes, but he wasn't bloodthirsty."

Swift Elk looked at her. "He lives still."

"He died in that raid. Our neighbors buried him," Sarah argued.

"Your husband killed my brother in that raid. For that, I scalped him. It was my brother you buried, not your husband."

"He isn't alive!" Sarah grabbed his arm and shook him.

Swift Elk laughed. "How do you think we knew where you were today?"

Sarah released him as if his skin burned her. She clasped her hands to her ears, blocking out the sound of his terrible laughter. Logan cursed, silencing him with a hard punch to his temple. Sarah stared at him blankly, her features frozen in a look of horror.

He pulled a hand away from her ear, knowing he had to intercept the shock that was rapidly claiming her. "Saddle my horse, then bring the wagon team over. Do it now."

He took a length of rope from a coil hanging on the side of the wagon and tied Swift Elk's hands to his feet, behind his back. There were enough weapons lying scattered around that he knew it wouldn't hold the warrior long once he regained consciousness.

Logan had to get Sarah to safety. He looked around at the battlefield, seeing that none of Swift Elk's men moved. He doubted any survived. It was a terrible waste, a terrible loss for the Sioux people. He feared Swift Elk's prediction that Logan was now an enemy of the Sioux people would in fact prove true.

He climbed into the wagon, making sure no other warriors hid there. The small s.p.a.ce looked like a hurricane had come through it. Drawers were opened and empty. The bench trunks were opened, their contents strewn about. The table was overset, the mattress pushed aside.

Very little was thrown out of the wagona"they weren't raiding the wagon's supplies. The men had been looking for something.

The papers Sarah had given Sheriff Declan. G.o.dd.a.m.n it. Swift Elk was right. Her b.a.s.t.a.r.d husband still lived.

He put away the fold-down table, stowing the broken leg to be fixed later. Sarah brought the horses up in pairs. She secured his pony as he hooked the team to the wagon. They broke camp quickly, heading south. Outside of Defiance, there was a thin trail that led north. He would turn there and make his way up to the Circle Bar. As soon as he had Sarah settled, he would go after Eugene.

Sarah climbed over the wagon bench, intent on retrieving some bandages so that she could at least cover the knife wounds on Logan's arm. She brought back a bowl of water and a cloth and set to work on his injuries.

"Leave it. We'll clean up at the river in a little bit."

"No. You will have a nasty infection starting by then, with all this trail dirt." She washed his arm as best she could, then wound a bandage around it. She would need to st.i.tch it, she was certain. He had bruises all over his chest, jaw, and temple. He looked as if he'd been run over by a wagon. She fetched a shirt for him, insisting he draw it on to cover the rest of his cuts and sc.r.a.pes.

"Where are we headed?" she asked as she settled next to him once more.

"To my father's ranch."

She focused on the land pa.s.sing by, listened to the clatter of the horses' swift trot. "Do you believe him? Do you think Eugene's still alive?" she asked. Logan didn't turn to look at her, didn't immediately answer. She caught the tension that washed over his profile.

"I do."

Tension slashed through her. She wrapped her arms about her middle, chilled suddenly. "You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not."

"If it's true, we're not married."

He did look at her then, a long glance, his eyes implacable. "We are married. You are my wife. There is no turning back."

"But if he livesa""

"Then you will divorce him. And I will find him and turn him over to the law. He will answer for his crimes."

"Logan, you have to let me go. He will kill you, kill everyone you love. Please don't take me to your family. I will only endanger them."

He switched the reins to his other hand and drew her close, pulling her in tight against his body. "Honey, my father and brother and his father-in-law have all learned to deal with the hard edge of life. I have every confidence in their ability to keep youa"and themselvesa"safe. If I don't go after Eugene, he will keep hurting people. The best way to make us all safe is to take care of him, and fast."

She folded her legs and leaned her thigh against his as she snuggled in close to him. "I'm sorry, Logan."

"You are my everything. You've got nothing to apologize for. We're gonna be just fine. You'll see." He pressed his face against the top of her head, drawing her scent into his lungs. "You were brave today."

She nodded against his chest. "I wish the nightmare were over."

"It will be soon."

The sun was high overhead when they drew up by the river. While Logan saw to the horses, she collected a change of clothes for them, some medical supplies, soap, and a couple of towels.

He joined her at the river's edge. He shucked his shirt, then unraveled the bandage from his upper arm, leaving both in a pile at the bank. The warm June sun beat down on them. Gra.s.shoppers snapped and jumped in the surrounding field. The horses, tied to a corral line beneath a row of cottonwoods, were quietly enjoying a bit of shade and the rich gra.s.s that grew there.

For a moment, neither of them moved, neither spoke. Sarah looked up into Logan's face, struggling to understand how she'd had the good fortune to have him come into her life. His gray eyes watched her, giving away nothing of his thoughts.

"I have cost you everything. Because of me, you've become an enemy of the Sioux."

"You have cost me nothing. We were attacked. The Sioux are a fair people. They know Swift Elk was a liabilitya"every bit as much as he was once a worthy warrior in their fight against white settlers. They will mourn the loss of his men, without a doubt. But we did not provoke him. He took payment from Eugene to attack you yet again. He dishonored his people."

"That isn't what he will tell the others."

"They will hear the truth, Sarah, and will judge me accordingly." He looked at her tattered undergarments. "I am more worried about you. You faced the demons you still hold in your thoughts. You fought them."

Sarah cast her eyes down. She stood silently for a long moment. "It won't take away my scars." She met his eyes. "It won't undo what happened. But at least now I know they can't do to another woman what they did to me. That I like."

Logan reached forward and started unb.u.t.toning her camisole. The cloth wasn't even fit to be a rag. He needn't have taken care removing it, except that he didn't want to traumatize her by ripping it off her. When he reached the last b.u.t.ton, he looked at her. "I need to see you. I need to feel your skin. I need to know you are unharmed." She nodded, giving him permission to remove it. The sun on her bare skin felt cleansing. Drawing in a deep breath, she arched her back. Logan untied the drawstring of her drawers and pushed them down her hips.

He stood back and looked at her. Taking her hand, he turned her in a full circle. When she faced him again, he touched the soft side of her neck where bruises were beginning to appear. He drew his hand down, over her collarbone, to the tattoo on her chest. When he pulled away to remove his own drawers, she felt the loss of his touch.

He lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. "There is one devil left. Only one. I will make an end of him, too."

She nodded. He took her into the river. The water closed over their feet, calves, knees. The current was swift, pulling against them, rushing downstream. They knelt close to the riverbank, sinking to their chests in the water. Logan held her waist. "Lean back. Wet your hair."

She did as he asked. The water rushed between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, swirled past her neck, pulled her hair into the current. He drew her upright. Reaching for the soap, which he'd left on a rock nearby, he rubbed the soap into her scalp, checking her for injuries as he did so.

He wanted to linger with her, here in the cold water with the hot wind and the blazing sun, but they were in danger yet. Not from Swift Elk. But if another party of Sioux came across the battlefield and then ran into the two of them, the warriors would not stop to listen to their side of the confrontation.

He made short work washing off the morning's dirt and blood from her. When she took the soap from him and began returning the favor, it was all he could do not to pull her onto his lap. He watched her hands move over his skin. She paused at each bruise, leaning forward to kiss him. Dozens of scratches and cuts were scattered across his torso, back, and arms. She washed his face gently, moving carefully over the gouge on his forehead.

Logan knelt before her. He moved his hands up her legs, over her hips, to hold her ribs as he drew her body against his. "Have mercy on me, woman."

Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into Logan's broad chest, feeling the water lap at their sides. "I will go get the bandages ready."

He kissed her temple, moving his lips against her skin to the corner of her eye. He took the soap from her hand and set her free.

Chapter 14.

Heat radiated in waves off the hard ground, fanned around Sarah and Logan by the hot wind. They were coming down to the Circle Bar from the northeast, riding into the lowering sun. The horses moved slowly, their heads drooping in the blistering temperature. They'd kept up a brisk pace for two days, and now, in the late afternoon of the third day, they were nearly played out.

Logan took off his hat and waved it in response to a distant outrider who was doing the same. Sarah watched his dust trail as he sped off over a ridge. Logan looked at her. "My father's been watching for us."

Their wagon rose up over a ridge of sage and short prairie gra.s.s. When they crested the peak, a wide valley opened before them, verdant fields with rich gra.s.ses. White, yellow, and red wildflowers dotted the land, glistening in the sun. The dark shapes of grazing cattle spread farther than the eye could see. Far to the west, the foothills of the Medicine Bow Mountains rose in waves to distant peaks that still held veins of snow cover.

"Logan! This is your home?"

"Nope. It belongs to my father and brothera"well, stepfather and stepbrother."

"It's beautiful."

"It is."

They turned onto a well-used road that cut through the pastures. The s.p.a.ce was so large, so wide open, that it was difficult to judge how big it was. More than an hour pa.s.sed before they crested another ridge and overlooked the heart of the ranch. A long, low building sat on the far outskirts of the compound. A wide barn stood next to it, amid several corrals. A few other buildings dotted the area.

In the center of the compound was a large, white house. A deep porch wrapped around the front and one side of the house, shading tall windows. Intricate fretwork softened the corners between the porch roof and the tall columns supporting it. A second story boasted several dormer windows. The grounds surrounding the house were green and edged with lush bushes and flower beds.

The Circle Bar was a paradise. This was the heaven her father had sought. This was her parents' dream.

She sat straighter on the bench. Removing Logan's old hat, she checked her braid, tucking a few errant strands of hair back into the weave. She tucked her shirt in. She was about to stuff her hands back into her gloves, when Logan reached over and took hold of her hand. She flashed him a look.

He shook his head. "You've no need to hide with my family."

"Do I look all right, Logan?"

He smiled at her. The shadows in his eyes had deepened over the last two days, increasing her nerves. "You look beautiful. You look like what you are, honey. My everything."

She swallowed hard. Settling her hat back on her head, she faced forward, ready for what would come.

Logan drew up in front of the house. He wasn't sure what kind of reception to expect. Over the last twelve years, he'd only been home one summer, and that was eight years ago. He helped Sarah down from the bench, and turned to see his brother and stepfather waiting for him on the wide front porch.

Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't the wall of tension that met him as he walked up the porch steps. He drew Sarah slightly behind him. Stepping into the shade of the porch, he dropped his hat off the back of his head. He moved forward enough to let Sarah up the last step. But there he waited.

Sid Taggert, his stepfather, gave him a sad smile, volumes in his eyes left unspoken. His brother, Sager, shook his head and muttered a curse. Logan knew what they were seeing. A savage gash in his forehead, scabbed over, the flesh around it swollen and discolored. The purple, fist-sized bruise on his chin. A tear by the side of his lip that he kept from reopening only by not opening his mouth very far. His neck ringed by a dark bruise.

His dad came forward first. He made a tentative movement with his hands as if to indicate he'd welcome a hug. Sid had rarely been demonstrative in Logan's youth. Logan had always been conscious that he wasn't the real son. He was a poor subst.i.tute for Sager, and everyone knew it. Sid hugged him. Logan held still. It was far too little, far too late.

When Sid pulled back, Sager was there. He clasped his shoulder and gave another shake of his head.

"You must be Logan's wife. I'm Sid. Welcome to the Circle Bar." Sid held out his hand to Sarah. Logan couldn't help stepping nearer to her, curving an arm around her shoulders.

Sager shook hands with her after Sid. He noticed the marks on her hand and looked into her eyes. Like that, it seemed, he knew everything there was to know about her. She felt tears well up, blurring her vision.

"What the h.e.l.l happened to you, little brother?"

"We crossed paths with Swift Elk and his band."

"And you lived?"

"We lived. They didn't fare so well." He looked from his brother to his father, bracing himself for their reaction to the request he was about to make. "I need help."

Sid nodded, his lips compressed into a thin line. "I know you do. Your problem got here ahead of you."

A movement behind them by the front door should have caught his attention, but Logan was too focused on what Sid had just said.

"Sarah, darling! At last, I've found you!"

Sarah cried out. Logan caught her up against himself, worried she'd step back and fall down the stairs.