Читать книгу Whirlwind Cowboy - Debra Cowan - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Twin spots of color stained her cheeks. “Accomplice to a robbery? I wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?” he asked archly.

She bit her lip, stooping to look inside the saddlebags. Those innocent blue eyes widened.

Folding his arms, Bram took in the flush on her face, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the wild trip of her pulse in her neck. He was uncomfortably reminded of how long it had taken him to get the image of her in that chemise out of his mind.

“This is the work of your beau.”

She closed the pouch and stood. “How do you know? And how do you know the money is stolen?”

“Because my cousin Georgia and my uncle Ike were in Monaco’s bank when the robbery happened. They both saw Cosgrove’s face. Because of that, he shot them.”

“Oh, no!” In the dusky amber lamplight, the horror on her face seemed genuine. “Are they—”

“They’re alive, although I imagine Cosgrove thinks he killed them. He wouldn’t have knowingly left them breathing.”

“Why do you think I had anything to do with it?” She skirted the saddlebags. The defiance on her face was mixed with uncertainty. “I told you I don’t remember.”

“Yeah.”

“Did your kin see me in the bank, too?”

“No. You weren’t inside.”

“Then I wasn’t involved,” she concluded, looking hopeful.

“Maybe you were waiting outside with horses for a quick getaway.” He didn’t like that he could detect her fresh scent beneath that of the dirt that hung in the air.

She rubbed her temple, appearing surprised by the possibility. “I can’t believe I would do something like that.”

“You mean you don’t want to believe it.”

“Of course I don’t want to believe it! Would you?”

Bram recognized the challenging light in her eyes. “The length of time you rode and the direction from where you came all add up to you making the trip from Monaco. You either left Whirlwind with Cosgrove or met him somewhere. It makes sense to think you’d travel with him.”

“Maybe he was helping me get somewhere.”

“To Abilene for your job?” Bram could imagine how the bastard would’ve tried to “help” her. Still, Deborah was cooperating, so he kept that to himself. “If he meant to put you on a train or a stage, he could’ve done that at a few places before you ended up in Monaco. Maybe you wanted to stay with him.”

“You want to believe the worst of me.” Lifting a hand to her temple, she winced. “But you don’t know.”

“You had to be with him or nearby in order to have access to his horse. What I want to know is where did Cosgrove go?”

“And I’m telling you again that I don’t know,” she said hotly, grimacing.

Was her head hurting? Bram hadn’t forgotten how pained she’d looked tonight. For a while he’d thought that had been a ruse to get him to stop questioning her. Now he wasn’t sure. “Does it matter to you that people who counted you as a friend were hurt? That a man was killed?”

“Yes, it matters! But I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Maybe if you gave me more information.”

“Like what?”

Still touching her head, she thought for a moment. “How long have you been chasing this man?”

“Three weeks. From your house, I followed him east then south. I lost his trail at Buffalo Gap and returned home for a couple of weeks. Then my uncle sent a wire from Monaco saying that he and my cousin had been shot in a bank robbery. By Cosgrove. Monaco is west of here. My brother and I started tracking him from there. Jake went the opposite direction, but when I found Cosgrove’s horse in the barn here, I thought I’d found him.”

She lowered her hand. “Instead, it was me.”

He nodded.

“I swear I don’t know anything about that money, even though it appears I was with him.” Her features were drawn tight in the dustspeckled light. “But why do I have the money? Why didn’t he take it?”

Bram huffed out a frustrated breath. “The law is looking for Cosgrove. He could’ve given the money and his horse to you, sending anyone who followed in another direction. That’s a good way to throw the posse off his trail.”

Paling further, she put her hand to her head again. “Oh.”

“The bastard must be expecting to meet up with you somewhere to get the money. I went through his saddlebags looking for a note or anything that might give me a clue as to where he might be, but I found nothing. I need you to give me some information.”

“Like what?”

“Where he went or if you’re meeting him.” Bram ignored his twinge of conscience at continuing to push her when she was plainly hurting. “If you heard him talk about any place.”

“How can I do that?”

“Try to recall where you were before you supposedly woke up with no memory.” He expected her to refuse him. Sure as hell wouldn’t be the first time.

“All right.” She closed her eyes, a look of intense concentration on her face. The wind moaned around the cabin and a branch or rock hit the front window.

Bram eased closer to Deborah. “Can you see yourself waking up behind that building?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you outside?”

“I don’t know.”

Bram reined in his impatience, recognizing that she was trying her best. “You said you heard a man yelling after you as you rode away. Did you hear anything else? Music? Wagons? A group of people? Gunshots?”

She opened her eyes. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Try harder.” When he saw her chin quiver, he softened his tone. “It’s important.”

Pain darkened her eyes and after a long moment, she said, “I don’t recall hearing anything else.”

“You say you didn’t get a look at the man?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you recall ever seeing a man about six feet tall, muscular build, with dark hair and dark eyes? He likely would’ve been wearing fancy clothes. Tailored and expensive.”

She looked disappointed and half-spent, with deep lines etching her brow. Her pink-and-white skin had a waxy cast. “I really want to help you, but I just can’t remember.”

Wondering if he should back off, Bram dragged a hand across his nape, sick to death of the smell of dirt. “Okay, you woke up behind a two-story building. Could it have been a hotel?”

“Yes,” she said excitedly, brushing the dust from the sleeves of her dress. “That’s very possible.”

It wasn’t much, but at least Bram could wire the Monaco sheriff and ask him to find out if Cosgrove had registered at any of the local hotels. Chances were slim Bram would learn anything, but right now this was all he had. It was worth checking.

He realized then that Deborah had closed her eyes again. As long seconds went by, her delicate features grew bleak and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Was she in that much pain? The realization shook him. His insistent questions were taking a toll. Bram couldn’t deny that.

“You can stop. I can tell your head hurts when you try and remember.”

She looked at him, distraught. Outside, the wind whistled around the cabin. Her voice was thick with tears and she sounded slightly panicked. “There’s no memory of anything before I woke up. I’m sorry.”

Her obvious discomfort tugged at him. “I believe you.”

“You do?”

The relief that spread across her face made him ashamed of how hard he’d prodded her. Hell, he’d bullied her, plain and simple.

The blows she’d suffered had obviously been forceful enough to cause her to lose her memory. He had no idea if it was permanent or not. He’d never even heard of such a thing, but he did believe her.

Which meant she couldn’t help him. He would have to find another way to get to Cosgrove.

He believed her. Finally.

Deborah was surprised at the measure of relief that brought. For the first time since regaining consciousness in Monaco, she didn’t feel completely alone.

Still, she really needed to remember. Not for Bram, but for herself.

Hours later, instead of sleeping, Deborah wondered how entangled she was with this Cosgrove character.

The wind whined in the background. Had she participated in that bank robbery in any way? Were there other illegal activities she might have been party to? Right now she had no answers.

Though all the excitement and fear of the day had left her exhausted, she had trouble falling asleep. Maybe because of Bram’s accusations or maybe just because of the man himself. For someone she couldn’t remember, he sure had an effect on her. He made her nervous. And giddy. When she tried to remember him, an unsettling heat spread through her.

Thinking about it, about him, made her head hurt and she’d had enough of that.

The wind buffeted the cabin, hurling dirt and pebbles against the walls like hail. She shook out the sheet before pulling it over her head and closing her eyes. She tried to slow her thoughts so she could get some rest.

After a short time, a dark mist engulfed her and she thought she felt someone touch her. A warm heavy hand, a glimmer of an image and then—

“Deborah!”

She jerked awake to find Bram shaking her. He sat on the side of the bed, concern in his eyes.

Watery daylight flowed into the windowless room through the open bedroom door. A fine layer of dust covered the floor and the bedclothes. One of Bram’s big hands rested on her left shoulder, setting off a flutter of sensation in her belly. Was his the touch she’d felt in her sleep?

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re crying.”

She sat up, her movement stirring the dirt on the sheet. Her mind scrambled through a tangle of emotions—terror, loss, unease. Why was she crying?

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Until now, she hadn’t realized. “Yes.”

With trembling hands she pushed her hair out of her face. A light sweat had her chemise clinging to her and she gulped in a big draft of dusty air. Oh, dear. She felt as if she were drowning, being pulled down into a seething mass of uncertainty.

A powerful sense of horror pressed in on her. The same horror she had felt when she’d woken behind that building. Swept by a wave of fear and panic, she reached out. One hand gripped Bram’s strong forearm. Her head dropped forward, brushing his wide hard chest.

He didn’t push her away or pull her close. He didn’t move at all. A sob jerked out of her. She wanted to be folded into those big arms. Just the strength in his body, the thud of his heart, calmed the panic tearing loose inside her.

How ridiculous. The man couldn’t abide her. Still, Deborah couldn’t make herself move away from him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.”

He sat stiffly, his voice hoarse. “What was the dream?”

She tried to recall it. A suffocating heaviness hovered on the edge of her mind, making her shudder.

“Deborah?” he asked quietly.

“I’m not sure. There was nothing, then … I was thrown into some kind of horror.” She stared down at her shaking hands. “It was awful, terrifying. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. There was a feeling of violence, something coming closer to me, then it was gone before I could tell what or who it was. I can’t make any sense of it.”

She shuddered, her voice muffled against his warm muscular torso. One of his big hands closed around her waist, steadying her. With his other hand, he lifted the far corner of the sheet and wiped her eyes.

She realized she was still crying.

“You okay?” The gruff worry in his voice made her want to snuggle into him. He moved his hand up her back, warm, reassuring, and cupped her shoulder.

Pain flared, causing her to flinch.

Bram jerked his hand away. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

She nodded, turning her head to look at her shoulder. “It’s sore.”

Before she could blink or check for herself, he nudged her hair aside and lifted her chemise strap. He cursed. “There’s a bruise here. A big bruise.”

She craned her neck to see. The mark was wide and bluish-black.

Bram studied it, too. “This must’ve happened at the same time as your other injuries.”

She looked up, startled to see how cold and hard his eyes were. “Do you think I fell? Or maybe was struck?”

A muscle flexed in his jaw as he shifted his gaze to the cut on her temple. “Hard to know for sure.”

His breath drifted warmly against her skin. Just his presence made her feel less shaky. She was overwhelmed with the urge to climb into his lap and huddle into his strength. It unsettled her how much she wanted that. Her grip tightened on the sheet.

The dark stubble along his jaw softened the rough angles of his face. She found herself staring at his mouth, trying to recall how it felt. Despite not remembering, she had no doubt they had kissed.

She became aware then that he was also staring at her mouth.

Before she realized what she was doing, she lifted her hand to his face and lightly touched the raw scar on his cheek.

Their gazes locked and in his she saw heat, hunger, then nothing. A chill crept over his face.

He gently but firmly removed her hand, then surged to his feet and moved to the door.

She tried to dismiss the sudden knifing sense of aloneness. He shouldn’t be the only one pulling away. She had rejected the man’s marriage proposal, after all.

“Do you think it was Cosgrove who hurt me? Just as he did you?”

“Most likely.” Bram’s gaze flicked to her face, then to her bruised shoulder. “I came in to let you know we can leave. The storm is over.”

The noise outside had stopped, she realized. “So, you’re taking me home?”

“Unless you don’t want to go.”

“Where else would I go?” She prayed her family wasn’t as angry at her as he was. “Do you think my family will welcome me back? If I hurt them as badly as I hurt you, they may never want to see me again.”

“They’ll be glad to see you.”

She tangled her fingers in the sheet she still held to her chest. “How far is my house?”

“Less than an hour’s ride from here.”

She was so close, yet she’d had no idea. She brushed the grit off her hands. “Can you tell me something about my family? So I won’t feel as if I’m meeting complete strangers.”

He hesitated, plainly reluctant to answer, but finally said, “You, your ma and sisters moved to Whirlwind to be near your brother, Jericho.”

Deborah nodded. “Why does my brother live here? Where did we move from?”

“You moved from Uvalde. Your brother came here tracking some outlaws and stayed because he fell in love and married a woman in

Whirlwind.”

“What else?”

He looked impatient. “I’m not sure what you want to know.”

“Anything. Please.”

“All of you kids were named after people in the Bible. Jericho is the oldest, seven years ahead of you. Jordan is two years younger than you, Michal a year behind her and Marah’s a year behind that.”

Deborah had hoped the information might spark some memory, but it didn’t. Her mind was still a blank slate. “You said my brother is married.”

Bram nodded, keeping his distance by staying at the door. “To a fine woman named Catherine. They have a baby girl, Evie.”

His gaze went again to her mouth, putting a tingle in her blood.

Earlier, when they had both studied her bruised shoulder and his face was close to hers, she had thought he was going to kiss her. She had wanted him to.

The admission had her squirming inside. It was disconcerting to have such feelings about a man she didn’t remember. Just how well did they know each other? Had they been intimate?

She couldn’t bring herself to ask. At least not yet.

She had no idea if her family would welcome her back, but anything would be better than being with Bram and dealing with this edgy anticipation. Wanting him. Because he certainly didn’t want her in return.

It was good that they were leaving the cabin. She needed some distance from him.

She flapped the sheet, sending a puff of dirt into the air. “Are you going to return the stolen money before taking me home?”

“No, I’m taking you back first.”

“What if Cosgrove comes looking for the money and me? You said you thought he would.”

“Oh, he will.” Suddenly his gaze turned speculative.

What was he thinking? Not understanding the flare of apprehension inside her, she studied him. “What should I do if that happens? If Cosgrove finds me?”

“You won’t need to worry about it.”

“Why not? You just said you thought he’d come looking.”

“He’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

She went still inside. “What do you mean?”

A slow, calculating smile spread across his face, causing a chill to ripple through her.

“When Cosgrove shows up, I’ll be waiting.” Bram stepped out of the bedroom, looking over his shoulder at her. “I’m going to be your shadow.”

Shadow? “For how long?”

“As long as it takes.” His gaze shifted back to her, almost as if he’d been talking to himself. “I’ll saddle the horses while you get dressed, then we’ll go.”

She nodded, staying on the bed as he walked out.

He was using her as bait.

Regardless of what they had been to each other in the past, that’s all she was to Bram now—a way to get to the man who had stolen from him, tried to kill him and his family.

How much time was she going to have to spend with him? Look how just the past twenty-four hours had gone. Now she was stuck indefinitely with a man she had refused to marry. A man who plainly resented her.

It didn’t bode well.