Tabor came halfway from behind the tree. Chapman leveled the gun at his chest and pulled the hammer back. He laughed again. “I like to see a man die sweatin’,” he said. “Git over here, gal,” he ordered Lilah. “You’re gonna watch this too.”
Tabor waited until Chapman’s gaze was diverted to Lilah. Quicker than a jackrabbit, he dropped to one knee and with his left hand drew his second revolver. The bullet ripped through Chapman’s right wrist. The gun flew from his hand and went off at the same time. Chapman’s wild bullet grazed Tabor’s neck and sent him spinning to the ground behind the tree.
Blood oozed from Chapman’s wound. Seeing that Tabor was down, Chapman used the moment to dash for his horse. Getting astride was a struggle, but fear gave him strength. He didn’t try to recover his lost gun but rode out as if the devil had called his name.
“Sweet Jesus,” Lilah whispered, rising on trembling legs to her feet.
She heard Tabor moaning and hurried through the brush to him. He had his hand on his neck and blood streamed from beneath his fingers. Her tears ran as freely as, amid sobs, she stepped out of one of her petticoats and ripped it down the seam and into strips. She folded the cleanest strips, making one into a pad and then, prying his fingers loose, tied a bandage around his neck.
“Lilah?” His voice was weak.
“It’s me,” she said. His face was as white as the cloth she had tied on him. She couldn’t think of anything else to do but cradle his head in her lap and wipe the droplets of sweat from his brow.
Tabor closed his eyes, though it was difficult not to keep looking at Lilah falling out of her open camisole and bending her care-softened face over him. The wound wasn’t too bad. He was sure the bullet had only nicked a vein and that the bleeding would soon stop. He hated to admit it, but he thought he was more scared than hurt—not for himself, but because he had come so close to getting Lilah killed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching for her hand and not finding it.
“Don’t be sorry,” she said, catching his hand in the air and lacing it with hers. “He’s gone and we’re both alive.” Her voice was soft and comforting as a lullaby. “I’m not hurt and I think you’re going to be all right after you’ve rested.”
“Lilah, Lilah,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I brought you out here and put you in danger.” His dark eyes blinked open. “Did he touch you? Did he rape you? I’ll hunt him down and kill him for it,” he said savagely.
Lilah trembled. She didn’t know where she got the insight to explain to Tabor about Chapman. “He wanted to rape me. I don’t think he could. Something...something is wrong with him. He got raving mad when I couldn’t make it...happen for him. He told me about horrible things he’s done to other women. He’s a horrible man. He’s crazy.” Her voice became more agitated. “He talked about using me to get something from Papa. A ransom, I suppose.”
Tabor moaned. He had thought of Chapman as a nuisance at their first meeting and had thought he’d seen the last of him. But Chapman was crazy, as Lilah said. He wanted that worthless claim Tabor’s father had left to Clement Damon.
Or was that it? Maybe the land wasn’t worthless and Chapman knew it and was willing to kill to get it. He should have warned Clement before, but he had thought Chapman was just another prospector who had lost touch with what was real. Tabor laboriously closed his eyes again and decided he wouldn’t tell Lilah about the claim. She was half-scared out of her wits now. But as soon as he got to the ranch he would wire Clement of the danger.
“I’m better, Lilah.” Tabor pushed himself up on his elbows. “Let’s get out of here and find a better place to spend the night.”
“Spend the night?” She thought of the campfire and the secure berth beneath the wagon. She thought of Sarah’s kind eyes. “Aren’t we going back to the camp?”
“We can’t,” he said, saddened to hear the anguish in her voice. “My horse is spent and I doubt yours is up to carrying two. Chapman won’t be back. We’ll start off at first light, meet Sarah and the boys down the trail.”
Lilah shuddered at the mention of Chapman’s name. She was afraid to close her eyes for fear of seeing that twisted face and thinking of what he had wanted from her.
Tabor struggled to his feet. Lilah shuffled up after him, tying together the few intact ribbons of her camisole. She walked gingerly behind Tabor as he got her horse and led the animal down the trail to where his mount was tied. All the while, she had to keep her fingers tightened to a fold of his shirt; she couldn’t bear the aloneness she felt if the hold broke. To her it seemed a miracle Tabor had come looking for her.
“How did you find me? How did you even know to look?” she asked softly.
With Lilah at his side, Tabor unsaddled and unbridled the horses and hobbled their feet. He wanted them to graze and have enough freedom to reach the small brook below the rise they were on.
“I was awake. I saw you leave the camp. When you didn’t come back right away, I followed you. I found your boots by the stream, then saw two sets of tracks.”
Lilah placed her arm on his, finding strength in renewing the bond. “I’m glad you went looking,” she said.
“Me too,” he answered, feeling his voice quiver as he closed his hand over hers. “Chapman’s a nasty piece of goods. I’m sorry I didn’t kill him.”
Lilah’s brow lifted at the hatred she heard in his voice. Tabor thought the gesture indicated another question. “My aim’s not so good with my left hand,” he explained. “Guess I ought to be glad Chapman’s memory wasn’t so good about what kind of hardware I had.”
“He won’t come back, will he?” Lilah’s heart leapt to her throat.
Tabor assured her they would be safe. “Not tonight. I hope never. He’s hurt bad. The wound is going to keep him down for a while, probably ruin his gun arm.” Tabor led her away from the horses and spread a blanket for her, then walked a few more feet and spread another. “Just the same, we won’t build a fire.”
Lilah looked at the big gulf of blackness separating the two blankets. Tabor’s interest in her might not be admirable, but he had cared enough to chance his life for her. That was a precious gift from one human being to another. Tonight it was enough to make her forget all the harsh things she felt toward him.
She spoke just above a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone, Tabor.”
Now it was his heart that caught in his throat. He could see her eyes shining in the moonlight and wished what he read in them meant more than that she was afraid of Chapman. Without saying anything he picked up his blanket and brought it back to hers. They didn’t have long to sleep. The sun would be up in less than two hours. After that there was a long ride to catch up with Sarah. She curled up on the blanket. Tabor eased down beside her. Needing more than just knowing he was near, Lilah placed her arm over his chest.
Tabor stared up at the stars, feeling heat radiate from the place she touched. But he knew that link was only for the assurance she wasn’t alone. He wanted her, but she had seen the ugliest side of a man tonight. What she needed most was someone to trust.
* * *
Big pink cabbage clouds caught the early rays of the sun. Lilah awoke to the wonder of dawn and for the first few minutes found last evening’s nightmare washed from her mind. Without thinking that Tabor’s shoulder formed her pillow, she folded herself closer against his side. Her arm still stretched across his chest and one leg rested partially on his thigh.
No shadows lay across her heart in this most glorious time of day. She liked mornings because the day was yet untainted by any of the little sorrows and heartaches that might become a part of it. Dawn was hope, and this one, which she had never believed she would see, was to be cherished. And the man beside her, because he had given her this dawn and all those that would follow, was special too. For now she could bask in the glow of the rising sun, free of resentments, old wounds healed. She owed Tabor Stanton her life, and though they might never again have such a bond between them, today it was there.
How ironic that she had thought Tabor an intemperate, even malicious man. Now that she knew Judd Chapman, Tabor’s vices seemed minimal. If too assertively so, he at least demanded nothing that hadn’t been promised him. She breathed a soft sigh. The promise, the bet, the debt she owed him—of how little value that was compared with her life.
Like the heat of the sun on her skin, a warm flow of emotions coursed through her veins; a haze of them clouded in her mind. Last night his nearness had soothed her into a quick slumber. She trusted Tabor, perhaps because he made no pretense about what he wanted from her. His honesty, if nothing else, she could appreciate.
The anguish over Chapman had left her the moment he lay down beside her. With sleep-heavy eyes she studied the tanned handsome face so near her own. A heavy black shadow covered the jaw and chin, but the strong lines were evident. His brow was smooth as he rested, his lashes sooty and surprisingly long. She thought she liked his mouth best. It was expressive, a quick signal of his mood. She had seen it set in a hard line and she had felt the gentleness of it against her lips.
Tabor. Tabor Stanton. She twirled the name in her mind as if it were a new one to her thoughts. How had they come to be here, alone together, stripped of all the ordinary human barriers between a man and woman? She felt a curious pull at her heart and mind, as if some thread of understanding should be spun between them. But it was too much to ask of herself when there were so many other mysteries to solve. The sight of him awakened the flames within her, made her want to be someone besides the sedate and proper Lilah Damon. Why was it that only he could quench that fire? That was the thing she had to know. Why?
Tabor saw her eyes, still misted with sleep, open, blue and trusting in the daylight. If she knew how much he longed for her and how much restraint it had taken for him to lie there all those hours enduring the sleep moves and soft caresses she gave, she might be as afraid of him as she was of Chapman.
After a few minutes she saw him watching. He smiled. The ordeal she had been through didn’t show in the soft beauty of her face. Her hair, shining like the sun’s own gold, hung in loose tangles on her forehead and across her throat. The blue satin ribbons adorning her camisole hung in loops against her ivory skin. He longed to touch her, longed to hold her, to calm the turbulence he felt inside.
“We ought to go,” he said, unable to control the huskiness in his voice. He started to ease himself from beneath her.
“Don’t. Not yet,” she whispered, feeling all restraint fall away. “Stay here.”
She owed him a debt. She was anxious and ready to begin paying. She would give Tabor his week, be the wanton woman he desired. For him she would be Delilah, in body, in mind. She would be all he expected Delilah to be, but she would do it on her terms, not his. And when it was over, she would go back to being Lilah Damon, go back to living within her proper upbringing. Tabor would keep her secret. She knew him well enough now to be confident of that.
There was one worry, though. She knew, too, he was a man who would insist upon doing right by a girl he had spoiled. That she couldn’t have. He must never know Delilah the seductress, the siren, existed only in the fancy of her audience.
Lilah smiled softly. Early in her first tour she had let herself listen to Carrie, a jaded saloon girl, bemoaning the ways of men. How her ears had tingled hearing the things a man did with a woman. But she had needed to know if she was to convincingly present herself as a tasty tart. So she had asked the ways that pleased, the ways that excited a man, and Carrie had told her in infinite detail. Tabor Stanton and all California believed Delilah an expensive courtesan. She would make sure that when a week had passed, Tabor believed it still.
There was the problem of her maidenhead. But Carrie said no matter how sweet a man talked or how gentle he started, he knew nothing but his own rutting need when he took a whore.
Would Tabor be different? She hoped so. Somehow it mattered very much that he would. What a quandary. But she couldn’t have it both ways. She would have to hope all the myths, all the warnings matronly women gave to young girls were wrong, and that virginity was not such an evident thing that a man really knew if he was the first.
“Lilah,” Tabor answered after a moment, “I don’t think I can stay here. A man can’t stay so close to a woman without wanting to bed her, especially one as beautiful as you.” His voice broke with huskiness. “I said I wouldn’t rush you. Don’t make me a liar.”
She shook her head gently and spoke from her heart, without thinking, without hearing that her words were not those of a worldly woman. Her fingers slid into the thatch of dark curls on his chest. Her eyes were luminous with desire.
“Show me how beautiful it can be, Tabor,” she pleaded. “I need to know. I have to know or I’ll be afraid from now on.”
Anger ripped through him, but he kept it hidden. She was thinking of Chapman and the perverted things he had threatened her with. It was enough to make a woman afraid to ever give herself to a man again. Once more he wished his bullet had struck the mark. But looking into Lilah’s face, he forgot Chapman. Gently he rolled to his side so that her body molded to his, eyes and lips only inches apart.
“Do you know what you’re asking?”
“I know. I know you saved my life.”
“Lilah.” A pain squeezed his heart as he whispered her name. Did she think she had to repay him for that? Did she think she had to repay him with her body? Was that what he had shown her of himself? He thought of his demands on her; he supposed it was. “I don’t want you out of gratitude,” he said sadly. “I never would have forced you to go through—”
She stroked his lips with her fingers, silencing him.
“It isn’t gratitude, though I feel that too. It’s more. I know being close to you makes me feel warm and safe. That may not last. Maybe when we leave here everything will be like it was yesterday on the trail. But this time, this hour, is outside all that. I want you, Tabor,” she whispered. “I want you to make love to me. I want it to be beautiful.”