«Praise God,» Jessica said fervently. «Wolfe was so exposed up there.»

«You were hardly out of the line of fire, ma’am. The stagecoach isn’t thick enough to stop bullets at close range.»

«I hadn’t thought about that,» she admitted. «I was too worried about Wolfe.»

«Like I said, he’s a lucky man.»

«Maybe one day he’ll think so, too,» Jessica said under her breath. She ripped the trailing end of the silk down the middle and tied off the bandage. «There. That should help the bleeding. At the next stage stop, I’ll wash the wound with soap and clean water.»

«That isn’t necessary.»

«Yes, it is,» she said as she helpedRafe back into his jacket. «A man calledSemmelweis discovered that the horrible infections of childbed fever could be prevented if the doctor simply washed his hands before he treated each patient. If one infection can be prevented by washing, it stands to reason that others can, too.»

«Are you a nurse?» Rafe asked, easing his arm into the coat with her help. «You have very good hands, gentle and quick.»

Jessica smiled. «Thank you, but I have no formal training. My guardian raised me to be able to handle the common emergencies of a country estate — broken bones, fevers, gashes, and such. I’ve also had experience with pregnancy and childbirth.»

Enough to know that I want no part of either, Jessica added silently as she turned away to check on the girl, who was still huggingherself.IfI learned nothing else from my mother, I learned that.

«Are you all right, Mrs. O’Conner?» Jessica asked.

Numbly, the girl nodded.

«And the babe?» Jessica said bluntly, putting her hands inside the girl’s coat and pressing lightly against the womb. «Is it well, too?»

The girl stared, shaken out of her apathy by the gentle, unexpected explorations of the other woman’s hands.

«Is there any pain?» Jessica asked.

Mrs. O’Conner shook her head.

A soundless sigh of relief came from Jessica. The girl’s torso was supple and resilient rather than rigid with untimely contractions. Smiling reassuringly, Jessica arranged the girl’s coat snugly again and sat next to her on the bench seat, givingRafe the opposite seat all to himself.

«Tell me if that changes,» Jessica said.

The girl nodded, then smiled hesitantly. «Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry if I insulted your husband. It’s just…» Her voice died and she crossed herself with a trembling hand. «I’m so frightened of Indians. Itsh — shames me.»

«Don’t worry yourself about it,» Jessica said. A feeling of sudden, overwhelming tiredness claimed her as the urgency of the moment passed, leaving her drained. «I understand nightmares and daytime fears better than most.»

The girl looked at Jessica’s hands, saw their trembling, and made a startled sound. «You’re afraid, too!»

«Of course I am. I’m not too stupid to know when I might be mauled or murdered. I’ve simply learned how to hide my fear.»

Jessica shoved her hands beneath her cloak, pulled the heavy folds tightly around her, and closed her eyes, fighting for control. It had been much easier when there had been something to do besides sit around like a chicken trussed for the spit.

Finally the sounds of gunfire faded, became sporadic, and stopped completely. The pace of the stagecoach didn’t slow. One of the jolts was so great that a rear wheel lifted completely off the ground, sending Jessica and Mrs. O’Conner tumbling across the narrow aisle intoRafe. Jessica’s head cracked against the side of the stage, stunning her for a moment.

Rafecaught Jessica with his right arm and braced her across his chest as the coach slammed back down onto all four wheels.

«I’m terribly sorry, sir,» Mrs. O’Conner said, flushing as she righted herself and sat across the aisle once more.

«No problem,» Rafe said. «Ma’am? Are you all right?»

Dazed, Jessica shook her head, trying to clear it. Sounds seemed to come at her from all sides, battering her, making it impossible to think or speak. Darkness spun around her, closer and closer.

Struggling despite the certainty that she couldn’t win, Jessica fought the dark tide that was closing over her. Her last thought before she went under was a sick certainty that this was how her mother had felt each time the earl had dragged her into the marriage bed despite her screams and flailing fists, forcing her to accept the seed that one day would tear her apart.

Mrs. O’Conner made a horrified sound and went to her knees in the narrow aisle in front of Jessica. «Mrs.Lonetree?»

Rafedidn’t bother calling to Jessica. He had felt her body go utterly slack. He cradled her cheek against his chest, covered her exposed ear with his hand, and whistled shrilly enough to shatter glass, demanding the attention of the men riding on top of the stage.

«Slow down!» Rafe yelled. «One of the women is hurt!»

The words sent a chill through Wolfe. He grabbed the railing and bent down until he could look through a torn curtain into the stagecoach’s interior. At first he could see nothing. Then Mrs. O’Conner moved aside and he saw Jessica cradled in the big rider’s arms.

The stage was still rolling when Wolfe swung down, ran alongside, and opened the door. With catlike quickness, he leaped into the stage’s interior.

«Is she shot?» Wolfe demanded, setting aside the rifle he had kept in hand.

«No,» Rafe said. «The stage hit a bump and sent her flying. She hit her head so hard that it stunned her.»

Wolfe grunted. «Well, that explains why the screaming stopped.»

Rafeshot him a surprised look, but Wolfe didn’t notice. He was too busy lifting Jessica from the stranger’s big lap and onto his own. Mrs. O’Conner drew back to the far corner of the seat to make room for him. Wolfe barely noticed the girl’s retreat. He was too busy controlling the irrational anger that had seized him when he saw Jessica in another man’s arms.

«That was some fancy maneuver you pulled, mister,» Wolfe said as he examined the slight bruise forming on Jessica’s temple. «Don’t know as I’ve ever seen a man get on a stage like that.»

«The name isRafe, and I wouldn’t have had a chance without your shooting and your wife’s quick thinking. If she hadn’t opened that door, I’d have had a hell of a time pulling myself up on top of the stage one-handed.»

«Thank Mrs. O’Conner. I’m afraid my wife was too gently raised to be of much use in a crisis,» Wolfe said curtly. He looked up at Mrs. O’Conner. «Allow me to thank you as well. If you hadn’t exposed yourself to fire long enough to pass up the rifle case, we all would have had a much worse time of it.»

«I…» The girl’s voice dried up as she looked at the fierce lines of Wolfe’s face, seeing the clear presence of the savage beneath. She looked away quickly. «I did nothing.»

Wolfe assumed the girl was simply being modest. He smiled at her and looked back down at Jessica. His smile faded. She appeared very small and fragile. Her face was bloodless. Even lips that were normally the color of ripe cherries had gone pale.

Now will you admit what I alwaysknew?Wolfedemanded silently of his unconsciouswife.You’renot the kind of woman who can survive the West, much less raise children in it. You’re a creature of lace and moonlight, an aristocrat who was never meant for hard use. You need a wealthy, titled husband who can wrap you in silk and satin and keep you from all harm.

I’m not that man. I never will be. I can no more change what I am than you can become a woman like Willow. 1 can only try to keep you alive until even your stubbornness has to give way before the truth.

We are all wrong for each other.

Silently, Wolfe held Jessica’s frail weight and cursed himself and her for the unholy tangle she had made of their lives; and beneath it all, he cursed the desire for her that gripped him even now, his body responding to the feel and scent of the girl he must not take, for then their marriage would be as real and final as death.