Texas Hero

  Nighttime had settled across the hills, leaving the cabin in darkness.

  She fumbled with a lantern, then turned toward the fireplace, determined to chase the chill from the room.

  Minutes later, when Thad led his horse out of the enclosure, he could see the first puffs of smoke from Caroline's chimney. Standing outside, he could see her clearly illuminated by the light of the fire.

  Dangerous, he thought. If he could see her this clearly, so could anyone else who happened to pass this way in the night.

  He didn't knock. Instead he tried the door, hoping she'd had the sense to latch it securely.

  The door swung inward and Caroline looked up sharply. She lifted a hand to her throat in alarm.

  He'd intended merely to teach her a lesson about using caution. But the vision that greeted him had him stopping in his tracks.

  She'd been caught in the act of undressing. She had removed her spectacles and taken the pins from her hair. It tumbled in a riot of coal black curls down her back. Her feet were bare. The neat row of buttons on her gown was

  unfastened to the waist. Underneath she wore a creamy white chemise that displayed more than it covered.

  He felt his breath catch in his throat. He hadn't felt this awkward since he was fourteen and discovered that girls and even grown women watched him whenever he rode through town.

  Now that he'd blundered in, he had to explain himself. "I think you should keep a gun in the cabin."

  She clutched the gaping edges of her bodice in one hand and tossed her head angrily.

  "I think it's obvious how I feel about guns."

  His tone hardened.

  "They can make the difference between living and dying."

  "And you would know about that, wouldn't you?"

  Suddenly angry, he took a menacing step closer.

  "Yes. I'd know about that."

  "How many men have you buried?"

  "So many I've lost count. Teacher. The first was my father, when I was seven."

  He saw the shock on her face. His voice lowered. "Didn't Jessie tell you why we went to Abilene?"

  She shook her head.

  "My father didn't come back from a cattle drive. We found him in jail, awaiting hanging for a crime he didn't commit."

  Caroline's hand went to her mouth.

  "Did they... hang him?"

  "We broke him out of jail."

  "You mean... you and Jessie and Clan?"

  He nodded.

  "But one of the deputies managed to wound Pa during the escape. He hung on long enough to make it to Texas. We buried him beside the Red River."

  "I'm sorry." She could think of nothing else to say.

  "Don't be. Big Jack Con way lived the way he wanted to. And before he died he gave us a sense of who we were and what we wanted to be.

  More than that, he gave us each other. I may have been only seven years old, but I already knew I'd be willing to die for Jessie or Clan. "His tone hardened.

  "Or kill for them."

  Something in the way he said it made her go very still.

  He didn't know why in hell he was unburdening his soul to this woman.

  But there was something about her. Though he was a man of few words, she made the talking easy.

  He touched a hand to the gun at his waist.

  "Cole taught me how to use a gun while we were on the trail to Abilene.

  When we got back to Texas and thought we were safe, a crazy gunman threatened to. violate Jessie. I may have been only seven, but I knew what I had to do. And I did it." He saw the stricken look on Caroline's face before she struggled to compose herself. She thought about what Jessie had said earlier that day, about her little brothers never having had the time for childhood.

  For some strange reason, she felt tears sting her eyes.

  "But you were only a little boy."

  He saw the tears and was moved by them. Stepping closer, he whispered, "Don't cry for me, Caroline. I was never a little boy. There wasn't time for such things when Texas was a wilderness."

  He knew he shouldn't touch her. But the softness of her skin was such a temptation.

  Tossing aside the need for caution, he lifted a hand and wiped the corner of her eye. Soft. Even softer than he remembered. And now that he had touched her, he wanted more. So much more.

  "It's terrible to be afraid, to have no one...." She realized she was weeping for another child who'd been afraid and alone, and had been forced to do tough things to survive.

  Thad opened his arms and she moved into them, allowing the tears to dampen the front of his shirt. Tenderness. It was something he wasn't good at.

  But with her it seemed natural. Beneath the ladylike pose, beneath the defenses that surfaced when she was threatened, there was something.

  something wounded and vulnerable that made him want to comfort her, protect her.

  "I don't like knowing you're alone out here," he murmured against her hair.

  "You're far from town, far from the nearest ranch. Anything could happen to you and no one would know."

  "I can take care of myself." She lifted her head to face him.

  He could see the dampness of tears still on her lashes. "Yes, you certainly can." He lifted both hands to her eyes and wiped the tears with his thumbs.

  It seemed the most natural thing in the world to frame her face with his hands and lower his lips to hers.

  He felt the first flicker of flame, low and deep inside. He could feel the heat building, and still he kept the kiss easy.

  Caroline stood very still, absorbing the shock.

  As if in slow motion his hands tangled in her hair, drawing her head back until he took the kiss deeper.

  With a little moan she clutched at him, her arms encircling his waist.

  He pulled her firmly against him and his mouth savaged hers. A sudden, wrenching need, more powerful than anything he'd ever experienced, nearly swamped him. He wanted her. More than he'd ever wanted his freedom or his independence. There was no denying it. He felt need war against reason.

  What was happening to him? This wasn't the kind of woman a man could take and then walk away from. She was the kind that made a man think about making promises and setting down roots. And building fences to keep away all harm.

  Her kisses were as fervent as his. The fire that raged through him was blazing in her veins, too. And her hands were soft, seductive, drawing him even closer. Whatever passion he felt, whatever needs, she felt them, too, however much she might try to deny it.

  Her scent filled him, clouding his mind. Her sighs were like whispered promises. He was being caught in some silken web and soon he'd be so tangled he'd never be free.

  He had to remind himself of the freedoms he'd always cherished.

  With all the control he could muster he pushed himself free of her embrace.

  When he stepped back a pace, she held herself very straight, struggling for breath.

  "I still say you need a gun. Teacher."

  "Maybe you're right." She was surprised at how difficult it was to speak.

  "At least then I'd have some protection against you if you forced your way in here again."

  His voice was calmer now.

  "I didn't force. The door was unlatched. And you didn't send me away."

  "You didn't knock," she said accusingly.

  ' "Neither will someone bent on harming you. From now on. Teacher, keep your door latched." He gave her a smoldering glance that said more than words.

  Even now he felt a rush of heat at the sight of her. Dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, drawing his gaze to the open bodice and the cleft between her breasts. He still ached to have her.

  "Though I doubt a latch, or even a gun, would stop anyone who really wanted to get to you."

  He stalked outside and pulled himself into the saddle. Caroline crossed the room and stood framed in the doorway.

  ' "Why did you spend time in a Mexican jail?" she asked. Even from this distance she could see th
e whiteness of his teeth as he smiled.

  "It was a case of mistaken identity. Like my pa, somebody mistook me for a horse thief."

  He nudged his horse into a trot. Caroline latched the door. Leaning against it, she listened to the sound of hoof- beats until they disappeared.

  Hours later she still lay wide-awake, alert to the sounds of the night.

  Thad Con way was a strange and complex man. Something happened to her whenever he got near. Something that terrified her. Something that could destroy all she'd worked for.

  Chapter Nine

  In the late morning the children began arriving for their first day of school. Carts, wagons and small rigs littered the school yard. In the enclosure with Caroline's horse were half a dozen other horses and ponies.

  Two large dogs that had accompanied their young masters dozed in the doorway of the school. A gray-and-white cat wandered in and leaped to a window ledge, where it promptly curled up and went to sleep.

  Caroline met parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles who accompanied the children to their first day of school. She learned the names of practically everyone in the town. And she even met youngsters who were too young to attend school. They watched their older siblings with envy as they entered the sparkling schoolroom.

  "We've waited for this day for more than two years." Sara Waverly introduced her eight-year-old son, Ethan, and ten-year-old daughter, Emma.

  Ethan was small and frail like his mother. Emma was taller than her mother by several inches, and broader in the shoulders than most of the boys.

  Sara watched with approval as both children quietly took their seats without talking or laughing with the other children.

  "I've let them know that if you have to scold them, they'll face more discipline at home. I expect a report on their behavior."

  Caroline nodded, feeling a wave of sympathy for the two nervous children, who seemed isolated from all the others around them.

  A young mother caught Caroline's hands in both of hers. "I can read some, so I've managed to teach my son. Win- ton, the words, but I was never very good with figures." Bright dots of color highlighted her cheeks as she admitted, "I couldn't teach him what I didn't understand.

  But now you'll teach my son all the things he'll need to know to get by.

  Miss Adams. "

  " I hope so," Caroline said with a smile.

  As she studied the eager, expectant faces of the children, she fervently hoped so.

  Most of the morning was taken up with learning the names of her students.

  After a break for lunch and a chance for all of them to run outside and exercise limbs and lungs, the afternoon session was dedicated to determining which groups the students would be in.

  Caroline asked each student to read and to do sums on a small slate.

  Then she broke the classroom down into several groups according to skill and several more according to age.

  From her precious store of books she chose one for each reading level.

  The children, many of whom had never seen a real book, were delighted.

  The books, which would be treated like treasures, were to be kept on a shelf in the classroom and read only during school hours.

  Toward the end of the school day, when she noted that the children were growing restless, Caroline offered to read aloud from a novel of adventure.

  Passing a slate among them, she encouraged them to jot down any words that were unfamiliar to them. If they couldn't write them, they were told to raise their hands.

  The story immediately caught their fancy, and the children listened raptly to her voice. At the end of the chapter, they discussed the words and sought the meanings.

  Reluctantly Caroline put down the book.

  "I'm afraid that's all the time we have today."

  Jack and several of the older boys looked up hopefully, and she knew they were eager to return home and finish their chores. Several of the younger students, however, seemed actually sorry to see the day end.

  Caroline accompanied them to their horses, carts and wagons and waved as they rolled from the school yard and followed the many trails home.

  Then she returned to the classroom and tidied up. As she straightened chairs and pulled the door shut, she looked around the empty room and felt tears mist her eyes. Her first day as a teacher. Hugging her arms around herself, she sank into her chair. She had loved it. Loved every minute of it.

  Miss Caroline Adams, teacher. Respectable member of the town of Hope, Texas.

  Lady.

  Lowering her face to her hands, she gave in to the desire to weep.

  Then, chiding herself for her weakness, she got to work.

  Caroline opened the door between the schoolroom and her cabin. She had spent the past hour preparing for the following day's lessons, and her mind was filled with words, sums and challenges for young minds.

  Now, however, it was time to think about what she would fix for her supper.

  As she closed the door, she paused. Something was amiss, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

  She sniffed the air. The unmistakable hint of sweet pipe tobacco lingered.

  It was a scent she would never forget. Suddenly, she felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to rise.

  Through eyes wide with fear she peered around. The table and chairs were exactly as she'd left them. A vase of wildflowers was resting in the middle of the table. A few petals had scattered, as though disturbed by a gust of wind. But the door had been closed. Had she latched it before going into the schoolroom? She couldn't recall.

  She'd been so eager, so excited about the first day of school.

  Would she have heard someone come in during the day? She thought about the sounds of children's voices and laughter. It would have been an easy matter for someone to enter this side of the cabin without being heard in the schoolroom.

  She crossed to the fireplace. The ashes, now cool since the morning's fire, dusted the hearth. They, too, had been scattered by a sudden breeze.

  Circling the room, she ran a hand over the small table beside her bed where she kept a pitcher of water and a basin. Pausing beside the bed, she noticed a wrinkle in the quilt. She touched a finger to the spot and felt something hard under the covers.

  Her throat went very dry. For a moment she couldn't move. Then, pulling back the bed covers, she stared at the small, deadly weapon and jumped back, frozen with fear.

  Tentatively she moved closer and forced herself to pick up the knife.

  The hilt was still warm; the blade icy cold.

  The first time she'd seen it, it had been pressed to her mother's throat.

  She had no doubt the knife had been left here for a reason. Someone wanted to send her a message. A message that left her no doubt as to its meaning.

  She hadn't escaped her past, after all. It had followed her all the way to Texas. She dropped the knife and raced across the room to latch the door.

  "I think this is the best group of mustangs yet," Thad said, leaning on the top rail of the corral.

  "They are twelve beauties," Manuel agreed.

  Thad secured the gate and paused to admire the day's roundup.

  The horses milled about, sending up a cloud of dust. But when Thad and Manuel forked hay over the rail and filled a trough with water, the mustangs settled down to eat.

  "That reminds me," Thad said, glancing at Manuel, "have we eaten today?"

  ' "Not since early morning. I thought about it many times, but you were always too busy chasing just one more mustang."

  "Yeah, there always seems to be just one more mustang," Thad remarked with a laugh.

  The two men led their horses toward the barn. A few minutes later they headed to the house. Inside, while Rosita finished cooking supper, they washed, then took their places at the table.

  At the sound of a horse and wagon approaching, Thad looked up from his meal and scraped back his chair. Minutes later, when Caroline rode up, he was standing on the porch,
a rifle in his hand.

  Her cheeks, he noted, were brighter than usual.

  "Is this a social call.

  Teacher, or did you come to give me a lesson? " " I--need to ask a favor." She stepped down from the wagon.

  He watched the sway of her hips as she came toward him and his mind was flooded with thoughts and images that, if revealed, would make her blush. He reminded himself that that kind of thinking always seemed to lead to trouble between them.

  "Well, favor or no, it's neighborly of you to come calling. You're just in time for supper."

  With his hand beneath her elbow he escorted her to the door.

  "No. You don't understand. I have no time..." She caught sight of the beautiful young woman lifting a piece of crockery from the fireplace and words failed her.

  "I didn't know ... I mean, I didn't realize..."

  Embarrassed and awkward, she looked from the young woman to Thad, then back to the woman.

  "Rosita, this is the new schoolteacher, Caroline Adams. Caroline, this is Rosita Alvarez."

  Caroline nodded stiffly at the smiling woman.

  "And this is her husband, Manuel."

  For the first time Caroline turned her head and noted the handsome young man seated at the table. At his warm smile she visibly relaxed.

  "It's nice to meet you." Turning to Thad, she said softly,

  "I need to talk to you."

  "All right. We'll talk over supper."

  "I mean alone."

  He guided her across the room and held a chair.

  "As soon as we've eaten."

  When she started to refuse he said curtly,

  "Manuel and I haven't eaten since breakfast. And let me warn you, after the work we've done today, we could eat a mule without bothering to skin it first."

  "I'm sorry." Taking the chair he indicated, Caroline watched as the men tucked into their meal. At Rosita's insistence, Caroline spooned some of the meat mixture from the crock and tasted it. It was hot, spicy and delicious.

  She'd forgotten how hungry she was. Now, while the others enjoyed their meal, she decided to do the same, since Thad was obviously not going to give her a minute of his time until he'd satisfied his own hunger.