Wildstar

"You don't have to," Devlin replied, his expression grim. "If I hadn't been careless, they never would have gotten close enough to use that dynamite."

"You mean if I hadn't been careless," Jess said quietly. "You don't have to take the blame for my mistakes, Dev­lin. You weren't even on duty yet."

An oppressive silence settled over the small group.

"'Well." Flo exclaimed, breaking the sudden tension. "Give me a hug, Jess, and then let's get you back home and put to bed. There's a pile of work that sure isn't gettin' done on it's own."

Devlin's jaw tightened at Flo's insensitivity. Remind-ing Jess of unfinished work was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. She certainly didn't need to be burdened with the boardinghouse after she'd nearly lost her life. But going to sleep in the middle of the day was against her religion, it seemed, and she protested with automatic vehemence.

"Mebbe you should, Jessie," Clem observed. "You look plum wore out. Mebbe you oughta have that sawbones Wheeler take a look at you."

"I'll be all right! I don't need Doc Wheeler, and I don't need to be pampered."

You do, angel, Devlin thought. I've never seen any woman who needed it more.

"You'll go to bed, Jess," her father said in his sternest voice. "You've done enough. Clem's staying to shore up the mine entrance, and we're going home."

Wearily, looking as if she hadn't the energy to fight, Jess gave in. She helped Clem get Riley resettled in the back of the buckboard, while Flo climbed into the driver's seat.

Devlin collected the horses he and Jess had ridden last night and followed, feeling a smoldering rage at Burke and a disgust at his own unfamiliar helplessness. Despite all his experience with the opposite sex, he didn't quite know how to deal with this situation, with Jess. He'd felt her withdrawal the moment they'd awakened, but he hadn't known the right thing to say to ease the tension, the awk­wardness. For once he'd been bereft of words. At a time

when it had never seemed more important to strike just the right note.

In spite of all his past affairs and involvements, he had never experienced anything quite like the fierce ecstasy of helping Jess blossom from an innocent girl into a sensual, sexually responsive woman. He'd felt such an overwhelm­ing rush of tenderness, his heart ached with it. He hadn't expected, either, the sweet languor of lying woven to­gether afterward. Usually he merely tolerated such close­ness from his lovers; women needed the reassurance of being held in the aftermath of passion, and he was nothing if not considerate of his bed partners. Yet he hadn't known how to handle Jess—her shyness, her uncertainty, her re­gret.

Nor had he known how to silence the warning bells clanging in his head. He was getting in too deep with Jess, Devlin realized with a feeling close to panic. He was run­ning the risk of letting his heart get sliced up again, by a young woman who'd never given even the slightest hint that her affections might be engaged- In fact, Jess seemed determined to forget that last night had ever happened.

He couldn't forget, though. Not the sweetness of her passion, or his own guilt. He had taken her innocence, the innocence she should have saved for her husband. There was also the possibility that he had made her pregnant.

He tried to tell himself there had been extenuating cir­cumstances last night. He'd warned Jess she would feel differently in the morning, and he'd done his best . . . al­most his best. . . to refuse her. But she hadn't listened. In­stead, she'd insisted she knew what she was doing. And he'd wanted to believe her. She was old enough to know what she wanted. . . .

There was no need for him to flay his conscience, re­ally. He was blowing this out of proportion. Jess had been terrified and had turned to him for human comfort and as­surance, that was all. And he had offered it.

So why then did he feel guilty as hell? And why was he running scared?

It took two hours for Flo to get Jess cleaned up and fed and put to bed in her own bedroom. For the entire two hours Devlin found himself fighting the urge to send Flo away and take over. He wanted to be the one caring for Jessica. And that was the problem. He already cared too much.

His fierce possessiveness shouldn't have surprised him. It was perfectly reasonable that he should feel protective of Jess after all that had happened between them. But he didn't have the right to perform such intimacies as bathing her or tucking her into bed. Not unless he intended to make it a lifetime commitment by offering to become her husband—and he wasn't willing to risk suffering that kind of pain again. And so he took his own bath and shaved and dressed, and then joined Riley in the kitchen to eat the breakfast Flo had prepared.

As soon as Jess had fallen asleep, Flo left for the boardinghouse. Jessica's father sat at the kitchen table, not touching his food. He wasn't in dire physical pain, Devlin was convinced. Riley could get around if he moved slowly, and his injured body seemed to have held up under the strain of trekking up the mountainside and the terrible wait to find out if his daughter was alive. But his con­science was another story. He looked like a man at the end of his rope.

Respecting the man's privacy, Devlin finished eating in silence, then leaned back in his chair, nursing a cup of cof­fee.

"I nearly got her killed," Riley said finally, to no one in particular. He dropped his head in his hands.

Devlin held his tongue, unwilling to argue the point. Sommers's past determination to hold on to his mine at all costs had led to a feud that was now out of control. Last night he had nearly paid a dear price for his single-mindedness. The question was whether he considered the price too dear.

Devlin had already decided what action he would take regarding Burke—he'd had a long time to think about it while trapped in the Wildstar with Jess—but he wanted to be certain he hadn't been mistaken in his judgment of Riley Sommers.

Sommers didn't let him down.

"I'm gonna sell out to Burke, like he wanted. I'll go down and file for a quit claim deed tomorrow morning."

"You're going to give up now?"

"I've got to," Riley said hoarsely, wearily. "I can't risk my daughter's life any longer. If it was just me . . . But Jess . . . I can't do it. I should never have let it drag on this long."

"What would you say if I could get Burke and his hired guns to back off?"