Adam slammed his fist on the table and several passengers turned to stare. "I just saw you walk by with a plate of duck!"
"That must have been the last serving."
"Adam, let's just go," Jessica murmured.
Adam held up a finger. "Just what do you have?"
The waiter paused. "Oxtail, maybe a few sweetbreads."
Adam slammed down the menu. "Just bring us something. Now for wine, we would like a chilled bottle of Chateau-du-pape."
"I'm sorry. We served our last bottle not an hour ago."
Adam let out a string of curses. "Then bring me a damned bottle of your Chateau Margaux!"
The waiter smiled, his gray-eyed gaze falling on Adam's bronze face. "I'm sorry," he said with exaggerated politeness. "The wine list is incorrect. We have no Chateau Margaux."
Before Jessica knew what was happening, Adam had leaped from his seat and grasped the waiter by the lapel of his black coat. "You son of a bitch," he shouted, enraged. "How dare you treat me like this in front of my guest!"
The waiter gave a yelp as Adam lifted him off his feet and slammed him on the table across the aisle.
The two women seated at the table screamed as crystal and china shattered and food was knocked into their laps and onto the floor.
The dining car broke into pandemonium. Women screamed and men scrambled to get a better view of the commotion.
Jessica jumped up and rushed for Adam. "Adam, don't hurt him!" she shouted, pulling at his broad shoulders. "He's not worth it!"
Adam pulled back his fist, blinded by fury. How the hell could a woman ever love him, ever be a part of his life when he couldn't get a damned waiter to serve him supper! God but he hated the color of his skin!
"Adam!" he heard in his ear again. The sound of Jessica's voice, her sweet, strong voice made him lower his fist.
The waiter cried like a baby as Adam raised him off the table and brought the man's contorted face within inches of his own. "The lady and I are retiring to our private car. We'll expect the salmon, the lobster salad and the Chateau-du-pape within the hour. I don't care if you have to catch the fish yourself, if my request is not honored, I'll—" Adam leaned forward and whispered into the waiter's ear.
The waiter's face went pale. "Y—yes, sir. Right away, sir."
"Adam," Jessica said calmly, her fingers sinking into his forearm. She could feel the iron strength of his muscles clenched in bitter anger. "Let go of him."
Adam released the waiter's coat, smoothed the lapel of his own black dinner jacket, and followed Jessica down the aisle of the dining car.
When they were back in their private car, Jessica turned to face him. "What did you whisper to that waiter?"
"It's not something I care to repeat to a lady."
"Why do you get so angry with people like that? They don't matter to us."
'1 have a right to be served in that dining car like anyone else!"
"I know you do, but you don't have a right to kill that man."
Adam stomped across the carpeted floor, taking a swipe at a glass Jessica had left on a table. It shattered as it hit the papered wall.
She flinched. She hadn't realized how much rage lurked beneath the surface of his calm, cool exterior. She hadn't realized just how hard it was for him to have skin a different color from hers.
"Adam—"
"Don't say anything," he said through clenched teeth, his back to her. "Don't say a word! Nothing can change the way the world looks on me. I can't blame you, Jess, for not wanting to love me. Who would give up their life to be with a man who would always subject her to this!"
Jessica could hear the tears in his voice. She could see his broad shoulders quivering. Her heart ached so badly for him that she could feel her own eyes tearing over. She went to him and put her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his broad back. She smelled the scent of the dye in his new coat. She could smell that familiar, masculine, woodsy scent that dung to him, that reminded her of his bare bronze skin. She thought of the taste of his flesh on the tip of her tongue.
"Adam."
He made no response.
"Adam." Slowly she came around him until she was looking into his black eyes. "Adam, I do love you," she whispered. "I didn't want to. Honestly, I still don't want to, but I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone." She wiped a tear from his cheek with her fingertips.
Adam squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't remember having ever cried in his adult life and here he was bawling in front of the woman he wanted to make his wife. "I've made a fool of myself," he said. "I embarrassed you."
"No." She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. "You didn't."
"I shouldn't have lost control."
"You shouldn't have, but you did." She kissed him again, her tongue darting out to touch his lower lip. "So what! You're only human. You didn't break any bones, only a few dishes."
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. "Christ, I love you," he whispered.
This time when she kissed him, he opened his mouth, letting her slip her tongue in to sample the taste of him. Their kiss was long and demanding, driven by his anger and her compassion.
When she finally pulled back, gasping for breath, her fingers were already seeking the buttons of his coat. She slipped his arms from it and tossed it to the floor. Then came his starched white shirt. She wanted to brush the tip of her tongue over his hard nipples. She wanted to slip her hand into the waistband of his pants and feel him hot and throbbing, in her hand.
"Jess," Adam crooned as she shed his shirt and brought her mouth to his chest. "Jess, what do I do?"
"Shh," she murmured. "Do? For tonight you just let me love you. You were there when I needed you. Need me, please, just for tonight. Let me be the strong one. Let me drown your pain."
He threaded his fingers through her thick hair, pulling out the hairpins one by one. She kissed his neck; she sucked one nipple and then the other.
Adam groaned. His fingers found the opening at the back of her shirtwaist. When he couldn't slip the tiny shell buttons through the buttonholes, he ripped them off with one impatient jerk.
Jessica laughed deep in her throat as his mouth found the soft flesh between her breasts. He yanked her corset cover over her head and pulled at the laces of her corset until her breasts were free beneath the sheer chemise.
Jessica's hands flew over the buttons of her skirt and she stepped out of it. Adam helped her with the ruffled petticoat. They kissed as they fondled. He brought his mouth to her breast and left a round, damp spot on her whisper-thin chemise. She threw back her head in ecstasy, combing her fingers through his hair until she had released it from the single black ribbon that held it back.
Adam slipped the lacy chemise over her head and then took her in his arms and knelt, laying her on the carpet. Jessica pulled his head down to her breasts, writhing as his hands covered every inch of her pale skin. Each time he kissed her, on her neck, her belly, between her thighs, his hair fell to tickle her awakening flesh.
She was alive with sensation. She wanted no gentle wooing. She wanted to be loved, to love, hard and fast. She wanted to feel with every inch of her being. She wanted to rid herself and Adam of the pain of life, if only for a little while.
She caught Adam's hands and rolled him off her and onto his back. She straddled him and worked the buttons of his tailored trousers. He groaned as her fingertips grasped his burgeoning rod. She stroked him, glorying in the sound of his raspy, ardent voice.
She flattened herself over him, grinding her hips against his, her breath matching his in pace. "You want to change places?" she whispered, nipping the lobe of his ear with her teeth.
"No," he answered. "Stay here, where I can see you."
She giggled. "I couldn't."
"You could." He caught her hands and entwined their fingers. "Just go easy. We've got a whole lifetime ahead of us, Ki-ti-hi."
The unfamiliar word buzzed in her head as she closed her eyes, s
avoring the feel of Adam hard and throbbing between her legs. Taking a deep breath she lifted up and took him inside, crying out with pleasure at the unfamiliar sensation. For a moment she sat still, savoring his warmth and then she began to rock. He held her hands, calling her, moaning.
Jessica became acutely aware of the steady rhythm of the train as it rumbled north. She heard her own breath mingled with Adam's. She smelled that hot, pungent odor of lovemaking. She felt Adam's hands, strong and masculine in hers. Her entire body was alive with utter pleasure. She wanted it to go on forever. But that need deep within her to move faster was overpowering. Adam released her hands to cup her buttocks in encouragement. She heard him gasp and the sound of his voice in her ears made her climax with sudden intensity. She cried out in rapture as the waves of fulfillment came again and again. Finally she collapsed on Adam, laughing, crying.
He took her in his arms and kissed her damp brow. He pulled a coverlet off the back of a chair and threw it over them, tucking it over her shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured in her ear.
She kissed him, stroking his jaw. "For what?"
"I don't know, just for being here, I guess." He kissed her softly on the mouth and she closed her eyes with a smile.
"Could we sleep here?" She snuggled in his arms, suddenly so tired she couldn't keep her eyes open.
"Anywhere you want," he answered. "Anywhere on the face of this earth . . ."
Chapter Twenty-One
For the next few days, Adam and Jessica remained in their private Pullman car. They had their meals brought in by a porter and slept, sprawled on pillows, on the plush carpet. They played backgammon and poker. They laughed and talked, and laughed some more. They talked about meaningless things; they talked about things closest to their hearts. Their conversations ranged from how to skin a rabbit properly, to the politics behind the War Between the States. But they carefully skirted the subject of the future, of their future. They seemed to be feeling each other out, wrestling with their own doubts and dreams.
Late one afternoon Jessica sat cross-legged in a chair, cradling a bone china cup of chamomile tea. She wore a wool shawl over her chemise to ward off the chill of the September air. She stared out the window at the glorious mountains as the train chugged its way through the Wenatchees. Their journey was drawing to an end. By this evening they'd reach Seattle. Adam anticipated that within the week they would have Caine. A part of her was excited at the thought of finally reeking her revenge. Again and again she had dreamed of pulling the trigger on her pistol. But a part of her was frightened at the thought that decisions would then have to be made concerning her and Adam's future.
She loved Adam, she knew that, but if he asked her to give up her orchard to go back to Utah with him, what would she say? The dream of her orchard was too important to her to cast aside, even for Adam. She and Mark had left Tennessee to buy land and grow apples in Washington territory. She owed it to Mark, to herself. But she couldn't very well ask Adam to give up his job with the Union Pacific . . .
She sighed, glancing up at him stretched out on the floor, a book propped in his hand. Of course when he found out she intended to kill Caine, perhaps all of her worries would be moot. Adam was determined to bring the man to justice. But justice wasn't enough for Jessica; she wanted blood. She had decided she wouldn't discuss it with Adam; she saw no need. If he thought she had given up the idea of avenging Mark's death, that was his problem. She didn't want to spoil what might be the last few days she would ever spend with him over a difference of opinion. She wasn't going to change her mind and he wasn't going to change his.
Adam looked up, catching her watching him. He smiled. "What?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. I was just thinking what a good time I've had. How special you've made these last few days."
"It has been fun, hasn't it?" He laid aside his book and propped himself up on one elbow. He'd shed his fancy suit for an old pair of clean dungarees, a flannel shirt, and red wool socks. His snakeskin boots stood near the door. He had tied his thick mane of glossy black hair back with a red satin ribbon he'd borrowed from her. To Jessica he never looked as handsome as he looked at this moment. His bronze face was ruggedly masculine, yet there was a light in his black eyes that spoke of tenderness and love.
The thought that she might lose Adam, that she probably would, made her want to cry, to scream, to shout. The world was so unfair. If only there'd been no Jacob Dorchester, wouldn't her life have been different? Mark wouldn't be dead. But then she'd never have traveled west. She'd never have met Adam. She'd never have known what it was to love. It was so painfully ironic . . . the loss of Mark's life had brought her this love. Adam's inability to save Mark had given her the chance to experience what she knew she would never experience again.
Jessica's eyes clouded with tears and she looked away, unable to stand the scrutiny of Adam's gaze. He rose and came to her.
"Tell me."
She lifted her chin. Her eyes met his and she shook her head.
Adam sighed and reached down, taking her in his arms. He sat in her chair, with her on his lap. "You're a stubborn woman, Jessica Landon."
She rested her head on his broad chest, stroking his muscular arm through the soft, worn flannel. "It's all going to end, isn't it?"
"It doesn't have to end," he whispered. His breath was warm on her cheek.
"There're too many complications," she argued. Her tears were making a wet spot on his shirt. "You don't know the half of it."
"Jess—" Adam started to speak, then held his tongue. He'd sworn to himself that he'd be patient. If he wanted this woman, if he wanted all of her, heart and soul, he had to bide his time. If he tried to force her to tell him why she was running, he would lose her. He imagined her disappearing into the darkness never to be seen again. No. He had to let her offer the pieces to the puzzle. Perhaps, once Larry Caine was safely in jail, she would be able to forgive Adam for the part she felt he played in Mark's death. Perhaps then she would tell him why she had fled Tennessee. Once there were no secrets, she would have no reason not to marry him. He thought of the daughter he had always wanted and he smiled.
Jessica brushed Adam's cheek with her hand and pressed a kiss to his lips. "We should be getting our gear together," she told him.
"We should." He returned her kiss, then brought his lips down the soft curve of her neck to the hollow at her shoulders. He pushed aside the wool shawl and ran his tongue along the lace of the neckline of her chemise.
"But maybe," she went on. "Maybe we should make love one last time here in our traveling hotel room." Her voice was husky with rising desire, warm with humor.
Adam reached behind his head, caught the red tasseled window shade, and drew it down, leaving them in semidarkness. "Maybe," he whispered in her ear as he brought his hand up to cup her breast. "Maybe you're right . . ."
When the train screeched into the station in Seattle, Jessica and Adam disembarked and he went to see about having Zeus and Hera unloaded. Adam had suggested that Jessica wait in their car for him, but she was restless. The train had been wonderful, but she'd had her fill of first-class service. She needed to stretch her legs and breathe the fresh, crisp night air.
Jessica wandered along the train depot platform watching families reunite. She thought of the Wiedenhoefts and her apple tree saplings and wondered if they had reached their destination. Were they somewhere right here in Seattle having their supper? She hoped so. She knew it would be possible for her to purchase saplings, new saplings if necessary, but she wanted the ones she and Mark had brought from Tennessee. Somehow, as long as those trees lived, a part of Mark would live.
Jessica sat on the platform step and swept off her fashionable straw bonnet. She ran her hand through her curled hair. It was fun, dressing like a lady, wearing ribbons and lace, but a part of her yearned to slip into her soft leather riding boots, a split skirt, and her wide-brimmed black hat and ride like the wind. She wasn't a woman meant to be cooped up in parlors. Champ
agne was delightful, but so was a cool sip from a canteen on a hot afternoon.
"I found you at last."
Jessica blinked. Who had said that? She whipped around, stumbling to her feet. She knew the voice, but prayed she was wrong. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met his gray ones. "Jacob," she said softly.
"Jessica, love, finally I've found you!" The gray-haired man looked genuinely relieved. He came down the platform steps. "Jessica, you must come home with me at once." He laid his hand on her sleeve and she jerked back as if she'd been burnt.
"Home with you?" Her laugh was bitter. His words had snapped her out of her stupor. "My home isn't with you! You sold my home out from under me!"
"There's no need to quarrel here in public, my darling." He glanced uneasily at the people who milled around. "Let's find a hotel room and get you into bed. You must be exhausted from the long train ride. I know I am. We can talk tomorrow."
She could feel her hands trembling. She was tempted to turn and run. She owed this man no explanation! But she remembered how hard it had been for her to leave him, how intimidated she had once felt beneath his gaze. She'd been a girl, a frightened girl, that night when she'd fled his home, but now she was a woman. The fear was gone. There was nothing left but anger.
She dropped a hand on her hip. "Jacob! You didn't hear what I said. You've never heard what I said. I'm not going with you. I want you to go away and I don't ever want to see you again!"
"Jessica!" He lowered his voice, speaking through clenched teeth. "Your behavior has been inexcusable. I have had to take all of this time off work to come and fetch you. Now get your bags and come along." He looked around. "Where's that worthless brother of yours? I suppose he shall have to come as well."
"He's dead."
His face was oddly blank. "Dead?"
"Killed in a train robbery weeks ago."
Jacob adjusted his bowler hat. "I'm sorry, dear."
"No you're not. You're not sorry. You never liked Mark."
"He was an ill-behaved child."
"You were going to send him away."
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