The Half-Breed's Woman Page 13

  Jaxson sat forward a little. His side had begun to ache after the long hours in the saddle. “What is it you think I might be able to do, Captain? After all, he very nearly killed all of us yesterday.”

  “You prevented that, though, Mr. McCall.” The captain regarded him steadily. “You know something of their ways, their language, their customs—”

  “And?”

  “Well, don’t you see, Marshal, if you could stay here, just for a few days—talk to Blue Feather as his—blood brother—maybe the dissatisfaction could be quelled! Perhaps you could talk him out of further insurrection!”

  “Captain, I’m afraid you expect the impossible.” Jax’s eyes were hooded, his expression languid.

  “I agree, Captain,” Talmadge Manley interjected. “It wasn’t as if Marshal McCall and Blue Feather were gathered at the treaty table.” He gave a short laugh. “I doubt if Blue Feather would have talked at all if he hadn’t been at the business end of the marshal’s knife. He simply had no choice. But now, he does.”

  “But, there might be a chance, gentlemen, a chance! If the marshal bested Blue Feather in battle, it’s my understanding that should elevate his status with the Apache. They just might listen to what he has to say.” He turned his gaze to Jaxson, his eyes narrowing. “It has been said that you carry Indian blood, Marshal. Is that true?”

  Jax gave him a cool stare in return. “My mother was Cherokee. A far cry from Apache, Captain.”

  “Yet, you speak the Apache language.”

  “I speak Spanish as well, but I’m no Mexican or Spaniard.”

  The captain flushed hotly.

  “Captain, beggin’ your pardon, sir, but—well, the marshal is riding with us this time out,” Trey said in the awkward silence. Sam nodded his agreement, and Trey continued. “If he hadn’t-a been with us, we’d of ended up like that other stage. Poor devils.”

  The captain gave a reluctant smile. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. Of course, I don’t mean to take your—protection from you, Mr. Newell. I understand your trepidation.” He sighed. “I was selfishly thinking of a solution to our problem here.” He looked at Jax. “And I certainly meant no offense to you earlier, Marshal.”

  After a few minutes, Sam and Trey both rose to leave, followed shortly by the reverend. As Jax stood up to go, Captain Tolbert turned to him once again.

  “Marshal, there’s another matter I wish to discuss with you. The young woman traveling with you—Callie Buchanan—how do you know her?”

  Jax’s neck prickled, but he gave the Captain a thin smile. “Well, now, Captain, that’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. Just…what do you mean?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Marshal,” Tolbert said tersely. “We get the same wanted posters every law office gets. If I’m not mistaken, I’ve got one on her.”

  Jax remained unruffled. “Hence, the invitation to dinner.” He shifted in his chair, and stretched his legs out. It was the captain’s move.

  “Yes,” he nodded slowly, “that was part of it.” Tolbert at least had the good grace to flush at his own bald admission.

  Jax reached for his drink. “What did she do, supposedly, to warrant a poster?”

  The captain gave a caustic snort. “Surely, you know. She wouldn’t be with you, otherwise. Attempted murder.”

  Jax gave him a long look. “You’re right, Captain,” he said after a minute. “She is…my prisoner.”

  “You’ll forgive me for pointing out the obvious, Marshal; the girl is—more—than a prisoner, is she not?” Tolbert took a long draw from his cigar.

  Jax studied the man as he spoke, watched Tolbert puff up with self-importance, and thought disgustedly how he wished now they’d stayed at the stage station.

  “Well, Captain,” Jax drawled, “I’d hardly be a gentleman if I told you everything that’s been said—and done—between Callie and me.”

  “A gentleman, sir, would not have asked for private quarters—with the prisoner!”

  Jax checked his temper, reined it in sharply, forced himself to relax. He eased back into his chair. “You think she is…unwilling, Captain? I assure you, had I not requested them, she would have.”

  “Let me be straightforward with you, Mr. McCall.” The captain leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “She’s the stepdaughter of a very important Washington diplomat. I’m not going to lose my commission here over a scandal blowing up in my face.”

  Jax smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He pointedly looked at the insignia on the captain’s shoulder. “I could see how that would worry you, knowing how you came by your rank, Brevet Captain.”

  Tolbert stiffened in his seat. “I was brevetted for my bravery on the battlefield, Marshal. I rode with General Custer for two years,” he blustered, “and no one could accuse him of being incapable simply because he was a brevetted general!”

  Jax shook his head and gave a short laugh. “Brevetted or not, Captain, Custer was a pompous, arrogant ass. I’d say the results at Little Big Horn proved his stupidity and his incapability, no matter how he got his stripes.”

  Tolbert half-rose from his seat.

  Jax gripped the arms of his chair, but did not deign to rise in challenge. His eyes glittered coldly. “Don’t do it, I advise you strongly,” he murmured in a low, hard voice. “When it comes to hand-to-hand, I can finish you off in about one minute flat. That eagle on your shoulder won’t do you a damn bit of good if you take me on, Brevet Captain Tolbert.”

  Tolbert lowered himself slowly back into his chair, his fury evident in every taut line of his body. After a moment, he spoke in a voice trembling with anger. “Perhaps you are right, Marshal. Perhaps you could dispatch me in ‘one minute flat,’ as you contend. But you are on a military post, under military law. As I said, this commission is important to me, and I am unwilling to relinquish it; in fact, I refuse to let you or that—girl, or anyone else cause me embarrassment.”

  “Fine, Captain. We’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”

  Tolbert cocked his head to the side. “Not good enough, Marshal. I’m afraid if I’m to let you travel on with your—prisoner, other measures must be taken. If you are not agreeable,” he shrugged, “then your prisoner will remain here. In my protective custody. Indefinitely.”

  Jax pretended a negligent indifference. “What ‘other measures’ are you hoping to impose, Tolbert?”

  “Marriage,” the captain answered succinctly. “And I’m not ‘hoping’ Marshal. I am determined to see it done.”

  Chapter 16

  Callie lay, fully clothed, across the small bed. What was taking Jax so long? Tonight, she was determined to set things straight between them. After their talk earlier today beside the creek, she felt as if the relationship had subtly shifted between them.

  She remembered the half-teasing way he’d asked her if she truly cared for him, the compelling way his eyes had held hers as she spoke, and the husky edge his voice carried when he answered her.

  She loved him. The realization flooded her, left her shaking with its strength and all the ramifications it entailed. She was just his prisoner…or was she? Could she dare to hope that he felt anything for her, other than the need to protect her as his prisoner?

  She clamped her teeth over her bottom lip in the darkness. She didn’t regret one minute of what had passed between them. She wouldn’t have changed anything…other than the fact that she’d like to know that he felt something for her other than protectiveness. She sighed heavily.

  She would be honest with him tonight, despite his reticence to discuss their relationship. Before, when she’d brought it up, he’d told her they’d talk about it in Amarillo. She couldn’t wait that long.

  Despite everything that had befallen her in the past few weeks, this situation with Jax was the thing that weighed most heavily on her mind. She hadn’t expected to fall in love. It wasn’t her fault. But did it really matter? Her thoughts tumbled over and over, with no clear answer, no ideal solution.

  Realistic
ally, she told herself, she couldn’t expect him to feel for her the way she felt for him. He was doing his job. More than anything, she couldn’t bear the thought that he might pity her. Anything but that! Her cheeks burned hot as the thought came to her, but seconds later, the anger was overridden by uncertain tears. She punched at the flat pillow and turned over.

  Somehow, Jaxson McCall had replaced every thought, every emotion, every ideal she’d known. He had become everything. She’d fought her feelings for him since the day he’d so casually walked into the dining room at the Gold Leaf Hotel and introduced himself. Since the first day they’d met!

  She wanted him—not, as she had so naively convinced herself, for one night, she thought miserably. She wanted him every night, every day, every minute—for the rest of their lives.

  She began to pray. Then, in desperation, she began to bargain, and was instantly reminded of the day before, when she’d bargained with God for Jaxson’s life. Now, she wanted more. Not only his life, but for him to spend it with her.

  Was that so wrong? To want happiness? She knew Jax well enough to know that he was not happy either. A saddle tramp, but a paid one, at least. Rootless, drifting, always moving, with no place to call home, no family—

  What if he did, in fact, want to continue on the way he was—being a marshal? Maybe he didn’t have the money to buy a stake—cattle, and such, to set up his own ranch.

  Even though he’d once mentioned his father having a large ranch, he hadn’t gone into any detail. In fact, he had not wanted to discuss his father at all. In fact, he’d been quite adept at changing the subject. The barest hint of regret colored the bitterness when he had spoken of Jack McCall.

  She went back to her bargaining. God could do anything. Even make Jaxson McCall fall in love with her. Even if Jax didn’t want to be in love or settle down or have a family…

  Callie sighed, shifting again. She was being selfish.

  She didn’t care.

  She began again, redoubling her efforts to catch God’s ear, to make Him see reason about her need for Jaxson McCall. After all, she thought resentfully, it would be easy for God to take away her own potent desire for the man. But no, He probably wouldn’t see fit to do that, either. She’d just remain caught in Hell here on earth—in love with a man who didn’t love her.

  A moment later, a harsh knock sounded on the little guest house door. Callie jumped, brushing away the traces of her tears. “Coming!” she called, when the beating sounded once more. She rose to answer it, trepidation in her chest. Somehow, she had a feeling that her pleadings with the Almighty were about to be answered.

  ****

  Callie thrust the bolt back and opened the door, surprised to be staring into the faces of Captain Tolbert, the Reverend and Mrs. Manley, four armed soldiers—and Jaxson McCall.

  “You will come with us, please, ma’am.” Captain Tolbert’s tone was polite, but very short.

  Callie reached for the lantern and turned up the wick.

  “Come with you? Where?” she asked, not moving.

  There was silence for a few seconds, then the captain said, “Marshal McCall has so graciously acquiesced to marry you, Miss Buchanan.” His voice was almost mocking. Callie’s head snapped around to meet his hazel eyes in the lantern light, noticing as she did so that his right eye was swollen and bruised, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He reached up unconsciously and wiped at it.

  “Captain? What happened—” Callie began, but he cut her off curtly.

  “Unimportant, Miss Buchanan. Please—we need to see this done. Your marriage.”

  “Marriage…” she breathed, returning her gaze slowly to Jax. As her attention was given to the object of her earlier prayers, she noted that he, too, sported a black eye, a trickling cut on his cheek, and was standing in a way that favored his injured side.

  “Come, Miss Callie,” the reverend said kindly, reaching for her cold hand.

  Callie looked back at Jax, read in his obsidian gaze that he was furious at the situation she did not yet fully understand. So furious, in fact, that he wasn’t saying a word.

  “Jax—”

  The harsh light in his eyes guttered out as she spoke his name. He wasn’t angry with her. She was as much a victim of the captain’s self-righteous good intentions as Jax himself was.

  Callie reached out to touch him, but the soldiers on either side of him stepped forward and crossed their rifles, barring her way. He gave them a disbelieving look, shaking his head.

  The reverend pulled her forward with a firm but gentle hand, and Mrs. Manley looped her arm through Callie’s as the entire group walked back across the end of the dusty street to the mess hall.

  Inside, the soldiers immediately took up positions around that portion of the room, their weapons aimed directly at Jax. Callie stood perfectly still. Cara Manley disengaged her arm, and moved to stand beside her husband.

  Without preamble, the captain regarded Callie. “I know who you are, Miss Buchanan, and I know what you’ve done. It’s my understanding that Marshal McCall intends to escort you to Amarillo—” his eyes raked her worn gown, “since you are in need of clothing. He tells me, at that point, you will head back toward St. Louis, then on to Washington. That is none of my concern, and I don’t care to know why you’re this far west when you should be traveling the opposite direction. I trust the marshal is an—honorable—man. He will do as he deems fit.”

  Callie stared at the captain. He and Jax had fought—the evidence was plain enough. But why? And how did marriage come into it?

  Maybe she had misunderstood. Yes, she decided, that was the only explanation. She’d been praying for marriage and she had been thinking about that when they’d come to her door. As if from far away, Callie heard herself ask in a cool voice, “What is your point, Captain Tolbert?”

  The captain gave her a long stare, and she met it, not looking away. Finally, he smiled.

  “My point, Miss Buchanan, is that you are a fugitive, the stepdaughter of a prominent Washington diplomat, traveling with the marshal, here, in the wrong direction. You can certainly understand how I might be held responsible for your—welfare—should your stepfather learn that you were here, sleeping with a man who is supposed to be protecting you—”

  Callie reached out and delivered a stinging blow across the captain’s already battered face with the flat of her hand. The slap resounded across the empty mess hall, surprising the captain. His hand went to his cheek, his eyes narrowing.

  “How dare you?” she murmured in a low voice alive with intolerable anger. “Just who do you think you are, Captain, to interfere with a Federal Deputy Marshal anyway? You’re so worried about a scandal behind your garrison walls that you’re willing to go to these lengths?” She gave a brittle laugh. “To marry the marshal and me forcibly?”

  “That’s right, Miss Buchanan,” the captain answered, still rubbing his reddened cheek. “It will ensure that I took all precautions to protect you—and myself—knowing the situation between you and the marshal.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “That’s exactly what the marshal wondered. As I told him, you will remain here indefinitely as our—guest. Until your stepfather can come for you, you will remain under my protection.”

  Callie swallowed hard. There was no choice. Not for her anyway. But for Jax… She turned to look at him. Was that why he and the captain had come to blows? Was he that desperate to avoid marriage? There was something unreadable in his features. But, she had to know. To be sure…

  Callie gave Tolbert a faint, brittle smile. “You leave both of us with little choice, Captain. West Point was remiss in your etiquette instruction, obviously. May I speak with Mr. McCall privately?”

  The captain pursed his lips. “Briefly, ma’am. Believe me, I don’t like doing this—”

  “Jax?” Callie ignored the captain, turning to Jax, as he reached for her hand.

  They moved away a few steps, and Callie heard the captain call, “Fi
ve minutes, Miss Buchanan.”

  She looked up into Jax’s face. He gave her a quick smile, then grimaced. “I guess it could always be worse. You—might be marrying that bastard instead of—”

  She couldn’t help herself. She reached up and touched his cheek, wishing she had something to wipe away the blood. The look in his eyes was questioning, and Callie could see he was unsure, though he tried to cover it.

  She smiled up at him, sure that her love for him must be written plainly across her face.

  “Callie—”

  She touched a soft finger to his lips. “Jax—will you…will you ask me? The proper way, I mean.” She glanced over to where the others waited. “I know we don’t have much time left, but will you…” she broke off, suddenly embarrassed that a simple proposal meant that much to her. Especially at a time like this.

  ****

  Jax’s palms tingled as Callie took his hands in hers. He looked into her face, noting the concern in her dark eyes, and…the love. His heart stopped, then raced forward at breakneck speed. He hadn’t mistaken that look, not this time. It was there, and it was real.

  “Ah, Callie—I’m not sure what the words are. The ‘proper’ words you want to hear. But—will you marry me, Cal? Laugh with me, love with me, have babies with me—” he broke off, seeing her eyes fill with sudden tears, knowing he’d said it just the way she had wanted to hear it.

  Her arms went around his neck and he kissed her thoroughly, long and hot and wet, her mouth open under his.

  “Marry me?” he whispered against her cheek, finally, and she nodded.

  “Yes, oh yes, Jax—”

  “It won’t be easy,” he warned softly.

  “It’s what I want. You’re what I want.”

  It was all he needed to hear.

  “McCall—” Tolbert’s reminder seemed to come from a very far distance.

  “Yeah, I know,” Jax answered, his gaze holding Callie’s. “We’re ready.” He released her, taking her cold fingers into his warm, sure grip.