by Ana Leigh
“You better hope so, Aunt Andrea.”
“But Don’s sleeping. I hate to wake him.”
“I’m awake,” Don murmured.
“I think Rico’s building you a cot,” Jenny said.
“He doesn’t have to do that. The ground is good enough.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to tell him that yourself, because if I go back with that message, he’ll kill the messenger.”
Laughing, Andrea started to roll Don over carefully. “We can’t have that, can we?”
Devilishness danced in Jenny’s eyes when they finished extracting the blanket from under Don. “I’m afraid if Rico succeeds in building this cot, it won’t hold the both of you tonight.” Chuckling, she left them.
As soon as she gave the blanket to Rico, he slit a hole in each corner, looped a hank of rope through each hole, pulled them taut, and tied them to the stakes. When he finished, he climbed on the cot and stretched out. “Jenny, come here and lie down.”
She came over and stood at the side of the cot. “It’s not wide enough for both of us.”
“I’m not testing the width. I want to see how much weight it will hold. Masters has a few pounds on me.”
She threw back her head with mockery. “Do you actually believe I would lie down on top of you?”
His eyes challenged her. “Not even for Don’s sake? I can’t believe this wouldn’t be better for him than the cold ground.”
“Very well, I’ll sit down on top of you.”
“As you wish,” he said, amused.
When Jenny tried to step over his prone body and straddle him, her foot got caught in her gown and she started to fall forward. Rico caught her, preventing the fall, and for the instant of a drawn breath they stared startled into each other’s eyes.
Embarrassed, she murmured, “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
There was no amusement in his eyes when he whispered, “I’m not, Princess.”
He flattened her against the length of his body. Sliding his arms down her back, he looped them lightly across her hips. The contact provoked an excitement she’d never felt before. Pressed against his solid chest, the sensation escalated.
Their gazes locked again, and he recognized the blend of fright and excitement in her emerald eyes. Raw lust surged through him and he tightened his hold on her. Her gasp of shock when he swelled against her excited him more.
“Are you going to release me?”
The breathlessness in the question became more of an inducement than a rejection. He slid a hand to the nape of her neck and drew her head down and covered her mouth with his, devouring it in a hungry kiss he’d been thinking about from the time he’d first looked into those incredible eyes of hers, and every time she had opened her mouth to sass him. Her mouth parted in a sigh of surrender as she closed her eyes and returned the kiss.
He felt the shudder that swept her beneath his fingertips and he slid his hand lower and cupped her rear, pressing her even tighter against him. Her rounded curves cushioned against him felt good. Warm. Soft. He burned to touch her breasts, to taste them.
Breathlessness forced them to break the kiss, and she leaned her cheek against his chest. He buried his head in her hair and thought of the next kiss.
“Let me go, Rico,” she murmured when she had regained her breath.
He knew he should apologize, but he feared any words would only lead to an argument. He released her and she got to her feet. Her face was flushed as she looked down at him, but there was neither anger nor friendliness in her eyes.
He stood as well. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to start a fire,” he teased. “I guess I was wrong, and you’re to be congratulated. Jenny, I didn’t intend to embarrass you or prove anything. It was spontaneous and got out of hand. But I’m not sorry I did it.”
“You shouldn’t be. You build a good cot, Dan’l Boone.”
Perplexed, he scratched his chin as she walked away. What in hell did she mean by that? He shrugged and returned to his labor.
Both Andrea and Don had dozed off. Jenny wished she could do the same and put the incident with Rico out of her mind, but that was impossible—her feelings were too turbulent.
She sat down and leaned back against the granite wall. What had just happened between them was nothing more than a physical attraction. But no soldier had ever caught her fancy, nor any rancher’s son or town merchant. So why did she find Rico Fraser desirable?
She could tell herself that it was because he was heroic. That like the knights of old, he rode out to defend the helpless, to fight the dragons, to rescue fair maidens.
She snorted. When Rico Fraser rode out, it was to collect a reward. She recognized the need to uphold principles like duty, honor, and justice. But pursuing someone for money was reprehensible to her.
So why did his touch excite her to the point of surrender? Knowing he was near, she wanted to be even nearer, to feel the exciting energy he generated. And to her further distress, she wanted to experience the climax of that incredible sensation he had aroused within her. Now it was an unfulfilled desire until he did, and she would have to fight that temptation. The wisest way would be to avoid him whenever possible. Hopefully they could leave this place tomorrow, and once home, she would be rid of him once and for all.
With that firm resolve, Jenny stood up, brushed off her skirt, and walked over to see what he was doing.
Over the cot he had strung a rope around the trunks between four trees, making an approximately six-foot square.
“Don should have some food to help strengthen him, but you said to save the remaining jerky and nuts for the trip home,” she said as an excuse for approaching him. She wanted to show it was back to business between them. “What do you think we should do?”
“Eat them. When I finish what I’m doing, I’ll try to find some more.” He grunted as he lifted a long, leafy tree limb.
“What are you doing?”
Once again he was shirtless as he lifted and arranged the heavy branches. He continued to lay the long limbs horizontally across the top of the strung rope until they formed a solid layer.
“I’m building us some cover before it starts to rain. Masters is too feverish to let him get wet.” He laid another layer of branches crossways on top of the first one.
“As long as that rope holds we should have a roof over our heads, at least,” he said. “I’m going to create the sides next. Meanwhile, could you gather up some smaller branches for a fire later?”
“Certainly.”
By the time Jenny returned with her arms full of wood, Rico had propped enough leafy limbs against the roof to close up three sides of the square. Despite the shelter’s crudeness, it would keep them dry.
“This is very clever of you, Rico,” Jenny said.
“Let’s just hope that a strong wind doesn’t accompany the rain.”
He strung another length of rope between the trees next to the shelter and roofed off a smaller area.
“Are you constructing private quarters for the women?” Jenny asked, very pleased at the idea.
Perspiration covered his brow and his muscular shoulders and chest. “No, your highness, this is for the horses,” he replied gruffly. “I don’t want to let them stand out in the rain all night. If they get sickly, we’ll never get back to that damn fort.”
“My, Dan’l, your consideration for everyone is truly commendable.” She chanted,
“Of course, of course,
Protect the horse.
Nothing’s worse, I’m told,
Than a horse with a cold.”
The briefest of grins lit his expression, then he replied,
“Your attempt at rhyme,
Is a waste of time.
Let’s get on with this cot,
For a poet you’re not.”
Her eyes rounded in amusement, and this time his grin was broader. “As soon as I move Masters into this shelter, I’ll go hunting. Do you think you could manage to tote his saddle and sa
ddlebags into the shelter while I’m gone?”
“I’ll try,” she said, returning his sarcasm.
He started to pull her against him with a grin, but she held him at arm’s length. “I do not appreciate being mauled by someone dripping with perspiration.”
“Princess, you’ve lived a sheltered life. You don’t know what you’re miss—”
“Spare me the details, sir.”
Jenny left the shelter and Rico followed her over to Don and Andrea. He lifted Don into his arms, carried him into the shelter, and laid him on the cot.
“This should be more comfortable, Masters.”
“It is. I’m sorry to be such a problem. I can’t believe what you did here.”
“I agree, you’re amazing, Rico,” Andrea exclaimed. “I wasn’t looking forward to getting soaking wet when the rain begins.”
Rico wiped off the perspiration and pulled a shirt over his head. “I’ve got orders to find us something to eat,” he said, and hooked the two canteens to the saddle. “Hopefully I’ll be back before it starts to rain.”
“And I bet I know who issued those orders. Why don’t you go with him, Jenny?” Andrea said.
“Sure, come along,” Rico said. “It will break up the boredom of your day.”
“Or increase it,” Jenny declared, unable to suppress her grin.
“Will you be okay until we get back, Andrea?” Rico asked.
“Of course. I have Don’s pistol and rifle. If there’s a problem, I’ll fire the rifle twice.”
“And I can sit up and fire a Colt if I have to,” Don said.
Rico mounted Bucephalus, reached down a hand and pulled Jenny up in front of him.
“Don’t think I’m not wise to what you have in mind, Rico Fraser. Keep your hands to yourself, and do not attempt to kiss me again.”
“Miss Jenny, I have only your interests at heart. I could tell you needed something to keep you occupied. Idleness can be as dangerous as any disease or wound. So I want you to enjoy this outing, instead of hoping I’ll kiss you.”
“Hoping!” She laughed and said, “You do have an amusing imagination, Dan’l. I think I’ll enjoy this little outing, after all,” and leaned back against him.
9
Andrea gazed worriedly at Don. His eyes were closed and despite his brave front, she knew he was in pain every time he moved. Fear lurked in her heart that the wounds might become infected before they could get him proper medical care. She put a hand to his brow—he still felt feverish. If only they had something to fight it.
When she started to remove her hand, he suddenly reached up and grasped it. “Don’t take it away. It feels good.”
“I’m sorry I woke you,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter. I keep drifting in and out of sleep.” Disgusted, he said, “This damn fever keeps me weak and useless.”
“I was just wishing we had something to give you for it. Since you’re awake right now, I’ll change your bandages.”
“Dare I ask where you got bandages?”
“I cut my petticoat into strips.”
As Andrea removed the blood-soaked compresses that covered his wounds, she could feel his gaze. Drawn to it, she stopped what she was doing and looked deeply into his blue eyes. Then she blushed and returned her attention to his wounds.
“Are you aware that everything about you is beautiful, Andrea?” he murmured.
“I fear you’re becoming more feverish, Captain Masters.” Her light banter disguised the turmoil in her heart.
Andrea poured water onto some cloth and began to sponge his face and neck. His flesh felt hot beneath her fingertips. “Does this make you feel a little better?”
“Not as much as your touch does.”
She met his gaze again, and once more her pulses pounded at the look in his eyes. Fearing he would read her thoughts, she turned her head.
“Please don’t turn away, Andrea.” He reached up and tipped her chin toward him, then he gently caressed her cheek. “Your face is the best medicine I could ever hope for.”
Andrea returned breathlessly, “’Tis said that a patient often falls in love with the woman who nurses him.”
Don managed to chuckle. “I already was in love with the last woman who nursed me.”
His words stabbed at her heart. “Were you wounded in the war?”
“No, I managed to get through that unscathed. It was my mother, my precious Andrea. She nursed me through measles and mumps; she set my broken arm when I fell out of a tree; massaged my aching body after the first time I rode a horse; and she stitched up my leg when I gashed it climbing a neighbor’s fence after stealing apples from his tree.”
Andrea couldn’t believe her ears. Had he really called her “his precious Andrea”? “Is your mother still alive, Don?”
“No, she died shortly after the war ended. My father was a colonel in the army and was killed at Gettysburg. It broke my mother’s heart, and she never got over his loss. She told me just before she died that she only stayed alive long enough to make sure I survived the war.”
“Oh, Don, how sad. I’m so sorry. Did you choose a military career to please your father?”
“No. I joined because he was my hero. I loved and respected him. He told me a career was my choice to make, and said, ‘All I ask is that you make sure you’re good at it.’”
Don’s expression shifted to regret. “He should see me now. Useless and flat on my back from a couple of simple wounds.”
“Perhaps the leg wound, but the one to your shoulder is not a simple one. I know what damage a rifle blast can do to a body, and Rico said you were fortunate. A couple inches lower and the bullet could have torn your shoulder off. But there doesn’t appear to be any internal damage; it was a clean wound. It’s the fever and loss of blood that’s keeping you flat on your back.”
Drowsiness had returned to overtake him, for he closed his eyes as he clasped her hand. “But I have a good nurse to care for me,” he murmured before he drifted back to sleep.
For a long time Andrea gazed lovingly at the sleeping man. Then she raised their clasped hands to her lips and pressed a kiss on his.
“I love you, Captain Donald Masters,” she whispered tenderly. Dare she hope he felt the same about her, or were his words merely said in feverish gratitude? No matter, she would remember these moments for the rest of her life.
“Enjoying the outing, Princess?” Rico asked as they rode through a wooded area. He had tried a new direction and had come upon a lush, grassy tableland abounding with leafy oak, mountain laurel, and sweet-smelling pine trees. Patches of wildflowers and bushy shrubs convinced him there was a source of water nearby. If it was a stream, it might be a source of fish.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Jenny exclaimed. “And it’s a pleasure to relax and not fear having to hide from pursuers. I hope you won’t spoil it by making physical advances toward me.”
“I said I wouldn’t. But maybe you came because you hoped I would.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I came out of boredom,” she scoffed.
He chuckled. “Whatever you say, Princess. But I’m only here to find us some food and water.” He reined up. “And I think I might have found what I’m looking for.” Sliding off the back of the horse, he lifted her down and then walked over to two boulders set in a particularly green area. Water poured through a narrow gap between the rocks like a fountain and flowed into a stream. And silver streaks flashed back and forth in the water.
“Mountain trout,” he told Jenny. “We’re going to have fresh fish for dinner today, Princess. Could you gather up some of those chestnuts over there while I catch us some fish?”
“As you wish, Dan’l,” she said lightly.
Within moments, Rico had carved a limb into a spear and waded into the stream. Jenny began gathering nuts. After stuffing several handfuls of them into his saddlebag, she decided it was enough—this opportunity was too good to waste. She ducked behind a bush, pulled off her gown and removed a
ll her underclothes. Then she put her gown back on and gathered up the undergarments. So as not to disrupt Rico, who was standing ankle deep in the water spearing fish, she went a little farther downstream.
When she finished washing her underclothes, she spread them out on some bushes to dry.
“How are you doing?” she called to Rico.
“Good. A couple more and we’ll have enough for a meal tonight.”
Jenny began picking wildflowers, then sat down to make a bouquet. Rico soon joined her carrying six trout strung on a vine. He glanced at her clothing stretched out on the bushes.
“What happened? Did you fall in?”
“No, I washed my underclothes.”
“You washed them! How did you manage to do that without Andrea?”
His remark irritated her, but she held back a retort. “Rico, will you cut off a piece of this vine so I can tie these flowers together?”
He did so and handed it to her. “What do you intend to do with those flowers?”
“I thought they might cheer up Captain Masters.”
He snorted. “I think a dose of quinine would be a better cure.”
Rico’s mockery struck a nerve. “Must you spoil this day by making an issue about a few wildflowers? Is it truly that disturbing to you, or are you just trying to start an argument again?”
“What’s disturbing me is knowing you have nothing on under your gown, Miss Jenny. It makes a man forget his good intentions.”
His grin showed that his bad humor had passed, and she relaxed, and smiled back.
“Since you pride yourself on being a man of your word, I’m sure you have the willpower to suppress whatever thoughts may have entered your head.”
“I’m trying, but you sure can jumble a man’s brain, Jenny.”
She raised the bouquet to her nose and drew in a deep breath of the sweet fragrance, unconscious of how the feminine gesture only added to his mounting desire for her.
“Don’t you like the scent of flowers, Rico?”