The Savage

Chapter 17

When her father was still alive, the barn had been filled with livestock—Sky Valley’s prize thoroughbreds primarily, but also broodmares and milk cows and saddle mounts of visiting guests. Now the large stone structure stood two-thirds empty. The days of the gay house parties that went on for days had ended with the start of the war, and racers were an expense the ranch could ill afford. Those animals that couldn’t earn their keep had been sold, and the three remaining stallions had been turned loose on the range to mix their blood with the smaller, hardier mustang mares in hopes of gaining the best of both breeds.

Lance’s horse was the same roan that had carried him from Belknap into Indian territory and back, Summer saw when her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, which meant he must have ridden straight here. It had been tied in a stall near the center, rather than turned out in the corrals with the working horses of the remuda.

There was no immediate sign of Lance, but she noticed the saddlebags draped over the stall side rail. If they were his, he must have picked them up on his way through the kitchen.

Just then he came out of the tack room behind her, hefting his saddle. He didn’t look at her as he brushed past her silently, but his jaw was set in a rigid line. He slung the saddle over the rail, then threw a blanket pad over the roan’s back. He meant to ride off, she was certain. Unless she could prevent him.

Summer took a step toward him, then stopped uncertainly, twisting her hands together in regret and shame. How could she have hurt him so? No matter how unintentional, she had shattered his pride, delivered a devastating blow to a man who had only pride to sustain him against a white world that had always tried to beat him down.

“Lance…please, don’t go. Please?”

When he glanced briefly over his shoulder at her, she almost flinched at the hostility in his eyes. “Don’t go? What the hell did you expect me to do? Stay there with your sister screaming at me to get out? With her looking at me like she expected me to rape her? With you telling her what a great sacrifice you made for her?”

The fury, the bitterness, in his tone lashed out at her like a whip, cutting her as she had cut him. Summer couldn’t defend herself, either, not against the bald truth.

He shook his head. “It’ll be easier to calm her if I’m not around,” he muttered bitterly. “If she doesn’t have to be afraid of the murdering breed.” His chin dropping to his chest, he shut his eyes, as if weary of fighting.

Watching him, Summer felt a fierce ache well up in her throat. He seemed to her at that moment to be utterly alone, utterly desolate.

But how could she expect him to be otherwise? She thought about the crushing life of rejection he’d endured as a child, so bleak, so without hope. How had he borne it? How had he come through it with his soul intact? Lance was proud and hard and harsh-tempered, yes, but he was a good man, too, worthy of respect and loyalty. He didn’t deserve the grim fate that life had thrown at him. He should have someone to stand up for him—and she desperately wanted to do it, to let him know that he wasn’t alone anymore. He needed to know…

“Lance…you don’t have to leave.”

He stiffened, and seemed abruptly to remember her presence. His head jerking up, he threw another fierce glance over his shoulder. “You’re damned right about that. I hate to break it to you, princess, but I’ve got no intention of leaving this ranch. I’m going back to the livery and get my things and make arrangements for Nate to take over full-time. Then I’m coming back here. You’re stuck with me, princess.

“Don’t worry,” he added harshly before she could reply. “I’ll bunk with the vaqueros. I’ll spare your sister the horror of living with an Injun right now, until she gets better, but I’ll be damned if I’ll be driven off like five years ago! I’m sure as hell not gonna crawl out of here with my tail between my legs like last time. I’m staying. You’re my wife, whether you like it or not.”

Wincing, Summer clenched her fingers together to keep from reaching out to him. Did he think she was trying to be free of their marriage? But of course he would. She had left Belknap so abruptly, betraying her promise to him, even though she hadn’t wanted to. After that, he wasn’t likely to believe she hadn’t seen an opportunity to be rid of him. And her declaration about sacrifice would only have confirmed his suspicions.

But he was wrong, Summer reflected. She considered herself honor-bound to live up to her end of the bargain. No matter how difficult it would be for her to live as the wife of a half-breed Comanche, she would see it through. In all honor, she couldn’t go back on her word. Yet obviously she needed to reassure Lance of that. She took a step closer, carefully choosing her words.

“Lance…what I said a moment ago…I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I was only attempting to make Amelia acknowledge what we both had done for her. I…I did sacrifice for her, it’s true. But I would do it again if it meant saving her life, if it meant keeping my family together, keeping this ranch together. I don’t regret my decision. I don’t regret marrying you, Lance.”

His bronzed features turned hostile again. “Don’t lie to me, Summer! You can’t tell me you’re not ashamed of me—of being married to a breed.”

That wasn’t entirely true. She was afraid of what the future held, yes. And she was ashamed of the wanton way Lance made her feel. But she wasn’t ashamed of him.

“No,” she asserted with as much fervor as her unsteady voice would allow. “I’m ashamed of my sister’s behavior, of my own, but I’m not ashamed of you, not at all. I’m grateful to you.”

“I don’t want your goddamned gratitude!”

“Then…what do you want?”

He was silent for a moment, and when he answered finally, his voice was so low, she could scarcely hear. “I want you to honor our wedding vows.”

He stood waiting with that bleak stillness, waiting for one more rejection, expecting a response she wouldn’t give.

“I mean to, Lance.”

He turned to look at her, his face hard and still, his eyes narrowed and burning. “Your sister’s safe,” he reminded her. “You don’t need me any longer. You’ve got no reason to remain my wife.”

“I won’t break my word.”

“No?” The word was a cynical drawl. “Why should I believe that?”

“Because it’s true,” Summer said simply.