Texas Hero.

By: ruth langan.

Prologue

Q^s^y^Q Texas, 1863.

Drink this. Mama. " The girl held the broth to her mother's lips and watched in frustration as, after only three sips, the cup was pushed weakly aside. " You have to drink it if you're ever going to get stronger. Mama.

" The woman's eyelids fluttered, then closed, as if even that small movement were too great an effort. For long minutes she lay, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. The Newborn baby lying in the wooden cradle began a pitiful bleating. The woman's eyes opened and focused on the girl beside the bed. "You're like him, you know." "Pa?" The frail head nodded once. "You're tough, Jessie. Like Jack. And that one..." She nodded toward the baby, whose wailing had grown louder. "He's going to be the toughest of all."

"How do you know. Mama?" "Listen to him." She closed her eyes a moment, too weak to go on. When the feeling pa.s.sed, she opened her eyes and continued as though there had been no interruption. "He'll be a handful for you, Jessie. It's going to be hard raising a baby brother all alone." "Hush now. Mama. Don't talk like that." The girl's brow furrowed. Whenever her mother started talking about death, Jessie felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. "You'll be here to help." "I wish I could, Jessie. But it's never been like this before. I just know that something's gone all wrong." "Danny's reading the doctor book. Mama. He'll find something that'll help you get your strength back." Across the room, seven-year-old Danny squinted at the pages of the book in the nickering light of the fire. A few minutes later he closed the book and crossed the room. He exchanged a quick look with his sister before giving a sad shake of his head. Squeezing his mother's hand, he felt the thin, shallow pulse. "Pa will be back soon. Mama," the girl said. "He'll get you strong again." The woman's voice was barely more than a whisper. "I know you believe that your pa can do anything, Jessie. But there are some things even Big Jack Con way can't do." "Stop it. Mama." In her grief the girl's tone became angry. "You've got to stop talking about death and start fighting back." "That's what you'd do, isn't it, Jessie? No matter what, you'd fight back." She closed her eyes, and the two children could see the blue veins through the fine pale skin. Olivia Barton Con way had endured her husband's dreams of conquering this wild frontier and had allowed herself to be led far from everything she knew and loved.

Her family farm; her brothers and sisters, who had settled in the rolling gentle countryside around Maryland; even her church, which had brought her such comfort through the years. The harsh weather, the inhospitable land and the loneliness here in the little sod shack fifty miles from her nearest neighbor had taken their toll. Her delicate health had become more fragile during the long and difficult third pregnancy. In the three weeks since the birth of her second son, she had not once left her bed. "You're a sc.r.a.pper, you are, Jessie," she said, slurring the words. "And so's the baby. He should have died. Everything about his birth was wrong, and still he fought for life." She gave a weak smile. "Thaddeus Francis Con way. The first of the Con ways to be born in Texas. He carries my father's name, and my grandfather's. See that he does them proud. " Her eyes closed again and her son and daughter knelt beside the bed, their hands pressed to hers as though willing her their strength. "Don't go. Mama," the little boy whispered. His older sister said nothing. But when their mother's eyes suddenly opened and stared, unseeing, at the infant in the cradle, Jessie felt a cold shiver along her spine. Picking up the squalling baby, she held him close to her heart and watched as her mother took a final breath, then went very still. "Come on, Danny," she said. "You know how it always soothed Mama to hear you read. Sit here by the fire and read, and let Mama rest awhile." The boy hunkered down beside the fireplace and began to read aloud. As she had since the baby's birth, his sister filled a glove with cow's milk and placed one of the fingers in the infant's mouth. The crying stopped abruptly as the baby sucked greedily.

She looked over at the still form in the bed and thought how right it was that Mama should finally get the rest she deserved. Her life had never been easy. Loving a man like Big Jack Con way probably hadn't been the smartest thing Mama had ever done. But, as she was fond of saying, at least she'd always known that she was loved. Tears threatened, but Jessie blinked them away. At almost eleven, she was too old to cry. Besides, hadn't Mama j said she was just like Pa? Too tough to cry. Or maybe just I too ornery. And now that all the work had fallen to Jessie,

there wasn't time to grieve. At least that was something Mama would have understood. As if comprehending the solemnity of the occasion, the baby burped contentedly and drifted back to sleep. Jessie placed him in the cradle and recalled what her mother had said. "I'm going to see that you grow big enough and strong enough so that this land will never do to you what it did to Mama," she whispered. "You'll see, Thad. You're going to be the toughest Con way of all."

Chapter One

q^tq^^q Mexico, 1885 Thad Con way heard the creak of the outer door of the jail. Out of habit his hand went to his hip, where a gun usually rested. This time he had no weapon with which to defend himself. In the darkness he heard the unmistakable click of a pistol being c.o.c.ked. It was a sound like no other. A sound he knew well. He braced himself for what was to come. A glance at the slit in the upper wall revealed the glint of stars in a darkened sky. Midnight, he figured. Not a time for proper callers. Even in a Mexican jail. Rusty hinges protested as the inner door was swung wide. The light cast by a lantern momentarily blinded him before he made out two figures. The man holding the lantern was also holding a gun. The other man inserted a key into the lock and opened the cell door. "You will forgive the delay, Senor Con way," said the raspy voice, heavily accented in Spanish. "It took our rider two days to reach Don Esteban's land and two days to return with the news we sought."

Thad spoke not a word as he waited. In the awkward silence that followed, the jailer cleared his throat and continued. "Don Esteban confirmed that the mare in your possession was not stolen. It is as you said-- you purchased the mare from him. " Thad's only reaction was a slight narrowing of his eyes. As if feeling the heat of his anger, the man took a step back. "I hope you will understand our mistake. A man like you..." The jailer's voice trailed off for a moment before he shrugged and added, "We have all heard of your reputation with a gun. It was a natural conclusion to a.s.sume that The Texan had stolen Don Esteban's prize mare." Quelled by the look Thad had levelled on him, he turned to the man behind him, who handed over the pistol and a leather holster. "Your weapon, senor." Without a word Thad strapped on the holster and slipped the gun into place. When he was finished he picked up his hat from the bunk beside him. For the first time he broke his self-imposed silence. "My horses?" The words were not so much a question as a challenge. The jailer stared at the floor, afraid to meet his cold expression. "They are outside." Thad strode past him, past the man with the lantern and out into the cool night air. With infinite patience he examined the mare, a.s.suring himself that she had been well taken care of in his absence. Then he turned to examine the stallion before checking his saddlebags. Tightening the cinch, he pulled himself into the saddle and caught up the reins of the mare. Without a backward glance at the jail that had confined him for the last four days, he headed for the border. Behind him, the two men gave a sigh of relief that the fate of the infamous man known as The Texan was now out of their hands. Texas "Better brace yourself, ma'am. The road's about to get pretty rough."

The stage driver's voice strained to be heard above the din of creaking harness and thundering hooves. Caroline Adams gripped the edge of the seat and swallowed back her fear. A rough road was nothing new to her. From the moment of her birth, nothing had been smooth or easy. But this was a far cry from the teeming streets of the city where she'd been born. There, at least, she'd taught herself the skills necessary to survive. But here in this untamed frontier, everything was new. And frightening. Struggling for composure, she reminded herself of the lesson for the day from her book of instructions. A lady must endure all of life's discomforts with grace and charm; that was precisely how she would endure the jostling of the stage. Grace and charm. She choked down the muttered oath that escaped her lips as the wheels flew over ruts and rocks in the road and dust swirled into her nose and mouth, causing her to gag. She was grateful that the other pa.s.sengers had disembarked at an earlier destination. At least now she was alone, with no one to see her if she made a mistake. She lifted her spectacles and rubbed the tender spot on the bridge of her nose. She wasn't yet accustomed to wearing the things. Even though the round wire frames were fitted with plain gla.s.s, the spectacles restricted her vision. But the inconvenience was a small price to pay if she was able to enhance her prim, bookish appearance. She glanced down at the plain, mud brown gown and matching jacket she'd chosen. As instructed, the seamstress had made the garments a size larger than necessary so that they wouldn't cling to any part of Caroline's anatomy. In her valise was another gown in drab gray, with simple white collar and cuffs; it, too, was intentionally ill-fitting. The high-top boots she wore were plain and serviceable. Though her ma.s.s of thick black hair could never be tamed, it had been brushed into a neat knot at the hack of her head. The few tendrils that worked free of the pins were covered by an ugly, uninspired brown hat. Though she hated the frumpish gown and hat, she wore them with pride; they were her ticket to respectability. Despite the wild swaying of the stage, Caroline picked up the book she'd been reading and turned to a new chapter. By the time she reached Hope, Texas, she intended to know by heart every word of Dr. Harvey Hattinger's Rules for Headmistresses. She would be the best teacher the town of Hope had ever seen. Over the rumble of wheels she heard another sound. Gunshots. Unmistakably gunshots. The stage lurched wildly, tossing her to the floor. By the time she'd managed to pull herself upright and peer out the window, she saw four hors.e.m.e.n riding toward the stage, their guns aimed at the driver. When she glanced out the other window she saw a body hurtle past her line of vision and realized that the armed guard who rode along on the stage had been shot. Shot. And she carried no weapon with which to defend herself. Her heart thundered inside her chest. She counted three more gunmen riding toward them on the opposite side, all aiming their rifles at the driver. Seven men in all--against a single driver. "Pull up," one of them shouted, "or you'll join your partner in the dust!"

In response, there was a muttered curse and the sound of a gun's report. Caroline was tossed around like a rag doll as the stage suddenly shifted direction and hurtled out of control. Thad Con way ran a hand over his beard, then lifted his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He had just spent the last six weeks in the saddle, all the way to Mexico and back for Don Esteban's finest mare, who trotted smartly on a lead rope behind his stallion. He was hot, tired and out of sorts, especially after those four nights in jail. What he needed was a bath and supper. And a bottle of whiskey at Lilah's to wash away the dust of the trail. He looked up sharply at the sound of gunshots. With a sigh he moved out at a fast pace. So much for the pleasant ending he'd been planning. Caroline clawed at the edge of the seat, trying to pull herself upright. At that moment the wheel of the coach hit a half-submerged boulder, causing the vehicle to become airborne. For long seconds, she was certain they were tipping over. But at the last moment the stage remained upright and continued on, pulled by the frantic team. Dragging herself to the open window, she managed to peer out. What she saw caused her heart to stop. There was no driver. The crazed team raced across the flat stretch of ground at breakneck speed. Caroline had no idea what lay ahead. She knew only that she had to attempt to leap from the stage or risk being carried to her death. A sudden anger flared inside her. She had come so far, endured so much; she would not see it all s.n.a.t.c.hed from her now, when a new life was within her reach. With the stage rocking and swaying wildly, she struggled to wrap her fingers around the handle of the door. Each time she got close, the horses would shift direction, throwing her to the floor. And each time she dragged her way back until, with a last desperate attempt, she managed to grasp the handle. Twisting it, the door flew open and Caroline was propelled through the air. She sailed across p.r.i.c.kly cacti and the sharp edges of rock, landing with a terrible thud against hard-packed earth. She lay, unable to move, struggling for breath, j The thunder of hoofbeats seemed to surround her, and she heard a man's voice. ; "Look at this, Luke!" the voice hooted. "It's female." The gunmen studied her with the hunger of a pack of wolves, then looked up suddenly as a lone man on horseback charged down the hill, guns blazing. In some distant part of her mind, Caroline found herself wondering how a single rider could stand a chance against seven armed men. The man called Luke swore savagely. "It's The Texan." At his words, there was a collective gasp from the others. Their frightened reaction caused a shiver along Caroline's spine. Who must this stranger be, if even armed gunmen trembled in fear of him? She watched in amazement as two men fell and the others scattered for cover. But still the rider charged ahead, returning their gunfire without flinching. As the stranger managed to bring down two more gunmen, Caroline saw blood spurt from his shoulder. His gun dropped to the ground and his arm fell uselessly to his side. In that instant, three men surrounded him and dragged him off his horse. When one of the gunmen lifted his pistol to the stranger's temple, Luke growled, "No. I want him awake to watch. Tie him up. Then, when we're finished with the woman, we can all have the pleasure of killing him."

Hearing that, Caroline struggled to get to her feet. She had no doubt of what these villains intended to do to her. She had to escape. But the leap from the moving stage had taken its toll. Her body would not respond to her commands. Her attempts to sit up were stiff and awkward. She looked up to see the stranger's eyes narrowed in fury. And then her view of him was blocked as the three gunmen formed a circle around her. One of the three, with a cruel, twisted grin, had tucked the guard's pistol into the waistband of his pants. He was already wearing the stage driver's boots. "You the only pa.s.senger?" Luke demanded. Caroline watched them without responding. Her mind worked feverishly. She had to escape these madmen. But how? "I'll bet she's been knocked senseless." The other gunman took a step closer. With the toe of his boot he boldly lifted her skirt and kicked at her ankle. "Can you talk, woman?" Caroline watched with a feeling of revulsion as he leered down at her. "Fox, check her hands for rings," Luke ordered. The gunman grabbed her hands and, seeing nothing, turned them palms up to make certain she wasn't hiding anything. "She's not wearing any rings, Luke." "See if she's wearing a locket or some other jewelry." "With pleasure." Laughing, the gunman caught the front of her dress in his hands and ripped it open, revealing a delicately embroidered chemise beneath. Caroline gasped, then fought back the cry that rose to her throat. Though the gunman could see that she wore no chain around her neck, he was obviously enjoying the task given 1 him. "I'd better check this out more carefully, Luke. I'm! going to have to strip her." j The other two gunmen joined in his laughter as he bentj closer. Without warning he let out a shriek of pain as she I raked her fingernails across his cheek. ; "Looks like you got a wildcat by the tail," Luke taunted.

Touching a hand to his face. Fox stared at the blood a

moment, then slapped her so hard her head snapped to one

side. .

Biting her lip against the pain, she made not a sound.

"You little witch," he cried. "Now you're going to pay format." "Go ahead. Fox. It's the least she should do for you, in fact, for all of us, if she isn't going to have anything else of value. After all, we don't rob stages for the fun of it. " " Maybe you don't. But this ought to prove to be more fun than I've had in years. " While the other two laughed, the gunman dug his fingers into her hair and yanked her head back until the pain brought tears to her eyes. "You know," he said, tossing her hat aside and pulling the spectacles from her face, "if it weren't for those ugly clothes and the fact that you don't know how to treat a man, you might not be half-bad." He started to press his lips to hers but she twisted away and gave him a vicious kick with the heel of her boot as she scrambled free. The two men hooted with laughter as Fox groaned and doubled up with pain. But when she got to her feet and started running, the laughter died on their lips. Luke fired into the air and she spun around to face him. With the bodice of her gown gaping open and her hair spilling around her face and shoulders in wild tangles, she no longer resembled the prim female they'd seen lying on the ground only minutes ago. "This woman has spirit," Luke said, eyeing her with new appreciation. He took several steps toward her, an evil smile splitting his lips. "I think she's going to be more rewarding than the gold we got paid for this." "You'll have to kill me first." Caroline's words were spoken through gritted teeth. "So, the woman has a voice after all." Luke threw back his head and gave a cruel laugh. "Honey, that's what they all say. But they don't mean it. n.o.body ever wants to die. " He was too busy talking to see the fire in her eyes. But The Texan had seen it. And he could hear the ice in her tone as she warned, "Then you don't know me very well. I'll die before I'll submit." With that she turned and began to run. Though her movements were hampered by the clumsy skirt and petticoat, she was surprisingly swift. Luke soon overtook her. Flinging her roughly over his shoulder, he carried her back to where the others stood laughing and jeering. He tossed her to the ground and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. As she lay there, her breath coming in painful gasps, the three men circled her. "Now," Luke said with a grin, "we're going to introduce you to pleasure, Texas-style." He leaned down and ran the tip of his knife between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, cutting open her chemise. Seeing the way she cringed, he said to the others, "You don't suppose she's never done anything like this before, do you, boys?

A virgin. Now wouldn't that be better'n gold? " The other two laughed in agreement. They were so busy, none of them took any notice of the man who had been working feverishly at his ropes. Now, as the strands began to unravel, he lifted his hands to his teeth and tore at the last of the bindings.

As Luke grabbed a fistful of the woman's hair, he felt! the cold steel of a revolver pressed to his temple and heard a savage voice directly behind him. ; "Unless you let go of her right now, there won't bej enough left of you to pleasure a woman ever again." I In one quick motion Luke dragged Caroline in front of] him, holding her like a shield, and pressed his knife to her throat. I With a nervous laugh he cried, "You wouldn't want toi risk hurting an innocent woman, would you, Texan?" Caroline's eyes widened as the stranger calmly leveled his revolver. She could see, by the steely look in those eyes, that he had every intention of doing just that. She had no time to react as, with calm deliberation, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot echoed through her ears as the man behind her slumped against her, pressing her to the ground. For one terrible moment she didn't know whether or not she'd been hit. She felt the sticky warmth of blood seeping through her gown. Hers? she wondered. Or his? While she recoiled in horror, there were several more blasts of gunfire. By the time she managed to crawl out from beneath the dead gunman, his two partners had disappeared over a ridge. Disgusted at their escape, the stranger bolstered his gun. Rendered speechless, Caroline could do nothing more than stare at the man who, alone and without a single flicker of emotion, had calmly shot down five vicious killers and sent two more retreating. He had to be every bit as vicious as the men he'd shot. And she was now at his mercy. Everything about this stranger bespoke danger. He was tall and rangy, with a gun belt slung low on his hips. Black pants and tall boots were caked with dust. His hair was bleached the color of bronze by the sun, and his skin, beneath several days' growth of golden beard, was tawny. Pale blue eyes narrowed as he took in the gaping bodice, the wild spill of hair. There was a hardness to his features that had her throat going dry. If those gunmen had been afraid of him, she had even more reason to be. His voice, when he spoke, was low and deep, his tone abrupt, as though he resented having to stay with her when he could be chasing the two who got away. "Woman, what's your name?" She swallowed and prayed her voice wouldn't betray her terror. "Caroline Adams." Caroline. His eyes narrowed perceptibly. Caroline was cool, correct, proper, like the woman he had first seen. Right now, the name didn't suit her. Not when she was lying here, half-undressed, with her hair tumbling around her shoulders and her eyes still wide with fear. And her voice. There was a breathless quality to it, unlike anything he'd heard before. He dropped to one knee beside her and she cringed from his touch. "Are you badly hurt?" "Just a few bruises." Seeing the direction of his gaze, she nervously drew the remnants of her bodice together. At the first sight of her, Thad's throat went dry. Though she tried to hide it, he'd already glimpsed the lush body hidden beneath the drab, shapeless clothes. It wasn't often in this hot Texas wilderness that he was privileged to see unblemished skin that had never been touched by the sun. He pulled his gaze upward past a pale, creamy throat to a face so beautiful it made his breath hitch. Thick ma.s.ses of dark hair swirled around her face and shoulders. Little corkscrew curls kissed her cheeks. Her eyes could have been green or gold. In the sunlight they danced with glints of amber. Her nose was small and tilted up as though in disdain. Her mouth was perfectly formed, with a full lower lip ; that for some strange reason made him think about the taste of cool whiskey on a sultry night. If he hadn't seen her with his own eyes, he would have sworn this couldn't be the same female he'd first glimpsed, 1 wearing spectacles and a silly hat on hah- wrapped as tight I as a pig's.

His frown deepened. The transformation from spinster to

seductress electrified him. This woman whose cheeks

flamed beneath his gaze was more tempting than any of the

girls at Lilah's could ever hope to be. s "Where did you come from?" Thad tried to keep his gaze averted, to give the woman time to compose herself and rearrange her clothing. "I was on the stage." Caroline sat up, clutching her bodice, unaware of the fact that her skirt had twisted, displaying a shapely leg. "They shot the driver and guard." "And you were thrown clear?" "I jumped." She could read the surprise in his eyes. "You jumped? From a runaway stage?" "I didn't see that I had any choice." He studied the small, slender figure. There was a strength there that wasn't visible at first glance. "Can you stand?" Again she backed away as he made a move to touch her. Ignoring her protest, he helped her to her feet. Though she winced slightly and he heard her sharp intake of breath, she remained standing and disengaged herself from his grasp. So the lady didn't want his help. Well, he was in no mood to give it. But it looked like they were stuck with each other for the moment. "Where are you headed?"

"A town called Hope." He experienced another shock. Glancing at the darkening sky, he hoped his sudden brisk tone masked his surprise. "You won't be able to make it before this storm rolls in." Taking up the reins, he led his horses beneath an outcropping of rock and began to unsaddle his mount. As she watched, Caroline's eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean you intend to spend the night here?" "May as well. It looks like the best shelter from the storm." "But..." She searched her mind frantically. She couldn't just spend the night here, alone with this dangerous stranger. "What about the stage? And the horses?" She thought about her clothes and her precious store of books. She had spent every last dollar to buy those books. "My trunks were aboard the stage." He shrugged. "You can keep an eye out for the team tomorrow, when we head for town. If we don't find the stage in pieces along the trail, it will mean they made it to town, and your things along with them. " He slipped the saddle from his horse and nearly dropped it as pain shot through him. Caroline saw the way he gingerly touched a hand to his shoulder and felt a sudden wave of shame. This man had just saved her life, and she had completely overlooked the fact that he'd been shot. "Let me help you. You're wounded. " " It's nothing. Just a bullet. " Just a bullet? She studied the crimson stain that smeared his sleeve and chest. "Have you ever been shot before?" "Enough times to know I won't die." "Maybe, but the pain must be terrible. I'll bind it for you." Turning away, she tore a strip from her petticoat and swiveled to face him. "Give me your arm."

Reluctantly he stuck his arm out at a stiff angle and watched as she wrapped the white cloth around his wound. While she bent to her task he studied the top of her head. It barely reached his shoulder. When she rolled back his sleeve and tied the ends of the cloth, her fingers brushed his skin. Soft. Her touch was so soft. He felt his stomach muscles contract and he pulled away more roughly than he'd intended. "That'll do it," he said gruffly. "I'll have Doc dig out the bullet when we get to town." He set about making a fire. When that was done he untied a bedroll from behind his saddle and tossed her a blanket. Using his saddle for a pillow, he lay down and pulled his hat low over his face. "What are you doing?" He glanced up. "Going to sleep." "But what...?" She heard the rumble of thunder and shivered. "Look," he said patiently, "I can see that you don't like the idea of sleeping with a stranger. You can sleep out there if you want. " He pointed to a stand of cacti a hundred yards away, then closed his eyes and pulled his hat lower. "But I'd advise you to take shelter in here with me and the horses. It doesn't rain often in this part of Texas. But I when it does, it pours." , ; Fuming, Caroline wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and watched as he calmly rolled to his side. Within minutes he was sound asleep.

Chapter Two

Q^z^s^Q I he first drops of rain splashed Caroline's face. s.n.a.t.c.hing up a thick club for protection, she scrambled under the outcropping of rock where The Texan slept. She stood uncertainly, staring morosely into the night, and wondered for the hundredth time how far she was from town. If she started walking. Somewhere in the distance a coyote howled and the hair on the back of her neck rose. She changed her mind. Her only hope was to wait out the night. She wouldn't stand a chance alone in this wilderness. She glanced at the sleeping figure. Even at rest he looked dangerous. The rifle lay in the dirt beside his left hand. His right hand rested atop his pistol. He had chosen his shelter carefully. He and the horses were protected from the rain. Even the fire was untouched by the storm. Taking care to choose the farthest corner of the shelter, she sat down with her back against the rock and drew the blanket firmly around her. Her hand, hidden beneath the blanket, gripped the club. She had no intention of relaxing her guard. Though she was weary beyond belief, she would keep watch until morning. The rain came down harder, pelting the dry earth and creating little rivers. Dry gulleys soon filled until they were engorged and spilled over their banks. And still the rain fell. Welcome to Texas, Caroline thought miserably. Shivering, she hunched deeper into the blanket and struggled to keep her eyes open. The patter of the rain on the rock had a hypnotic effect. Soon she was lulled into sleep. Thad knew the exact moment when the woman gave in and sought shelter. With his eyes closed he listened as she crouched in the far corner. He heard the whisper of cloth as she drew the blanket around her and tried to find a comfortable position on the hard ground. He listened to the unsteady sound of her breathing and heard the slight change in rhythm as she drifted into sleep, His arm throbbed. He knew from past experience that the wound was beginning to fester. He'd hoped to ignore the bullet in his flesh until he got to town, but now he decided that, with the pain deepening, he'd better deal with it. Taking a knife from his belt, he thrust it into the hot coals. From his saddlebag he withdrew a bottle of whiskey and took a healthy swallow to steel himself for what was to come. Clenching his teeth, he pulled the knife from the fire and cut away his sleeve and the bit of cloth that Caroline had tied around his arm. Then, without giving himself time to change his mind, he sliced into his flesh and began to probe for the bullet. Pain ripped through him and he caught his breath. It took every ounce of willpower to focus his attention on the task at hand. Through the river of blood that soaked his shirt, through the tissue and muscle that resisted the point of his knife, he probed until at last he felt the sc.r.a.pe of metal. Sweat trickled down his brow, nearly blinding him as he gently withdrew the bullet. His fingers trembled as he poured the whiskey on the open wound. Swearing, he leaned back against the rock and struggled to absorb the pain. Taking a swallow of whiskey, he gritted his teeth and poured another liberal amount on the raw flesh. A sound disturbed Caroline's sleep. As she struggled awake, she heard it again. A catch of breath. A hiss of pain. Someone in distress. As her eyes slowly adjusted, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Blood streamed down the stranger's arm, smearing the front of his shirt. In his hand was a bloodied knife. When she realized what he'd done, she tossed off the blanket and crossed the distance between them. "I thought you were going to wait until you reached a doctor in town." He looked up at her through eyes glazed with pain. "Infection started. The bullet had to come out." "Did you get it?" He nodded and reached for the b.l.o.o.d.y cloth that had been cut away. When she saw what he intended, she s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him and tossed it aside. "You need a clean binding." Lifting her skirts, she tore another strip from her petticoat. As she caught his hand he lifted the bottle and poured more whiskey on the wound. The sudden sharp pain caused him to suck in his breath and let it out on a long, slow curse. His strong fingers curled around hers, nearly crushing them. Before she could cry out he realized what he'd done and released his death grip on her. As Caroline began to wrap his arm with the strip of cloth, he took a long pull on the bottle, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back. She looked down at him and felt a wave of compa.s.sion.

Sweat beaded his brow and upper lip. Pain was evident in the taut lines of his face. What sort of man was this that he could calmly, purposefully inflict that sort of pain upon himself when necessary? She gave an involuntary shiver. Worse, what sort of land was this that it bred such harsh creatures? She had come to Texas seeking escape. Now she wondered if she'd bargained with the devil. "Tell me if this binding is too tight." He nodded. Even Thad's pain couldn't dull the impact when her fingers brushed his flesh. He absorbed the first jolt and lay very still, awash in strange, troubling feelings. At least, for the moment, her touch was able to take his mind off the pain. For that he was grateful. "Why didn't you ask for my help?" Though her question was sharp, her touch was surprisingly gentle. "Out here, if you ask for help, it's a sign of weakness." He watched her from beneath lowered lids. Her head was bent, her hair spilling forward to brush his cheek as she worked. He inhaled the woman scent of her and felt a sudden flicker of excitement. His drawl held the warmth of laughter. "Besides, you were sleeping. I figured if I woke you I'd have to answer to that club you were hiding." So much for the element of surprise. Caroline felt her cheeks grow hot and thought of a few curses herself. Curses that would curl his hair. Then she remembered Dr. Harvey Hattinger's Rules for Headmistresses. Rule number five admonished that a lady never display her temper. She bit back the response that sprang to her lips and forced her tone to remain level. "A woman alone can't be too careful." He hadn't missed the way her eyes had widened in surprise; for a moment he'd read the anger that blazed there. Then, just as quickly, she'd blinked and the look was gone, replaced by a cool, penetrating stare. He would give Caroline Adams one thing--she kept her feelings under careful control. Caroline felt rather than saw the way he watched her as she worked. It disturbed her more than she cared to admit. "You'd better get some sleep now." "Not just yet." As she started to get up his hand curled around her wrist, stopping her. Caroline had never felt such strength. It frightened her. In fact, everything about this stranger frightened her. As she struggled to break free, his grasp tightened. To cover her fear she allowed her anger to surface. "Let go of me." Though her voice was even, he could read the fear in her eyes. "In a minute." His voice lowered. "You intrigue me, Teacher." His thumb moved in lazy circles across her wrist and she knew he could feel the way her pulse raced. "Who the h.e.l.l are you? And what are you doing in the middle of Texas?" "I told you." She swallowed and fought to keep the panic from her tone. "The people of Hope have hired me to be their new teacher." "You don't look like any schoolteacher I ever knew. You look more like" She jerked back, but she was no match for his strength. With no effort he drew her down until her lips were mere inches from his. "You look like a green-eyed angel. Or maybe a devil." His breath was warm against her cheek as he whispered, "I've never seen eyes that shade before." Caroline's fear turned to panic. Her breath caught in her throat as he suddenly pulled her against him, flattening her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest. "And I've never seen skin that pale. I'm going to have to touch your skin. Teacher, to make certain it's real. " He traced a work-roughened finger lightly along her throat and felt her pulse nutter beneath his touch. Caroline struggled to show no emotion. But deep inside she felt a tiny tremor curl along her spine. It was the most purely sensual feeling she'd ever known. His tone deepened. "Looks like I'll have to taste those lips, too, and see if they're as soft as they look." Before she could protest he covered her mouth with his. His lips were warm and firm as they moved over hers with a thoroughness that left her breathless. Heat. Thad hadn't expected such heat. In fact, he'd only meant to taunt her while he gave himself a little pleasure. The sort of pleasure he always found in a woman. But this woman wasn't like any he'd ever met before. She appeared prim and proper. But the lips that yielded beneath his tasted dark and sultry, and the body beneath the nondescript gown was lush and ripe. He had an almost overpowering need to savage her mouth and shake loose her cool control. "Teacher." He gripped her roughly by the shoulders and held her a fraction away. His touch caused the strangest sensation. He saw the confusion in her eyes as her lids fluttered. "When I kiss a woman, I expect her to kiss me back." Her eyes widened, then narrowed as she opened her mouth to hurl a response. "Go to..." His lips cut off her words. It gave him a perverted sense of pleasure to catch her unawares. Though he'd intended merely to taste her lips, he suddenly took the kiss deeper.

He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest as his tongue explored her mouth. Shock sliced through Caroline. She hadn't been prepared for this a.s.sault. But even as she recoiled from his touch, she felt herself responding in a primitive way that left her stunned. The touch of his lips on hers electrified her. And for one fleeting moment, she experienced something she'd never believed possible. For one brief moment she felt a thrill of pure pleasure. The body beneath hers was lean and hard, his hands rough. But his lips were soft. Softer than a man's should be. He smelled faintly of horses and leather, alien scents to her. Everything about this man was alien. And dangerous. She knew nothing about him except that his very presence brought fear to hardened gunmen. This handsome, dangerous stranger could take her here, now, and she would be powerless to stop him. That thought was like a sudden splash of cold water. In the blink of an eye, she forgot everything except her anger at his boldness. "You have no right." She pushed free of his lips, though he still held her imprisoned in his arms. She dragged breath into her lungs while he watched her with that same calm, deliberate look. There was a stillness about him, a watchfulness that reminded her of a hunter. "Earlier today you almost killed me." He arched a brow in surprise. ' "When you aimed that gun at the man holding me, you didn't care whether or not the bullet hit me first." "Woman, if I'd wanted you dead, you'd be lying out there with the others. When I aim a gun, I know who's going to be hit by my bullet. " When he released her she stumbled to the far corner of the cave.

He nodded toward the club, which now lay exposed beside her blanket. His tone was low, dangerous. "Stay in your safe corner. Teacher." A slow smile touched the edges of his mouth. "And make certain you keep that club handy." Caroline watched as he took another long drink of whiskey before shoving the cork in the bottle. Using his saddle for a pillow, he pulled his hat over his face. She knew that she was too agitated to be able to sleep now. The thought of that sudden, shocking kiss had her pulse still racing, her blood still heating. She glanced over at the sleeping figure and felt a hot, simmering anger. It infuriated her that the kiss meant so little to the man those outlaws had called The Texan that he was already sleeping as peacefully as an infant. Across from her, the man she watched was struggling with powerful new reactions of his own. The woman's fear was genuine. As was her determination to resist. But hidden beneath those obvious emotions was another, more subtle, more controlled. Though she tried to hide it, he sensed a simmering sensuality in the very proper Caroline Adams. He'd never met anyone who intrigued him as much as the mysterious new schoolteacher. She wasn't at all what she pretended to be. It wasn't the rain that woke Thad; it was the absence of sound. No birds chirped. Even the insects had gone strangely quiet. Something--or someone--was close at hand. His first thought was for the woman. But there was no time to shield her. His fingers wrapped around the rifle. In one smooth motion he came to his knees and lifted the gun to his shoulder. He saw the man reach for Caroline. As the man's hand snaked out, Thad's finger released the trigger and the sound of gunfire shattered the stillness. He heard Caroline cry out as the body dropped to the ground beside her. As Thad started toward her, a voice behind him commanded, "Drop the gun, Texan, or I'll drop you where you stand." Without turning, Thad tossed the rifle into the dirt. "Now the gun belt," came the voice. With one hand Thad unfastened the gun belt and it dropped to the ground at his feet. "That's better." Thad turned to face the gunman called Fox, whose lips twisted into a grim smile. "You don't look so tough to me, Texan." He glanced toward Caroline, who had scrambled to her feet and stood with the blanket around her. "Getting acquainted with the woman, are you?" Thad said nothing as he gauged the distance between himself and the gunman. He'd have only a few seconds to disarm the man. Not enough time to dodge a bullet. But if he was lucky, the first hit wouldn't be fatal. He'd have to see that Fox didn't get a second chance to fire. As if reading his mind, the gunman kept his gaze leveled on Thad as he addressed Caroline. "I still haven't showed you a proper Texas welcome, but I'm going to remedy that as soon as I take care of our hero." Caroline's first waking thought had been that she was caught up in a nightmare. Now she realized it was even worse. The man holding the rifle was part of the vicious gang that had killed the driver and guard. He had come back to finish what he'd started. But why? Why would an outlaw risk the wrath of a gunman like The Texan? She swallowed back the panic that threatened to choke her. There was no time for fear. She needed a clear mind and an iron will if she were to survive.

Keeping the blanket around her, Caroline took a step closer to the gunman. Her throat was so dry she feared for a moment that she wouldn't be able to speak. Haltingly she said, "It's Fox, isn't it?" He was genuinely pleased that she remembered his name. And when the blanket slipped a little, revealing Caroline's creamy throat, his pleasure became even more evident. "It isn't fair that you know my name and I don't know yours." "Caroline." Her voice lowered seductively. "Caroline Adams." As she sauntered closer the blanket slipped a little more, tugging her dress from her shoulder. Feigning innocence, she glanced at her naked flesh, then drew the blanket tight. Fox, having seen an expanse of bare skin, was suddenly distracted as he studied her through narrowed eyes. From his position Thad was impressed. It was just about the best acting he'd ever witnessed. The schoolteacher didn't even appear frightened. But he'd caught the first glimpse of fear in her eyes before she'd composed herself. And he could see the way her hand trembled. "Guess we won't be needing you around anymore, Texan," Fox called smugly. As he aimed his gun, Caroline lifted the edge of her blanket and brought the club down as hard as she could on Fox's arm. That was all the time Thad needed. With one leap he landed on Fox and brought him to the ground, where the two men wrestled for the pistol. Caroline heard the gun's report and saw Thad jerk backward as the bullet ripped through his shoulder, opening the already raw wound. With a growl of pain he reached for the gunman, but his movements were slowed and Fox easily dodged his grasp.

As the gunman got to his feet, he lifted the pistol and took aim at Thad's chest. "No." Caroline brought the club crashing over Fox's head and watched as he went down on his knees. But the blow wasn't enough to stop him. With a savage oath he turned and aimed the gun at her. Her chest heaving from the exertion, Caroline whispered a prayer for courage and slowly squeezed her eyes shut. Her puny club was no match against his weapon. But at least, she thought with a flash of pride, she had given The Texan a brief reprieve. She heard the gunfire and waited for the pain. Her eyes flickered open and she gave a gasp of surprise. The Texan and Fox were once more struggling over the gun. Plunging into the fray, she lifted her club and brought it down on Fox's head. This time he dropped to the dirt and stayed there. "Nice going." Thad rolled aside and lay struggling for breath. Between gasps he muttered, "You pack a mean punch with that club, ma'am." She flushed with pleasure at his unexpected compliment. "Is he...?" Thad felt for a pulse and looked up. "No such luck. Would you mind bringing me the rope from my saddle?" When Caroline returned with his la.s.so, he tied the unconscious man's hands and feet and, with great effort, tossed him over the mare's back. Caroline watched as Thad slowly saddled his stallion. She could see the effort it cost him as blood seeped through his binding and streamed down his arm. "We have to get that bullet out." "Later." He grimaced in pain. "Right now I'd just like to deliver you and our gunman to town." "But" -- He held up a hand. "Sorry, Teacher. I think I've had all the excitement I can handle for a while."

L/aroline bent and retrieved her hat and spectacles from the rock shelter. Thad's pain was momentarily forgotten as his gaze centered on her rounded bottom. Did she do these things to entice him, or was she really unaware of what she was doing? He watched as she carefully twisted her hair into a knot and adjusted her hat. Then she affixed her gla.s.ses to her nose and modestly held the remnants of her bodice together. In the blink of an eye she was transformed into the plain, homely creature he had first seen. Without a word he helped her into the saddle, then, with great effort, pulled himself onto the horse's back behind her. She felt the sudden, shocking jolt as his arms encircled her waist and grasped the reins. She was reminded once again of the kiss they'd shared during the night. She hoped and prayed with all her might that this stranger had forgotten. And though she knew she'd never forget the feelings that kiss had aroused, she vowed to put it out of her mind forever. Thad nudged his stallion into a trot and the mare, despite the dead weight of Fox, danced alongside them. Caroline was pressed against the length of his torso. Keeping her spine rigid, her head high, she held herself stiffly as they started toward town. How could she possibly endure being held like this all the way to Hope? It would be a test of her determination, she decided. If she truly desired a new life, she would endure anything. Even the heat that danced along her spine at this man's touch. Thad breathed in the fragrance of rose-scented water that clung to her hair. It stirred long-forgotten memories. Of a mother whose face he had never seen, and whose memory was kept alive only in stories told him by his family. Of an older sister who'd been both mother and father to him. Their mother's jar of rose water had been as precious as gold, evoking remnants of the life left behind. Even now, all these years later, Thad could still see in his mind their sod shack and the stretch of land along the Rio Grande they called home. Life here in Texas had been hard. And austere, compared with most. But the memories still brought him pleasure. It was a life that suited him. He could imagine no other. He watched the wind play with the little tendrils of dark hair that pried loose from Caroline's neat knot. He knew nothing about Eastern fashion. But the dress she was wearing was just about the ugliest he'd ever seen. Not to mention that ridiculous bonnet perched atop her head and the simple round gla.s.ses. He was clearly puzzled. Most of the women he knew would do anything to make themselves look pretty. Why would any woman, so young and obviously beautiful, try to make herself appear plain? He pulled his hat low on his head to shade the sun from his eyes. What the h.e.l.l did he care? Caroline Adams was none of his concern. And as soon as he deposited her irr town, he'd go about his business. Still, he was curious. "Where are you from?" She gave the slightest pause before she replied, Boston. " " How'd you find out Hope needed a schoolteacher? " " There was a letter from the mayor posted in our church. " " And you just volunteered to travel thousands of miles to fill a need? " Caroline nodded. He waited. But when she offered nothing more, he muttered, "Did you know the town was in the middle of nowhere?" ' "It sounded like" -- she almost said heaven, but caught herself in time "--the kind of challenge I was looking for." "Challenge?" She heard the smile in his voice and found herself bristling. "Do you think cowboys and gunmen are the only ones who thrive on adventure?" "No, ma'am." His tone was still warm with laughter. "It appears to me that you've already had enough adventure for a year or two. A whole herd of gunmen, a dead driver and guard, a runaway stage. " "Not to mention a crude cowboy with the manners of a mule." He threw back his head and roared. "Now, ma'am, I'd say more like a stallion. But I'll admit, it was a fine adventure." "Don't flatter yourself." He swallowed back his laughter. Pressing his mouth to her ear, he muttered, "Would you care to kiss me again, Schoolmarm? This time we'll see who backs off first." His voice, low and teasing, caused her pulse to accelerate. With every mile, she had become more and more aware of the muscled body pressed to hers, of the work-roughened hands guiding the reins. As the sun rose high in the sky, Caroline began to question her wisdom in trusting this man. How did she know if he was really taking her to Hope? She had seen how efficiently he'd disposed of those gunmen. She could be facing an even worse fate at his hands. He could be taking her to a cabin miles from the nearest outpost. She glanced at the rifle resting in the boot of the saddle. If she were to move her hand slowly, she might be able to make it look as if she were merely flexing her fingers. Then, if he made any sudden moves, she would be able to defend herself. Thad felt the slight tensing of her muscles as she moved her hand. A faint smile touched the corner of his lips as her fingers curled around the barrel of the rifle. ' "I think that hat pin of yours might be a better weapon." At the sound of his deep voice so close to her ear, she stifled a gasp. "I don't know what you mean." Composing herself, she turned slightly, and though her tone was haughty, he could see the betraying blush on her cheeks. "Don't ever play poker, Teacher." She bristled at the laughter that colored his words. "How can I be sure you're taking me to Hope?" "You can't." His tone sent a shiver of fear along her spine. "You'll just have to trust me." "Trust you? I'd rather..." She bit her lip. It wouldn't do to reveal anything more to this stranger. After all, as her etiquette book advised, a lady always kept her thoughts to herself. "How much farther?"

none of his concern. And as soon as he deposited her in town, he'd go about his business. Still, he was curious. "Where are you from?" She gave the slightest pause before she replied, Boston. " " How'd you find out Hope needed a schoolteacher? " "There was a letter from the mayor posted in our church." "And you just volunteered to travel thousands of miles to fill a need?" Caroline nodded. He waited. But when she offered nothing more, he muttered, "Did you know the town was in the middle of nowhere?" "It sounded like" -- she almost said heaven, but caught herself in time "--the kind of challenge I was looking for." "Challenge?" She heard the smile in his voice and found herself bristling. "Do you think cowboys and gunmen are the only ones who thrive on adventure?" "No, ma'am." His tone was still warm with laughter. "It appears to me that you've already had enough adventure for a year or two. A whole herd of gunmen, a dead driver and guard, a runaway stage." ' "Not to mention a crude cowboy with the manners of a mule." He threw back his head and roared. "Now, ma'am, I'd say more like a stallion. But I'll admit, it was a fine adventure." "Don't flatter yourself." He swallowed back his laughter. Pressing his mouth to her ear, he muttered, "Would you care to kiss me again, Schoolmarm? This time we'll see who backs off first." His voice, low and teasing, caused her pulse to accelerate. With every mile, she had become more and more aware of the muscled body pressed to hers, of the work-roughened hands guiding the reins. As the sun rose high in the sky, Caroline began to question her wisdom in trusting this man. How did she know if he was really taking her to Hope? She had seen how efficiently he'd disposed of those gunmen. She could be facing an even worse fate at his hands. He could be taking her to a cabin miles from the nearest outpost. She glanced at the rifle resting in the boot of the saddle. If she were to move her hand slowly, she might be able to make it look as if she were merely flexing her fingers. Then, if he made any sudden moves, she would be able to defend herself. Thad felt the slight tensing of her muscles as she moved her hand. A faint smile touched the corner of his lips as her fingers curled around the barrel of the rifle. "I think that hat pin of yours might be a better weapon." At the sound of his deep voice so close to her ear, she stifled a gasp. "I. don't know what you mean. " Composing herself, she turned slightly, and though her tone was haughty, he could see the betraying blush on her cheeks. "Don't ever play poker. Teacher." She bristled at the laughter that colored his words. "How can I be sure you're taking me to Hope?" "You can't." His tone sent a shiver of fear along her spine. "You'll just have to trust me." "Trust you? I'd rather..." She bit her lip. It wouldn't do to reveal anything more to this stranger. After all, as her etiquette book advised, a lady always kept her thoughts to herself. "How much farther?"

"Just beyond that ridge." Caroline scanned the area for any sign of the team. Wouldn't the horses have left a trail if they'd pa.s.sed this way? What if her trunks were lost along the way and never recovered? The thought of losing the warm shawl she'd knitted and the prim gray dress she'd planned to wear in the cla.s.sroom was bad enough. But the thought of losing her precious supply of books was almost more than she could bear. She had no money left with which to replace them. "There's the town." As the horses crested the ridge, Caroline looked down on the dusty little town of Hope. A wide dirt trail ran through the center of a row of wooden buildings. The stallion, sensing food and shelter, began to strain against the bit. Thad gave him his head and he broke into a run. The mare sailed behind, keeping pace. As they drew closer Caroline could make out the buildings. At the beginning of town was the blacksmith's shop, and beside it a barn and stables. Across the road was a general store, a dry goods store and a sheriffs office and jail. Further on was a saloon and rooming house. At the very end of town she could see a church. Dotted here and there on distant hillsides were solid-looking houses and barns. As they started down the wide, dusty trail through the center of town, Caroline saw heads turn as people caught sight of their horse. She hoped that they would go first to the jail with the now conscious Fox, who muttered obscenities with every movement of the mare. She prayed she could quietly slip into the sheriffs office before anyone took notice of her state of undress. Behind their hands women whispered as they pa.s.sed, and children ran ahead, shouting about a gunman. Caroline a.s.sumed that they were talking about Fox. She noted that the street soon filled with people, all taking in the unusual scene. Her hand gripped her torn bodice. She was acutely uncomfortable at the sight of so many cold, staring faces. Thad Con way looked neither left nor right. It was as if the townspeople weren't even there. As they approached the jail, one man separated himself from the others and made his way toward Thad's horse. His hair had gone white, and a drooping white mustache contrasted sharply with skin the color and texture of aged leather. Though he was no taller than the others in the crowd, there was a solidness about him. When he spoke, his voice rang with authority. "Texan. What brings you to town? The only time we ever see you is when we need you or you need us. And you haven't needed us in all the years I've been here." When Thad said nothing, the sheriff cleared his throat. "Got a present for me?" "Yeah, Sheriff Horn. His name's Fox. Riding with Luke Cochran's gang. Don't know why they attacked the stage. They're usually more interested in strongboxes than pa.s.sengers. " He shrugged, deciding to keep the rest of his thoughts to himself. "They killed the driver and guard. The rest of the gang are dead." The sheriff glanced toward the man who was tossed over the mare's back and spoke sharply to a deputy before looking up at the woman seated in front of Thad. "I'm glad you brought me a gunman. But I'm more interested in the woman." "Oh." Thad grinned. "This is Caroline Adams. Your new schoolmarm."

He slid from the back of the horse and helped her from the saddle. "Miss Adams." The sheriff offered his hand and she self-consciously wiped her hand along her skirt before extending hers. "I'm sure glad you're here. Miss Adams. We were worried. The team hauled the stage into town last night, but there was no one aboard. We were afraid you'd all been..." "I would have been, if it hadn't been for this man." "The Texan always seems to find trouble," the sheriff said dryly. "Are you alright, ma'am? You weren't wounded by those gunmen?" "I'm fine. But my things..." Caroline said eagerly, turning to the sheriff. "Were they still aboard?" "Yes, ma'am. They're in my office. I was just getting up a posse to start searching for you." Caroline felt a wave of relief that her baggage hadn't been lost. "The attack took place by Circle Rock. You'll find the bodies of the driver and guard," Thad said, "and the rest of the outlaws. I'd go with you, but I want Doc to take a look at my shoulder." "Took another bullet, did you?" Sheriff Horn glanced at the blood that soaked the front of Thad's shirt. Touching his hand to his hat, Thad turned to Caroline. "I'll leave you with Sheriff Horn." As he sauntered away, the crowd hurriedly stepped aside to clear a path. He took no notice of them. "Miss Adams," the sheriff said, "we sure are glad to welcome you to Hope." As a crowd gathered around her, Caroline glanced down at her torn clothing. This was certainly not how she'd planned to present herself to the people of Hope. But once again, it seemed, her destiny had been taken out of her hands. It was the story of her life.

As she watched the stranger enter a small building beside the jail, she lifted her head in an unconscious gesture of defiance. No more would she be a victim of her past. From now on, her life was an unwritten book. And today was a brand-new page. Thad crossed the dusty road and opened the door of a neat wooden building. Inside, a man looked up from the small child who lay on the examining table. Standing beside him, a handsome Comanche boy of about ten watched his every move. "Thad." The doctor's wide smile faded when he saw the blood that soaked Thad's shirt. "Bullet?" Thad nodded and slumped wearily into a chair. "I'll be with you in a minute." The doctor completed his examination and handed the child to his young mother, who hovered nearby. After a few softly spoken commands, he watched them leave, then turned to Thad. For a few seconds the two men merely stared at each other, then, with a wide smile, the doctor said, "Jessie and Morning Light were worried about you." With a grin, he added, "h.e.l.l, so was I. What kept you?" "It's a long story." Thad tousled the Comanche boy's hair. "Runs With The Wind, I think you've grown a foot since I left." The boy gave him a look of adoration. As Thad removed his shirt and lay on the table, the doctor plunged his hands into a bucket of water and began scrubbing. Examining the wound, he shook his head. "Been doing my job again?" Thad's laugh was cut short by a sharp pain. Sucking in his breath he said, "The bullet was festering so I dug it out. But now there's a second one." "What is it about you?" Clan Con way asked as he began to probe. "Can't you ever keep your gun in your holster? Or do you just like pain?" "Yeah, it's the pain. I just can't seem to stay away from it. I guess it all started at the age of four when that mustang stepped on my foot and I discovered I liked pain." Across the table. Runs With The Wind laughed heartily at Thad's joke. As the doctor probed further, his face revealed his concern. "I'd better give you some chloroform. This one is going to hurt." "I don't want to be knocked out. I need to get to the ranch." ' "Not tonight. You can stay with us. Morning Light complains that you haven't spent enough time with your niece and nephews." "How are little Danny and Kate?" "Fat and sa.s.sy. You can see them for yourself tonight." "I'll come by in a day or two. I promise. But tonight I have to get to my ranch. I've been away so long, Manuel and Rosita will think I'm not coming back." "You're not. At least not tonight." The doctor reached for a brown-tinted bottle on his shelf, but Thad stopped him. ' "I mean it, Clan. No fancy drugs. Just dig out the bullet and let me get on my way." "All right." The doctor handed Thad a piece of rawhide. "Better bite down on this. Hard." With the boy at his side, Clan Con way worked quickly. He cut open a flap of flesh and began to probe for the bullet. While he worked, he described in detail every step of the operation to Runs With The Wind. The boy listened intently. "In time you'll be able to tell the difference between bone and muscle and the feel of a bullet embedded in flesh." The boy nodded. "You have to work quickly, especially when you're dealing with a patient so thick headed he won't allow you to use modern medicine." Despite the somberness of the occasion, the boy chuckled. Neither of them was aware of the door opening or of the figure that paused just inside the room. As soon as the crowd dispersed, Caroline had a compelling need to see that the man who had saved her was getting the attention he deserved at the medical dispensary. It was not that she wanted to see him again, she told herself firmly, but she had not properly thanked him. A lady should always thank a gentleman for coming to her rescue. Besides, she didn't even know his name. While she watched, Thad spit the rawhide from his mouth and muttered, "Get on with it, dammit. It hurts like h.e.l.l." The front of the doctor's shirt was smeared with fresh blood. Leaning close he stuck the rawhide back into Thad's mouth and continued probing. "One more thing. Runs With The Wind. If a patient starts swearing at the doctor, the doctor has the right to gag him. If that doesn't work, a well-placed blow to the jaw usually does the trick." Caroline couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could this man call himself a doctor? What sort of primitive practice was this, that a man could be subjected to such pain without even being given chloroform or laudanum?

Inching closer, she stared down at the stranger, lying on the table. Sweat beaded his brow. Pain was etched in his eyes. A piece of leather? Is this what was offered a man who risked his life to save another? Worse, while he was forced to lie there, racked with pain, must he be tormented with cruel taunts? Her gaze swung from Runs With The Wind to the doctor. A couple of savages. What sort of place was this? she thought miserably. "If you'll take a seat, ma'am," the doctor said without looking up, "I'll be with you when I've finished here." "I--came to see the man they call The Texan." Thad turned his head. Through a mist of pain he made out the familiar figure. Again he spat out the rawhide. "Forget something. Teacher?" "I... never properly thanked you," she said. At the questioning looks on the faces of the others, Thad explained quickly, "This is Caroline Adams. She survived the attack on the stage. Miss Adams, this is Dr. Clan Con- way. " Clan studied the woman in the torn, muddy gown and nodded stiffly before stuffing the rawhide into Thad's mouth and bending to his work. "The whole town was worried about the empty stage." He fell silent when the tip of his knife sc.r.a.ped metal. Unceremoniously dropping the bullet to the floor, he began to mop the blood that now flowed like a river from Thad's shoulder. At a choking sound from Thad he paused. Again Thad spat the rawhide. In a voice rough with pain he swore savagely. "The d.a.m.ned cure is worse than the ill. The bullet never hurt as much going in as it just did coming out." ' "Remember that the next time you find yourself facing a gun. You don't have to jump into every fight." Clan poured a lib