Early Dawn

  When he finally came up for breath, he felt dizzy, and Eden’s beautiful blue eyes looked like cobalt glass that had been melted with a torch and given a brisk stir. She made fists on his jacket as if her legs might not hold her up.

  “Oh, my.”

  Matthew thought, Oh, shit, because in that moment, he knew for sure that he loved her. He just prayed to God he could lead the Sebastians on a ride that would have them so confused, they’d wonder which country they were in, and then he’d find his way back to her. A sense of urgency driving him, he kissed her again, wishing with all his heart that he could stay. Only he couldn’t. Forcing himself to break contact with her sweet, generous mouth, he shuddered for breath, loosened his hold on her, and fell back a step. His purpose hadn’t changed but his motivation had. To see Eden again, that was his goal.

  “I’ll be back,” he whispered gruffly. “If I take longer than expected, don’t worry. I swear I’ll be back, no matter what, even if I have to crawl every foot of the way.”

  She nodded. “You’d better come back, Matthew Coulter. If you don’t, I’ll hunt you down.”

  He couldn’t believe she could make him smile when his heart felt as if it were being torn from his chest, but she did. He stared at her for a moment, taking in every detail about her. Then he found himself with his arms around her again, which made no sense at all. He had to get going. Her safety depended on it.

  “Eden,” he said gruffly, “on the off chance that something does happen, figure out a way to lead your brothers in to where you’re hiding. They’re out here somewhere, looking for you. I know they are. I just wish to God we’d met up with them sooner.”

  “I don’t want to think about anything going wrong, Matthew.”

  “It’s not likely, but there’s always a possibility. I need to know you’ll be okay.”

  “You’re coming back. Understand?” As he pulled away, she cupped his face in her hands, her eyes smiling up at him through sparkling tears. “I mean it, Matthew Coulter, and don’t think I don’t. I’m twenty-three years old, and I’m not even green-broke yet. I want my first time to be with you.”

  She truly was the damnedest woman he’d ever run across. “I haven’t asked you to marry me. What about a man not buying the cow when he can get the milk for free?”

  Her cheek dimpled in an impish grin. “If I waited around for a proposal of marriage from you, I’d be an old maid before you got the words out.”

  Matthew figured she had a point. He’d sort of sidestepped when he’d been trying to tell her that he cared about her, and chances were good he’d sidestep again.

  “Besides, I’m not all that interested in a ring and promises anymore.”

  “You aren’t?”

  “Heck, no.” She crooked her little finger under his nose. “I want your heart wrapped around my pinkie. If I have that, Matthew, I’ll have everything.”

  Well, the lady definitely had his heart wrapped around her pinkie. As Matthew rode out, his thoughts remained with Eden at the cave, and it took all his strength not to double back. She was a feisty little package, but she was also a battered, exhausted, and fragile lady right now. Leaving her alone in a wilderness area thick with grizzly bears and cougars was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Had he hung the meat high enough from the tree and far enough away from her camp? Shit. A bear could smell a fresh kill from over a mile away. So could a cougar. What the hell was he doing?

  Doggedly, Matthew continued forward. When he narrowed it all down, the biggest threat to Eden’s safety didn’t come from bears or cougars. The Sebastian boys were the real danger. They weren’t accustomed to being bested. Out from under their noses, Matthew had stolen a woman who would have brought them a fine price across the border, taken one of their horses, and made fools of them as well. They were men with small minds who’d come to expect things to go their way. They rode in, they conquered, they spilled blood, they looted, and then they rode off, priding themselves on how clever they were. No one ever caught them. No one ever messed with them. No one ever turned the tables on them.

  Right now, they were hopping mad. It was no longer about the price that Eden might have brought them across the border. It wasn’t about the bay gelding that he’d snatched out from under their drunken noses. They were still on his and Eden’s trail because they couldn’t let him get away with besting them. If they allowed that, they would have to face themselves as they really were: stupid, no-account snakes who would eventually get caught and strung up.

  Matthew had to ride and ride hard, diverting their attention from Eden’s hideaway. And yet, after watching her shooting skill, he felt a spark of hope flame in his heart that, given enough warning, she’d be able to put a bullet right between the eyes of each one of those lousy scum. She’d find tubers and shoots to survive on if the meat ran out. Or she’d figure out a way to hunt. And Matthew had every confidence that her brothers would eventually find her. Even if he ended up getting his ass shot full of lead, she would be all right.

  A quarter mile from the cave, Matthew dismounted to cut several branches from an elm. He tied the limbs with rope to trail them behind Herman, travois-style. After saddling up, he looked back every few feet to make sure the brush was obliterating all his tracks, and was relieved to see that it was working.

  Once back at last night’s camp, Matthew threw the green branches onto the bonfire he started. When he doused the flames, smoke mushroomed into the sky, sending up a signal he knew wouldn’t go unnoticed. He left some of the wood still burning so the smoke would continue to flow upward. Then he headed north, not really caring where he went, just as long as the day’s ride took him miles away from Eden. The Sebastians would follow him. He felt sure of it. They would be expecting him to ride in a circle, as he’d been doing for weeks. Not this time. He would zigzag first one direction and then another to confuse the hell out of the sons of bitches.

  Eden missed Matthew dreadfully that first night. She cooked her supper well before dark, because there was less chance of her fire being seen when it was still daylight. She’d chosen a spot among the trees for the tiny pit, hoping that the thick canopy of pine boughs above it would cant the smoke, sending it off in angles that would thin out and hopefully vanish before it reached the sky. Matthew believed the Sebastians were somewhere close, so she had to be extremely careful.

  As soon as her meal was ready, she kicked dirt onto the flames, the only way she knew to smother them without causing an upward spiral of gray. She didn’t look forward to being alone in the dark without a fire to see by, but it was better than sending the Sebastians an engraved invitation to pay her a visit. She had assured Matthew that she wouldn’t be afraid out here at night, and that had been the truth. On cattle drives, she’d been left alone at camp a number of times. Only then she’d always had light. Tonight would be a whole different kettle of fish. Oh, well. As Ace would say, if she couldn’t tote it, she shouldn’t have picked it up. Tomorrow night would be easier. By then Matthew would have led the Sebastians well away from this area, and it would be safe for her to keep a small fire burning.

  As she consumed her supper, she thought of Matthew with every bite. He would like the meat and gravy, she thought, and he’d be making appreciative sounds as he wolfed down the groundnuts. She wished she had his appetite. Normally she ate quite a lot for a woman, but lately she got full really fast and couldn’t force down another bite. She knew she was losing weight at a fast clip. Over the last few days, more than once she’d had to cinch in the rope that Matthew had given her to use as a belt.

  When she’d eaten all that she could, she buried what remained on her plate so as not to attract long-toothed predators. After cleaning up the pots and dishes, she went into the cave to figure out where she would sleep. As she moved toward the back of the enclosure, her gaze caught on a familiar shape, and she missed a step. The bedroll. Matthew must have sneaked it in here when she wasn’t looking. Tears burned in her eyes. It pricked her temper that he’d left
behind his only blanket, but the gesture was so sweet and thoughtful she felt as if he were sending her a hug. He would freeze his behind off tonight. Unlike her, he’d be out in the open, vulnerable to the wind and weather. Stubborn man. He was bound and determined to play hero, whether she wanted him to or not.

  The pallet and blanket smelled of him—a wonderful blend of leather, sweat, soap, and bay rum. As she huddled at the back of the cave, trying to drift off to sleep, she buried her nose in the wool and pretended he was there beside her. Matthew. She grinned as she recalled how he’d told her that he was coming to care for her. A pretty little redhead with a fiery temper and a sassy mouth sneaked past my guard with a pick and chisel. As a girl, Eden had dreamed of how a man might someday tell her that he loved her. Her favorite scenario had been of a handsome fellow in a suit who went down on bended knee and spouted romantic avowals of devotion as he handed her a bouquet of flowers. Bah. John had finally fulfilled that girlhood fantasy, but when she remembered back, it hadn’t been nearly as fantastic as she’d thought it would be. Now, instead of a well-heeled Beau Brummell, she’d tied up with a dusty cowboy who wasn’t much of a talker, but she wouldn’t have traded him for a thousand San Francisco dandies. Matthew’s proclamation had come straight from his heart. She’d seen that in his eyes. Even more important, he’d had to push out every word. Even though he had never actually said that he loved her, the message had come through loud and clear.

  Thinking of how delicious it had felt when Matthew kissed her, Eden knew for certain now that she’d never really loved John. His kisses had never made her feel the way Matthew’s did; nor had she ever felt so deeply moved when John held her in his arms. Earlier in her relationship with Matthew, Eden had cringed at the thought of physical intimacy. Her experiences with the Sebastians had made her dread being touched again, and if what they’d done to her even remotely resembled what went on between a man and a woman in the marriage bed, she’d wanted no part of it.

  That feeling had left her now. Remembering the glow of happiness on the faces of her sisters-in-law, Eden knew it wasn’t like that between two people who loved each other. More important, she’d come to trust Matthew completely. He would never do anything to hurt her. She felt certain of that. Drawing the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, she tried to imagine what it would be like if he touched her body, not in the impersonal way he had a few times before, but as her lover. Instinctively she knew that every light stroke of his hands over her skin would feel absolutely wonderful. If he ever issued her an invitation to lie with him, she would not hesitate to say yes.

  As Eden drifted off into an exhausted sleep, she said a prayer that God would keep Matthew safe. If he died out there, trying to protect her, she would never forgive herself. Never. Having that thought helped her to understand Matthew’s guilt over Livvy’s death in a way she’d never been able to before. Eden was glad of that. Matthew Coulter deserved a woman who understood him—a woman who would love him, support him, and stand beside him.

  If given the chance, Eden would do everything in her power to be that woman.

  Chapter Twelve

  Matthew sorely missed Eden when he stopped for the night. Though he’d brought along some of the deer meat, what he cooked up didn’t taste half as good as what she would have fixed. He’d also left her the coffeepot, and the coffin varnish that he boiled in a tin can was so strong it almost made his pant legs roll up and down like a window shade. After eating, he tried entertaining himself by playing the harmonica, but it wasn’t nearly as much fun without Eden to sing along. He ended his repertoire with “Beautiful Dreamer,” and as the last note trailed away, tears made his vision blurry.

  Feeling foolish, he smothered his fire to make an early night of it. With Eden along, he’d always waited until after daybreak to hit the trail, but now that he was alone, he could light out in the dark if he wanted, and stop to rest the animals during the early dawn, when the dim light hampered their vision.

  Using his saddle as a pillow, Matthew stretched out on the ground with only his jacket to shield him. It was so chilly, he could envision waking up with a crust of frost coating him. He didn’t really mind the lack of a bedroll, though. He’d slept with Eden to keep her warm, not the other way around. After three years on the trail, he was used to the cold.

  Sighing, he stared at the stars. For a while, he thought about the Sebastians, wondering how far behind him they were. Tomorrow he’d ride in a zigzag pattern again. When he had lured them far enough away from Eden, he would take to a stream, travel a goodly distance, and then break for shore, feathering away his tracks as he went. If he rode far enough north before circling back to the cave, maybe it would be safe for him to take Eden to Denver. Her recent weight loss and pallor truly concerned him. She needed not only to rest and feed herself up, but also to see a doctor. He had a bad feeling those busted ribs weren’t healing right. So far as he knew, there wasn’t much a sawbones could do about that, but maybe there was an elixir to build her strength back up.

  Remembering the time when she’d been so mulish about saddling her own horse, he smiled in the darkness. She’d been bound and determined to prove to him that she was as tough as a woman came, and damned if she hadn’t succeeded. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget that day at the snake den, how she’d fanned the hammers of those guns. He’d known stouter and sturdier females, but none of them had ever possessed Eden’s pluck.

  A funny, achy sensation settled in Matthew’s chest as he recalled their good-byes that afternoon—how she’d clasped his fingers and how her eyes had sparkled so prettily with tears. He’d done a poor job of telling her that he cared for her, and regretted that now. He expected to see her again, but what if he didn’t? He hadn’t said the one word he knew she’d wanted to hear, and he felt like a chicken-livered coward. Love. Why was it so hard for him to spit that out?

  Matthew guessed it all circled back to Livvy—that feeling way deep inside that he was betraying her. He’d fallen in love with her when he was still in knickers, and he still loved her now. He always would. It felt strange to be having such strong feelings for Eden at the same time, like he’d become a philanderer or something. Yet rationally he knew that wasn’t so. A man couldn’t be unfaithful to a dead woman, only to her memory, and Matthew knew that wasn’t the case with him. He would always treasure his memories of Olivia. He would always hold her in high regard. Never would a word come out of his mouth to malign her character or criticize her in any way.

  He was just ready to move on now, to say good-bye and get on with his life.

  For the first time in a very long while, Matthew was able to picture Livvy’s face clearly again—the gentleness of her smile, the innocence in her big brown eyes. For so long, he’d remembered only her final moments and never thought about all the good times they’d shared, because it hurt too much. Now, suddenly, the hurting had stopped. He remembered once when he’d tried to carry her through the snow from the cabin to his folks’ house and lost his footing. They’d both ended up buried in a drift. Livvy had been wearing one of her nice dresses, and he’d expected her to get in a grump. Instead, she’d shrieked with laughter, grabbed a handful of snow, and rubbed it in his face. He had retaliated, and the snowball fight was on. They had arrived for supper at his parents’ place rosy-cheeked, soaking wet, and weak in the knees from laughing so hard.

  She’d always been such a sweetheart, fussing over him constantly. One year, she’d burned his birthday cake and cried her eyes out over ruining his party. Nothing he said had comforted her. She had wanted it to be a perfect day. Another time she’d scorched his Sunday shirt with the iron and had spent every spare second all the next week making him a new one. And when she’d failed to become pregnant, she fretted because she knew how much he wanted children.

  In short, the most important thing to Livvy had always been his happiness, so how could he believe that she would want him to be unhappy now? If she was up there in heaven, like Eden said, M
atthew knew she was rejoicing that he’d found someone else. Livvy wouldn’t want him to be alone. She wouldn’t want him to feel guilty or sad. It was time to let her go.

  Matthew took a deep breath and slowly released it. Letting go. For so long, he’d clung to his sorrow with an iron fist, refusing to turn loose of it. And he’d felt as if a constant, heavy weight rode his shoulders. Now he suddenly felt light as a feather, and free. No worry about betrayal, no sense of guilt. He’d been the best husband to Livvy that he’d known how to be. It wasn’t his fault that the Sebastians had come onto Lazy J land that afternoon. It wasn’t his fault that they were murderous bastards. It wasn’t his fault that they’d beaten him senseless and he hadn’t been able to get up to defend his wife. None of it, absolutely none of it, had been his fault. The acceptance added to his relief. He had dragged the guilt around with him long enough.

  All day, when he’d started to think about how it had felt to kiss Eden, he’d shoved the thoughts from his mind. And deep down, he knew why. Though it pained him to admit it, Livvy’s kisses had never made his blood heat the way Eden’s had. When he recalled how she’d melted against him and how intoxicating her mouth had tasted, his throat went as dry as a preacher’s sermon.

  It wasn’t that he hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed kissing Livvy. It was just that the two women were very different. Livvy had been so shy and overly modest that it had been months before he ever saw her nude, and she’d balked the first few times he’d tried to taste the recesses of her mouth when he kissed her. In bed, he’d tried to be a gentleman about it, never pressing her to do anything that made her feel uncomfortable. Even after five years of marriage, their lovemaking had been pretty tame. He doubted it would be that way with Eden. As soon as he’d convinced her to unclench her teeth while they kissed, she’d held nothing back. He expected she would do the same when they made love. She was an all-or-nothing kind of lady.