The Savage

“He was the one who found her, wasn’t he?”

Summer sighed. “Of course. I could never have done it on my own. He risked his life for her twice, Reed. But she hates him because he’s part Comanche.”

Reed turned to watch Amelia get swept into the house by the Mexican women. “I’m not sure I understand. Where is he?”

“On his way home by now, I hope. He had to drive some horses north in payment for his brother’s help. The next stage was supposed to leave from Belknap today. If he caught it, he should be here in a few days.”

Her brother suddenly scowled up at her. “You traveled all that way alone? Without an escort?”

“I didn’t have any choice. Melly was determined to come home, and I couldn’t change her mind. I don’t think even you could have persuaded her. But it wasn’t too dangerous, Reed, truly. The stage drivers are Lance’s friends, and they looked out for us.” When her brother’s frown didn’t diminish, Summer gave him an imploring look. “Don’t be angry. I couldn’t refuse her, Reed. She was hurt badly by the Comanches, and her nerves were fragile enough to snap. I had to risk it.”

“All right.” Reed closed his eyes for a moment, his agony showing on his face. “Oh, God…poor Melly.”

“Don’t think about it. It’s over, she’s safe now. We’ll have to help her go on with her life.”

“We’ll have to help her heal, won’t we?”

“Yes,” Summer agreed softly.

He reached up to help her down from the buckboard, and then apparently remembered he was standing on only one leg. Cursing under his breath, he shook his head. “You’ll have to get down on your own, blast it.”

She flashed him a smile reminiscent of the old Summer as she climbed down. “I don’t mind fending for myself. If you’d seen all the chores I had to perform in the Comanche camp, you would have been astonished. I vow I developed muscles I never knew I had.” She gave a short laugh. “Lance doesn’t even call me princess much anymore.”

She saw the start Reed gave, saw his features tighten in a grim expression, but she waited until he had picked up his crutches before placing a restraining hand on his arm. Looking up at him imploringly, she held his gaze. “Reed, Lance is my husband now. We owe him a huge debt. You won’t forget that, will you?”

Her brother’s lips pressed together in a bleak line, but he nodded brusquely. “I know exactly what we owe him. And I feel obligated to honor the bargain you made with him—even if I think you made a deal with the Devil.”

She thought she would have to be satisfied with that disappointing answer, but Reed paused before turning toward the house. “Summer, I want you to know…I appreciate the sacrifice you’ve made for Amelia. And that…whatever you want to do…I’ll stand by you.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes shimmered. “That means a great deal to me.”

And it did, Summer realized as she matched her steps to her brother’s slower plod-hop. She didn’t think she had the strength to fight Reed as well as Amelia.

The coolness of the house was welcoming after the heat of the afternoon sun. Summer would have relished a refreshing glass of lemonade or a cup of water from the spring, but she could hear the murmur of voices coming from upstairs and knew Amelia must have retreated to the bedchamber they had shared as children. Excusing herself from Reed, she followed the sound.

As she climbed the stairs, though, she let her weary gaze drink in her surroundings, cherishing the familiar sights and smells of home.

Home. Memory closed around her and filled her with longing. How she wished things could be the same as they’d been before the war, when her brothers and father were still alive, when Reed and Amelia were still whole, when she herself had no decision more difficult to occupy her time than which party dress to wear and which beau to favor with her attention.

Those carefree days were gone. The uncertain future spread out before her like a murky swamp, with untold dangers to be negotiated, not the least of which was resolving her relationship with the man who was now her husband.

That man sat his horse the following afternoon, staring at the big white ranch house with uncertainty and resentment. Any pleasure Lance had felt at his own homecoming, any joy he’d found in being on Sky Valley land again, had faded at the prospect of entering that big house.

John Weston had taken two years and a small fortune to build it, determined to provide his large family with something better than the rough log cabin that had supported them when they first settled the land.

A familiar, cold heaviness swallowed Lance up as he sat there hesitating. He remembered being a kid gazing up at the fancy mansions in Austin, remembered his mother drawing him away as she gently explained why he would never be accepted in any of those fine homes. You aren’t like them, Lance. They can’t accept your Indian blood. They can’t accept me. But it doesn’t matter. We don’t need them. Not as long as we have each other. He remembered the anger that had burgeoned inside him, the anger that, like smoldering embers, only grew hotter. He remembered the savage hurt.

That pain hadn’t been as raw, though, as what he’d felt when he’d learned Summer had betrayed her promise to wait for him. She had left him to follow her, as if he were some sort of unwelcome afterthought.

Setting his jaw, Lance tore his gaze away and swung down from his horse. There was no point in waiting. He was here to lay claim to his wife, and nothing was going to stop him. And unlike five years ago, he wouldn’t be run off.

To his surprise, when he knocked he was admitted at once by a Mexican woman, just as if he’d been expected. He was shown into the front parlor and told that she would fetch the patrón if he would wait, por favor.

Left alone in such elegant surroundings, Lance belatedly removed his hat. He didn’t take a seat on the blue chintz settee or the velvet armchairs or even the wooden rocker. Not when he was so dusty and unshaven, with three days of trail dirt clinging to him. He hadn’t even taken the time to change clothes before riding out here to settle the issue of his marriage with his errant bride.

She and her sister had made it back unharmed, he’d learned from young Nate when he’d arrived at his livery in Round Rock. But once he’d known they were safe, the relief he’d felt had quickly been overshadowed by smoldering anger…and fear. Anger that Summer would risk making such a dangerous journey unprotected. Fear that she’d only used her sister’s condition as an excuse to be free of him.

His claim to Summer wasn’t indisputable, not by a long shot. Her sister was safe, and without that leverage, he had no real hold on her. If Summer wanted to disavow their marriage, she could do it. She could demand a divorce, and any judge in the land would grant it to her, Lance had no doubt. Certainly her family would have preferred it that way.