The Half-Breed's Woman Read online

  She quickly unlocked the door, then relocked it from the outside with the extra room key, hurrying down the stairway.

  She glanced around the lobby, but saw no one that fit the man’s description. Of course, there wouldn’t be, she told herself. He’d have been a fool to have stayed here inside the hotel. But if she walked outside, onto the boardwalk, he’d find her soon enough.

  She approached the woman at the desk who had brought her the note. “Where did he go? The man who left the note?” she asked.

  The desk clerk’s eyes were round with concern. “You ain’t gonna go find him, are you?”

  “Please, I must! If you know anything at all—”

  “I don’t, miss. I swear I don’t know anything.”

  After a moment, Callie gave a slow nod, her spirits sinking. Fear settled over her, numbing her. She felt sick at her stomach, but forced the thought away. She must concentrate on finding Carlos. “Dr. Naylor will be here shortly.” She handed the woman her key. “Will you please see that he gets this?”

  “I sure will. Please, be careful, miss…”

  Callie gave the desk clerk a quick nod. Reluctantly, she turned and headed for the door.

  Once outside, she looked up and down the wooden walkway. A man with blue eyes, the woman had said. Bright blue… Blocker’s man.

  She took a few halting steps, then saw a familiar face coming her way. Her knees almost buckled in relief. Jeremy! Thank God! He would know what to do.

  He met her eyes, giving her a puzzled stare. As Jeremy took the next step toward her, a man stepped out of a doorway just behind him. Only steps from one another, Callie couldn’t miss the pistol the man pressed into Jeremy’s back.

  “Keep moving, doctor, and don’t turn around,” the man demanded.

  Jeremy stopped, surprised, but the gun jammed meaningfully just under his ribcage prompted his legs to move once more.

  ****

  Callie stood watching, mesmerized. The man was just as the hotel clerk had described him. Tall, with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. And the most evil eyes, she thought, including Wolf Blocker’s.

  “Let’s go,” the man said, gripping her arm as she stumbled back on rubbery legs. “I said, let’s go, bitch,” he snarled, propelling Callie along even as he kept the gun trained on Jeremy.

  They rounded the corner of the building where they were met by another shorter-built man holding their horses.

  “Shit, Bobby, you got the wrong man. This ain’t McCall!”

  “Ah, hell, don’t worry so much! I got the girl. And McCall, he’ll come after a purty piece of ass like her.” A jagged smile formed ‘Bobby’s’ lips. “O’ course, she may be a little used by the time he finds us…” The man called Bobby helped Callie mount, then vaulted up behind her. “An’ ol’ Doc, here, he’s spent a lot of time upstairs with McCall. Bet McCall’d even come for him.” He gave a loud laugh at his own words.

  “Who are you? What’s this all about?” Jeremy questioned.

  “Why, Bobby Lane at your service,” he answered mockingly, tipping his hat. “You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. We was after the girl and the marshal. But, like I said, he’ll come. For her.”

  Jeremy’s jaw tightened.

  “Now, mount up,” Lane ordered, “and don’t try anything. I’ll have a gun on this little lady just to make sure you behave, Doctor.”

  Callie could feel the man’s breath fanning her hair as he spoke, and a shiver raced up her spine. She could tell just how he was looking at her by the sound of his voice.

  The shorter man took the reins to Jeremy’s horse, setting a fast pace as they rode out of town.

  Chapter 24

  Brendan had made a quick stop at the Carlton’s station, hoping to find out if they’d seen his brother, or if Jax had left the stagecoach before he’d gotten to their post.

  “Come inside, Bren,” Marney Carlton said. “I’ll fix you some lunch. Bet you’re nigh starved, aren’t you?”

  He gave her a wide, white grin. “How’d you know, Marney?”

  She dried her hands on a cuptowel. “I know how appreciative you marshals are of any good meals you can get.”

  She looked anxious, somehow, Brendan thought. “Something wrong, Marney?”

  “Come on inside.”

  Marney nodded at a chair as they entered the small kitchen.

  Bren pulled it out from under the table, dropped into it. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his throat dry.

  Marney turned toward the stove and began to dish up some stew and biscuits. She put the food in front of Brendan, then took a chair and sat down herself.

  He took a bite, then wiped his mouth. “Well? What’s happened?”

  “Bob talked to Captain Tolbert over at the fort yesterday. He’d gone to buy a beef off of them until we get our next few head to slaughter.

  “Captain Tolbert was wounded in a firefight with some Apache—at least, he thought that’s what they were.” She sat forward, her gaze holding Brendan’s. “Bren, Jax was wounded too.”

  He half-stood. “How bad?”

  Marney touched his hand. “Sit down and eat, marshal. You’ve got to do something while you hear this story, so take advantage of your time. Eat.”

  “Is Jax all right?”

  Marney hesitated a moment. “He took an arrow in his left shoulder. Captain Tolbert sent a contingent on into Amarillo with the stage. A couple of them split off and rode into Conway, thinking he might’ve stopped there instead of going on into Amarillo. They asked around once they got there, and found out, sure enough, that Jax was staying at the Pavilion Hotel. No need to worry,” Marney patted his arm. “Conway’s small, but they have a doctor there—”

  But Bren was already on his feet and with a muttered curse, headed for the door.

  “Brendan!”

  “Marney—I’ve gotta go.”

  She followed him outside. “Surely he’ll be all right—” she began, but he cut her off.

  “Jaxson’s as good as dead in Conway with that doctor. You—You don’t understand. I just hope I’m not too late.” He swung up into the saddle, kicking the big sorrel into a gallop.

  ****

  Dunstan Treadwell hated Fort Smith. It was so…backward. Compared to Washington, every place west of the Mississippi was lacking—in every way. They didn’t even have decent cigars in the mercantile here. The fact that they sold cigars from the mercantile provoked him. Why couldn’t these people understand, they needed a tobacco shop?

  He’d done some discreet inquiry and discovered that the marshal had made quite a name—and reputation—for himself right here in Fort Smith. He’d heard all about the beautiful Sarah Smith, whom the marshal was “protecting”, and the clumsy attempts Blocker had made at killing them.

  Treadwell clenched his fist and brought it down hard on the window sash of his cheap hotel room. That was another thing that angered him. When “Sarah Smith” had stayed here she’d stayed at the Gold Leaf Hotel, boasting a better room than he, Dunstan Treadwell, could afford in this town. He was running very low on funds. He needed to dispose of Callista as soon as he possibly could.

  And McCall? He’d see an end to him as well. He smiled to himself. Maybe he’d make it look as though they’d killed one another in a lover’s quarrel. He was excellent at the game of murder. A master at it, really.

  His pesky stepdaughter and the marshal were as good as dead already.

  ****

  “Well, well, well.” Wolf Blocker stood up slowly, his pistol held ready, as Bobby Lane and Shorty Reeves rode into camp with their prisoners. “Lookee what we got here. Miss Smith…we meet again.”

  Callie gave him a hate-filled glare as he stepped forward.

  A broad grin spread across Blocker’s blunt features, and Callie could smell him from where she sat, astride the horse, her hands tied to the pommel. After a long minute, Blocker turned his gaze to Jeremy Naylor.

  “And we have a surprise guest, huh, Bobby?
”

  Lane slid down from his horse, untying Callie’s hands. “Yeah,” he responded casually. “But we can kill him too, when we’re done.” He reached up and roughly jerked Callie down from the saddle, making sure his hands found her breasts as she regained her balance.

  She clawed at his face, leaving bright streaks of red running down his cheek.

  “Damn you!” he shouted. Reeves snickered as he watched Lane touch the bleeding flesh, then reach out and deliver a rough slap across Callie’s mouth. “Don’t you ever do that again, you little hellcat! I’ll beat you senseless!”

  Callie turned to look at him, her hair falling across her face from the slap he’d given her. Her hand went to her cheek, then her lips, but she didn’t drop her burning gaze from his wild blue stare.

  Finally, Lane turned away, motioning for Jeremy to dismount. He pulled his revolver as Jeremy swung down from the saddle, then turned his gaze to where Carlos sat, bound hand and foot, at the base of a towering cottonwood.

  “So, Mister Doctor,” Lane sneered, “guess you better have a look at the kid. He an’ Shorty tangled earlier.” A faint sarcastic smile touched his lips and he threw Reeves a quick look, raising his voice to be sure he heard. “Of course, that kid’s about the right size for Shorty—and about as much of a man as he can handle.”

  Reeves’ face contorted in anger, and he took a step toward Lane, his teeth bared. But Wolf Blocker laid a restraining hand on the little man’s shoulder. “Not in my camp, Reeves. You want to fight, do it away from here.” Lane’s smile widened as Reeves turned angrily and went to see to the horses.

  Jeremy knelt beside Carlos, looking him over quickly. Both of the boy’s eyes were swollen, his lips cracked and bleeding. Callie’s heart lurched as she sat down beside him. Carlos turned to look at her, and the expression in his eyes was so achingly familiar that Callie could have sworn she was looking into Jaxson McCall’s face at that particular moment. She gasped, and Jeremy gave her a sympathetic look, mistaking the reason for her surprise.

  “I know,” he murmured softly.

  Carlos sat still and uncomplaining, furthering Callie’s comparison to Jax, as Jeremy offered the boy a drink from a nearby canteen, then reached to tear a strip from his own shirt. He wet it, then began to gently wash Carlos’s face, speaking soothingly to him.

  Callie looked away for a moment, her thoughts tumbling. Was she losing her mind, she wondered? How could this be? Was Carlos related to Jax somehow? He almost certainly had to be.

  She returned her gaze to Carlos once more. There was no doubt. The boy had to either be Jaxson’s brother…or his son.

  ****

  Jax groaned as he moved. His shoulder was stiff and aching, and his stomach suddenly twisted in hunger. Must be getting better. He put his right hand to his head, massaging his temples. Where was everyone? “Callie?” he muttered hoarsely. She was gone, but her valise was still there. He reached for the enameled cup, grasping it unsteadily. He drank, his shoulder throbbing unmercifully at the slightest movement.

  He could tell there was no fever left, but he hadn’t expected the pain at his shoulder to be so unrelenting.

  He turned his head, and saw a piece of folded paper on the nightstand. His spine prickled in apprehension as he reached for it.

  Jax dropped the note to the floor. He lay numb and unmoving for a moment, knowing how excruciating it was going to be when he made the motion to sit up. His mind felt foggy, and his head still hurt, though not like it had last night.

  Damn it. What a mess. What a fucking mess. But where was Jem? He should’ve been here by now. Jax tried to lever himself up slowly from the bed. He finally managed to get into a sitting position, then put his feet solidly on the floor.

  He sat, his head between his hands, his shoulder burning as if on fire, accompanied by a harsh rhythmic throbbing each time his heart beat.

  Now, for the real trick. He put his hand on the nightstand, rising on unsteady legs, cursing his uncertainty; and wished he had forced himself to eat something more solid than broth the day before.

  The room looked out of proportion, and when he took a step, it seemed as if the floor rose up to meet him just a little too quickly. Somehow, though, he wove his way to the saddlebags resting in the corner, and searched for his clean clothing.

  Putting it on was a different matter. It seemed to take forever to work the buttons on his shirt, then on his jeans. Unbidden, the memory of Callie’s cool fingers unbuttoning his clothing sprang to his mind. For a moment, it was as if she stood before him, giving him that seductive smile.

  But she wasn’t really there. She was gone. Out there, God knew where—looking for Carlos, according to the note. And where the hell was Jeremy, anyway? He should be here by now. But, no matter. Jax had to go find Callie and the boy, wherever Jem was.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots on, grimacing at each one. Carefully, he crossed the room to the washbasin and bent over it, steeling himself for the abrupt coldness of the water. When he raised his eyes to the mirror, two burning sockets stared back at him, his face gaunt and pale beneath his normally dark complexion.

  How was he going to do this? He only knew he had to. There was no one else. He couldn’t leave Callie out there, or Carlos.

  Brendan hadn’t been much older than Carlos when their Quartz Mountain camp had been annihilated by the man who now held Carlos and Callie. Helpless rage rose up inside Jax, hot and strong. But there was something else, too. Something he dared not acknowledge. It was something so foreign to him, that at first, he didn’t recognize it. But he let himself turn and look at it fully, just once.

  Fear.

  It was so sharp and debilitating that he pushed it away immediately and refused to name it again, knowing the only thing able to defeat it was determination. And God knew, he had plenty of that.

  ****

  Brendan McCall thundered up to the Pavilion. He threw a quick loop in the reins and strode inside, heading straight for the back office where he knew Livvy Stiles would be, calling for her as he went.

  She met him at the kitchen doorway. “Brendan! How are you, sweetheart?” She reached out to hug him close to her rounded curves. He returned the hug quickly, then stepped back.

  “Where’s my brother?”

  Livvy patted his stubbled cheek. “C’mon, sugar. I’ll show you. He’ll be surprised to see you.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “Oh, sure. We’ve all kinda been keeping an eye out, and he had that cute little girl with him. I thought Abby was going to cry! She kinda liked him, you know, but oh, my, he is definitely taken with this girl he’s with—oh, listen to me, rattling,” Livvy laughed. They had reached the top of the stairs, Brendan anxiously walking beside her.

  “Here we are,” she said. “He’s here in room nine. Just knock, sweetie, and let him know it’s you, so you don’t get a hole blasted in you.”

  Brendan wasted no time, pounding on the door as Livvy turned to go.

  “Jax? You in there?” He pounded again. “Jax!”

  After a moment, the key scraped in the lock, and the door was thrown open suddenly. “Bren?” Jax asked in disbelief, his eyes narrowing to adjust to the light in the hallway.

  “My God,” Brendan breathed, reaching for Jax’s forearms as he swayed unsteadily. “Are you all right?”

  Jax couldn’t speak for a moment. “I missed you,” he said simply.

  Brendan’s eyes were suspiciously bright. He pulled Jax close to him, but carefully. “You okay?” he croaked again in a hoarse whisper.

  Jax nodded, his eyes closing briefly. Then he grinned, holding Brendan away from him. “Now I am.” He reached for Callie’s valise and his own saddlebags. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”

  Chapter 25

  Wolf Blocker had tied Jeremy’s hands tightly in front of him, but when he’d reached for Callie, she balked.

  “No, thank you, Mr. Blocker. Those bracelets don’t go with my dr
ess,” she smiled sweetly.

  He gave her a withering look, but she held his gaze stubbornly. Finally, he laughed grudgingly and put the piece of rope back into his dirty coat pocket.

  “All right, Missy. But if you try anything—anything at all—” he touched his pocket meaningfully.

  Callie sat down once more next to Carlos. He leaned against her almost immediately, his purpling eyes closing. Jeremy watched as Callie patted Carlos’s leg.

  “That’s right, Carlos. You rest,” the doctor murmured. “Rest while you can, boy.”

  Bobby Lane stumbled toward them, stopping in front of Callie. He gave her a mocking grin, holding a half-empty whiskey bottle in his hand. “That boy mean somethin’ to you?”

  ****

  Fear squeezed Callie’s chest, but she raised defiant eyes to him. “Can’t you leave him be? He’s just a child!” She tried to control the pleading note in her voice. She looked away from him, and his grin spread. Finally, he gave a caustic laugh.

  “Hell, no, Miss Callista Buchanan,” he mocked loudly. “We got big plans for that there boy. We have special things we like to do to young men like him.” He took a drink from the bottle, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Maybe your lover-boy told ya all about it.”

  “Like what?” Callie gently moved Carlos over to rest on Jeremy, as she came to her feet. “Tying them up and hanging them from a tree? Torturing them?” Her voice shook with anger, with the injustice of what these men had done in the past, what they planned to do to Carlos. “Yes, he told me!” she hissed. “You are a pack of wild animals! You—”

  But he cut her off as he clumsily pulled her toward him and jammed his whiskey-wet mouth over hers. She wanted to vomit. Instead, she bit his lower lip viciously, bringing instant blood as he flung her away with a roaring curse. Callie stumbled and fell to her knees beside Carlos.

  “You little bitch!” the outlaw ground out in a savage voice. “You wait’ll tonight.” He wiped the blood away again, then smiled. “You’re gonna be sorry you done that, Miss High an’ Mighty. I’m a-gonna plow you good, come dark.”