The Surrender of Lacy Morgan

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Nothing.

  Had he missed something?

  He listened for any sound.

  Nothing but the river churning and flowing nearby.

  He carefully maneuvered his way through the brush on one side of the trail then the other. Panic started to set in. Then he saw it.

  A tiny strip of blue material hanging from tree bark, the same color as Lacy’s skirt. He grabbed it as if it were a magic talisman and slipped it in his pocket.

  “Good girl,” he whispered. “Hang in there a little longer. I promise I’ll find you.”

  Working his way up the tree-covered mountain slope, he watched for breaks in the saplings and underbrush where she’d marked her trail, as if she trusted him to come after her.

  He’d failed Cap and now Dakota. He would not fail Lacy too.

  A few more yards and light penetrated the dense foliage around him. He heard voices coming from up ahead and slowed his pace.

  He eased closer and knelt to peer between two low-hanging evergreen branches.

  The hefty stranger’s back was to him. From this angle he could only see his right hand holding a pistol. Lacy stood in front of him, opening her shirt.

  “They didn’t know about what I did with the money,” she said.

  Money? From the bank robbery? What the hell was she talking about?

  The man said something.

  Lacy pulled off her shirt then cupped her breasts as if offering them to the other man.

  “Is this what you want to do, Maddocks? Squeeze and play with my breasts?”

  What the hell was she doing? Offering to be raped?

  The man hobbled forward. Finally Quinn could see his other hand. It was thrust down his pants then, more importantly, he lowered his gun hand, aiming the pistol away from Lacy.

  Smart girl!

  Quinn focused his gaze back on Lacy.

  Careful not to alert the outlaw, he eased out from behind the branches.

  Keep him distracted, Lacy. Long enough for me to get closer.

  Just inside the shadows, he laid his rifle against a tree, then palmed his Colt as he moved forward. From this angle he couldn’t get a clear shot without possibly hitting Lacy. Every step moved him closer and to the side.

  Lower lip tucked between her teeth, a sure sign she was scared, Lacy reached for the ribbon on her top. The same one he’d made her open days before.

  Anger surged through him. She wasn’t stripping for her pleasure, not like she had by the river. No, this man was forcing her out of fear, but she was willing to use her only weapon against the man—her luscious body.

  Two more steps.

  She raised her eyes to him. They were round with surprise and…was that relief?

  Her reaction was a mistake.

  “What?” Maddocks lurched forward. Grabbing Lacy by the arm, he pulled her in front of him. Then he turned, raised his pistol and fired.

  “Quinn!” Lacy screamed.

  He ducked to the ground as the bullet zinged past him to splinter into a tree. His focus completely on the other man, he rolled behind a log and leveled his gun at the bastard’s head, but didn’t squeeze the trigger. The coward held Lacy in front of him like a shield. “Let her go and I might let you live.”

  “Take another step and she dies.”

  “You don’t want to kill her. She’s the only one who knows where the money is.”

  “So, ya know about it after all? She said ya didn’t.”

  He gave a shrug as if it was of no consequence and ignored the pain that crossed Lacy’s face. He needed to make the other man think she wasn’t important to him so she became less of a target. “She’s a woman, they’re only good for one thing…”

  “And thinking ain’t it,” Maddocks finished with a laugh reminiscent of a braying donkey.

  The sound set Quinn’s teeth on edge. If Lacy’s life weren’t in jeopardy, he’d just as soon plug holes in the outlaw than listen to it again. One false move, though, and she’d be dead.

  “She tell ya where she hid the money?”

  “No, we couldn’t get her to tell us.”

  “Thought you’d fucked it out of her by now.” Maddocks pushed her so they both moved closer. “She’s a tough one, all right. Her stepdaddy couldn’t beat it out of her neither.”

  So that’s why she had the scars lacing her back. She’d taken the payroll from Devil and he’d wanted it back. Why had she taken it? What had she done with it? More importantly, why hadn’t she used it to hide in some big city instead of hiring on as a schoolmarm in Beaver Run?

  Once he had her safely out of Maddocks’ hands, he intended to get some answers.

  “Maybe you and that breed was too nice to her. I’m planning to get everything out of her.” He slid his free hand from her throat to her breast, squeezed it at the same time he licked the side of her face.

  Lacy cringed but didn’t wiggle loose. She kept her gaze focused on his face, and Quinn stared back hard, trying to will her to understand that he meant to get her free. She just had to trust him.

  Then she closed and opened her eyes. She understood.

  “I’m gonna make her tell me if I have to choke her while I pound my cock into her cunt.” Maddocks continued to maul her, sealing his fate as a dead man. Only he didn’t know it yet.

  “You gonna let me watch?” Quinn asked as he lifted three fingers in the air, his eyes still locked on Lacy’s. He looked at her boots, then quickly back to her eyes, signaling her to hit the ground on the count of three.

  She blinked like before.

  He mentally counted to three before coming up from behind the trunk, just as Lacy slapped her arm up, forcing Maddocks’ gun arm upward.

  The gun went off.

  She dove toward the muddy field and Quinn opened fire.

  Maddocks’ body jerked backward. His arms shook like a man having a fit. Blood splattered with each impact as Quinn emptied all six cylinders into him.

  Lacy remained huddled on the ground, her hands covering her head, long after the shooting and Maddocks’ life had ended.

  Concerned, Quinn stalked over to her. He knelt beside her and pulled her hands off her head. “You’re safe now, Lacy.”

  For a moment, all she did was stare up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Then suddenly, the fear gripping her broke. She shoved him hard and struggled to her feet. “Get away from me!”

  “What the hell?” He stood and reached for her.

  “No, don’t touch me!” She backed away, staring at the blood covering her shirt and camisole, dripping off her hair and hands. “Oh God.”

  “Whoa there.” He reached for her again, but held his hands up when she took another step backward, almost stepping on Maddocks’ corpse. “I won’t touch you, I promise, but come this way, darlin’. No, no, don’t look.”

  But his warning was too late.

  She stood frozen, hand covering her mouth, staring at the outlaw’s glazed, lifeless eyes. Then the shaking started. Quinn eased up behind her, careful to grip only her shoulders and pull her away.

  “Come away, darlin’.”

  He turned her and walked her to the edge of the clearing. “Take a breath, Lacy.”

  She gasped then sucked in air, nearly doubling in half. “I’ve never…seen…oh God, I was…going to let…I think I’m going…to be sick…” She turned and proceeded to empty her stomach.

  Quinn backed up a few steps, unsure of what to do. Comfort her? Hold her? Go find the dead man’s horse, which had to be hidden somewhere nearby, and give her some space to come to her senses?

  Taking off the kerchief tied loosely round his neck, he held it under some leaves still dripping from the morning’s rains to soak it through, then thrust it in front of her. “Here.”

  She mumbled a thank you but kept her face turned away. Giving her space seemed to be the best option. He turned on his heel and went in search of the horse.

  It took a few minutes, as Maddocks had hobbled the roan near a small patch of green tha
t had started to fill in the scorched earth beyond an outcropping of stone. He gathered the reins and drew him back to the trees where he’d left Lacy.

  Only she wasn’t there.

  Dammit! Where had she gone now?

  “Lacy!”

  His rifle stood where he’d left it. He grabbed it then listened. Her voice carried back to him through the trees.

  “Water. I need more water.”

  Who the hell was she talking to?

  “Lacy!” He pulled the horse back the way he’d come earlier when tracking Maddocks and Lacy.

  “Got to wash the blood away,” Lacy muttered ahead of him.

  “Lacy, wait for me, dammit!” He moved the horse as fast as he could, but Lacy seemed to be gaining ground on him.

  He cleared the trees to the trail and saw her running ahead, flapping her hands as if trying to shake something off.

  Fool woman. She was going to kill herself.

  Was that it? Did she plan to run right off the mountain?

  He had to stop her. Grabbing the horse’s pommel, he pulled himself up.

  “Giddyap,” he said, snapping the reins and digging in his heels. The horse kicked and broke into a run, mud flying from beneath his hooves as they chased after Lacy.

  Just as he was within feet of her, she veered off to the right, through the trees again toward the river. He pulled back on the reins, causing the horse to stop and rear up. Then he hurled himself off the saddle, tied the reins on a tree branch and ran after her.

  “Lacy, stop. You’re gonna get hurt!”

  He slammed to a stop on the riverbank, gasping for air, heart pounding in his chest. The panic he’d felt back on the trail eased, slowly replaced with a heat farther down his body.

  There she stood, completely naked, in the river up to her knees, like the painting he saw once of a water nymph, bending and scrubbing the blood from her clothes and body.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Washing that demon’s blood off me.”

  “It couldn’t wait ’til we got back to camp, or at least until I retrieved the horse?” Women! They made no sense.

  “No. I don’t want even a stain of him on me or my things. You gave me this shirt. The only one I want it to remind me of when I wear it is you.”

  Her words pleased him. He didn’t want to think of why, but they did.

  “And the silky underwear? I didn’t give that to you.” Had her first lover bought it for her? As a gift for her virginity? White-hot anger flare to life again at the idea.

  “I bought the camisole and I’m not about to wear any of that man’s blood close to my skin.”

  Her fear appeared to have been replaced with her own anger and determination. Good. Quinn inhaled and relaxed a bit to watch the vision before him.

  Once she’d wrung the water from the shirt and camisole, she laid them out flat on a large boulder protruding from the riverbank to dry in the afternoon sun peeking through the clouds. Then she scooped up her riding skirt and soaked it in the river.

  Bent at the waist, her back slightly to him, her long leg muscles stretched even farther and the firm globes of her ass cheeks begged to be caressed or smacked or gripped with both hands while he plowed into her heat from behind.

  She stood and squeezed the bundle of sopping material over her head.

  “Oh,” she gasped as the ice-cold water showered over her, her flesh pebbling and dark nipples drawing even more taut.

  When she bent to soak up more water, he pulled his shirt over his head, then sat to pull off his boots and socks. Finally he stripped off his britches and underwear, making sure they were on a boulder out of the river’s reach.

  As Lacy straightened, he stepped up behind her.

  “Let me,” he said, taking the soaked skirt from her and pressing his body against her cool flesh. “Part your thighs.”

  Her hand resting on his arm encircling her waist, she took one step to the side, opening for him.

  Damn, if he didn’t love her responsiveness to him.

  Gently, he brought the cloth around and washed her neck and shoulders. Then leaning back a little, he continued down her back, making sure he cleaned every inch of her golden skin of any trace of Maddocks.

  “It surprised me to see you stripping off your clothes for Maddocks,” he said, careful to keep his voice neutral.

  “I didn’t want to, but figured it was the only way to keep him from attacking me or killing me quickly.”

  He felt the tremor run through her at the memory. “It took courage to do that. And it was smart. It kept you safe until I could track you.”

  “You were the reason I could do it,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

  “Me?” He moved so his thickening cock could slip between her thighs and throb against her swollen pussy lips.

  “I thought about what you’d said to me about Devil. That I wouldn’t be doing anything to please him. I’d be doing things to please you.”

  He slipped his hand down her stomach to the soft curls covering her sex. “How would teasing another man with your body please me?”

  “I’d hoped me staying alive by any means would please you and me both.”

  He growled into her ear and pulled her close as he doused them both with water. “You’re right. It pleased me greatly.”

  Then it suddenly hit him. If he’d been a few minutes later, or she hadn’t been so quick in thinking of a way to stall Maddocks, it might be her blood he’d be cleaning off them. Or even worse, her cold body he’d be burying instead of holding close.

  Something hard and tight clenched inside his chest. He tossed the skirt onto the riverbank and latched his lips onto her uninjured shoulder, sucking hard to mark her as his.

  More. He needed to claim her completely, in the way only a man can claim his woman.

  Pressing his body along hers, he slid his hands down her arms and grasped her hands. Then he leaned in, pushing her down until her hands lay on the boulder in front of them. “Don’t move. Stay just like this.”

  “What are you doing?” she asked, but didn’t move one muscle from how he’d posed her.

  With his hands on the cheeks of her ass, he leaned down and slid his tongue along the slit of her sex, tasting her essence.

  “Ohhh,” she moaned.

  He repeated the process, lapping at her until he felt her legs begin to quiver, her juices running like warm honey. Then he rose, gripping the golden globes tight in his hands and impaling himself in one long thrust into her slick hot sheath.

  “Yes. You are so tight, so hot, so mine.” He held himself still, enjoying the union with her, how right it felt.

  Lacy whimpered, a soft mewling sound like a kitten begging for milk.

  “You like that, darlin’?”

  “Mmm, yes.” She tried to move her hips but he held her still.

  “Do you know how scared I was when I realized you’d gone with Maddocks to keep Dakota safe?” He slid out and thrust into her again.

  She moaned. “You were worried about me?”

  “Damn straight, I was.” He slid his hand up to grip her hair and turn her head so he could see her eyes. “When your trail disappeared I nearly panicked.”

  “You panicked?” She lifted her hips to push snugly onto him.

  “Until I saw the piece of your skirt and other signs you’d left to mark your trail.” He ground hard into her.

  She moaned again and licked her lips. Eyes wide, she stared over her shoulder at him.

  “Then I saw you enticing Maddocks with your breasts and body, I wanted to stop you from showing him any more of what’s given me so much pleasure.” He slid out of her and held himself still, throbbing at her entrance.

  “But you told him you’d used me to find out about the money.”

  “He had you with a gun pointed at your heart. I didn’t want him to know how crazy that made me.”

  “You didn’t mean it?”

  “Until that moment I didn’t even k
now you’d taken the money.”

  “What made you crazy about him holding me?” she asked between moans as he thrust slowly in and out.

  “That he could take you away, when I’ve just found you. I wanted to tear him limb from limb for daring to touch you.”

  Further words were lost in his desire for her. Needing to confirm she was fine. That the outlaw hadn’t harmed her.

  He captured her lips with his, working his cock into her heat, needing to mark every inch of her as his. His tongue mated and toyed with hers as he worked them both to the pinnacle.

  Then he felt her tighten around him. Clenching. Pulling. Spasming as her orgasm shook her body beneath his, her moans erupting from deep inside, only to be swallowed in his kiss.

  Then he released her, straightened and ground hard into her, his balls tightening as his seed churned then shot deep inside her pussy.

  “God, yes,” he growled as he held himself tight to her, amazed as another tremor of pleasure ripped through her with his own completion.

  Slowly he slid from her body, holding her close and helping her to stand. He retrieved the wet skirt and used it to clean her once more. Every touch a promise, every caress an oath to protect her and care for her, no matter what the next few days brought.

  * * * * *

  The smell of cooking quail filled the stone enclosure. Three birds skewered on the stakes hung over the cookfire. Dakota rinsed his bandana in water from the canteen and pressed the cool cloth against the gash in his forehead. He sucked in air with the sharp pain, at the same time trying not to worry if Quinn had found Lacy. Or what shape she was in. Or if the outlaw had gotten the drop on his brother.

  He dismissed the last thought immediately.

  If something had happened to Quinn he would’ve known it. Ever since the night they’d slashed their palms with Cap’s Bowie knife and mixed their blood to seal their bond, he’d always known when Quinn was injured. A deep ache would well up inside him as if their mixed blood called out in pain.

  Since the only ache he had was the throbbing in his head, Quinn was safe.

  So what the hell was taking him so long to get Lacy and get back?

  Okay, so he knew what was taking Quinn so long.

  The vision of how they’d taken Lacy by the river the other day flooded his senses. Heat immediately surged to his cock as he closed his eyes to relive the moment. He licked his lips, still able to taste the honey of her passion on them.