The pale light of dawn streamed in through the uncurtained window, awakening Slater. He sat up gingerly, his joints cracking and his muscles crying out in protest. He stood to look out the window, rolling his neck to get out the kinks. The street was quiet, as he expected it to be.
He stretched and yawned. What a night. He’d been right in thinking that he wouldn’t get much sleep. He had still been wriggling around in that chair, trying to get comfortable, at four o’clock this morning. He couldn’t have gotten more than two hours’ sleep, and it had left him feeling more like he’d been beaten than rested.
He glanced over at Victoria asleep in the bed. Her hair had come loose from the messy braid, and it lay in a dark cloud over the pillow. He knew it felt like silk to the touch. He imagined it spread across his bare chest, tangling in his chest hairs and caressing his nipples when she moved. Slater moistened his lips. His mouth was as parched as sand. There was no way he could make it through another day this way. He couldn’t be closed up in a hotel room with Victoria, with the bed looming between them and her dressed in clothes that revealed more than they concealed. Nor could he take her with him from saloon to saloon tonight, following Brody’s men, playing the role of her would-be lover so that they would fit in.
There were things that were more than duty could demand. Somehow he had to convince her to return to her hotel room and let him trail the three men by himself.
Victoria’s eyes opened, and a startled look crossed her face. She sat up, and the bed cover slipped down. She grabbed for it with both hands and held it primly to her. She blushed. “Good—good morning."
“Good morning.”
Slater looked sleepy and unkempt in his stocking feet, his shirttail handing out on one side and his hair messed up. Victoria thought he looked rather endearing. She pulled up her knees and rested her chin on them. She had to stop thinking about how appealing he was. There was nothing but business between them. There could be nothing else.
“I’m going out for a while. Get dressed. When I come back, we need to talk.”
“All right.” She was glad to be alone for a few minutes, so that she could pull herself together. It was too easy to let her defenses down first thing in the morning.
When Slater left, Victoria rose and dressed quickly. There was little she could do for her hair except wind it up and secure it with the hairpins she’d removed last night. It looked sloppy and unkempt, but she decided that, considering the way she was dressed, it didn’t really matter. When she had done all she could, she sat down on the side of the bed and waited for Slater to return.
He did so shortly, carrying with him a tray of coffee, two cups and a basket of sweet rolls. Victoria jumped up, beaming. “Oh, thank you. It smells delicious. I’m starving. I didn’t eat supper last night.”
“No doubt you were too busy acquiring a costume,” Slater returned dryly.
Victoria didn’t bother to dignify his remark with a reply. She simply dug into the rolls and coffee with gusto, licking the stickiness from her fingers with unself-conscious pleasure. Slater watched her pink tongue slide across the tips of her fingers, and again desire forked through him like lightning. He jumped up and strode to the window.
“Any sign of Brody’s men?”
Slater shook his head. “Nah. I doubt they’ll be up and around for hours yet.”
“Would you like to sleep in the bed while I keep watch?”
“I’ll be all right.” He didn’t add that he would get no sleep, even in the bed, as long as she was in the room. “Victoria…I want you to go back to your hotel.”
Her brows drew together, as Slater had known they would. He supposed it was a sign of how bad off he was that even that familiar recalcitrant expression made him want to kiss her. “Why?”
“Because you don’t belong here, that’s why!” Slater snapped. He clenched his fist and slammed it against his leg, then swung away with a gusty sigh. “Ah, hell, I said that wrong. I meant to be calm and reasonable; I had it all worked out what to say.”
“You mean how to trick me into leaving?”
“Not trick you. I just—it would be easier for me if you weren’t with me. I don’t need to pretend to be buying your favors in order to sit in a saloon and drink all night. Besides, there are saloons that no women, even a fallen one, enters. What would you do if Brody’s men went into one of them? Lurk around outside waiting for me to come out? And I can’t very well follow them during the day with you on my arm. We’d be conspicuous. It won’t work.”
Victoria knew that Slater was right. She would be more of a hindrance than a help to him. But she couldn’t bear the thought of going back to her hotel room and just sitting, waiting for her father to arrive and take over. Frankly, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing her father, either. He would be furious with her for taking off on her own with Slater, and they would be bound to have a huge argument.
She wanted to be here, in on the excitement of the chase. She wanted to participate. She wanted to be with Slater. “Couldn’t we take turns watching them during the day? How will you manage all by yourself?”
“I’ll do it. I’ve done it before.”
“I could bring you food.” Her eyes were huge blue pools of sadness. Slater’s heart twisted within him, and he wondered if he was really as mean as he felt at this moment. “I’d like to help! I need to be there when you find Amy.”
Slater came over and squatted down beside her. He took her hands in his. “What if I let you know when they leave town? You could go with me then.”
“Could I?” Victoria’s face brightened immediately.
“I don’t see why not.” In fact, there were lots of reasons she shouldn’t accompany him, but he ignored them. He had made the offer primarily to wipe out the unhappiness on Victoria’s face, but he had to admit that he wanted her along.
After all, when they were outdoors, without the enclosed intimacy of a hotel room, he wouldn’t feel such a sharp sexual yearning, he told himself. He hadn’t been torn with desire when they were on the trail together before. . .well, at least not all the time. “You’ll figure out a way to go, anyway. I might as well keep you with me, where I know what you’re doing.” He stood up. “In fact, you could help me. We’ll have to leave quickly. You could get together our horses and supplies while I stay with Brody’s men. Here, I’ll write down where my things are, and a note so they’ll release them to you.” He sat down, pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket, and began to scribble a note on it. “Then, when I see that they’re about to leave, I’ll send for you.”
“Yes, I can do that.” Victoria’s brow wrinkled. “But it will take so long for you to send for me and then for me to come back here. We’ll lose them. I have a better plan.”
“I should have known.”
“I’ll get all our things. Then I’ll check out of my hotel and come back here. We’ll stable the horses close by, so we can leave as soon as we need to.”
He gritted his teeth. Her plan made sense, but it meant they would spend another night together. “Victoria, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Consider what you’re doing. Spending the night in a sleazy hotel room with a man is even more damaging to your reputation than everything else you’ve done.”
“Slater, I’ve spent the night in the same bed with you. How can my reputation suffer any more than that?”
“What?” He stared, his word coming out as a croak.
“At the Miles’s house, when you were sick, and they thought we were married.”
“I was no danger to you then.”
“Are you now?”
His eyes darkened. “I wouldn’t take anything you wouldn’t willingly give.” He paused. “But after last night, I don’t think it would take much to persuade you.”
“Oh! Of all the conceit!” Victoria planted her hands on her hips. His words had hit home—she had melted like butter under his kisses, as though she had no will of her own; she had wanted him to take her, and it had been Slater who had stopped. But that knowledge only exacerbated her anger. “As if I couldn’t resist you. I let you kiss me because we were pretending to be, well, you know…”
“Then you’re one hell of an actress. Did you think that people could see you had your tongue in my mouth?”
Victoria’s eyes flamed. “No gentleman would have brought up this subject at all.”
“No lady would have been hanging around saloons dressed up like a tart.”
Victoria would have liked to make a crackling retort. The problem was that she was running out of things to say. Everything he brought up had too much truth in it. She had dressed up like a tart; she had kissed him back with fervor. She had felt the kind of lust decent women didn’t feel. Maybe she wasn’t a lady. But it stung to learn that was Slater’s opinion of her.
Victoria pressed her lips together. She smoothed down the skirt of her too-clinging dress. “Since I have no desire to compromise your virtue, I suggest that I rent a room of my own in this establishment. That should save both of us embarrassment, as well as time. Is that acceptable to you?”
Her face was stamped with hurt. Slater felt lower than a snake’s belly. She started toward the door, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Victoria, wait. Don’t be angry. I’m sorry for what I said. I had no right.”
“Everyone has a right to his opinion.”
“That’s not what I think of you. You’re a lady. You travelling with me, sleeping in this room, kissing me—none of it tarnishes my opinion of you.”
“Because it couldn’t be blacker than it already is?”
“No. Because I think you’re a hell of a woman and a hell of a lady, even though you’re also the most obstinate, bullheaded one I’ve ever met.”
“Such high praise.” Victoria couldn’t stop a smile from quirking the corners of her mouth.
“I was angry at myself. I’m afraid I’ll lose control if I have to spend another night with you. I couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking about you sleeping over there. Every time I looked at you in that dress, I wanted to hold you and touch you and kiss you. I loved your kiss. I loved your tongue in my mouth. I’d like to feel it right now.” He bent and pressed his lips lightly against hers, then returned for another, longer kiss. “You have a beautiful mouth. Perfect.” He groaned softly and rested his forehead against hers. “Please, Victoria, I’m no saint. Watching you sleep drove me crazy. I can’t do it again.”
Victoria swallowed. She was trembling all over from his words. He was right. They shouldn’t spend the night in the same room. “I’ll get another room, as I said.”
“This hotel isn’t a fitting place for you. The doors don’t even lock.”
“I’ll get the room next door, so you can come to my rescue if I scream,” she said lightly. “Now, don’t try to persuade me otherwise.” She stepped back and smiled. “I have lots of things to do this morning, and you need to get back to watching for Brody’s men.”
She smiled and walked out the door. Slater ran his tongue across his lips, tasting her on them. He went to the window and watched her walk across the street and out of sight. He’d never known another woman like Victoria Stafford. And, damn, but he wanted her.
Victoria did her errands with her usual efficiency. She returned to Gemma’s house to exchange the clothes she wore for her own riding skirt, blouse and boots, then brought their horses and supplies to a livery stable just a block away from Slater’s hotel. Last, she went to her own hotel, where the clerk handed her a telegram from her father.
“Setting up second search party here. Stop. Sending Bert to take you home. Stop. Mrs. Childers with him. Stop.”
Victoria hated to disobey her father, but going back to the ranch to wait and worry was the last thing she intended to do. Especially not with her chaperone along to fuss at her the whole way. Her father would understand when she explained the circumstances to him. If not, she’d simply have to endure his scolding. Retrieving her things from the room, she paid her bill, ignoring the clerk’s disapproving gaze, and left.
It was far easier to acquire a room at the inelegant hotel where she and Slater had spent the previous night. The clerk asked no questions, though he did direct a puzzled look at her attire. An extra dollar slipped to him got her the room next to Slater’s, again without questions.
The rest of her day passed in a thoroughly boring manner. She spent most of her time looking out the window, and she saw Brody’s men leave and Slater follow them. She chafed at having to stay in her room, but she knew that Slater was right. It would be better for both of them if he went by himself. She sat up for a long time, hoping that she would get a full account when Slater came back. But by twelve o’clock she gave up listening for his return and went to bed.
She knew nothing until Slater knocked on her door the following morning and brought in a bag of rolls for breakfast. They ate companionably while he recounted following the men the night before from saloon to saloon, sampling the beer in each place.
“If they don’t leave town soon,” he said wryly, “my stomach and my head will both rebel.”
Victoria smiled. He didn’t look the worse for wear to her. “Is that all you accomplished?”
“No. I heard bits of their conversation. They’ve been asking around town about a man named Vance. He’s the one who gave me the information about the Santa Clara bank robbery. Brody doubtless has revenge on his mind.”
“You think he’s going to hurt him?” Victoria’s eyes widened. “Kill him?”
“Brody can’t afford a breach of loyalty. He’d think he had to make an example of the man. Besides, he despises him. I saw the look he gave Vance when I arrested him.”
Slater stayed with her the rest of the morning, and they talked and took turns keeping watch on the entrance. It was almost noon when Victoria saw Brody’s cohorts leave to hotel. “Slater, they’re on their way out. They’re carrying their saddles. And they’re wearing spurs.”
He jumped up and came over to the window. “Looks like they’re about to take a ride.” He turned to her. “Shall we go?”
The gang’s horses were housed in the same stable as Slater’s and Victoria’s. Slater, pulling his hat low on his head, went in to saddle their horses, not glancing in the other men’s direction. Victoria loitered outside to see which way Brody’s men rode off. When Slater emerged with their mounts and supplies, they swung up into their saddles and started after the gang, keeping a safe distance behind them, mingling with the other horses and carriages as they made their way through town. Neither Victoria nor Slater looked back, so they didn’t see that, some distance behind them, Cam McBride was also riding out.
They rode north out of Austin on the road to Round Rock. There were other riders on the road now and then, but not the sort of traffic that there had been in Austin, so Slater and Victoria fell farther back, barely keeping the three men in sight. Before they reached Round Rock, the gang turned west, and Slater pulled up. “Let’s let them get farther ahead. I don’t want them to look back and see us, and this road isn’t well traveled. I can follow their tracks easy enough.”
They rested beneath a live oak, letting their horses graze and drink from a stream, then mounted up again. As he had said, Slater had little trouble following their trail. Even after the men left the road and began to follow a river, the trail of three horses was easy to spot.
Excitement began to build in Slater. “I always thought his hideout must be out here. The hills make a good place to hide. I’ve followed him to the Pedernales plenty of times, but then he always seems to disappear. He’s clever, but this crew isn’t. They’re not bothering to cover their trail at all. I think they’re going to lead us right to him.”
Once Slater stopped and scrambled up the side of one of the bluffs to get a bird’s eye view of the landscape. He came back down, dirt and gravel sliding beneath his boots. “They’re up ahead. We’d be clearly in their view coming down the hill, so we need to let them get past that curve in the river.”
After a few minutes, they went down the long gradual slope of the hill and onto the flats beside the river. Ahead of them, the sun was sinking behind the hills, creating long shadows. Dusk fell fast here in the Hill Country. When they reached a sheltered cove, Slater pulled to a stop. “We’ll camp here.”
“Already?” Victoria asked.
He shot her an amused glance. “Yeah. You’re about to fall out of your saddle. How much sleep have you had the past few nights?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “But I can ride.”
“I know. You’re a woman of iron,” he said sardonically. “I, on the other hand, am much more fragile.” Victoria rolled her eyes and dismounted as Slater went on, “I imagine they’ll stop to camp, too, before long, and we don’t want to accidentally run up on them.”
It made sense, and Victoria gave in without quibbling. Taking care of their horses, they ate their cold dinner and soon rolled up in their blankets to sleep. Slater found that he had been mistaken to think that it would be easier to sleep close to Victoria out in the open than in the hotel room. There was some relief in knowing that she was fully clothed, and at least there was no bed, with all its sensual implications. But he still wanted her. He could see her face in the wash of moonlight, and he could remember in great detail how she had looked in that bed, her bare white shoulders peeking out above the cover and her hair a shining black waterfall over the pillow. She was only a few feet away from him. It required as much willpower as he possessed not to cross that small distance and take her in his arms. It shook him to realize exactly how much he wanted her, no matter what the circumstances.
***
Sam and Amy rode away from the falls, twisting down and around, and, after a couple of hours, not far from a little wet-weather creek, he pulled to a stop at the foot of a bluff. When he dismounted, Amy followed suit, wondering what he was doing. It didn’t seem a very prepossessing place to camp or even to rest, several yards away from the shaded stream.
Sam went around a wide flat rock almost as tall as Amy. There was a narrow sort of alleyway between the rock and the bluff’s base, ending at a scrubby mesquite tree. Brody reached out and swept aside the feathery branches of the mesquite, revealing a dark slit in the side of the hill.
She glanced at Sam uncertainly, and he smiled, holding out his hand. “It’s all right. It’s bigger than it looks.”
Taking his hand, she followed him. The passageway was wider than it first appeared, but the utter blackness in front of her made her stomach dance. Brody stopped just inside the opening and reached down, to pull out a lantern from a niche in the rock. He lit it and held it up, casting an eerie flickering light over the pale rock walls around them.
“It’s a cave?” Amy looked around the rounded area. Shadowed entrances stretched off in three directions.
“Yeah, I found it years ago. There are a lot of different offshoots. If you don’t know where you’re going, you can get lost. Some of them are dangerous. But not this one. Just stay with me.”
“You stay inside here?” Amy’s voice quivered a little.
Brody smiled at her and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “No. Don’t worry. We don’t stay in the cave. It’s a passage. There’s an arroyo at the other end of one of the passages. It’s about as hidden as you can get. Come on, I’ll take you through, then I’ll come back and get the horses.”
“They come through, too?” she asked in surprise.
He nodded. “They get a little skittish, but ours have been through enough times, they manage it pretty well.”
Still holding her hand, Sam led her through the cave into a tunnel-like passageway. They walked for some distance. Once they skirted a pile of rocks, which Brody explained he had dug out long ago when he was first exploring the cave. “That was when I found out this tunnel went on to the outside. Sometime, if you want, I’ll take you into the main cavern. There’re three passages that go down from it. I’ve never gone down one of them. It’s a sheer drop-off. One of them goes down gradually enough that you can climb down it. And the third we went part way down on a rope. There are strange-looking rocks in the caverns below ground. There are pools of water, and columns that look wet, like melting ice. They hang from the roof or come up from the floor. Some of them are bigger around than my arm.”
“I’d like to see it,” Amy answered, “as long as you’re with me. Then I wouldn’t be frightened.”
They had been going at a more or less downward tilt most of the time they had been walking, but now they began to go up again. They crossed a narrow stream of icy water. Finally, ahead in the distance, Amy could see light. It became stronger as they drew nearer, so bright that it dazzled her eyes, accustomed now to the darkness. At last they went through a jagged crack in the rock and emerged in a very narrow valley.
Steep limestone cliffs rose on either side. Now, at midday it was flooded with light, but by late afternoon, much of the place would be in shadow. Mesquite, scraggly cedar, and slender post oaks provided shade, and cactus and low bushes dotted the floor and the walls of the arroyo. Two ramshackle huts stood against one rock wall, built of narrow, twisted mesquite branches lashed together. There was a circle of rocks in front of the huts, where it was obvious that fires had been built many times.
Brody glanced around as Amy did, looking at the valley with fresh eyes for the first time in years. He had grown accustomed to it long ago and valued it as a place of refuge. But now he saw it as Amy must, and he noticed how narrow it was, and how often it lay in shadow. For the first time, the close, high walls made him think of prison rather than protection.
The stream provided water, and they always had enough provisions stored to see them through several weeks. The horses could survive on the bushes and thin grass, and the huts provided shelter from the elements. But suddenly it seemed a meager existence. Brody had built a bed in one of the shacks, but its mattress was made of sacks stuffed with grasses and leaves, and they lay across a webbing of rope. In the dead of winter, the cold crept through the cracks in the shack’s walls so fiercely that they often spent the nights in the relative warmth of the caves. In the summer, it could be stifling.
Sam had never thought about its comfort or lack of it. It had just been a place to run to. A place where he couldn’t be found. The gang traveled much of the time, and they were often in San Antonio or Austin or some other town, spending their money, or doing another job. But obviously he couldn’t drag Amy with him from town to town like that, and he had expected that she would stay here at the hideout, waiting for him.
But now he saw that it was hardly a place for her to live. Even at the best of times, it was not the sort of home a lady like Amy was used to living in. There were no comforts, none of the little things that made life pleasant. Any sodbuster’s wife in her shanty lived a better existence than Amy would here.
Sam glanced at Amy. She smiled and slid her arm around him. As always, he responded to her touch, warming with love. “Shall we look around?” she asked. “I’d like to see all of it.”
“We will.” No doubt she would see more of it than she wanted as the days went by. She wouldn’t complain; he knew Amy. She would make the best of it, as she made the best of every bad situation, from sleeping outdoors to being kidnapped. But how could she be happy here for long?
He thought about leaving her here alone when he and his men went out to do a job. She could get sick, or a wild animal might come along. What if he got captured again, or shot, and couldn’t come back to her? What would she do, stranded here all by herself? But it would be even worse to take her with him. He hated the thought of exposing Amy to violence and crime.
Brody realized suddenly how impossible the situation was. Lost in his haze of pleasure, he had pushed away any thought of the future. He’d been living in a dream world. But coming to the hideout had thrust him rudely into reality.
He wished he and Amy were still back at the falls. He wished they were almost anywhere but here. He thought of the small strongbox of gold buried beneath one of the skinny post oak trees, and he wondered if he could take it and run far enough away that the law wouldn’t be after him. He wondered if it was possible for a man like him to start a new life. It didn’t seem likely. But, then, when he looked at Amy’s sweet face, it seemed as if anything might be possible.
Brody led their mounts through the cave and unsaddled them, turning them free to graze. Then he spent the afternoon with Amy, talking and teasing and aimlessly walking along the narrow stream. They gazed at each other and reached out to caress each other with the same kind of disbelieving wonder that they always felt. Sometimes the touches were sensual, but more often not. It was with awe and with love that they reached out, as though to reassure themselves that the sweetness they had found really existed.
Amy was delighted at the sight of the cabin’s real bed, however primitive it might be, and, laughing, she drew Sam down upon it to test its softness. They made love on the crackling mattress, smiling and laughing as much as they panted and writhed. It was often sweet and gentle like this for them, though at other times their lovemaking was like a fast-rising storm.
Brody tried to put the idea of leaving the valley out of his mind, telling himself that there was plenty of time to decide that later. But all afternoon the canyon seemed to grow more and more oppressive. And he thought more about what he would do if they left it. This had been his way of life for years; he didn’t know how else he would live. The gold would get them through for a while, maybe buy them a piece of land. But it wouldn’t last forever. He would need to build a home and a life for Amy. They might have children. The thought was astounding, overwhelming. It scared him, yet at the same time he ached inside to see it come true.
He knew horses. Perhaps he could do what Raul had done. T. J. Moore had taught him a lot about running cattle those few years when he hadn’t lived as an outlaw. Maybe he could make a living like other men. Maybe he could be a husband. A father.
Once he would have missed the danger and the excitement if he stopped robbing. But not any longer. Amy filled all the empty spaces of his life. He had no need for the things that had driven him in the past. The idea of running away with Amy lured him like a siren’s song.
Just after dark, Brody heard the sound of horses; hooves striking stone. He grabbed his rifle from where it stood propped against the wall of the hut, and he drew Amy back into the brush, away from the fire, raising the rifle. A light glowed from the entrance to the cave, growing brighter and brighter until finally a man stepped out of the entrance, holding a lantern aloft.