Читать книгу Whirlwind Reunion - Debra Cowan - Страница 9

West Texas, 1886

Matt Baldwin could go straight to perdition. Dr. Annalise Fine couldn’t stop the thought as she watched the dark, handsome, lowdown snake he had once loved. Who had once claimed to love her.

On a cool April night, she stood on the edge of the dance floor in the lobby of the Fontaine, the fancy hotel where his brother’s wedding celebration was underway. The big, rugged rancher hadn’t looked at her once. She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him.

Even though she had been back in Whirlwind, Texas, for two months, this was the first time she had set eyes on him. His wavy black hair was longer than she remembered ever seeing. Slightly ragged, it brushed the stand-up collar of his white dress shirt. The crisp fabric stretched across shoulders that were more broad than the last time she’d seen him. Touched him.

His frame was solid, hard, from the strong line of his sun-bronzed neck to the powerful thighs beneath his dark trousers. Trousers that fitted him so well they bordered on indecent. Her chest tightened painfully.

The notes of a waltz filled the air, swelling over the clink of glasses, conversation and dancers. She had known she would see Matt, and she had made herself come anyway. It was time to get it over and done with.

His brother, just as big and an inch taller, swept his dark-haired bride around the floor. Russ hadn’t stopped smiling since before the wedding.

Like Annalise, Matt’s father, J.T., wasn’t dancing tonight. An accident he’d suffered several months ago had left him crippled.

Cora Wilkes, a lifelong friend and now a widow, thanks to an outlaw gang, stood talking to him. Tall, with perfect posture, the older woman walked over to Annalise. Her hazel eyes twinkled as she sipped her second glass of champagne.

Annalise glanced at the big man, still surprised each time she saw him in the wheelchair. He had been a good friend to her father and to her, especially during the year she had cared for Hardy Fine before he died.

“Is Mr. Baldwin expected to walk again?” Annalise asked when Cora paused beside her.

“Dr. Butler first had hope, but now he isn’t sure. J.T. isn’t recovering the way the doctor had anticipated.” Cora’s face softened. “Has J.T. asked you to look at his leg? He said he might.”

“Not yet.” Considering the way his youngest son felt about her, Mr. Baldwin probably wouldn’t ask, regardless of their former friendship.

Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore Matt, and that had frustration churning in her belly.

As he escorted a curvy redhead into the dining room, Annalise noted with resentment that his rugged good looks hadn’t faded in the last seven years. If anything, he was more compelling. With those smoldering blue eyes, his was a face that had a woman sighing. Annalise should know; she’d done her share.

But there was more to him than just his looks. Beneath the easy charm, the slow drawl often mistaken for laziness, was a razor-sharp intellect and a keen instinct about people.

“I think I’m finally getting used to seeing your name over the medical clinic instead of your daddy’s,” Cora said. “Hardy would be so proud of you.”

She hoped so because Matt sure hadn’t been. He reappeared in the dining-room doorway, this time with an unfamiliar blonde, and Annalise jerked her gaze away to scan the lobby. The polished wood of the oak floor matched the large registration desk positioned to greet people when they walked through the double doors.

Russ and his wife, Lydia, had done a wonderful job with the hotel that had been built in the years Annalise had been gone. Pewter wall sconces above the moss-green sofas on either side of the desk burned continuously on gas lighting. The high ceilings and the staircase opposite the registration desk were accentuated with oak molding.

Annalise had known many of the people here since childhood: Davis Lee and Riley Holt, Bram and Jake Ross. Now all except Bram were married.

“Did you finalize the purchase of Jed Doyle’s house?” Cora asked.

“Yes.” Annalise smiled, thinking how perfectly it had worked out that the gunsmith had wanted to sell his house just as she had returned.

The frame building was exactly what she needed. She used the upstairs for her living quarters and the first floor for her medical clinic, the way Jed had used it for his gunsmithy.

“Have you seen any patients yet?”

“Several, and some people have dropped by to introduce themselves. Everyone has been welcoming.”

Except Matt. Annalise didn’t want a welcome from him. Which was good because she knew she could wait until hell froze over and she wouldn’t get one.

“Russ’s wife seems nice.” She smiled as the groom tugged the bride into his arms and kissed her. The resulting burst of applause surprised Annalise.

“Lydia’s very nice. Smart, too. She came here as Russ’s business partner. They both owned half of the Fontaine.” Cora chuckled, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the noise of the party. “She keeps him on his toes. I’m starting to wonder if Matt will ever settle down, and so is his pa. Especially now that Russ is married.”

Annalise’s stomach knotted. She didn’t want to talk about Matt settling down. She didn’t want to talk about him at all. She made a noncommittal noise.

Cora continued, “He’s with someone different every time I see him.”

Annalise could say the same. From the corner of her eye, she was well aware of Matt whirling a raven-haired beauty around the floor. Evidently the man who had once sworn to belong only to one woman—to her—no longer limited himself.

“Since J.T.’s accident, the running of the ranch has fallen mainly to Matt, and he’s heavily involved with the Stockraisers’ Association. A little too reckless in his quest to hunt down the rustlers that have been plaguing this area, but he won’t stop until he finds them.”

“I heard other ranches were losing cattle, too.” Frustratingly aware of the man who had broken her heart, she didn’t think she could stand here much longer.

Cora nodded. “The Ross ranch and Riley’s place. Between that and the women, Matt stays plenty busy, but he shows no signs of settling down.”

Lucky for women everywhere, Annalise thought uncharitably.

Cora slid a sideways look at her. “Y’all were sweet on each other once. Any chance—”

“No.” Annalise cut her off firmly, sharply. “None.”

“That’s a shame. I thought something might come of that.”

Something had. Heartache and a baby. Annalise’s throat closed up. And Matt had never responded to her letter about her miscarriage of their child. Not one word.

Her friend continued to talk about newcomers to the town, but Annalise’s nerves were stretched taut. Despite the open front door, the air in the room was stifling, as were the reminders of the past. She couldn’t take it any more.

She had stayed at least ten feet away from him all night and that was as close as she intended to get.

Having already given her congratulations to Russ and his wife, Annalise quietly said good night to Cora and threaded her way through the group gathered behind her at the foot of the oak-and-wrought-iron staircase. She reached the coat stands on the wall along the staircase and found her shawl.

Once outside, she took a deep welcome gulp of cool air. It felt good against her heated skin, bared by the square neckline of her jade-green silk bodice.

She swept the wrap around her shoulders and started off the hotel’s porch, looking down to pull the edges together. She saw a man’s boots at the same time she ran into a rock-hard chest. The momentum caused her to stumble.

Hard masculine hands shot out, cupped her shoulders. “Whoa, there.”

At the deep familiar rumble, the apologetic smile on her face faded. Her gaze jerked up, clashing with a hot blue one. Matt.

Her pulse stopped then resumed, beating so fast that her chest felt too small for her heart. The warmth in his eyes died, replaced with a cold flatness as he practically pushed her away. He dropped his hold so quickly, so forcefully that she had to take a step back to keep her balance.

A woman stood beside him, the same pretty blonde Annalise had seen with him earlier.

The other woman looked from Annalise to Matt. She slid her hand from his arm and nodded at Annalise. “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Good evening.” She was surprised to hear the words. Her throat felt as if it were bolted shut and wouldn’t work.

The blonde glanced at Matt. “I’ll wait for you inside.”

“No need,” he said harshly. “I’m coming with you.”

After another look at Annalise, the woman hurried around her. Who was she? She remembered Cora saying that a furious husband had confronted Matt last year and accused him of having an affair with his wife. Cora flat-out hadn’t believed it. But as Annalise stared into the face of the man she had once loved, a face she had once known as well as her own, she wasn’t so sure.

They stood there for a frozen moment, eyes locked. The world narrowed to her and him. The scent of man and sandalwood soap on the crisp winter air. The tiny lines of fatigue fanning out from his blue eyes, in the creases around his mouth.

When his lips tightened, she jerked her attention away from them. The stillness of the night and the muted music made it feel as though they were the only two people in the world. Thank goodness they weren’t.

Annalise hadn’t expected this feeling of suffocation. Of panic. The bone-squeezing pain in her chest.

His gaze slid indolently down her body, hungry and frankly sexual. A look that had been focused on her before. Just the memory made her shiver.

Then his expression changed to one of contempt. His eyes narrowed. He vibrated with anger. The realization had Annalise stiffening.

What did he have to be angry about? He was the one who had turned his back on her.

In the split second it took her to read his face, his eyes shuttered against her.

She was so furious she couldn’t breathe for a second. Before she could say anything, do anything, Matt stepped around her and onto the Fontaine’s porch. Pointedly, blatantly ignoring her. Turning his back on her again.

Enraged, she looked over her shoulder. “Ah, your back. The side of you I recognize so well.”

He went stock-still for a long moment, shoulders rigid, muscles coiled with tension.

She shouldn’t have said it, even though it was the truth. Breath suspended, she waited for his reaction.

He continued inside without a backward glance.

The blonde stood in the wide doorway of the hotel, flashing him a quick smile. “Who was that?”

“Nobody.” His voice was flat, brittle.

Pain slashed at Annalise. Angry tears stinging her eyes, she walked briskly toward her house at the opposite end of town.

Had she believed they could put the past behind them, even be civil? She knew better now. She made a sound low in her throat and walked faster. Just seeing him, being that close to him had caused her stomach to flutter. And her palms were sweating!

Even knowing she would eventually have to see Matt, she had left Philadelphia, come home to Whirlwind and reopened her father’s medical practice. But the sheer depth and agony of coming face to face with him had been more than she anticipated. Still, she had done it, gotten it over with.

There would be other times—they both lived here, after all—but she wouldn’t get that close to him ever again.

Annalise Fine had some damn nerve. Returning to Whirlwind. Showing her face at his brother’s party. Black fury drove through Matt. He wanted to hit something. Or someone.

Once inside the Fontaine, he left Willow in the dining room with Ef Gerard, the blacksmith, and his new wife, Naomi, then slipped out the hotel’s back door. His gaze settled blankly on the hotel’s laundry house some yards away.

Seething, he clenched his fists, unclenched them. He was burning to get his gun and shoot at something. He didn’t care what. Maybe the cool temperature would soothe his temper. His body was throbbing, nerves stretched taut, sensation skimming the surface of his skin in a way it hadn’t in seven years. He could still feel her slender shoulders beneath his touch, the tease of her breath against his neck when she had run into him.

Her heart-shaped face was even more beautiful, the shock in her light-green eyes every bit as strong as the shock he had felt upon seeing her. She was still slim and delicate, but now her curves were more defined, womanly. Where they had once been more angular, her hips now flared slightly from her taut waist and her breasts were fuller. He’d felt that for himself when she had run into him. And her skin still looked as soft as down.

Immediately, he had wanted to put his hands on her, his mouth, which blistered him up good. He killed that thought real quick.

“Matt?”

He stiffened at the sound of his brother’s voice. The last thing he wanted was to spoil Russ’s wedding day.

“What’s wrong? Is it Annalise?”

He gave a sharp nod. With little effort, Matt had stayed away from her all night, then his past had walked right smack into him. There was no point in denying why he was so angry, especially to his brother.

Dragging a hand down his face, he turned, battling to force the sound of her smoke-and-honey voice out of his head. “It happened outside. How did you know about it?”

“You were lathered up when you and Willow came back into the hotel.” His brother, a year older, watched him steadily. “I knew it had to be because of her.”

Matt wanted to rip into his brother and ask why she had been invited, but the whole town had been. It wasn’t Russ’s fault Annalise had shown up. Wasn’t his fault the woman still affected Matt so strongly. Drawing in her light clean scent of primroses had tied his gut in nine kinds of knots. How could she still smell the same? Why did he have to remember it so well?

“I figured she might come,” Russ said quietly.

Matt had tried not to give it any thought.

“Did you talk to her?”

“Oh, she did all the talking,” he bit out. He felt as though he could explode any second. “Don’t you have a bride waiting?”

“What did she say?”

“Leave off.” Matt shoved a hand through his hair. “There’s no reason to ruin your night. You’ve got a good woman. You should be in there enjoying her.”

“Tell me.” Moonlight slanted across Russ’s face as he braced one shoulder against the hotel wall.

Matt knew that patient stance, the expectant tone. His brother wouldn’t leave until he knew. “She made some smart-mouthed comment when I started walking away. Something about how she recognized my back since I was so good at turning away from her.”

His brother cursed.

Matt gave a harsh laugh. “You and I both know who turned their back on whom. The minute her pa died, she planned to leave even though she—” He broke off as he wrestled with another savage urge to hit something. To ride the hell out of Whirlwind.

“Even though she had agreed to marry you,” his brother finished quietly. “What else did she say?”

“That’s it.” Which was one reason Matt couldn’t figure out why seeing her had hit him so hard. Had torn into the deep hole inside him he thought had healed. They had been inches apart for less than one minute. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t let himself. “It was no secret she had always wanted to be a doctor. I didn’t like her decision to go back east by herself, but I understood. Not the other though.”

“The miscarriage.”

His eyes stung. “If she hadn’t been so damn deter-mined to go to medical school right then, our baby would be alive.”

Even now, after all these years, Matt’s throat closed up when he thought about his child.

“She swore she didn’t know about the baby until after she arrived in Philadelphia,” Russ reminded. “That she lost the baby before she could write to tell you she was expecting.”

Matt had burned her letter, but it didn’t matter. The words she’d written weeks after leaving him were carved into his brain forever. “How could she not be aware that there was a life growing inside her? Her pa was a doctor and she helped him with patients often. She had to have known she was expecting.”

“Why would she lie?”

“She wanted what she wanted. She didn’t need anything here.” Even him, Matt thought.

“She’d been caring for Hardy for over a year.”

“And we helped her.” Them and Pa. That was when Matt had fallen in love with her. “So?”

“She left so soon after he died. Maybe she was grieving so hard she couldn’t think clear. Remember how I was after Amy ran off with that married man she’d been seeing while engaged to me?”

When he had lost his first fiancée, Russ had been negligent, withdrawn and as cantankerous as a bear with a thorn in his paw. Maybe Annalise had been a couple of those things, too. And if she had stayed in Whirlwind, Matt thought angrily, he could have helped her through it.

His brother shifted, disrupting the shadows. “Maybe she made a mistake by leaving then.”

“A mistake to go when she did, maybe, but claiming not to know about the baby? That was no mistake. That was a flat-out lie.”

It had been some years since he and Russ had talked about this in detail and his brother’s calm suggestion still angered him. And solved nothing. She was back, but for how long?

At the thought, hope rose. She had left once; it was entirely possible she might leave again. He jerked a thumb toward the hotel door. “Get back in there. I don’t want Lydia taking a strip off my hide because she can’t find you. You’re the groom, remember?”

There was an innate contentment about his brother these days, a sense of calm. Despite the somber expression on his face just now, Russ was happy. Settled. Matt had once thought he wanted that with Annalise. But he didn’t. Not with her, not with any woman.

Seeing his first love had left him feeling raw, cornered.

“You’ll be in for the toast?”

Matt nodded. “Get me a glass of champagne, okay?”

“If you’d rather, I can ask Pa to give it.”

“I’ll do it.” Annalise Fine wasn’t going to ruin this night more than she already had. Matt had moved on—many times—from her. He could do it again.

As his brother opened the door, he said, “I’ll be clear-headed when I make the toast, Russ. I won’t let you down.”

The other man squeezed his shoulder. “I know that.”

Matt stayed outside a few more minutes, trying to calm the fury pulsing through him.

After finally catching the band of rustlers who had been stealing cattle from the Triple B and surrounding ranches in several counties, he had anticipated things going back to normal, looked forward to a rest. The Landis brothers, all seven of them, were awaiting trial in Abilene’s jail because Taylor County was where they had done the majority of their rustling. Callahan and Nolan counties planned to extradite the gang to their respective counties once the Taylor County trial ended.

The capture of the seven bastards had been a long time coming and the result of more than just Matt’s efforts. He had every right to feel victorious. And Annalise had leeched it right out of him.

He had a Stockraisers’ Association meeting to attend in two days. Exhausted after months of spending intense effort on the rustlers, he didn’t look forward to the trip, but he was glad to have it. Come tomorrow morning, he would be on his way to Graham and away from Dr. Annalise Fine. And when he returned to Whirlwind, he intended to stay away.

In the days after seeing Matt, Annalise stayed busy. She treated a case of pneumonia, several sore throats, an earache and accepted an invitation out to Riley Holt’s for supper. She had known him and his brother, Davis Lee, her entire life and welcomed the chance to meet their wives, Susannah and Josie.

She had also examined J. T. Baldwin’s injured leg. She wanted to examine him more thoroughly before saying she agreed with the doctor from Fort Greer that he would walk again. At the end of their visit, Matt’s pa had mentioned—twice—that her former beau had been gone all week to Graham for a Stockraisers’ Association meeting.

She had murmured some unintelligible comment. She didn’t want to know where he was or what he was doing. She didn’t want to think about him at all.

Five nights after Russ and Lydia’s wedding celebration, she responded to a frantic plea from Davis Lee Holt, Whirlwind’s sheriff, to examine his pregnant wife, who had begun to bleed.

It was well after dark when Annalise stood at the foot of Davis Lee’s and Josie’s bed, asking questions. It was difficult enough to see her lifelong friend terrified, but the fear of miscarrying their baby on both his and his wife’s faces wrapped around Annalise like a coil of barbed wire.

For a heartbeat, the pain of her own miscarriage was so sharp she couldn’t breathe. She forced away the memories, struggling to keep all her focus on her patient.

Seven months along, Josie lay in the big bed. The lamp on a table beside her was turned as high as it would go and the soft amber light showed she was as pale as chalk. Annalise could see the sheen of sweat on both their faces.

“This has happened before,” Davis Lee offered hoarsely.

Annalise frowned. “Miscarriage?”

“Two.” The bleakness in his eyes cut her to the bone.

Two? Her heart twisted. Going through one had nearly destroyed her will to live. “You said the bleeding just started?”

“Yes.” Josie pushed a strand of brown hair out of her eyes. “I realized it was happening about ten minutes ago and sent Davis Lee for you.”

“That’s good.” Annalise was glad she lived only a hundred yards from the couple. She started to lift the sheets at Josie’s feet, expecting the lawman to step out of the room as other men did. When he didn’t, she glanced up.

Josie took her husband’s hand. “Is it all right if he stays?”

Annalise was surprised. In her experience, men didn’t want to be anywhere around female issues. “If that’s what you want.”

As Davis Lee eased down on the edge of the bed, Annalise raised the linens, noting the crimson stain was in only one spot.

Davis Lee spoke softly to his wife. “Just keep your eyes on me, honey. It’s going to be okay.”

Josie gave him a small smile.

The man’s tenderness put a lump in Annalise’s throat.

The blood didn’t appear to be spreading and there were no clots. That was promising.

She lowered the sheet to cover Josie’s feet. “The bleeding isn’t heavy. That’s a good sign. Have you had any cramping?”

“Only at the beginning tonight.”

“Do you have any pain now?”

“Some, but it isn’t sharp. It’s the baby, isn’t it?” Josie asked fearfully.

“Yes,” Annalise said gently.

Tears welled in the woman’s green eyes. Davis Lee stroked his wife’s hair, his eyes closing briefly as agony streaked across his handsome features.

Annalise’s chest ached. “You’ve done everything right so far—stayed in bed, sent Davis Lee for me.”

“So now what?” he asked quietly.

“More of the same. Josie, I’m afraid you’ll be confined to bed for the duration of the pregnancy.” The other woman’s history made the outlook even more grim, but Annalise had no intention of saying so. “You must take extra care. Especially considering your two previous losses. You have less than two months to go. Right now, complete bed rest is your best chance of keeping this baby.”

“But—”

Davis Lee squeezed his wife’s hand. “You heard the doc, Josie. You aren’t going to lift so much as a needle.”

She started to argue, but quieted when her husband gave her a look. “Yes, all right.”

Annalise bit back a smile. “Davis Lee, if you’ll pick her up, I’ll change the sheets.”

“Oh, no!” Josie protested. “You don’t need to clean up!”

Annalise smiled. “Putting down clean sheets will allow me to judge better tomorrow if the bleeding has slowed.”

He scooped up his wife. In short order, Annalise had the bed stripped and a clean sheet on the moss-stuffed mattress.

Once her patient was settled, she took her leave. Davis Lee walked out with her.

“You don’t need to see me home,” she said when they paused on his porch. “Not since I live so close to you.”

He nodded, glancing over his shoulder then pulling the door shut quietly. He shoved a hand through his dark hair and she could see his hand was shaking. “This can’t be any better for her than it is for the baby. Is she gonna be okay, Annalise? Even if she loses the baby?”

Annalise didn’t need the wash of moonlight over his rugged features to see the man was terrified of losing his wife.

“I told her—” He broke off hoarsely. “It was too soon to try after the last one.”

Annalise’s throat tightened painfully. She laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she is fine and I know you are, too. You’re taking good care of her, Davis Lee.”

He searched her face then a resolve came over him. “She won’t be getting out of that bed. You can count on it.”

She smiled. “Any more questions?”

“Not right now.”

“If she has further pain or thinks she’s bleeding more profusely, send for me right away.”

“All right.”

“Count on seeing me tomorrow.”

He hugged her. “Thanks again. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me, too.” She stepped off his porch, angling toward her house. Josie was lucky to have a husband like Davis Lee. To have anyone. Except for a midwife she had only just met, Annalise had been alone when she’d suffered her miscarriage seven years ago.

Once inside her house, she removed her blood-streaked apron, unable to dodge the memories any longer. She had known she would have to relive them at some point and they flew at her like arrows. If her loss hadn’t been raked up by a possible miscarriage, it would’ve been triggered by a troubled pregnancy or stillbirth.

Moving as though in a daze, she washed her hands, then the dishes she’d left in a hurry when Davis Lee had fetched her.

With tears blurring her vision, she changed into her night clothes, brushed out her hair and plaited it then lay down. The images wouldn’t stop. Neither would the guilt. Memories of the pain, the blood, the resulting infection. She’d been lucky to survive.

She finally dozed off, waking with a start when someone pounded heavily on her front door.

Afraid it was Davis Lee again, she sprang out of bed. She grabbed her cotton wrapper from the back of her vanity chair and pulled it on, tying it snugly as she rushed down the stairs. She snatched up her medical bag then opened the door. And froze. “Russ?”

The big man’s back was to her and he was carrying someone. He looked over his shoulder, features taut. Urgent. “He needs help.”

Ef Gerard, Whirlwind’s blacksmith, stood in the darker shadows holding the man’s feet.

She flung the door wide. “Bring him in. Follow me.”

Hurrying, she led them to the back room and the patient cot in the near corner. After placing her bag on the floor, she lit an oil lamp while Russ and Ef carefully laid the man face-down on the mattress then stepped away.

“His back’s the worst of it,” Russ said.

Holding the light high, she walked over to the patient. She searched for injuries, her gaze skimming over sock feet and powerful thighs in denims filmed with red dust. Blood caked the back of his white shirt. It had splattered on the sleeves, too. His face was also bloody. Swollen and—

Her heart stopped. It was Matt!