by Prairie Heat
Josiah. As much as she cared for McCord, the thought of living a quiet life as a storekeeper’s wife was infinitely more appealing than the idea of being the wife of a bounty hunter. As if she had any choice, she mused ruefully.
She jumped as someone knocked on the door.
“It’s me, Jess. Open up.”
Taking a firm hold on the sheet, she stood up and unlocked the door, opening it just enough to stick her hand out.
“Can’t I come in?” he asked.
“I’m not dressed.”
“Ah.” Handing her a neatly wrapped parcel, he closed the door, then stood in the hallway, one shoulder propped against the wall.
Some fifteen minutes passed before Mattie opened the door again.
For a moment, Jess could only stare at her, wondering how he’d ever thought her plain. The dark blue traveling suit complemented her tanned cheeks and luminous blue eyes. Her hair, free of its pins, fell around her shoulders in a softly curling mass of glossy black waves.
A muscle worked in his jaw as he fought the urge to take her in his arms. His gaze slid to the bed, so big and inviting, and he knew he had to get out of there before he did something foolish.
“I’m hungry,” he said abruptly. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
Mattie nodded, all too aware of the desire in his eyes, of her own response to his nearness in the small room with its big double bed.
Dinner was a decidedly uncomfortable meal. Mattie ate without tasting a thing, constantly aware of the man seated across from her. He had been to the barber, and after getting a bath and a shave, he had obviously gone shopping. In place of buckskins, he now wore a pair of black Levis and a black shirt. A red kerchief was loosely knotted at his throat, the perfect foil for his sun-bronzed skin and straight black hair. He looked handsome and dangerous and all too desirable.
“How am I going to get to Tucson?” Mattie asked, suddenly eager to get away from Jess McCord, from the turbulent emotions he aroused in her.
“I don’t know. Maybe we can send a wire to Thornton and he can come and pick you up.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going after Kane. He’s already got a hell of a head start, but I’ll find him.”
Of course, she thought, Kane. How could she have forgotten McCord’s obsession with the man? “When will you be leaving?”
“As soon as I get you taken care of.”
She nodded, unable to speak past the rising lump in her throat. He was leaving her here, alone in a strange town, so he could go after Kane. She wished she were as important to him as Elias Kane, and then reproached herself for caring. She was married to someone else. It was time to get on with her own life, time to stop thinking of what might have been.
They walked back to the hotel in silence. Mattie’s arm was warm where Jess held it, and for a few brief moments she let herself pretend that McCord was her husband, that they were returning home from an evening on the town.
All too soon, they were standing outside the door of her hotel room. “Thank you for dinner,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze, and then she frowned. “How did you pay for dinner?”
“I didn’t.”
“Another favor?”
“I left Mrs. Haley an I.O.U. She knows I’m good for it.”
“Oh. Where are you going to sleep?”
His dark gray eyes moved over her, bringing a quick flush to her cheeks. Slowly, Mattie shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice barely audible.
He didn’t push her. “I’ll bed down in the livery barn,” he said with a wry grin. “Good night, Mrs. Thornton.”
“Good night, Mr. McCord.”
She unlocked the door and stepped into the room, alone, listening to the sound of his footsteps as he walked away.
Unaccountably, she began to cry.
Chapter Twenty-One
They waited three days for an answer to Mattie’s telegram, with Mattie growing more and more apprehensive with each passing day, and Jess getting more and more eager to be on his way.
“Where can he be?” Mattie asked as they left the telegraph office.
“Who the hell knows?” McCord replied irritably.
“Are you sure there won’t be a stage soon?”
“Not unless someone figures out a way to make peace with Cochise. He’s got the whole Army jumping. People on both sides of the border are staying close to home.”
“Well, I can’t stay here forever,” Mattie said glumly. “Maybe I can hire someone to take me to Tucson.”
Jess let out a long sigh. “I’ll take you. At least you’ll be safe with me.”
“Will I?” she murmured under her breath.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She hadn’t meant for him to hear her and she blushed furiously. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“When I said you’d be safe, I was referring to the Indians. Cochise’s men won’t bother us,” Jess said curtly. He looked at her for a long time, his gaze turbulent. “And nothing will happen between us again unless you want it to, Mrs. Thornton.”
And she did want it, Mattie thought miserably. Oh why couldn’t she have met Jess McCord first?
*
They left Bisbee the following morning after an early breakfast. Jess had borrowed some money from Ramon the night before, enough to buy a used Colt, holster and ammunition, grub for the trail and whatever else they might need along the way.
Jess had insisted Mattie wear something more suitable than her blue traveling suit, and she now wore a pair of loose-fitting men’s britches and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. A cream-colored Stetson kept the sun out of her eyes, and a blue kerchief was knotted at her throat. Her dark blue traveling suit was neatly folded in her saddlebag.
She felt terribly self-conscious, wearing such an indecent outfit. The shirt was taut across her breasts, the pants clearly outlined her legs, but a shirt and Levis were much more comfortable to ride in than her heavy suit.
The weather was warm and dry. In the distance, she could see the Santa Catalina Mountains. She had always thought of Arizona as a desert, but there were numerous mountain ranges—the Dos Cabezas, the Peloncillos, the Superstitions and of course the Dragoons, where Cochise had his stronghold.
The desert was beautiful. Jess told her the names of the plants—the paloverde trees lush with gold; the ironwood trees, their gray-green leaves topped with a crown of pale violet blossoms; the yucca; the saguaro cactus.
“The saguaro grow real slow,” Jess said. “They’re only about six inches high by the time they’re nine years old, but they live practically forever. Some grow to be fifty feet.”
He told her about the barrel cactus, too, and she was surprised to hear that the Indians made candy from the pulp.
“Tastes kind of like strawberry jam,” he said. “That there’s a prickly pear, and that’s a cholla. Keep clear of those. They’ve got barbed spines, and they’re hard as hell to remove.”
Gazing into the distance, Mattie saw a bird circling in the sky.
“It’s a turkey buzzard,” McCord remarked as the bird dropped lower in the sky. “Something must have died.”
Mattie shivered with revulsion as she imagined the big bird settling on some carcass and ripping it to pieces.
“They keep the desert clean,” Jess said, noting the grimace on her face. “Nature isn’t always pretty, but she’s efficient.”
He watched as the buzzard drifted to earth. They were awkward on the ground, not particularly pretty to look at, but they had a kind of graceful beauty when gliding through the clear desert sky.
“Be careful out here,” Jess warned as they made camp that night. “The desert is full of scorpions, snakes and spiders, and most of them are venomous. A few are deadly. Another thing—the smaller the scorpion, the sharper and more deadly the sting.”
Mattie glanced around, expecting to see an army of poisonous insects marching toward her. Why hadn’t she stayed back East where such
creatures would never cross her path?
“I doubt if we’ll be bothered,” Jess assured her. “I just want you to be careful, look before you pick anything up, and shake out your boots before you put them on.”
Mattie nodded, thinking perhaps she’d just keep her boots on her feet until she reached Tucson.
Night came quickly. One minute the sky was alive with the colors of the setting sun, and the next the heavens were dark. Mattie scooted closer to the fire, wondering if she’d ever reach her destination, wondering if Josiah Thornton would ever fully appreciate the hardships she had endured to reach him.
She closed her eyes, conjuring up a mental image of the tidy brick house Josiah had described in his letters. It was a single-story house, with two small bedrooms, a large parlor, and a sunny kitchen. He had said there was a small fenced yard in front and room for a garden in the back. He had admitted the décor left a lot to be desired, but had assured her she could redecorate it any way she wished, remarking that whatever she couldn’t find in Tucson could be ordered from the East. And, if necessary, they could always add more bedrooms.
Mattie opened her eyes and stared into the dancing red-and-orange flames. More bedrooms. She swallowed as she thought what that meant. Children. Josiah wanted children, lots of children.
She tried to imagine what it would be like to be held in Josiah Thornton’s arms, to feel his hands on her skin, his lips on hers. Instead, she found herself remembering what it had been like to feel Jess McCord’s big, calloused hands moving in her hair, to feel his mouth on hers, to feel his hard, muscular body becoming a part of her own.
She looked up, startled, as he offered her a cup of coffee.
“You all right?” Jess asked, alarmed by the brightness in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks.
“Yes, I… Yes.”
McCord nodded. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Thornton, we’re safe here.”
He didn’t call her Mattie anymore. “How can you be so sure?”
“This is Apache country, and they won’t bother us. Anyway, the Indians don’t like to fight at night. They believe the ghosts of the dead wander the earth after dark.”
“That’s silly,” Mattie scoffed, hoping to buoy her courage, but she could readily imagine Indian ghosts prowling around in the shadows.
“The Chiricahua believe the Afterworld exists just below the surface of the earth and that if you mention the names of the dead, they’ll hear you and be called back.”
“What’s Apache heaven like?” Mattie asked, curious.
“The Indians believe that life is more meaningful in the next world and that the ceremonies they hold here will be held there too. People will spend their time doing whatever they were good at on earth. A man who was a good hunter will hunt, a woman who was an exceptional seamstress will continue to create beautiful things.”
“And are there white men in your heaven?”
“I doubt it.”
“And which heaven will you go to?” Mattie asked.
“I probably won’t make it to either one,” Jess replied with a wry grin, “although I’ve got a good chance of making it into Apache heaven. They believe both good and bad go to the same place.”
Mattie nodded, her expression suddenly somber. She probably wouldn’t make it to heaven either, not after what she’d done.
The night seemed to close in around them, shutting them off from the rest of the world, sealing them in a cocoon of darkness. She felt the pull of McCord’s eyes, and she lifted her gaze to his. He was watching her, his deep, gray eyes stormy with feelings he could no longer contain. His hands were balled into tight fists, and she could feel the tension rising within him as he looked at her, his unspoken desire loud in the stillness of the night.
Jess swallowed hard as he studied Mattie’s face. The firelight bathed her skin in a soft rosy glow, highlighting the curve of her cheek. Her hair was down, framing her face in a cloud of ebony. He saw the wanting in her eyes and wished he had the right to take her in his arms, to bury his face in the wealth of her hair. But he had vowed not to touch her again. Keeping that vow was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“Good night, Mrs. Thornton,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “I’m going to check on the horses.”
Mattie watched him walk away. Almost, she called him back. But then she reminded herself that Josiah was waiting for her, and that while he might forgive her for one slip, he could not be expected to forgive her for a second indiscretion.
She stared into the darkness, listening to McCord’s footsteps fade away.
*
The tension between them grew steadily stronger as the days passed by. She was careful not to look at Jess too often, not to touch him, not to let him touch her. They spoke little now, afraid of saying the wrong thing; afraid of saying things that were better left unsaid. She was married to Josiah Thornton, and nothing could change that; Jess was determined to see Elias Kane brought to justice, and he refused to let anything, or anyone, distract him.
Jess pushed the horses as hard as he dared in the heat, wanting to reach Tucson as soon as possible, knowing he had to get away from Mattie before it was too late, before he did something they would both regret.
*
It was hot, so hot. Mattie rode slumped in the saddle, wishing she’d never left Boston. Nothing had turned out as she’d planned. Nothing.
She was dozing, her thoughts fragmented, when she heard the ominous rattle, felt her horse bunch beneath her, then spring forward.
She jerked on the reins to keep from being flung over her horse’s rump, jerked again in an effort to bring the animal to a halt, but it was running flat out now, its ears back, the bit in its teeth.
In the distance, Mattie heard Jess holler her name, and then his voice was swallowed up in the wild tattoo of racing hoofbeats and the fierce pounding of her heart.
Her hair whipped about her face, stinging her cheeks, as she sawed frantically on the reins, but to no avail. And then, to her horror, she felt the horse stumble.
Mattie screamed as the little chestnut mare went to its knees and then everything blurred as she pitched over the horse’s head.
She landed hard, the impact driving the breath from her body, and then she was rolling down a short, steep embankment. She cried out in fear and pain as the spines of a cholla tore at her clothing and hair and scratched her face and arms. And then, just when she thought the worst was over, she slammed into a squat cactus.
For a moment, she was numb. From the corner of her eye, she could see her horse struggling to its feet, and then she heard Jess calling her name.
“Mattie!” he hollered again. “Mattie, are you all right?”
And then he was there beside her, his face lined with worry, his eyes dark with concern. She started to reach for him, wanting to be held, comforted, but he grabbed her hand in his and shook his head.
“Don’t move. Let’s see how badly you’re hurt.”
Hurt, Mattie thought dully. She hurt all over. She followed McCord’s gaze, her eyes widening in alarm when she saw the sharp spines that were embedded in her arms and legs.
Panic and pain engulfed her at the same time and she began to thrash about, the sight of the spines stuck in her flesh making her sick to her stomach.
“Hold still, Mattie,” Jess admonished. “You’re going to be fine. Do you hear me? Just fine.”
Tears filled her eyes as he began to extract the spines from her left arm. She wanted to be brave, as he had been brave, wanted him to be proud of her courage, but she hurt all over and she’d been scared, so scared, so certain she was going to be killed.
Patiently, Jess withdrew the barbed spines from her arms and legs, plucking them out of her clothes before he lifted her to her feet. Her shirt and pants were spotted with blood, her cheeks stained with tears.
“Can you stand on your own?”
She could, but she didn’t want to. She wanted him to hold her, to pat her on the back and assure her that ev
erything would work out for the best.
“Mattie?”
“I’m all right.”
She didn’t look all right, and he made her sit down in the shade of a huge saguaro while he removed his canteen from his saddle and soaked his kerchief in the cool water. Kneeling before her, he rolled up her shirt sleeves and gently bathed the blood from her arms, then rinsed the cloth and wiped her face and hands.
“You’ll have to take off your britches so I can rinse off your legs,” Jess said.
She didn’t look at him as she stood up and pushed her Levis down over her hips. Jess hesitated a moment, then began to draw the cloth over her legs. His touch was gentle, so gentle, and the water was so cool. And he had called her Mattie.
Tears flooded her eyes as she gazed down at the top of his head.
Jess frowned as he tossed his kerchief aside, then rearranged her pants. “What’s wrong? Didn’t I get them all out?”
“Jess,” she sobbed helplessly. “Oh Jess.”
“Mattie, don’t cry,” he murmured helplessly. “Please don’t cry.”
The sound of his voice and the tenderness in his eyes only made the tears flow faster, and then he was holding her in his arms, murmuring her name as he held her close, one hand lightly stroking her hair.
It felt so right to be in his arms, Mattie thought, how could it possibly be wrong?
Jess held Mattie for a long while, knowing he should let her go but reluctant to release her. Just one more minute, he thought, and bending his head, he kissed her cheek, then he lifted her left arm to his mouth and began to kiss each place where the sharp cactus spines had pricked her flesh.
Mattie shivered at the touch of his lips, the pain in her arm forgotten as she gazed at his bowed head. Hesitantly, she ran her fingers through his hair. She felt him stiffen at her touch, heard him sigh, and then he was looking up at her, his eyes dark, smoldering.
“Mattie.” He whispered her name as he kissed her. It was the sweetest agony he had ever known. When, he wondered bleakly, when had he started to love her? How could he bear to let her go?
With an effort, he released her. “We’d better be on our way.”