The Trailrider's Fortune

by Shannah Biondine

  Finally she managed to free his swollen member from the clinging underwear. He groaned as she brought him to straining, twitching life, stroking his length with both hands.

  "Dammit, you're still gettin' your way," he growled. He drew her thigh up over his hip and plunged deep, sending his satin heat to vanquish her. He took her savagely, matching the rhythm of the locomotive's steam engine, pumping, grinding.

  They climaxed together, yet he didn't stop touching or kissing her, didn't withdraw. He was on a quest, determined to obtain his greatest reward yet—the bounty on a woman's soul.

  Sparkle was powerless against the onslaught. Nothing he did of a sexual nature surprised her; he'd already done so many things in so many ways, she knew he was capable of anything. Rafe Conley was pure animal lust and aggression. The embodiment of every bawdy town like Abilene or Dodge City, raw need driven to own and tame.

  She accepted it. From the first, she'd understood that he was a rowdy, dangerous man. But the tenderness…Why tonight had his mood and manner changed? For all his verbal bluster, his kisses and caresses had been whisper soft at first…until they seared deeper than ever. Until the passion blazed between them.

  "Would it be such an awful thing to belong to each other?" He caught her face between his hands. "Stop hidin', Sparkle. You'll lie here naked in my arms, but you won't show your insides. You've seen my scar. You know I don't like showin' that to a woman. You know I been hurt, been left to feel like I'm not a man because of it. But Christ, you're beautiful. You got no reason to hide yourself. Why won't you let me see what's in your heart?"

  "You scare me."

  "Had my loaded gun against your chin, you never flinched. You're literally half shakin' now. Doesn't make sense."

  "It's not that kind of scared. It's easy for me when you tease and talk like a hired gun. But when you're serious and gentle like this…"

  He sighed. "When I kiss you like that, it's a special gift. Like your virginity was to me. I can't share this side with anyone else. A mercenary ain't supposed to have tender feelin's."

  Her arms curled around his neck. "I know."

  "I'd rather be dead than be alone in feelin' this powerful love, Sparkle," he murmured low. "Never figured I'd fall in love. Knowin' you don't feel the same way I do cuts worse than the Bowie."

  God, why'd he have to say that? Why that? "You're not alone, Rafe. I never should've let you touch me, but I did and it's too late. Now I need you so much."

  "Say it, goddamn you," he hissed. "Once. Say it."

  "I…Lord forgive me, I think I do love you."

  They melded then. Bodies, souls, hearts, minds. At last Rafe tucked the blanket over them both. The sleeping car was quiet but for the steady clack of the wheels along the steel rails. Rafe drifted into slumber. She was exhausted, fully sated, but unable to surrender to oblivion herself. She had too much on her mind.

  Rafe honestly wanted to marry her. Could she allow their game to become truth?

  Ruby Ann's words about raising fatherless children came back to haunt Sparkle, as did Frazer's boasts of Rafe's exploits. Ned Slocumb sightlessly staring, blood trickling down his face. Rafe's pronouncement he'd been hired to expunge a problem. Human lives reduced to mere nuisance…

  She would take Rafe home to meet Jace. That act might prove her salvation. No one could look upon Jace's withered limbs or heavy wheelchair and remain unmoved. Would a man who craved freedom and open space willingly chain himself to a house-bound invalid? Had Rafe ever considered that's what Jace was? Sparkle doubted it. She was almost positive Rafe would change his mind about marriage after meeting Jace.

  Sparkle was painfully aware, every minute of every night and day, they were living on borrowed time. They couldn't have a future together.

  She couldn't live like that, couldn't go through the pain of losing someone she loved to violence again.

  CHAPTER 15

  Sparkle pulled the gold band off and dropped it into her handbag. "Oh dear, there's an obvious mark on my finger."

  "Doubt your brother will notice," Rafe replied. "He'll be too busy inspectin' me from head to toe. Remember how I felt the first time Miranda brought Zach home. Hearin' we met up in a Wichita saloon ain't likely to warm him up to me any."

  "You can't say we met there. We didn't. We met on the street."

  "Darlin', I wasn't plannin' to boast you wiped my boots with your bustle. Figured I'd say you told my fortune. You did."

  Sparkle violently shook her head. "It can't be anything to do with a saloon or fortune telling. Jace thinks I teach school."

  They'd been walking to the LaFleur house from the depot. Rafe set down their bags and burst into uproarious laughter. He wrapped both arms around his middle and collapsed onto the sidewalk, cackling so hard tears began to trickle from his eyes.

  I don't see what's so funny." Sparkle glared down at him, tapping her foot.

  "A schoolmarm? Hell, why didn't you make yourself head of the Women's Temperance League, or the Reverend Mother of St. Lucinda's while you were spinnin' yarns?"

  Sparkle gave him a good swift kick in the rump. "Get up, you jackass! I wasn't even sixteen when I hired his nurse and went to work. I said I was a teacher's assistant in Topeka. When I got to the Scarlet Lady, I claimed I'd become a full teacher and taken a post in Wichita. The nurse knows better, but Jace doesn't. That's how my brother put up with me working in saloons. I never told him."

  Rafe's backside smarted where she'd kicked him and he was smothering with his shirt collar buttoned. It was too damned warm for stiff collars or a corduroy jacket, but he wanted to make a good impression on Sparkle's only kin. "How's he figure you make so much money teachin' school?"

  "I tell him I also tutor privately on the side. Helped cover why I couldn't visit more often."

  "All right, so I saw you walkin' down the street and tipped my hat. Or helped you out of a mud hole, or whatever. How long have I been sweet on you?"

  "I don't know." She looked thoughtful, maybe spinning a new yarn.

  Rafe caught her hand. "Stop right there. It's been almost a year now we've known each other, Sparkle. Collected my bounty on Slim Jensen early last summer. Course, bein' a travelin' salesman or whatever I am, I only get to Wichita upon occasion." He snorted with fresh laughter. "Is that what we're claimin' about me? Or do schoolmarms take up with former outlaws to teach morality lessons?"

  "Ha-ha," she mimicked with angry sarcasm. "I don't see why we have to get into any of that. You're just a gentleman friend. Jace will be surprised enough I've brought a guest home. We don't generally—"

  "I ain't just some friend," Rafe growled in response. "You call me that one more time, I'll horsewhip you."

  "How? Snatch took your bullwhip to Colorado," she reminded haughtily.

  "Dammit, I'm not funnin' now, Sparkle. I'm askin' for your brother's blessing. You ain't got a pa, so it's up to Jace. He'll want to know all there is about me before he agrees to a marriage. That's how brothers are."

  "I haven't said I'd marry you," she tersely reminded, mounting the front steps of a modest home. The front door opened before she could knock or pull out a key. A blonde woman in a starched white apron arched a pale eyebrow at them.

  "Majesta. I've decided to surprise Jace with a visit." Sparkle's voice sounded artificially cheery to Rafe's ears. "I'd like you to meet Mr. Conley. He's a gentleman acquaintance from Wichita. How's Jace?" Sparkle breezed past the woman into the house.

  Rafe studied this Majesta. Sparkle said there was a nurse, but this gal didn't look like anyone to alleviate suffering. She appeared more the type who inflicted it. All buxom and stiff, cornflower eyes downright wary. Those eyes said Rafe was allowed inside, but that didn't mean he was welcome.

  "Please come in." She pivoted as she closed the door behind him. Then he promptly ceased to exist. She turned her attention to her employer.

  "Your brother's resting. He seems more tired than usual. I thought I'd let him sleep until the meal's ready. You'll join us for
supper, won't you?" She shot a glance at Rafe. He nodded and cleared his throat, but had no chance to speak up before she said icily, "Sparkle didn't wire she was bringing a guest. I would have prepared something special. I'm afraid you'll have to take pot luck."

  "Whatever you're fixin' will be just fine, ma'am."

  Majesta disappeared through a doorway into what Rafe assumed was the kitchen. Sparkle frowned. "Ma'am? You never called me Miss or Ma'am from the very first instant I met you."

  "Just tryin' to be sociable," he parried. "She ain't happy you brought me along. Maybe I should find a room somewhere, call on you tomorrow. Seems she's not feelin' hospitable just now."

  "She never feels hospitable, but it doesn't matter. I'll bring home anyone I see fit." She pulled him down beside her on the parlor sofa, sighing. "I'm sorry. I don't like sounding mean, Majesta takes some getting used to. She can be condescending at times, but she's wonderful with Jace. She's just used to running the house her way. I'm not home very often, so I let her. Looking down her nose is what she does best. She even does it to me. You should see the poor drummers who come peddling their wares. They never get beyond the porch."

  "Friendly as a scorpion on a hot rock. That schoolmarm tale probably encourages her to look down on you."

  "She's an employee," Sparkle huffed. "Who can be replaced."

  They lapsed into silence. Rafe fought to ignore the walls closing in, though a bead of sweat ran down his back. Sparkle was primly sitting beside him, hands folded in her lap. A convincing schoolmarm. But he'd a lot rather watch her read tarot or climb into bed next to him…as his equally convincing and loving wife.

  Damned peculiar. He'd never wanted a wife before. Never pictured himself as anyone's husband. But he'd adjusted to the scenario during their pretense all these months. Now having Sparkle as his mate was something he wanted with real desperation. No funning. But first he had to impress her ailing brother, and that posed a dilemma.

  He wasn't about to say he was a traveling salesman—not after Sparkle's remark about how the nurse hated drummers. Jace might have the same dislike. Maybe the nurse was so standoffish toward strangers because Jace wanted her to act that way. Admitting Rafe was a hired gun would be just plain dumb. He couldn't admit that. Partner in Crockhead Rest seemed a reasonable alternative. It was close to the truth. Travis nagged him every winter about going in on the spread, and Rafe had sunk some of his own money in horseflesh and cattle there.

  That was the best way to handle the question, he decided. If he seemed awkward at the supper table, these city folks would excuse his manners. Cattle ranchers weren't expected to fuss over the right fork or soup spoons. Sparkle's brother probably wouldn't know the first thing about the beef business.

  Majesta swept past them to head up the staircase. "You folks wash up," she commanded. "Seat your Mr. Conley across from Jace's customary place at the head of the table. We'll be down in a moment."

  Your Mr. Conley? Rafe suspected the nurse would have preferred to seat him in the next county. Jesus, but she was the least sociable excuse for a female he'd run across in a good long time. He didn't much care how she treated him, but he didn't cotton to her being snippy to Sparkle.

  "You know," he commented as they took their places in the dining room, "that woman doesn't treat you with the proper respect. Acts like this is her house, not yours. If she doesn't get her bustle on straight, there'll be hell to pay. Won't stand for anybody showin' you any disrespect once you're my wife."

  "What's this?" a deep voice demanded. Majesta wheeled a slender man with intense blue eyes into the room. "Wife? I couldn't have heard correctly. It seems Sparkle's neglected to tell me something important."

  Rafe opened his mouth to explain, but the devilish look Jace tossed at his sister said he was teasing in mock anger. Rafe recognized that way between kin. He'd teased Miranda all their lives. Guess he wasn't the only brother to need recognition and attention from a sister. Even the exasperated kind.

  Sparkle had found her voice and that chin-up manner that always warmed Rafe to watch. "Jace, this is Rafe Conley, a gentleman friend." She gave Rafe a speaking look, silently warning him not to contest the last word. "Rafe, this is my brother, Jace LaFleur."

  Rafe came around the table and reached down without hesitation to shake hands. He noticed the keen intelligence in Jace's light eyes. The grasp of the man's fingers was surprisingly strong, too. Though awkward, since he used his left hand. Rafe amended the image of the "helpless cripple" he'd carried in his mind. There was some steel in the fellow, despite the wheelchair.

  "This is indeed an honor, Mr. Conley," Jace grinned, glancing at Sparkle. "My sister's never brought a gentleman caller home before. From what I caught as we came in just now, I gather there's a good reason why she's brought you to meet me."

  "The food's getting cold, Jace," Majesta admonished. "We'll discuss family business later. Our guest must be hungry. Let me bring the roast out." She adjusted his chair and drew a napkin over his lap.

  Damn, but that blonde woman was quick to order folks around. The meal was excellent, but Rafe noticed with mounting irritation the nurse continued to speak in uppity tones and hovered over her patient. He didn't know how Jace bore up under the fussing. A woman seeing to a crippled man's needs was one thing—but this gal cut Jace's meat for him, served him more peas before he'd finished the scoop on his plate, even answered Rafe's questions before Jace could speak up. Talk about running the house!

  Sparkle also seemed to note the fawning attention, how Majesta's hand lingered on Jace's shoulder or brushed his wheat curls off his brow. She shot the nurse a dark frown that went largely ignored. The nurse woman had seen it, Rafe knew she had. But instead of backing down, she continued in the very same way. There was an undercurrent between the two females Rafe couldn't fathom. Tough enough figuring the workings of one woman's mind. He wasn't going to even try sorting out two.

  They all adjourned to the parlor. "I'm pleased you surprised us like this, Sparkle," Jace remarked. "I'd asked Majesta to write next week to inquire if you could come home for a few days."

  Sparkle edged away from Rafe. He was itching to hold her close or entwine their fingers, but knew it was too soon. Jace had only just met him. Fighting his strong desire for physical closeness with his woman, Rafe kept a safe distance, didn't even brush Sparkle's hand. He'd find a way to be alone with her later.

  "Write me?" Sparkle repeated, glancing from her brother to Majesta and back. "Has something happened with your health? Your memory come back?"

  About what? Rafe wondered, sensing a subtle increase in the tension in the room.

  "Actually, I've never felt better," Jace said. He turned to pin Rafe with his gaze. "I assume you've been calling on my sister for some time, Mr. Conley."

  "It's Rafe. And I've been sweet on her nigh onto a year. I came to ask for her hand."

  "Well, it seems wedding fever's in the air," Jace beamed.

  Rafe suddenly understood why the blonde behaved as if she owned the place.

  "Majesta and I were married last week," Jace announced brightly. "I'd hoped to have Sparkle here for the ceremony, but our minister had prior commitments that prevented us from—"

  "Married?" The color drained from Sparkle's face. She shot off the couch as if she'd just noticed it was a cactus.

  "Yes. We're together constantly, as you know. One day I realized I couldn't imagine life without Majesta, and not just because of my physical limitations. I'd miss her inner strength, her understanding ear. And while I'm not certain she's made the best choice of husbands, I was thrilled when she graciously consented to become my wedded wife."

  Sparkle inexplicably went livid at those words. "I pay you to cook the meals and look after this house, not crawl into his bed!"

  Rafe winced. He'd seen Sparkle upset before—or thought he had, up until this moment—but she looked ready to swallow a horned toad backwards.

  "Darlin', ain't you happy for Jace?" Rafe tried to sound encouraging and up
beat.

  "Happy for him?" She sounded incredulous at that perfectly natural suggestion.

  "Well, sure, since it seems—"

  "Oh, shut up, Rafe. This has nothing to do with you." She glared at Jace. "You'll have to get an annulment or find some way to undo—"

  "Don't be ridiculous." Jace half laughed in protest.

  "This is all wrong," Sparkle insisted. "I want to see you in the other room, Majesta. Now."

  Majesta stalked off to the kitchen with Sparkle right on her heels. The door closed behind them and Rafe offered his host a wry shrug. "Can't imagine what's come over your sis. Maybe cause the news took her by surprise. She doesn't always cotton to surprises. Expect she'll boil over, then simmer back down."

  Unfortunate choice of words, Rafe. He inwardly groaned at the image of Sparkle naked and panting beneath him. He saw her very clearly at the boiling point, gasping. Clutching at him as he thrust a final time, spilling himself into her. Sparkle at her boiling point…those eyes of hers turning smoky teal just before they closed in ecstasy. Think of something else, Rafe warned himself. Anything else.

  "We met in Wichita," he blurted, apropos to nothing. Jace hadn't asked.

  "Ah," Jace nodded, appearing grateful for the change of topic. "Wichita. Do you have a business there?"

  "Nope. I'm partners with my brother. Got a spread over in Pueblo. I travel, buyin' stock and supplies. Met Sparkle on the street one mornin'. She's got the prettiest eyes I ever saw. Ain't been the same since I first looked into them."

  Rafe forced a smile, trying to look congenial as he pretended to ignore the angry voices carrying from the kitchen.

  "She's also got a stubborn streak a mile wide," Jace remarked, coloring as he too caught the disturbance through the closed door. The women were hissing in there like two alleycats.

  "Sparkle hasn't actually agreed to marry me yet," Rafe admitted. "Guess she wants time to decide between me and the fella she's known so long. I'm real partial to your sister. You seem like a decent fella, wouldn't hand me no gum. Reckon this local dandy's the right man for her?"