Madeline Baker

by Prairie Heat

  Mattie felt all her senses come alive as Jess kissed her eyes, her cheek. His mouth was warm as it moved to her neck, his tongue like a burning brand as it seared her skin, evoking shivers of delight that made her tingle all over. His hands played in her hair, caressed the back of her neck, gently cupped her breast. She felt his lips in her hair, against her cheek, and then pressing against her breast, his breath penetrating the layers of cloth to warm the skin below.

  Desire uncurled deep in her belly, like a leaf unfolding to the sun, and she moaned softly as he began to undress her, his lips raining kisses on her bared shoulders, along the inside of her arm, across her navel. She was drowning in pleasure. Heavy-lidded with passion, she watched him undress, quickly averting her gaze as he began to unfasten his clout.

  She gave a little gasp as he stretched out beside her and she felt his long length next to hers. His skin was smooth, his body hard and lean. Any protest she might have made was blotted out as he kissed her. There was nothing hurried in his movements, and he kissed her with infinite care as he molded her body to his. How marvelously we fit together, Mattie thought. As if we had always been meant to be one.

  His hands caressed her, arousing her, sweeping her into a maelstrom of emotion and sensation. She forgot to be modest now, forgot her shyness as she boldly explored McCord’s body, marveling at its masculine beauty, at the muscles that bulged and rippled beneath her questing fingertips. He kissed away all her doubts and fears, his sweet words filling her heart with joy. He was dark and beautiful in the pale light of the moon, his gray eyes ablaze with desire as he kissed her again, and yet again.

  She stiffened for only a moment as their bodies became one. There was a brief stab of pain, but he kissed it away and then he was a part of her, filling her, making her complete. Mattie closed her eyes, surrendering to the wonder of it. Here was all the love she had ever wanted, all the affection that had been denied her for so long.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to Jess as the only reality in a world that had suddenly gone wild. He was caressing her, his voice husky as he whispered Apache love words in her ear, and she was reaching for something, reaching, reaching, and just when she was certain she would never find it, she felt the sun explode within her, suffusing her with heat and light and a growing sense of wonder, and peace.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sun rose against a cloudless blue sky, bringing with it a rush of guilt and regret.

  Mattie refused to meet McCord’s gaze. She had behaved abominably, and the knowledge of what she had done the night before weighed heavily on her mind. She had betrayed Josiah Thornton in the worst possible way, had made a mockery of her wedding vows, and had cheapened herself not only in the eyes of Jess McCord, but in her own eyes as well. She could never face him again. And what of Josiah? How could she tell him what she had done? He was expecting a virgin bride, not a piece of soiled goods.

  Jess saw his own guilt mirrored in Mattie’s eyes. He had bedded another man’s wife, been unfaithful to Kathleen’s memory. She had not yet been dead a year and he was already seeking comfort in the arms of another woman. And a married woman at that!

  He had no appetite for breakfast, and neither did Mattie.

  An hour after dawn, Jess lifted Mattie into the saddle. She stiffened at his touch, and he released her as if he’d been burned. Turning on his heel, he swung onto his own mount.

  It was the longest day of Matilda’s life. She rode behind McCord, fighting the urge to cry. As the hours passed and the sun spread its warmth over the face of the land, she felt as though she were riding through the bowels of hell. And it was no worse than she deserved, she thought bleakly. She was a fallen woman, no better than a harlot.

  In spite of herself, she found her gaze lingering on Jess McCord’s broad back. He rode like one born to the saddle, his body swaying to the rhythm of the big gray gelding. He seemed impervious to the heat, to the dust, to everything around him, including Matilda Thornton.

  At noon, they reached a small waterhole flanked by low-lying shrubs and a few scrawny cottonwoods. Mattie started to dismount when McCord appeared at her side.

  Reaching up, he placed his hands on either side of her waist, lifting her easily from the back of her horse. And still he held her, trapping her between the hard wall of his body and that of her horse.

  “I’m sorry, Mattie,” he said quietly, his voice filled with self-reproach. “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

  She nodded curtly, biting down on her lower lip to keep from crying. Somehow, the fact that he was sorry only served to make everything worse. Because, deep down inside, too deep for lies, was the real truth. She was not sorry for having let Jess make love to her. Guilty, yes. Sorry, no.

  Abruptly, Jess released her. Taking up the reins of their horses, he led the animals to the waterhole. Squatting on his heels, Jess stared into the water. He’d told Mattie he was sorry in hopes of making her feel better, but he realized now that he wasn’t sorry. He had wanted her, and making love to her had been like a balm, healing some of the hurt left by Kathleen’s death. Kathleen. He could think of her now without pain, remembering the good times they had shared, the love that had bound them together. She had been his wife for three wonderful years, and he knew he would not have traded the time they shared for anything in the world. She’d been the best thing that had ever happened to him, bolstering his confidence, assuring him that he was just as good as anyone else. With time, she had even managed to convince a few of her friends to accept him. He had been welcome in their homes, and they smiled at him when they passed him on the street.

  The three years he’d spent with Kathleen had been the happiest of his life. They were a part of him, woven into the fabric of his life, just as her memory was a part of him, would always be a part of him. So long as he lived, Kathleen would live in his mind and in his heart.

  Jess rocked back on his heels, then let out a long sigh as his thoughts turned to Mattie. Last night, lying in her arms, he realized that he still had a lot to live for, that he could love again if he’d only give himself the chance. Love. It wasn’t a word he used often.

  He swore under his breath. He had done Matilda Thornton and her husband a great wrong, and it weighed heavily on his mind. He’d had no right to make love to Mattie, no right to seduce her into breaking her marriage vows. He’d have killed any man who dared violate Kathleen, would have considered the man who dared touch her the lowest kind of scum. Yet he had made love to Mattie, not caring that he might be ruining her marriage…

  A married woman!

  The words rang in his head as he recalled the intimacy they had shared the night before. She had been as innocent as a bride on her wedding night, eager but uncertain, willing but undeniably shy. And she’d never had a man before. He’d stake his life on it.

  He muttered an oath as he stood up. A married woman, indeed! Dropping the reins, he turned on his heel and walked to where Mattie was sitting on the grass beneath a tree.

  “Tell me the truth,” he demanded brusquely. “Are you married or not?”

  “Of course I am,” she replied, puzzled by his angry stare. “I’ve told you so often enough.”

  “That’s right. You told me you were a married woman with six kids.”

  Mattie nodded. Why was he so angry?

  “Then would you mind telling me, Mrs. Thornton, mother of six, how you conceived those six kids and still managed to be a virgin last night?”

  Mattie’s cheeks flamed with guilty color. How had he known? Had he seen the smear of blood on her thighs? She looked up at him, mute, embarrassed at having been caught in such an outrageous lie.

  “Well?” Jess said impatiently.

  Mattie looked away, unable to meet the accusation in his eyes. Hands folded in her lap, she stared at the ground at her feet, wondering how she could explain.

  She risked a glance at his face. A muscle worked in his jaw, and his hands were balled into tight fists. Oh yes, he was angry. De
finitely angry.

  “I am a married woman,” she said, and lifting her chin, she glared up at him defiantly. He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes, those smoky gray eyes that stared down at her, demanding to hear the truth.

  “Why’d you lie to me about having six kids? And if you’re so damn well married, why hasn’t your husband ever touched you?”

  Mattie licked her lips, vowing she’d never tell another lie as long as she lived. She’d never been so embarrassed, so humiliated. And she had no one to blame but herself.

  “Well?” Jess prompted.

  “I am married,” Mattie said. “Truly I am, but I’ve never met my husband. We corresponded by mail for two years, and we were married by proxy before I left Boston.”

  “Well, I knew you didn’t have six kids,” Jess muttered. “Married by proxy. Well, I’ll be damned.”

  She could feel his gaze resting on the top of her bowed head, hear the suppressed laughter in his voice.

  “It’s a perfectly legitimate marriage, Mr. McCord,” she snapped. “Legally binding.”

  He heard the tears in her voice and realized he’d hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry, Mattie.”

  “No, you’re not! You’re laughing at me because I’m so old and ugly I couldn’t get a man who’d seen me. I had to find one through the mail.”

  “Mattie…”

  “Leave me alone! Just go away and leave me alone.”

  She was crying now, her shoulders shaking with silent tears.

  “Mattie.” He pulled her to her feet and enfolded her in his arms. “Mattie, who told you that you’re old and ugly?”

  “My mother. My aunt. Everybody.”

  “They were wrong. You’re beautiful, Mattie, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  She shook her head, refusing to believe him. “I was an old maid. All my friends were married by the time they were twenty.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five,” she wailed.

  “That’s not so old, Mattie,” Jess assured her. “And even if it was, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re a married woman now, and that’s what counts.”

  Married to someone else.

  Did he say it, or did she? Or was it merely a shared thought?

  Married to someone else.

  Jess drew back, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he thought of her lying in another man’s arms, her lips swollen from another man’s kisses.

  Mattie felt the tension growing in him and knew what had caused it. The specter of Josiah Thornton rose between them.

  “Jess, I’m so ashamed.”

  The words, barely audible, pierced his heart.

  “He doesn’t have to know.”

  “You knew.”

  “Mattie…”

  “What if he doesn’t want me? Where will I go? What will I do?”

  “Mattie, stop it. You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing.”

  “Nothing! It may be nothing to you, but it’s my whole future we’re talking about.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing,” she replied dully. “You’ve done enough already.”

  His hands tightened on her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh, and then he released her and walked away.

  Mattie stared after him. She was being unfair and she knew it. She was as guilty as he, more so perhaps, but she couldn’t call back the words.

  She was glad when they were riding again. She ignored Jess, concentrating on the countryside instead, though there wasn’t much to see, just sand and cactus and an occasional lizard sunning itself on a rock.

  She was glad when they reached Bisbee.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elias Kane stared at the girl sprawled across the bed, quietly cursing himself for letting his temper get the best of him. He hadn’t meant to kill her.

  He stared at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. If only she hadn’t screamed.

  Going into the parlor, he stared out the window. It had all started innocently enough. He had seen the girl walking down the street. She had smiled at him, and he had offered to carry her packages. She had invited him inside, offering him a glass of lemonade, and then invited him to stay for dinner. She had flirted with him during the meal, making coy remarks, teasing him, until it came time to deliver.

  And then she’d started to scream for help. And he’d put his hands around her throat to make her stop.

  Kane swore under his breath. Turning away from the window, he rummaged through the cupboards until he found a bottle of wine. He drank it straight from the bottle, wishing it was whiskey.

  Damn, what a mess!

  Well, he’d have to hightail it out of town now. Maybe he’d go on up to Santa Fe, or over to El Paso.

  He was putting on his coat when the front door opened and a tall, muscular young man entered the parlor.

  The man frowned at Kane. “Who are you?” he demanded brusquely. “Where’s Annie?”

  “Annie?”

  “My sister, Annie Brown.”

  Kane jerked a thumb toward the bedroom. “She’s resting. Why don’t you come back later?”

  Suspicion flared in the young man’s eyes. He pushed past Kane and walked swiftly into the bedroom.

  Elias Kane muttered a vile oath as he drew his knife and followed Annie Brown’s brother down the hallway. Then, for no reason he could name, he changed his mind and ran out of the house.

  A saddled horse stood at the fence, idly swishing flies. Kane was grinning as he swung into the saddle and rode out of town.

  Lady Luck had smiled on him again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Bad news awaited Matilda in Bisbee. Due to increased raiding by Cochise and his Apaches, there were no stages leaving the area until further notice. There hadn’t been any stages out of Bisbee since the first of the month.

  “What’ll we do now?” Mattie asked.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could use a bath and a change of clothes.”

  “A bath,” Mattie breathed. The mere idea almost took her breath away.

  “Come on,” Jess said, and taking up the reins of his horse, he crossed the street to the hotel.

  The clerk smiled affably as McCord approached the desk. “Ah Señor Jess, it is good to see you again.”

  “Thanks, Ramon. Think you could put me up for a night or two?”

  “Sí, no problem.” Ramon’s dark eyes slid in Mattie’s direction. “¿Quién es la guapita?”

  “A friend.”

  “Take room number three.” Ramon grinned. “You’d like a bath, no?”

  “I’d like a bath, yes! Pronto!”

  “Juana will be up with hot water and clean towels right away,” the clerk promised.

  “Clean towels?” Jess mused aloud. “That’ll be a rare treat.”

  “Is he a friend of yours?” Mattie asked as she followed Jess up a short flight of stairs.

  “Yeah. He lets me stay here whenever I’m in town.”

  “Do you come here often?”

  “I used to ride in to pick up a prisoner now and then. Ramon likes lawmen. He saved my life once.”

  “Really?” Mattie asked as McCord unlocked the door to room number three. “How?”

  “I was here to pick up a prisoner. The man had friends. Ramon warned me they were laying for me just outside of town.”

  “What happened?”

  “I left town another way.”

  Mattie stepped into the room and looked around. It was small and clean. The wallpaper was faded, but still pretty; the curtains had been mended. A rocking chair stood near the single window, and a large double bed took up most of the floor space.

  “Juana will be here with the tub in a few minutes,” Jess remarked. “I’m going down to the barbershop.” He gestured at her skirt. “I’ll take your clothes over to the Chinese laundry if you want. Get ’em cleaned and pressed.”

  “Thank you.” Mattie looked around for a pl
ace to undress, but there was no screen, no privacy of any kind.

  “I’ll wait outside. Toss ’em through the door.”

  Mattie nodded. “Did you get your prisoner safely out of town?”

  “Yeah, but his friends came after us.”

  “And?”

  “I killed them.” He watched her eyes widen, her expression so much like Kathleen’s it brought an ache to his heart. “Hurry up,” he said curtly, and stepping into the hallway, he closed the door.

  Mattie stared after Jess. He killed them. He said it so casually. I killed them. She’d forgotten that he had been a lawman before he became a bounty hunter. No doubt he had killed many times in the line of duty. Her fingers were shaking as she unfastened her shirtwaist and stepped out of her skirt.

  Opening the door a crack, she handed her clothing to McCord. “My jacket’s in my saddlebag,” she said. “Would you mind taking it to the laundry too?”

  Jess grunted softly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Keep your door locked.”

  “I will.” She listened to his footsteps fade, then there was a knock at the door.

  “Open up, please, señorita,” called a high-pitched feminine voice. “It is me, Juana. I bring your bath.”

  *

  Mattie felt clean, wonderfully clean, for the first time in weeks. She had washed herself, her hair, her underthings and her stockings, and she now sat on the edge of the bed, a sheet wrapped around her, while she tried to comb the tangles from her hair.

  Jess had been gone for over two hours and she wondered where he’d gone and what was keeping him so long. His voice, unbidden, echoed in the back of her mind: I killed them.

  He was a violent man, she thought, and yet he had been gentle with her. So gentle… She felt the tears sting her eyes as she recalled how tenderly he had made love to her, and she wished she had met him sooner, before Kathleen had come into his life, before Josiah Thornton had come into her own.