In Close Pursuit

by Colleen French

  "I don't suppose I could convince you to take off the rest," he called, floating on his back.

  She kept her eyes on the water in front of her, ignoring his obvious male anatomy. "Not hardly."

  Adam watched her enter the water. She hadn't waded out far when she lowered herself into a sitting position.

  He swam over beside her. "Get away from me!" She splashed water in his face.

  "You're getting awfully excited about a little bare flesh, Miss Landon." He couldn't help but notice the transparency of her wet camisole. Through the sheer, wet cotton he could see the outlines of her brown areolas and the nubs of her nipples.

  She splashed him again. "I'm not excited!"

  He laughed, circling her.

  She watched him, feeling like his prey. She rubbed sand over her bare arms and legs, scrubbing away the days of dirt.

  Adam reached out to touch her hair and she swatted his hand. "Don't touch me."

  "It's a stick. You want a stick in your hair?"

  She looked up guiltily, holding still so he could remove it. "No. Of course not."

  "So quit being so jumpy." He hurled the twig in the air and watched as it fell into the water and sent ripples across the surface.

  "How far up the creek is this place Shiner told you about?"

  "Day, day and a half ride." Adam watched her bathe, intrigued by her glistening skin and silky wet hair. Her eyes were a clear, unclouded green, not the speckled green so many people had. Despite the fact that she wore her hat when they rode, there was a patch of sunburn across the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. He reached for her again and she lowered her head.

  "What? Another stick?"

  "No."

  Adam's voice was so soft and startling that she lifted her gaze to meet him. His callused fingers brushed her cheek.

  "Adam . . ." She didn't know what to say. Her eyes closed as she fought off the heat rising in the pit of her stomach.

  He leaned over her and kissed her gently on the mouth.

  "Adam, we said this wouldn't happen again," she said weakly.

  "I know." He kissed her again.

  "Adam, this would just get in the way. It would make things too confusing."

  Hs kissed her, this time touching her lip with the tip of his tongue.

  "Adam—" She could feel her resolve waning. "Adam, we've got Larry Caine to worry about. I don't even like you."

  "You like me," he murmured in her ear.

  "You should have protected my brother."

  "I'm so sorry about your brother." His voice was raw with emotion. "I'd have died in his place if I could have." He kissed the length of her neck, sending tremors of pleasure down her spine.

  "You're not listening to me," Jessica insisted. She could hear her own voice odd and breathy.

  "I'm listening. You just keep talking." He slipped beneath her in the water and pulled her onto his lap.

  Jessica's hands fell on his shoulder as she stared eye to eye at him. Up close like this she couldn't think straight. Everything was a jumble. He was kissing her, confusing her.

  "Jess, my sweet Jess," he crooned.

  "Adam, please."

  "Shhhh, just kiss me. You know you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you. I wouldn't hurt you, I swear it."

  She met his lips. Just one kiss, she thought. She could feel her heart pounding as their tongues met.

  Adam's hands felt so good on her bare arms, on her face. When he brought his hand up to cup her breast, her eyes flew open. She looked at him, then at her breast straining against the wet, transparent cotton. "Adam," she breathed.

  He brought his mouth to the wet material, testing her hardened nipple with the tip of his tongue. Jessica gave a groan, This's gone too far, she thought deep in the recesses of her mind. But as his tongue stroked the ripening bud, she arched her back, guiding his head with her hands. "Oh, God, Adam, please don't do this to me," she moaned softly.

  "You don't like it?" he asked, teasing her other nipple with his thumb.

  "Yes, I like it," she told him breathlessly. "That's why it's wrong." She pressed her lips to his, knowing she was losing the battle within herself. "We said we wouldn't do this."

  He caressed the mound of her breast. "You're not making any sense," he whispered. "If you want me to stop, just say so, Jess."

  She threw back her head so that he could kiss the base of her throat. She knew she should tell him to stop, but it felt too good. If this was a sin of the flesh, it was a glorious sin. At this moment it didn't matter that she knew she was headed straight to hell for it; it was worth it. All she wanted was Adam and these glorious sensations.

  Adam slipped his hand into the waistband of her purple bloomers and she stiffened.

  "Relax," he whispered. "Float in my arms. Just feel, don't think. Don't analyze it." His soft, sensuous voice tickled her ear.

  Jessica felt her muscles weaken. She was being swept by a tide so strong, she had no way to control it. She could only ride it out.

  Adam stroked her inner thighs and Jessica moaned, resting her head on his broad shoulder. The cool water and his warm hand on her flesh was exhilarating. When he lifted her out of the water and carried her to the shore she clung to him, returning his kisses with equal fervor. Right or wrong this was where she wanted to be right now, here in Adam's arms.

  He laid her gently on their pile of clothes and began to peel off her wet bloomers and camisole. She lay there like some wanton whore, watching him, reveling in the feel of his eyes on her nakedness. Then Adam stretched out over her, pressing his wet, hard male body against her.

  Jessica tried to catch her breath. "No." She shook her head. "I'm not ready to . . . to . . ." Her eyes met his. "I'm a virgin," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

  Water ran in rivulets off Adam's ebony hair onto her bare breasts. "I won't do anything you don't want to do, I swear it. I just want to touch you, Jess, that's all." He kissed her softly. "I've got all the time in the world, sweetheart."

  "Just touching?" she asked.

  He kissed her cheek. "I told you. Nothing you don't want to do."

  She relaxed beneath him, marveling at the new sensations brought on by his entire body pressing against hers. Surprisingly, despite his size, he wasn't heavy. It felt good to be surrounded by him, by his power.

  Adam lowered his face to the valley between her breasts and kissed her. His hot kisses burned a path over her flat belly, down her leg. He stroked her with his hands, caressing every inch of her damp, quaking body.

  Jessica took deep ragged breaths. The darkening sky whirled overhead. There was nothing but Adam and the lightning sensations that riveted her body.

  Adam stretched out beside her and kissed her again, his hand falling to the apex of her thighs. To Jessica's horror, she rose up instinctively to meet his probing fingers. She rolled her head, fighting the waves of pleasure that were coming rhythmically.

  What am I doing? she thought suddenly. We can't do this! We swore we wouldn't! I can't get involved with Adam. I can't fall in love with him!

  She grasped his hand. "Please," she murmured, stilling his motion. She lifted her lashes to meet his gaze, her green eyes pleading. "Please stop, Adam."

  "What is it? What's the matter, sweetheart?" He brushed the wet hair from her cheek and kissed her gently.

  "Oh, God, Adam." She squeezed her eyes shut, mortally embarrassed. "What have I done? What did I let you do?"

  He pushed up on one elbow and caught her chin, turning her head so that she was forced to look at him. "It's what men and women have been doing since the creation. Love is what we were meant for."

  Love, she thought. Just the word petrified her. "We said no more kissing. We said—"

  He pressed his finger to his lips. "I know what we said. I meant it as much as you did that day, but Jess" —he took a deep breath, frightened by the words on the tip of his tongue—"Jess, I'm falling in love with you."

  She swallowed hard. "Don't say that!" She p
ushed him aside and jumped up, snatching her wet bloomers and camisole. "Please don't say that."

  Adam sat up, pushing his wet hair off his shoulder. She had turned her back to him and was fumbling with her clothes, trying to redress. His expression turned hard. "It's because I'm a red man, isn't it?"

  "Don't be silly, it's because—" she took in a sharp breath. She didn't know why—a thousand reasons. Mark . . . her parents' unhappy union . . . Jacob. Jacob said he loved her, but his love was obsessive; it was twisted. If that was what love was to a man, she wanted no part of it.

  "Because why?" Adam demanded. "Where's your courage, Jess? Go ahead and say it." He grasped her shoulders, and spun her around. He was out of control. He was filled with rage. "You'll roll around on a creek bank with a red man, but you could never love one! Is that it?"

  Jessica lifted her balled fist and hit him hard on the jaw.

  Before Adam could stop himself he felt his palm make contact with her cheek. The moment he did it, he was sorry.

  Jessica lifted her hand to her stinging cheek. She opened her mouth to speak and then clamped it shut, feeling tears fill her eyes. Without a word she turned and ran.

  Adam stood frozen for a moment, his hands clamped at his sides. He was shocked, horrified by his behavior. He'd never hit a woman in his life. Dear God, how could I have done such a thing?

  He stared up at the gray sky. The sun had set and darkness was settling in. He had to come to terms with being Ojibwa. His mother had told him that so many years ago. It wasn't how others felt about him, it was how he felt about himself.

  "Jessica!" he called after her. She was still running, stumbling along the bank. "Jessica, I'm sorry." His voice cracked. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll never do it again. I swear to God!"

  She kept running.

  He bolted after her.

  Then she went down, a scream piercing the air.

  "Jessica!" Adam shouted.

  "Adam!" she cried. "Help me!"

  She was only thirty yards away but it seemed like thirty miles as Adam rushed toward her. "What is it?" he called. "What's wrong?"

  "Snake," she answered, her voice so shaky he could barely comprehend her words. "I've been bit."

  Chapter Eleven

  Adam sprinted the last few feet and went down on his knees beside her. Jessica lay crumpled on the ground holding her calf, her eyes shut.

  "Jess?"

  "A snake. A snake bit me and now I'm going to die."

  "You're not going to die." Adam studied her face carefully, watching for fatal signs. He'd once seen a boy die of a snake bite. The childhood friend had gone into convulsions and was dead within minutes of the bite.

  Adam lowered his head, grasping her calf. "Let me see." He squinted. Damn, but it had gotten dark fast. "Where's the bite, Jess? You have to help me."

  "Here." She fumbled with her fingers. "Feel it. Two bumps."

  His fingertips touched the tiny mounds. "What kind of snake?"

  She laid back, suddenly feeling dizzy.

  "Jessica! What kind of snake?"

  She shook her head. "Don't know, but it was a small one. Guess you'll have to cut it and bleed me."

  Adam fingered the bite. He knew he had minutes, maybe seconds, to make a decision that would mean Jessica's life. "I don't know, Jess. If you got a low dose of the venom, you'd be better keeping your blood volume up. It'll dilute the poison."

  She lay on the grass trying to remain calm. "It hurts, Adam. You sure we shouldn't cut it?"

  "My grandmother always took care of the snake bites in our village. If a man made it back to the village, he never died."

  "All I know"—she took a deep breath—"is you cut a snake bite and—and, try to suck out the poison, then let it bleed." Her face suddenly felt hot. Her heart was pounding violently. She was sick to her stomach.

  Adam lifted her head into his lap and stroked the wet hair plastered to her forehead. "Jess, try to listen to me. The bite's not that bad. If it was . . . If it was you'd already be dead."

  Her body started to tremble and she closed her eyes. "C—cold."

  He brushed her forehead with his fingertips. She was flushed. He stood and lifted her into his arms. She leaned against his bare chest, looping her arms around his neck.

  "I'm sorry I hit you, Jess," he told her, kissing her clammy forehead.

  "I hit you first," she answered weakly. "You made me so damned mad. You always think you know what you're talking about, but you don't."

  "I don't care if you hit me first, it's no excuse. There's no excuse for a man to ever hit a woman."

  She thought of the blow she'd received from Jacob just before she and Mark had fled. It had been over spilled sugar. "I'm hot," she murmured. "Why am I shivering?"

  "It's the fever coming on. We'll get these wet clothes off and wrap you up in front of a fire."

  She rested her head in the crook of his neck. He smelled so good. Like the mountains. She remembered the intimacy they had shared only a short time ago. "Thought you said"—she took a deep breath—"we couldn't camp here. Not safe."

  "We'll have to take our chances, but you let me worry about that." He eased her to the ground near the hobbled horses and began to peel off her wet undergarments. She lay there like a babe, too weak to move. She was getting sick so fast that Adam wondered if he shouldn't have bled her. But he knew snake venom affected the nervous system and there were no convulsions, no tremors of the limbs. That was a good sign.

  When he'd stripped her, he redressed her in his dry shirt and wrapped her in his bedroll blanket. He left her to lay on the bank while he walked upstream a short distance looking for a better place to camp. In the darkness he saw nothing but wide open plateau.

  "The promised land," he said aloud. He shook his head, returning to Jessica. They would have to stay here and hope no one dangerous came along. He started a fire with dry grass from the bank. There wasn't much to burn—no wood. He scooped up dried horse chips and dropped them onto the fire. It was smoky but it would keep up a decent blaze.

  Then Adam filled the coffeepot with water from the creek and set it on the spider to heat. He crouched beside Jessica. "Jess, can you hear me?"

  Her teeth chattered. "C—cold. Leg hurts."

  He lifted the blanket letting the firelight fall across her calf. He winced. Vicious red streaks ran lengthwise up her leg. It was swelling, the flesh growing shiny and tight. "You're all right," he soothed. "I'm going to put a mud pack on that leg." His grandmother had always said there wasn't a wound a mud pack wouldn't help.

  Adam went back to the creek and scraped dirt off the bank with his fingernails and mixed it with water and some grass to hold it together. He carried the handful of mud back to where Jessica lay and packed it on the snake bite.

  "Cold," she whimpered. "I'm cold, Adam."

  He picked up his rifle and leaned it within reach. Then he lay down and drew Jessica into his arms. "Try not to move," he whispered in her ear. "Let that mud harden. It'll draw out the poison."

  She snuggled against him, her whole body quaking with chills. She was hot to the touch. Adam was burning up beneath the bedroll blanket and the saddle blanket he'd added, but he lay there, holding her, trying to comfort her.

  The moon rose high in the sky and the stars came twinkling through the blanket of night. Jessica slept while Adam kept vigil, praying . . . thinking.

  She had hurt him today. He had told her what he had never told any woman before and she had rebuked him. She'd become angry at the thought of his love. He blinked back the moisture that seeped into his eyes. Was he never meant to have that love between a man and a woman that was so precious? His father and mother had been happy together. Even his grandparents had a bond that had gone unbroken to their death. Adam wanted to love, to be loved like that.

  He stared up at the constellations. She said it wasn't because his skin was red, but he knew she'd lied. It was the way all white men felt. Wasn't that why he kept running?

  Dawn came
and still Adam stayed awake. Jessica had slept fitfully, her fever raging. As the sun rose she grew quiet and he sat up staring at her lovely ashen face. Her breathing had grown faint and for a moment he feared she was dying.

  "Jess, don't leave me. I can love you if you'll just let me. I can prove to you that it doesn't matter what color a man's skin is. I'm the same as you inside." He clasped her hand, raising it to his lips. "Jess, can you hear me?"

  Her eyelids fluttered.

  "Jessica?"

  She tried to moisten her lips. "Sorry, so sorry," she croaked.

  "Shhh." He smoothed her hair as he crooned softly. "It's all right. Just sleep. I'll be here, Jess."

  Adam kept vigil all day, through the night and through the following day. Her fever rose and fell and then rose again. Her leg grew so swollen that it looked to Adam as if it might burst, but he kept applying mud packs and finally the swelling began to subside. At sunset on the third day Jessica stirred, calling out to him.

  Adam came running along the bank, a dead rabbit flung over his shoulder. "Jess?"

  "Water," she said, her voice barely audible. Her head was pounding and her entire body ached as if she'd been in a brawl. But the pain told her she was alive.

  He flung down the rabbit and quickly brought her back a cup of water.

  She tried to hold the cup but her hands shook so badly that all she could do was splash water down the shirt she wore. She laughed weakly as he pushed her hands aside.

  "Let me help." He knelt and pushed back a corner of the makeshift tarp he'd constructed to keep the sun off her during the day. He brought the cup to her lips and watched her drink. God, he was glad to hear her voice. He'd come so close to losing her that it frightened him to think about it.

  When she'd had her fill, she fell back on Hera's saddle. Just lifting her head had exhausted her. She stared up at Adam who watched her anxiously. "I'm all right," she whispered, reaching up to stroke his bearded cheek. "Thank you for taking care of me. I thought I was going to die."

  He covered her hand with his. She was warm to the touch but not hot like she'd been. "I didn't do much—pour a little water down you, keep a pack on your leg." He shrugged.