Chapter Ten

Sam rode slowly, listening to the night sounds, alert for any signal he was not alone. His horse’s ears pricked, sensing something Sam had missed, and he stopped, waiting.

Up ahead a horse snuffled. “Connors?” someone said.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Come on.”

Sam directed his mount toward the voice. Suddenly, a match flared and a man’s face appeared. The match touched the end of a cigarette, then passed to illuminate another face and light a second cigarette.

“You boys look like you’ve seen hard times since we last met,” Sam said, grinning.

The man called Skeeter shook the match, plunging them into darkness again.

“We thank you kindly,” Bones said, amusement thick in his voice. “We worked right hard on these outfits. Had to roll a couple of bums.”

“Where’d you get the wagon I’ve heard so much about?”

“Some farmer was about to bust it up for firewood.”

“You should’ve let him.”

“Now, Sam, don’t make fun.”

One of the animals made an odd noise. “Oh, God, don’t tell me one of you is riding the mule.”

Skeeter chuckled. “He’s a good-natured son of a bitch.”

“I’ll just bet.” The silence stretched for a few moments, and at last Sam drew a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his companion’s cigarettes. “I wasn’t sure you’d get my letter. It’s good to see you boys again. It’s been too long.”

“That it has,” Bones agreed. “We’re glad you sent for us.”

“With everybody else hiring guns, I didn’t have much choice.”

“No, you didn’t, and I don’t guess we’ve got any excuse not to start work now, do we?”

“No, I reckon either the Taggerts are back or somebody new is on the job.”

“Any idea who it might be?”

“Pettigrew thinks you two might be the ones.”

“Which means he don’t have any idea.”

“That’s what I figure,” Sam said, reaching for his own tobacco. “Although he did tell me something real interesting. Seems he hired the Taggerts after Nylan fired them. He told them to cut my fence again so I’d be mad enough to help Pettigrew.”

Skeeter whistled his amazement. “Pettigrew’s a damn fool, ain’t he? How did he come to tell you?”

“I reckon he’s scared, thinking they’ve come back. See, when he tried to pay them off, they decided they still wanted to work for him. They threatened to cut his fences if he didn’t keep paying.”

“I reckon those two aren’t as stupid as we thought,” Bones said.

“They was smart enough to lay low when things got hot,” Skeeter observed.

“But now they’re back with a vengeance.” Bones took a draw on his cigarette and the tip glowed orange in the shadows. “We’ll heat things up again, see if we can’t catch ’em in the act.”

“Just be careful,” Sam warned. “A couple people are already suspicious.”

“You mean Pettigrew?”

“He was just grabbing at straws, hoping it was somebody besides the Taggerts, but the schoolteacher warned me about you the other day.”

Bones laughed aloud. “Miss Eaton? What’d she say?”

Fighting an irrational surge of jealousy, Sam said, “How’d you know her name?”

“Shallcross introduced her to us when we first hit town,” Skeeter said. “What’d she say?”

“She said your teeth are too good,” Sam told him sourly.

“She likes my teeth?” Skeeter said in delight.

“I didn’t say she likes them. I said she thinks they’re too good. She noticed a lot of little things about you that didn’t add up.” Sam couldn’t bring himself to say Catherine thought they were handsome. The knowledge burned in his throat, though, and made his next words slightly hoarse. “She thinks you’re in disguise, and she’s got you figured for hired guns.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Bones exclaimed. “A pretty woman who’s smart, too.”

“Don’t get any ideas about her,” Sam said sharply. “She’s a lady.”

“Never doubted it. Seems like she’s spoken for, too, wouldn’t you say, Skeeter?”

“Seems like,” Skeeter agreed.

“Just don’t forget it,” Sam said.

“If we do, I reckon I know who’ll remind us.” The two men chuckled knowingly, and something twisted painfully in Sam’s chest. He only wished he could openly lay claim to Catherine, and he wondered what she would say if she could hear him defending her to these two ragged drifters.

“Like I said, keep your heads down. No telling who else has noticed you’re not as dumb and worthless as you pretend to be. What have you got planned?”

“Sure you want to know? You’ll have to act surprised when the time comes.”

Sam considered for a moment. “Tell me.”

When they did, Sam swore in admiration. “I knew you two would stir up the soup, but I didn’t figure you’d cause a twister.”

“You want this stopped, don’t you?” Bones asked.

“Yeah, and I figure this is probably the only way.”

The men talked for a few minutes, decided on the time and place of their next meeting, and bade each other farewell. As Sam rode away, Bones called, “Give that pretty little schoolteacher a kiss for us, eh?”

Sam laughed perfunctorily. “I’ll do that.”

And one day, he promised himself, he really would give Cat a kiss for Bones.

Catherine had decided she’d probably never sleep soundly again. Lately, the slightest noise woke her. She knew it was only nerves, nerves and the fear that Sam Connors would try to force his way back into her life. The mere thought made her tremble, although she could not have said if the tremor came from fear or longing. As much as she detested him while she was awake, he haunted her dreams, coming to her with kisses and caresses until she woke again, aching with the needs he had stirred in her.

Tonight the dreams had been particularly bad. Ever since David had made the remark about Sam wanting to force her to fall in love with him, her mind had been in constant turmoil. She hadn’t had the courage to raise the subject again or to ask David what he had meant. Perhaps she had simply misunderstood him. She only wished her heart didn’t flutter every time she considered the possibility he had been telling the absolute truth.

But Sam Connors didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Why would he care whether she loved him or not? He’d gotten what he wanted from her, after all. Unless...

She could hardly bear the thought, but common sense warned her it was probably the truth: If Sam knew she were in love with him, he’d have a power over her. Would she be able to resist that power?

Before she could decide, a loud boom sent her bolt upright in the bed. The building shook, and the lamp beside her bed clattered.

“What in the world?... ” she wondered aloud, scrambling out of bed and snatching up her robe.

By the time she got outside, she could hear the faint sounds of the townsfolk stirring in reaction. She waited, listening for something else, something to explain the strange explosion, but in the distance all she heard was silence.

Soon Mathias Shallcross’s voice called to her. “Catherine, are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. What was it?”

He came hurrying toward her out of the night shadows, wearing a nightshirt hastily stuffed into pants. “Sounded like some kind of explosion. Shook the whole house.”

“It shook the school, too. Where do you suppose it was?”

“Someplace nearby, although I don’t see any fire. Are you sure you’re all right? First thing Twila says to me is, ‘Go see if Catherine is all right.’ ”

“I’d feel a lot better if I knew what had exploded and why.” She stared blindly off into the distance again, hoping to see some sort of sign.

The sounds of activity from the town grew louder. “I reckon some of the men are going out to see what they can find. I should probably go with them. Why don’t you come over to our house and keep Twila company?”

Grateful for the excuse to escape the lonely confines of her room, Catherine went inside and gathered some clothes to take with her.

By the time they reached the Shallcrosses’ house, men and horses were milling in the street. “Wait for me, boys. I’ll be out as soon as I get my gun.”

Twila stood on the porch, wringing her hands. “I was so worried about you, dear,” she said as Catherine came up the steps.

“I’m fine, just a little shocked, like everyone else.”

“What a strange thing,” Twila murmured, staring off into the night as Catherine had done, as if she could see through the darkness to the explanation.

They waited on the porch until Mathias reappeared, fully clothed and armed. “Be careful, darling,” Twila urged. Mathias patted her shoulder and then hurried away to join the others.

“They’ll never be able to find anything in the dark,” Twila murmured.

“I don’t suppose they could just sit here waiting for morning, either, though,” Catherine replied, thinking how very much she wanted to go along with them. All she could think about was Sam out there somewhere. Had he been looking for the Taggerts tonight, or was he at home, asleep? Had he simply heard the explosion, too, or had he been closer? She shivered with dread.

“You’re cold,” Twila observed. “Let’s go inside. I’ll make some hot cocoa to keep us occupied while we wait.”

Catherine picked up the bundle of clothes Mathias had carried over for her and followed Twila inside.

Dawn was painting pink streaks in the sky when Sam heard the gunshots. Three in a row and then silence. Someone had found the source of the strange disturbances. He and the men with him turned their horses in the direction of the shots.

By the time they arrived at the scene of the explosion, a large crowd had already gathered. Sam slowed his horse to a walk and approached cautiously, taking in the sight of the crater and struggling against the delighted smile twitching on his lips. By the time he had dismounted and walked over to the edge of the newly turned earth, he had control of his expression again and managed to sound thoroughly outraged when he asked, “What in the hell happened here?”

Several men started to explain at once, and when they fell silent, Mathias Shallcross said, “Looks like dynamite, wouldn’t you say?”

Sam studied the gaping hole where a section of Amos Pettigrew’s barbed wire fence had once stood, and he nodded. “Seems kind of strange somebody’d blow a hole when he could’ve just cut one, though.”

Amos Pettigrew made a disgusted sound. “That’s what I been saying.” He paced up and down, glaring at the hole, his face an alarming shade of purple.

“We figure it was a booby trap...” Mathias explained. “Didn’t you see those contraptions hanging on the fences?”

“No, what contraptions?”

Mathias motioned for Sam to follow him, and they walked down the length of fence where it picked up at the edge of the hole. Sam spotted the odd-looking device immediately. Hanging from a strand of barbed wire several hundred feet away, it swung lazily in the wind.

“Don’t get too close,” Mathias warned when they had come within twenty feet.

“What is it?”

“Dynamite,” Mathias explained unnecessarily. The sticks were plainly visible, bound together with wire and several pieces of wood.

“But dynamite won’t explode unless it’s lit,” Sam pointed out.

“We figure they’ve got it rigged some other way, some way none of us knows about. We’ve seen these things all over the place today, hanging on everybody’s fences. Nobody knows who put them there, or at least nobody’s saying if they do.”

“What’re they for?”

“Probably to keep the fence cutters away,” Mathias explained patiently. “Don’t you see? Nobody’s gonna go tromping around in the dark cutting fences with these things hanging everywhere. If one of ’em was to go off in your face...” Mathias shook his head ominously.

Sam managed to hold his solemn expression in place. “What do you think set that one off?” he asked, gesturing toward the scene of the disaster.

“I hope it was a jackrabbit. If it was a man, there wasn’t enough left of him to find.”

Sam ran a hand over his beard stubble to hide his twitching lips. He could easily imagine Skeeter and Bones laughing uproariously as they lit the fuse last night, knowing full well the speculation and consternation their audacity would cause.

News of the booby traps reached town within a matter of hours. A weary Mathias told the tale to Twila and Catherine, who listened incredulously.

“Are you sure nobody was hurt in the explosion?” Twila asked when he had finished.

“Nobody we could find. We think it went off by accident.”

“Or maybe whoever put those things out set one off just to get everyone’s attention,” Catherine suggested.

“That’s what Sam thought, too,” Mathias said, leaning back in his chair. The three of them were sitting around the table in the Shallcrosses’ kitchen. Uncertainty over the source of the explosion had kept all the children at home, so Catherine had spent the morning with Twila. “At least, that’s what we hope. Sam doesn’t think those things’ll blow up from just touching them, but nobody’s willing to try out his theory.”

“I should hope not,” Twila said, rising to get the coffee pot from the stove. She refilled Mathias’s cup and offered Catherine some more.

Catherine shook her head. “Does anyone know who is responsible?”

“Some folks think it was the Taggerts, but I doubt they’re smart enough to come up with an idea like this. Besides, we figure whoever put these things out was trying to stop the fence cutting.”

“Where would they have gotten so much dynamite?”

Mathias shrugged. “We haven’t sold any in awhile at the store. It must’ve come in from outside.”

“Maybe those two new men brought it,” Catherine said, looking from Mathias to Twila and back again.

“Skeeter and Bones?” Mathias scoffed.

“They did have a wagon,” Twila reminded him. “Seems like it was loaded down, too. They could have brought it in.”

“So could anyone else who owns a wagon,” Mathias pointed out. “I doubt those two would know what to do with dynamite.”

“Maybe they’re working for someone else,” Catherine said, “someone who does know what to do.”

“It’s possible,” Mathias said. “I never thought of that.”

“Maybe you ought to go out and have a talk with those two fellows,” Twila suggested.

“Maybe I should,” Mathias muttered, “but not today. I need a little sleep before I do any more investigating.” He rose and stretched, yawning hugely.

“I suppose I should be running along,” Catherine said, rising also. She thanked Twila for her hospitality and took her leave.

On the way home, Catherine allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. At last she’d managed to convince someone those two strangers might be dangerous. At the thought, her smile vanished. She only hoped Mathias was careful when he approached them.

Catherine need not have worried. Mathias delayed his trip to the Shultzes’ farm until Friday, when he carried Catherine out for the weekend. The two Shultz children, Inge and Gretchen, squeezed between them on the buggy seat, giggling at the treat of riding with their adored Miss Eaton. Their antics kept Catherine’s mind off the confrontation ahead.

The Shultz farm was a prosperous-looking place, with a comfortable house and well-kept outbuildings. Mrs. Shultz greeted Catherine warmly. Most of the young matrons whom Catherine had met were either pregnant or nursing, and Heide Shultz’s plump figure gave every indication there would soon be yet another Shultz baby. Her husband, as blond and blue-eyed as the females in his family, might have been her brother, so similar were they in appearance. Equally as plump as his expectant wife, Walter Shultz stood only an inch or two taller than she.

As soon as she arrived, Catherine had to meet the remaining Shultz sister, the one too young for school, so she missed Mathias’s conversation with Mr. Shultz. The two men disappeared for almost an hour, during which time Catherine gave only half her attention to the children and their mother while she worried over what was happening with Mathias.

At last he returned, and to her relief, he was smiling. He drew her aside, ostensibly to bid her good-bye, and he whispered, “You don’t have to worry about those two fellows. They’re straight.”

Before she could ask exactly what straight meant, Mathias was gone, calling his farewells to the Shultz family.

What on earth had he meant? Had he learned something new about them, or had they managed to fool him once again? Unfortunately, she had no opportunity to ask.

She hoped to get some feel for what Mathias had learned when she saw the two hired men at supper. When they did not join the family, Mr. Shultz explained they had already left for town to celebrate the extra day off he had given them in honor of her visit. Disappointed, Catherine allowed the Shultz children to distract her from her concerns.

The next morning Catherine and the family piled into the wagon for their weekly shopping trip. Actual purchases might be no more than a sack of coffee or candy sticks for the children. The main purpose of the trip was to see and be seen. Mr. Shultz turned the females loose at the mercantile and went off in search of his own friends. Catherine and Heide visited with the ladies gathered around a new display of dress goods and the children found their peers for a run in the alley.

“Have you heard what happened last night?” Opal Redfern asked. “Three of Sam Connors’s calves were killed.”

“Killed? How?” Nadine Tate asked as Catherine felt the familiar pangs of apprehension.

“Somebody cut their throats. Bull calves they was, too. Sam’s men was guarding ’em special since he lost Sir Herald. Luckily, one of his men heard the ruckus before they got all of them. He’s got two or three left, but this’ll hurt him bad.”

“I don’t suppose they caught the men doing it,” Catherine said.

Opal shook her head. “Sam is fit to be tied. Everybody thought those dynamite booby traps would scare the Taggerts off. They aren’t cutting fences anymore, but they’re still bound and determined to get even with poor Sam.”

“Poor Sam?” Sam Connors’s voice mocked. Catherine jumped and her heart lodged in her throat. Slowly, she turned to face him, bracing herself for the impact he always had on her emotions. This time it was worse than usual because he was smiling, a cocky half smile that made him look like David. Catherine could barely breathe.

“You know what I meant,” Opal defended herself. “It’s a sin the things those devils have done to you.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but don’t mark me down as the loser yet. This thing isn’t over.”

No one had ever looked less like a loser, Catherine thought, staring up at his imposing height. Relaxed and grinning, he seemed capable of overcoming any obstacle.

With studied nonchalance, he swung his dark gaze down to her, and her breath stopped completely. “Good morning, Miss Eaton,” he said softly.

Every nerve in her body sprang to attention. “Good morning,” she replied through a constricted throat.

One of the other women coughed discreetly. “I guess I’ve got errands to run.”

“So do I,” someone else said. Catherine didn’t bother to sort out the voices. In another moment, she and Heide Shultz were the only two women left standing with Sam.

“Miz Shultz, would you mind if I came by this evening and paid a call on Miss Eaton?”

“A call?” Heide echoed, sharing a conspiratorial smile with him. Catherine heard the words only faintly over the roaring in her ears. What was he up to now? “I’m sure we’d be glad to have you for supper, too. But why tonight? Aren’t you going to call after church tomorrow?”

Sam’s grin broadened. “Sundays with Miss Eaton are getting awful crowded. I thought I’d try to do my courting a little more privately if I could.”

Courting! What in heaven’s name was he talking about? What in heaven’s name was he thinking!

“Sounds fine to me. I’m even willing to feed you supper, but maybe you’d better ask Miss Eaton first,” Heide said slyly, then strolled casually away.

Sam’s dark gaze touched Catherine again, and her chest tightened as if a steel band were squeezing it.

“What does Miss Eaton think about the idea?” he asked.

“I think you have a lot of gall!” she whispered furiously. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

Something flickered in his eyes, something remarkably like pain. His jaw clenched with a determination she recognized. “Cat, I’m sorry for what I said the other day.” Catherine gaped at him. “I’m not really the rotten son of a bitch you think I am,” he continued doggedly. “Will you give me a chance to prove it?”

This was a dream, she knew it was. Sam Connors couldn’t possibly be standing in the Shallcrosses’ mercantile, apologizing and asking permission to court her.

Because this wasn’t really happening and her answer wouldn’t make any difference, she nodded.

His broad shoulders sagged for just an instant, as if in relief. “I’ll see you tonight then,” he said, and smiled.

His smile stopped the few vital functions her body was still managing to perform. His black eyes glittered, promising sweet, tender things that she knew Sam Connors did not feel, could not feel. He only wanted her body, didn’t he?

But if he did, why hadn’t he come to the school all week? And why was he making such a production out of wanting to see her in a well-chaperoned situation?

When she didn’t respond, his smile faded just a bit, but he reached out and touched her arm, giving it a little squeeze. “Tonight,” he said, tipped his hat, and walked away.

Sam showed up early for supper, freshly shaved and barbered and sporting what appeared to be a new shirt and string tie. He brought candy, too, but it turned out to be licorice whips for the children.

To Catherine’s surprise, the girls took to him immediately, although he was a virtual stranger to them. While Catherine watched through the window, he allowed them to pester him into pushing them on their swing and giving them piggyback rides.

Over supper he was the model guest, complimenting the food and making polite conversation. Catherine watched him closely, trying to make some sense of all this, but his carefully neutral expression revealed nothing.

After the meal, the men went outside to smoke while the women cleaned up. At last Catherine had no further excuse for avoiding him, and she accompanied Heide out to the front porch.

The setting sun cast long shadows in the yard, and the scent of tobacco was heavy in the air. Walter Shultz sat on the porch swing and Sam sat on the steps. He rose when the women came out. Heide took the vacant seat beside her husband on the swing, and Catherine stood uncertainly, knowing she couldn’t sit on the step beside Sam and somehow not wanting to take one of the chairs that would place her far from him, either.

“Maybe you’d like to walk off some of your supper, Miss Eaton,” he said after a long moment of awkward silence.

Common sense told her she was a fool to go off alone with him, but she was also dying to know exactly what his purpose had been in coming here tonight. What better opportunity would she have? They needn’t go far from the house, and surely Sam wouldn’t try anything untoward with help so near at hand. Of course, he might be thinking she wouldn’t resist, but if so, he would be surprised.

“All right,” she said. He held out his hand to help her down the steps, but she ignored it. He fell in beside her as they started aimlessly across the yard.

Almost immediately, Catherine realized she had made a mistake. Although she knew she detested this man, his physical presence still had a profound effect on her. Her body was vitally aware of his, of the careful way he avoided even brushing her arm when all her nerves were screaming for his touch.

“That was a terrible thing they did to your calves,” she said to fill the vibrating silence. The subject had come up at supper, but Sam had quickly dismissed it.

“Oh, please,” he said just as quickly. “If you say poor Sam, I just might break down and cry.”

“Well, it was a terrible thing,” she insisted. “Didn’t anybody put dynamite on your fences?”

“Not enough to scare the Taggerts, I reckon. But maybe they’re the ones put it out in the first place, so naturally they wouldn’t be scared.”

“Why would they want to stop the fence cutting?”

“Why do they do anything?” he countered. “All those two are interested in is causing trouble. I don’t imagine they care too much who gets hurt in the process.”

“So long as it’s you.”

Sam shrugged. “They haven’t been too fond of me ever since I put a bullet in one of them.”

Mention of the shooting that had been one of Sam’s close calls made Catherine shiver. She changed the subject. “Did you ever talk to those two men, Bones and Skeeter?”

Sam looked at her sharply. “Yes, I did.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

Catherine sighed in frustration. “What did you think of them?”

“They’re straight.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they didn’t kill my calves.”

“Did they hang up the dynamite?”

“They aren’t likely to admit that to me, now, are they?”

Catherine supposed he was right, but she didn’t feel inclined to say so. “Do you think they did?”

“Cat, why are you so worried about all this?”

They stopped in the shadow of the barn and looked at each other. From here, they were out of sight of the house. The evening stillness settled around them, punctuated by the hum of insects and the plaintive calls of birds.

“I—I told you,” she said. “I’m worried about the community.”

Her breath caught when she saw him reach for her, but he must have seen her reaction and let his hand drop. “Damn it, aren’t you a little worried about me, too?”

“Why should I be?” she challenged, wrapping her arms protectively around her.

He drew a ragged breath, and she saw his inner struggle reflected in his eyes as he decided how to answer her. “Because of what happened between us.”

“You forced me!” she cried defensively, but he wouldn’t let her get away with her lie. He grabbed her arms and shook her slightly.

“The first time, maybe, but what about the other times? I didn’t force you then, did I? I even asked you to stop me, but you couldn’t could you?”

She shook her head, tears of humiliation burning her eyes.

“Why, Cat? Why?”

“Stop it!” she begged. “You’ve already gotten what you wanted. Can’t you leave me alone?”

Her words startled him and he froze, staring down at her incredulously. “Do you think all I wanted from you was a roll in the hay?”

Pride forbade her from answering, so she simply lifted her chin defiantly.

He read her expression, and his lips curved into a smile. “You’re wrong, Cat,” he said as his grip on her arms gentled into a caress. “I want a lot more than that. I want you, all of you, forever.”

Stunned, she did not resist when his mouth claimed hers in a kiss of fierce possession. Some distant part of her brain recalled David’s words about Sam wanting to make her fall in love with him. But why?

Too numb to decide, she passively accepted Sam’s kiss. When at last he broke it, he held her to his heart in a cherishing embrace. A tremor shook him, and he whispered, “God, I’ve missed you, Cat.”

She’d missed him, too, or at least she’d missed the loving they had shared briefly. His body felt warm and strong, as if he could protect her from every evil in the world. In his arms, she could almost forget it was Sam Connors from whom she most needed protection.

Reluctantly, she recalled her suspicions about him. Perhaps he did want her to love him, but he had said nothing about loving her in return. He wanted her to think well of him, but why?

“Sam, don’t,” she said, pushing out of his arms. He released her immediately, stepping back and cramming his hands into his pants pockets. Desire burned in his eyes, but he would not force her.

Feeling oddly bereft, she hugged herself again. “Sam, I—I don’t understand any of this. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to feel the same way about me that I feel about you,” he said boldly. “I know that might never happen, so I’ll settle for just having you. I’m not a very patient man, but I can wait when I have to. I’ll wait for you to change your mind about me, and in the meantime, I’ll do everything I can to make you change your mind.”

Catherine didn’t know what to say. For one wild instant she considered telling him she already loved him, but she quickly rejected the idea as insane. She still didn’t know exactly why he wanted her to love him. “If you think you can come to my room anytime you want—”

He shook his head vigorously. “No, Cat, we got things a little backwards before, but they’re straight now. I won’t come again until you ask me.”

Ask him? Was that his plan? To woo her into becoming his voluntary mistress? The outrage she tried to muster foundered under the weight of her fear as she realized how weak her love for him made her. Even at this very moment, she yearned to be in his arms again. How long could she resist a concentrated assault on her emotions?

But why not simply surrender right now? Hadn’t she once decided a love affair with him was the wisest course? She didn’t believe a marriage between them could work, did she?

“I’m going to court you, Cat. If you’ve got any objections, you’d better make them right now.”

She stared up at his implacable expression and felt her own helplessness. At least his ridiculous plan would give her some time to sort things out and decide on a plan of her own. “I have no objections.”

He seemed relieved. He drew a long breath, let it out slowly, and said, “I reckon we’d better get back before they start wondering where we are. I don’t want any gossip.”

He offered his arm and she took it, not trusting her legs to function properly after the shock she had just sustained. The man who had seduced her was worried about her good name! She wondered if she would ever understand him.

Sam showed up at the Shultzes again on Sunday, along with half-a-dozen other bachelors, so Catherine had no opportunity to speak with him alone. No one could mistake the way he looked at her, though, as if he already owned her. Heide remarked on it, amused at the dampening effect it was having on Catherine’s other suitors.

In spite of his promise, Sam didn’t stay completely away from the school. On Tuesday and again on Thursday, he stopped by just as David was finishing up his lessons. Under David’s suspicious observation, she and Sam exchanged pleasantries. Sam’s conduct remained exemplary, yet the look in his eyes could have burned a hole through a brick wall.

Each night Catherine lay awake until the wee hours, certain Sam would come to her and not really relieved when he did not. Then, on Friday morning, she found a package on her doorstep when she started out to the privy.

She glanced quickly around, half expecting to see him standing under the willows, but of course he wasn’t there. She tore open the package and found a bouquet of roses... silk roses.

Common sense told her anyone could have left them, but she remembered the night Sam had brought her wildflowers and how ashamed he had seemed of the poor offering. It would be like him to make amends. He would have no way of knowing how she treasured those wildflowers or that she had pressed them in a book.

Where on earth had he found silk flowers? Someone must have made them for him. With a smile, she realized she would probably find out who on Sunday, if not before. Surely, none of the Crosswicks matrons would be able to keep this secret for long.

She carried the flowers inside and laid them on the table. They certainly were lovely, she thought, knowing she was foolish to be so sentimental, knowing she was playing right into his hands and not caring one bit. In his attempts to make her love him, he was making her love him more, but so long as she kept her love a secret from him, what harm could it do?

Only a few children had arrived that morning when Eli Redfern came dashing up. “Miss Eaton! Miss Eaton!”

“Slow down, Eli,” she chastened, catching him as she stooped down to eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s been a robbery. Somebody broke into the Shallcrosses’ store last night.”

“Who was it? Do they know?”

“Mr. Shallcross says it was the Taggerts, but nobody saw ’em, so they don’t know for sure.”

“Oh, dear,” Catherine murmured, wondering what she should do. Her instinct was to go to Twila, but she had her students to worry about. Just then David rode into the yard. She explained the situation to him, and he readily agreed to watch the children for her.

Most of the townspeople had gathered in the street outside the mercantile. Everyone started talking at once when she arrived, explaining what had happened. Unable to make sense of the jumble, she sought Mathias and Twila, who were in the middle of the crowd. “Twila!” she called.

Twila saw her and waved, and Catherine fought her way over. “What on earth happened? Eli Redfern said the store had been robbed.”

“Somebody broke in overnight. They took some food and a couple blankets, but mostly they took ammunition. Not even any guns. I guess they already have all the guns they can carry.”

“You think it was the Taggerts?”

“Who else could it have been? Anyone else could have walked in and bought whatever they wanted.”

“What will you do?”

“We’ve sent for Sam Connors. He’s the best tracker in these parts, and Mathias found where they left a trail. If anybody can find them, Sam will.”

“He’s tried before without much success,” Catherine reminded her. Part of her hoped Sam wouldn’t find them this time, either. To do so would mean gunplay, and the thought of Sam being shot again made her weak.

To Catherine’s relief, the search for the Taggerts was once again a failure. The posse rode back into town late that evening, weary and defeated. David had long since left for home, and Catherine was keeping Twila company when the men returned. Sam followed Mathias into the Shallcrosses’ house.

“I invited Sam to stay for supper,” Mathias explained.

“Catherine, you’ll stay, too, won’t you?” Twila asked, and did not wait for a reply. “We’ll have something ready in no time.”

The men ate silently. Sitting across from Sam in the Shallcrosses’ dining room, Catherine tried unsuccessfully to resist the feelings of tenderness the sight of him stirred in her. Dusty and trail-worn and discouraged, he seemed very much in need of love. She was grateful for their chaperones, whose presence prevented her from offering him any comfort.

They hadn’t quite finished their meal when they heard shouts coming from the center of town.

“What now?” Mathias muttered, rising from his chair. The four of them hurried outside and down to the main street, where once again a crowd was gathering, this time around the newly arrived stage.

“Good heavens,” Twila said as they ran. “In all the excitement, I never noticed the stage was late today.”

Sam and Mathias pushed their way through the crowd to the driver.

“What happened?” Mathias asked.

“Two fellows held me up. They shot the lead horse, and the whole shebang almost went over. Don’t know what they was after, I wasn’t carrying anything but mail and a few passengers. They had the passengers turn out their pockets, and they took my watch and then they hightailed it.”

“What did the men look like?” Sam asked.

The driver and the two passengers, a cowboy and a drummer, gave descriptions that sounded very much like the Taggert brothers.

“Their faces were covered, but I’d bet money it was them all right,” the cowboy said.

Sam and Mathias exchanged a look. “Feel like going for another ride tonight, Sam?” Mathias asked.

“It’s almost dark. We’d best wait till morning.”

Mathias nodded his agreement and instructed the other men to meet them at first light.

“There’s no use in you going all the way home tonight, Sam,” Mathias said. “You can stay with us.” Sam nodded absently, his gaze scanning the crowd for sight of Catherine.

She was waiting for him, her stomach churning in renewed apprehension at the thought of Sam going after the Taggerts again tomorrow. The Shallcrosses went on ahead to their house, and Sam and Catherine followed more slowly.

“Why would they rob the stage?” Catherine asked as they walked.

“I reckon they thought they’d get some money. They aren’t real smart.”

“If they’re so stupid, why haven’t you been able to catch them?” she snapped.

“Ouch,” he said, grinning sheepishly and rubbing his chest as if she’d given him a blow to the heart.

She sighed in exasperation. “I’m not trying to insult you, Sam. I’m just worried.”

“About the community?”

Catherine bit her lip and silently debated the wisdom of telling him the truth. “No, I’m worried about you.” He stopped dead. They were in the middle of the street, in front of the Shallcrosses’ house.

“Mathias!” he called, stopping his friend on the porch steps. “I’ll walk Catherine over to the school.” Mathias waved his reply and went on into the house. Before he had even turned away, Sam had Catherine by the arm. He walked so fast she stumbled trying to keep up with him, and she began to regret her confession. Why was he in such a hurry? Did he think her concern meant she was willing to go to bed with him again?

The instant they reached the privacy of the far side of the school, Sam hauled her into his arms. Her name rumbled from his chest as he crushed her to him, and instinctively, she hugged him back, putting all the love she felt into the embrace. They stood, clinging, for long minutes as Catherine fought the tide of emotions swelling in her.

He sighed apologetically. “I must smell like a horse.”

She shook her head against his shirtfront. He did, of course, but she didn’t care.

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Why are you so worried about me, Cat?”

She drew a shaky breath. “I don’t want you to die.”

He pulled away, cupping her face in his two huge hands and turning it up so he could read the expression in the fading light. The desperation in his dark eyes took her breath away. “Do you care about me just a little, Cat?”

“A little,” she admitted as a tear spilled down her cheek.

He caught it with his thumb and looked at it in wonder. “You’re crying.”

She tried to cover her face, but he wouldn’t let her. His hands tightened on her head, holding her still for his inspection. “Why are you crying, Cat?”

“I told you, I’m worried.”

“I know. You don’t want me to get killed.”

“I don’t want anyone to get killed,” she insisted.

“Are you crying for anyone or are you crying for me?”

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together against the words straining to break free. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t give him that power.

“Please, Cat, I have to know!”

Her eyes flew open, and she saw his anguish and his pain. Dear heaven, he was suffering as much as she! “For you,” she whispered.

The sound he made was part groan and part laugh. He crushed her to him again, and she reveled in the thunder of his heartbeat against her ear. His hands moved over her back and shoulders with what could only be described as reverence, and he murmured her name over and over.

Never had she felt so cherished or so adored. At last she understood his compulsion to have her love him. He loved her, too. Perhaps he wouldn’t call it that. Perhaps he thought of his feelings in terms of physical possession. Hadn’t he said he wanted to have her forever? But whatever he named it, she knew how he felt because she shared the same desperate longing.

After what seemed a long time, she said, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

He made a startled sound, but when he looked down at her, he was grinning. “I’d probably tear your skin off with these whiskers.”

“Do you think I’d care?”

“Oh, Cat,” he breathed, lowering his face to hers. He was infinitely careful, at least at first, touching her gently with lips and tongue, merely tasting, until she captured his head in her two hands and opened her mouth.

His whiskers were vicious, but she welcomed the pain. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rose up on tiptoe, offering him every part of her. The kiss went on and on until they were both gasping and he finally let her go, sliding her slowly down his body until she stood on her feet again.

“I have to go,” he said hoarsely. “Twila and Mathias will wonder where I am.”

She smiled smugly. “I didn’t ask you to stay, did I?”

He smiled back. “No, you didn’t. Do you want to?” Feigning outrage, she gave him a playful swat. He caught her hands and pulled them up around his neck again. “Maybe I can convince you to,” he said, grasping her bottom and moving his hips against hers.

“Conceited man!” she cried, so full of joy she could have wept. “Maybe I can make you beg me!”

In the ensuing battle, Sam lost his hat and Catherine’s hair came tumbling down around her shoulders. When she finally surrendered, she was pressed, helpless, between the schoolhouse wall and Sam’s desire. Laughing and panting, they kissed between breaths. “Do you... want me... to stay?” Sam gasped.

“I’ll never... tell!” she replied coyly, squirming wantonly in a phony attempt to free herself.

At last, in self-defense, he pushed himself away, still holding her against the wall so he could regain his self- control. “You’re a witch, Miss Eaton. No wonder all your students are in love with you.”

“Not all of them are. I don’t think Jessica Nylan cares for me at all.”

“Then she’s the only one. You oughta be locked away somewhere, for the good of the community. ”

“And where would you suggest locking me away?”

His eyes glittered wickedly. “Anyplace, so long as I was your only guard.”

“Oh, Sam!” she cried, struggling against his hands to embrace him again, but he called upon reserves of strength and resisted the temptation.

“I have to go, Cat,” he reminded her regretfully. “Mathias is liable to come looking for me.”

She surrendered with a sigh, and suddenly reality came rushing back. Whether Sam loved her or not, tomorrow he was going after the Taggerts again. Tears stung her eyes. “Be careful,” she said.

He straightened, dropping his hold on her. Reaching up, he lightly stroked her cheek. “I have a reason to be now, don’t I?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

Desire kindled in his eyes, but he took a step back, allowing her room to escape. “Get on inside now while I can still let you go.”

Leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew he was right. She certainly didn’t want Twila or Mathias to find them in bed together, and if he stayed another minute, she was going to drag him inside herself.

She walked slowly toward the door, backward so she didn’t have to tear her gaze away from him just yet. “Good night,” she said when she reached the door.

“Good night,” he replied.

She gave him a tentative wave.

He lifted a hand in silent salute.

“Come back to me,” she said.

“I will.”