“I didn’t touch her,” Jack gritted. “At least, not the way you mean. I saved her damned life—and all I got out of it was a stolen horse and a delay in my journey north.”
Candice was shaking. She looked everywhere but at Savage.
“Pedro, get his horse,” John said. The hand immediately turned to obey. John looked at Jack. “You saved my daughter’s life, and for that I thank you.”
Jack smiled again. It didn’t reach his eyes.
The stallion was led out, saddled. Candice looked at Jack again. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the horse. She saw the slick sheen on his oozing chest. Her mind started to work. He had trailed her on foot. He was still hurt. She should have never stolen the horse. She would never forget the look in his eyes—or how close they had all come to violence and maybe murder. Pedro handed him the stallion’s reins. He didn’t move to get on. His hands on the leathers were white.
“You’d better ride out of here while you can,” Luke advised.
Jack met his gaze evenly. His was strangely bright. “My gun.”
Luke looked at Red Barlow, who still had his rifle aimed at the man’s back. He nodded. “Give him his gun, Red.”
Red hesitated. “You sure?”
“Give it to him, Red,” John said.
Red hesitated again, then, still training his rifle on Jack, he gingerly removed his gun.
“Wait,” John-John said, and moved in between them to take the Colt and quickly empty its chamber. He wheeled and thrust it at Jack. Jack sheathed it and moved stiffly to the stallion’s side. His back was bloody. The scabs had opened, and Candice inhaled sharply. He must have heard, because he tensed.
“Pop,” Candice said swiftly, “he’s hurt. He came all this way on foot. At least—at least he could have something to eat.”
Everyone stared at her.
“What in hell’s wrong with you?” Mark shouted.
“He did save my life,” Candice said, her chin coming up and her heart pounding furiously. She wasn’t looking at her brother or anyone other than the man whose bloody back was facing her. How could he have done it? Did the stupid horse mean so much to him? And how—how was he going to get on it and ride?
“You, boy,” John Carter said.
Jack was still standing with his back to them, facing the horse. Now he put his foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle.
“Go around back to the kitchen. Maria will give you something to eat.”
The stallion swung sideways and Jack faced the Carter family with scorn blazing in his eyes. Candice blushed, knowing this proud man would never go to the back to take scraps like a dog. She felt a sudden shame for her family—and for herself. His glance settled on her and it burned.
Candice bravely held it, her hand coming up to her mouth. Something seemed to choke her from deep inside. She saw that his face was beaded with sweat. “Please,” she heard herself say. “Go around back and get some food and water.”
“To hell with your charity,” he said in a low voice.
He tore his gaze away and turned the stallion, who was prancing restlessly. As he did so he slumped slightly, from the waist, then pulled erect again. The stallion snorted and shook his head.
“He’s hurt,” Candice said.
And he fell from the horse with one crashing thud at their feet.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Candice moved with a cry, but not fast enough. Luke got to Jack first, bending over and feeling for his pulse. Candice became aware of her father’s hand on her arm, restraining her. Luke straightened. “He’s got a high fever. Looks like them marks got infected.”
“Red, you and Willie take him into the barn,” John Carter said.
“Pop!” Mark protested. “Set him on his horse and send him out of here!”
Candice opened her mouth to object, but Luke was already ordering Red to help him move Jack. He bent and lifted the man by his armpits, and Red took his ankles. Candice watched worriedly, blaming herself for everything. As they started across the yard, she took exactly two steps after them before her father grabbed her shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?”
