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Instead, she’d simply turned him off.

  They’d spent three days in silence now. It was about to eat him alive. He started more than his fair share of conversations, but she froze him out each time with that teacher stare she’d mastered.

  Now they were into New Mexico, close to Fort Bascom, and he’d spent those three days in misery. With nothing to keep his mind off it, he couldn’t help but dwell on their kiss.

  He couldn’t forget that kiss.

  He had never been so affected by a plain kiss—though there had been nothing plain about it. He could look across at her as she bounced along on that prissy Sassy and taste her. When he helped her to dismount, he smelled the subtle scent of lavender that clung to her. His senses would reel. It took every ounce of concentration to prevent from locking lips right then and there.

  And then there had been the nights. Normally, he fell asleep faster than a hundred men put together. The last couple of nights had been the longest in his life. He had to fight from tossing and turning. He didn’t want Jenny to have a clue as to how restless he was. Especially when she lay within an arm’s reach of him, next to the fire.

  So he lost sleep as he daydreamed about her. His heart would start to pound. His fingers would itch as he saw them run through that mass of curls again. His tongue tingled as he imagined it against hers. It became more than desire. He was afraid he’d go out of his head.

  And the more he wanted her, the more she withdrew from him. She’d been dealt a harsh blow with the instant knowledge of Sam’s true occupation. She needed time to think about it, process it, and come to an understanding about it. All he did was confuse her more. Eliminate him from the confusion, and she might handle things better.

  But how he ached for just one more pass at that lush mouth.

  He knew it was foolish. They were both from bad blood. Bad blood would tell in the long run. Things never could work between them—even if he did ever think about settling down. They might put their best faces on for the world, but deep inside, they both hid their darkest secret. They had no future, especially one together.

  “That’s Fort Bascom,” he told her as it appeared on the horizon. “We’ll need to resupply ourselves.”

  It surprised him when she spoke. “I have a letter I’d like to post while we’re there.”

  Noah had watched her write it last night by the light of the fire. She concentrated so hard, her brow wrinkled at times. The flame caught the golden highlights in her hair. He had to tamp down his desire to remove the pins and bury his face in it.

  Instead, he settled against his saddle and closed his eyes. He pretended to sleep as he listened to the scratching she made on the page. He supposed it was to her doctor friend at that school. He didn’t know of anyone else she had to write. He wondered what she revealed in it.

  He pointed her in the right direction as they entered the fort’s gates and went to find the post’s commander. The man welcomed him warmly.

  “Good to meet you, Mr. Webster,” said the colonel, after Noah introduced himself. “A Texas Ranger is always welcomed in New Mexico territory.”

  The man was in his late forties with eyes sharp as steel. Noah couldn’t see much getting past him. “I’m hunting down a man named Sam McShan.”

  The colonel laughed heartily. “Ah, the Robin Hood of the West. Don’t we all wish we could find Mr. McShan and collect on the sizable reward?”

  “I’m not interested in the reward, sir. I’m after the man himself.”

  “Maybe you could donate the reward to a worthy cause, in Sam’s honor, once you bring him in.” The army officer smiled at his own wit. “If you bring him in, that is. Sam’s been a slippery eel for a long time, Mr. Webster. I wish you luck in your endeavor.”

  “Any sight of him in these parts?”

  “No, son. If he did come this way, I would’ve heard about it. Nothing gets by me. Absolutely nothing.”

  Noah nodded. “Just as I suspected, Colonel.” He thanked the officer for his time and quickly purchased the few supplies he thought they’d need during the remainder of their trip to Prairie Dell.

  Jenny joined him, and they left the confines of the post. They traveled another couple of hours before he called a halt to their progress.

  “Let’s make camp here for the night.”

  She shrugged and brought Sassy to a halt. Noah felt his temper rise. Three days was long enough.

  He leaped from Star and walked over to her. He grabbed her around the waist and yanked her from the saddle. Her eyes widened in surprise.

  With his hands holding her firmly in place, he said, “Enough is enough, Jenny. You’ve punished me for my lack of respect toward you. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry about your daddy, too, but you’ve got to get past that. Now quit trying my patience. I’m no Job and never claimed to be.” He softened his tone. “I wish you’d talk to me, is all. I’ve missed that.”

  He gave her waist a little squeeze and dropped his hands. He didn’t trust himself to touch her any longer. He stepped back to place some space between them. He adjusted his Stetson and waited on her, his hands balled into fists by his side.

  She took a step toward him and placed a gloved hand on his forearm. A jolt passed through him at the contact. He knew she felt it, too, by the way those green eyes danced for a moment, but she ignored it.

  “Forgive me, Noah. I’ve been out of sorts. I didn’t mean to punish you for . . . for just being here.” She took a cleansing breath. “I retreated into myself. I wanted to find an answer to my problems, and I didn’t need any distractions. Of any kind,” she added.

  She gave him a weak smile. “I promise to be better company during the remainder of our journey.” She removed her hand from his arm and held it out to him.

  He took it and shook with her. He held her hand longer than called for, but he was so glad she’d spoken to him again, he didn’t care.

  “It’s a pretty cool night,” he said cheerfully as he released her hand. “Better get a fire started. I could use some coffee.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed.

  They both busied themselves with the domestic tasks of setting up camp for the night. He was happy they lingered over coffee after supper. Things seemed right again between them. He still wanted to kiss her senseless, but he’d happily take conversation with her instead.

  She leaned back against her saddle. “The stars are beautiful tonight. You can never see them this clearly in Boston.”

  He looked up at the dark night sky. “I guess some people begin to take them for granted if they’ve been on the plains long enough.”

  “Not me.” She stretched lazily. “I think I’ll write in my journal for a while.” She leaned over the saddle to reach inside the bag that contained her book as she continued to look at him.

  “Noah, do you ever th—”

  He sensed the snake right before it struck. Somehow the atmosphere changed, charged with evil. As he heard the familiar rattle sound, he dived to knock Jenny aside.

  Noah felt sharp fangs sink into his calf.

  CHAPTER 13

  Jenny heard the rattler as Noah slammed into her. She knew immediately what the noise signaled. She landed face first on the dusty ground, her left cheek sliding across gravel in the hard soil. The pain stung instantly. Before she could react, a shot rang out in the desert quiet. She flipped over. Her eyes went to Noah.

  He held a smoking pistol in his hand as he rolled away from the deadly snake. She stared at it in fascination. The light from the fire danced along its length. The patterns along the viper’s back almost hypnotized her with their beauty.

  “It’s a Western diamondback,” she said in wonder. “I recognize it from Mr. Mulholland’s book. She gasped. “It’s poisonous!”

  “Don’t touch it,” he warned. “It can jab by reflex action
even after it’s dead.” He grimaced as he spoke.

  “You’re hurt.” Her eyes flew to where he held his hand against his calf. “It bit you.”

  “Bring me my saddlebag,” he ordered.

  She retrieved it and brought it to where he sat. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead.

  “Tell me what to do.”

  “Nothing. I—”

  “Tell me.” She looked at him calmly. A peace descended upon her. She was now in her element. She had assisted Dr. Randolph in dozens of emergencies through years of working at his clinic. The physician teased her about how she grew old before her time. Still, he impressed upon her the need to refrain from panic in a time of crisis.

  “You can fall apart all you want afterwards, Jenny girl,” he had said, “but your patient needs you placid as a pond on a summer’s afternoon if you’re to do any good.”

  She took his words to heart. Sometimes after a particularly difficult experience, she found her hands trembled as she washed up—but she always remained unruffled during whatever procedure took place.

  As she looked at Noah now, she remained composed. She recognized the moment when he decided to trust her. She went to the pack horse and lifted out a pot from a side bag. She filled it with water and put it on to boil.

  “I have a razor that will need to be sterilized,” Noah told her. “We don’t have time to cleanse it in water.”

  “I know. That’s for later.” She focused on him. “Mr. Mulholland said the diamondback’s venom is quick-acting. Walk me through what to do. If we act quickly, we’ll save you.”

  He gave her an admiring glance as she found his razor. “Hold the blade in the fire. Ten seconds’ll do it.”

  She did as told and came back to his side, handing him the razor. She then reached over and slipped his knife from his belt. She cut away the lower portion of his wool trousers and peeled the material away from the bite. She also pulled off his boot and tossed it aside before claiming the razor again.

  “You’ll need to make a small cut through both fang marks. Go through both. It has to be lengthwise to my leg.” He stretched his legs out but leaned on his elbows so he could watch her work.

  She knelt and made the slits. He flinched as the hot razor scorched his skin.

  “Now press the blood from the cuts.”

  She followed his directions and applied pressure to the wound. The blood spurted then oozed down his calf.

  “Good. That’s good,” he praised her. “You didn’t go all woozy at the sight of blood. I guess my quick little prayer helped.” He tried to sit up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need to draw my leg close to suction out the venom. It’s the—”

  “-only way to keep the poison from circulating. I know.” She bent to his calf.

  “No!” He grabbed her chin and pushed her away. “I’ll do it.”

  She shoved him back. He fell flat against the ground. She poked him the chest with her finger.

  “I’m in charge here, Noah Daniel Webster. I know what I’m doing. I don’t have any cuts in my mouth, and I have a better angle at this than you do. Now behave.”

  She leaned down and cupped her mouth around the bite marks, sucking hard to draw the venom from him.

  “That’s good, honey. I can feel the pressure. You’re doing it.”

  Periodically, she raised her head and spit to the side before she returned to the task at hand. After several minutes she stopped and examined his leg again.

  “Do you have any whiskey?”

  “Check the side flap of my . . . saddlebag.”

  From his voice, she figured he was beginning to feel lightheaded. That meant the poison had begun to enter his bloodstream.

  She poured whiskey over the wound and then pulled two clean handkerchiefs from her pocket. She tied them together before dipping them in hot water and making a compress from them.

  “I wish I had some salt,” she muttered.

  He grunted. Tried to speak. No words formed.

  “I can’t move you, Noah. Any kind of movement or stimulant can speed up your heart and circulation. That would allow the poison to run through you—what’s left of it.” She brushed the hair from his forehead. “We’ll make you as comfortable as we can. Rest now.”

  She watched him begin to drift in and out of consciousness. She wrapped him in blankets to help prevent shock from setting in. And began the long wait.

  Jenny worried about more than shock. She was afraid Noah would die. She kept trying to second-guess herself. Had she acted quickly enough? Had she let out enough blood? Did she remove most of the venom?

  She spent the night by his side. Every few minutes she awakened him and forced some water down his throat. She hoped that would dilute any remaining poison and keep a fever away.

  It came anyway. She knew it would. He kept up a constant chatter the entire night. She had been around patients who, when in the grips of fever, carried on entire conversations with her that they never remembered afterward. She hoped Noah wouldn’t recall much about what he told her. He was a private man. She doubted he would be happy if he realized what he’d rambled about during the night.

  “He is the sorriest excuse for a parent that God every put on this planet.”

  “Who, Noah?” she asked, humoring him.

  He snorted. “My daddy. That’s who. The most selfish, egocentric, narcissistic man who walked the earth. His dang partner’s even worse. The two of them together made Mama miserable.”

  “Uh-huh.” She knew to indulge a patient on a tirade and continued to minister to him, bathing his face in cool water.

  “He lied to her, you know. Thought he was getting a rich woman, but her daddy cut her off quicker’n a cat’s sneeze when they eloped. Never had a thing to do with her—or us kids. That broke her heart, for sure.”

  He tossed about, and Jenny tightened the blankets around him. Since the sun set, the night grew cold. She didn’t want him taking a chill.

  He raised his head, his blue eyes burning as he looked at her. “Moved us here. Moved us there. We never had a real place to call home. Hurt us all real bad. Wanted me to work with him. Hah! I left as soon as I could. Was fifteen when I hit the cattle drives. Sent money home to Mama.” He shook his head. “She was a pretty woman once. She’s a broken one now, in body and spirit.”

  He fell into a fitful sleep then. She didn’t think his father physically hurt his wife and children, but his abuse ran along the same lines her own papa’s had. It was an emotional kind of ill-treatment. She experienced a kinship with Noah at that moment.

  He awoke again shortly, thrashing and pitching from side to side, tangled up in the folds of the blankets.

  “I’m worthless. A feckless, nugatory, undeserving vagabond. Not any better than my daddy. Pete’s a good-for-nothing, and so am I.”

  She noticed how his vocabulary seemed to expand as the fever climbed. She wondered why he hid his book learning from others. With his guard down, though, his phraseology expanded considerably.

  “You talking migratory? That’s me and Pete. Nomadic? Just show us a door, and we’re through it, lickety-split. Can’t trust us ‘cause we aren’t trustworthy. I’ve done all I can to put distance between him and me, and it’s to no avail. I’ll never be a better man. It’s all his fault.”

  He continued to ramble through the night as she nursed him. At one point he went completely out of his head as he shivered and babbled. Most of that rant she couldn’t understand. She continued to bath his face and dribble water down his throat in her efforts to fight his fever.

  It bothered her that he thought he was a worthless excuse for a man. Noah seemed to believe he was tainted with whatever wrongs his father had done, and he’d spent his whole life trying to be a bette
r man than Pete Webster. She could have told him he was a good man, better than most, despite her limited contact with his gender. She prayed she would have that chance.

  Toward dawn, the fever began to break. He mumbled a few more comments that indicated he was very down on the practice of marriage. Not that he hadn’t made that perfectly clear to her before, she thought wryly.

  “Mama told me never get married. Said I wasn’t to be a disappointment to any woman. I’m not. I will not disillusion or disenchant any female. Ever. I promise you that.”

  After that last diatribe, he fell into a restful sleep. No more blathering on. No writhing and twisting. His breathing became slow and deep. She touched her hand to his forehead and found it clammy but cool.