by Sara Orwig
“Hey, kid,” the man said again, speculation in his voice and she turned to see him approaching her, his gaze going over her slowly, resting on her chest. She wanted to yank the vest closed over her front. He grinned and paused. “You ain’t no boy. No, sirree, you ain’t.”
“Get in the wagon.” The words were barely above a whisper, but they carried the cut of a lash. She looked around into Dan Overton’s snapping dark eyes. He stood outside the front of the store. Eb was already seated in the wagon, reins in his hand.
The man looked past her at Dan Overton while she turned away. She scrambled up and disappeared inside the wagon as Major Overton handed supplies to Eb who passed them inside to her. Then Dan mounted, and they headed down the street. She went to the back of the wagon to look out. Three men stood watching them ride away.
Within minutes after leaving White Falls, the wagon lurched and plunged forward. Rachel toppled against furniture and steadied herself.
Everything inside the wagon jiggled, and she grabbed the side of the wagon while Lissa clung tightly to Abigail. Josh moved toward the front and climbed up beside Pa. She followed him, leaning forward.
“Pa!” she shouted. While hot winds buffeted her, she clung to the lurching wagon. “What’s the rush?”
He turned his head. “Dan’s setting the pace. There must be some danger,” Eb shouted in return.
She spotted Dan Overton far ahead on the rutted, weed-filled trail. If they didn’t slow, they could turn over. She tugged on Josh’s coat and motioned to him to climb down and let her have his place. When Josh was safely in the wagon, she climbed up beside Pa. “Pa, slow down!”
“A few more yards!” Eb yelled as they raced along, the wagon swaying dangerously. She clung to the seat, until the wagon hit a rut and rocked wildly.
The team pounded after Dan Overton for another quarter of mile. Rachel reached over to take the reins, slowing the horses.
“Rachel, what are you doing? The man knows the dangers out here. He’s saved us twice.”
“He’ll wreck us this time. We can go a little slower, and he can give us an explanation.”
“We’re going to lose him. Rachel, I think we need to keep up with him.”
She looked at Pa’s pale face and heard the worry in his voice. “Pa, let me talk to him. We could have a terrible wreck and lose our wagon and what little furniture we brought.”
The horses were lathered while a cloud of dust hung in the air behind the wagon. Ready to face Dan Overton’s wrath, she drew herself up as he turned and rode back.
When he galloped toward the wagon, her pulse skittered nervously, because she knew she would have another confrontation with him. He wheeled around to ride beside her, his scowl a thundercloud.
“We’ll wreck if we keep on at a gallop!” she snapped.
“Just keep moving,” he ordered, swinging his arm toward the south and turning to ride ahead again.
For another hour, they rode without stopping. When Dan Overton motioned toward a creek, she dreaded stopping in spite of the heat and her thirst. She knew he was angry with her. He had saved them repeatedly, something she shouldn’t forget, yet he was cavalier in his demands.
She jumped down, hurrying to the creek and knelt to scoop up water, splashing it on her face, relishing its coolness. A hand closed around her arm and she looked up as Dan Overton hauled her to her feet.
“I want to talk to you,” he said in a tight voice. He jerked her beside him, hurrying away from the others, walking along the creek to turn a bend. Her heart thudded, because his jaw was set, his eyes blazing, his expression stormy. When he paused in the dappled shade of cottonwoods, he turned to look down at her.
“I know I have to thank you,” she said quickly.
“You should do what you’re told when it involves everyone’s safety!” he snapped, leaning toward her. They were only feet apart and she backed up. His dark eyes were filled with fiery anger, and he seemed to tower over her. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, not with Pa so close at hand, but Dan was intimidating. “Over and over I’ve told you to stay in the wagon out of danger.”
“You refuse to accept that I have a family to protect. I didn’t know where Pa was.” She leaned closer, determined Dan Overton wasn’t going to bully her, aware at the same time of the darkness of his eyes that set little fires of response in her. While he made her bristle, she felt an undercurrent of attraction that made the air crackle. “You’re not part of our family, and I don’t have to do what you say, Major Overton! No Yankee is going to come in and take over our lives!”
“You’re damned stubborn, Red,” he retorted, his voice low and filled with a threat. His gaze ran over her features, making her acutely conscious of his height and his arrogance.
“Why are you riding with us?” she snapped. “You know trouble like a snake knows where to hide. Who are you?”
There was a sensual flicker in his eyes as his gaze lowered to her mouth. His lashes were dark above his cheeks and suddenly beneath his steady gaze, her nerves became raw, her mouth felt swollen, dry. His thoughts had changed, and it was obvious from looking at him. She was intensely aware of him and of herself. He took a step closer, only inches from her.
“You’ve fought me every inch of the way. You need settling, Red.” Pushing off her cap, he locked his hand in her braid and pulled her head back, tilting up her face. As he gazed into her eyes, his intention was as clear as if he had announced he was going to kiss her.
“No!” she whispered, feeling threatened in a new manner, a way that she felt unable to fight.
He bent his head. His mouth brushed hers, his lips feather light moving over hers. Her heart thudded and warmth curled through her. She pushed against him, meeting a stormy gaze, and she felt the battle of wills ignite between them. She was caught in the depths of the darkness in his eyes. As she started to step away, he pulled her up against him. Her soft breasts pressed against his broad chest, her thighs were against his solid legs.
Dan stared at her, seeing her eyes go wide. What did she fear? She wasn’t afraid of renegades, Indians, or the frontier. But she looked afraid now. Was she afraid of him, or was she afraid of her own responses? Was she really Mrs. Elias Johnson? If so, all he should see was anger and that was not the emotion in her wide, green eyes. And if she was Mary Benton—? Suddenly he wanted to know. He wanted to taste her full lips, her mouth; he wanted to know if she was a married woman with a husband waiting in San Antonio, or if she was Mary Benton, unmarried daughter of Peter Benton.
Dan pulled her to him, winding his arms around her waist and bending over her, ignoring her protests or her balled fists striking his chest as he brushed her mouth again. His pulse roared at the velvet softness of her lips.
Desire curled in him, hot and demanding, his manhood throbbing. Her thick, red-brown lashes came down as his mouth moved over hers. She tried to turn her head away. Holding her tightly with one arm around her slender waist, he wrapped his other hand in her braid and held her head, rubbing his lips across hers so lightly.
His heart thudded against his ribs. Her mouth was soft and full. He placed his mouth on hers, opening hers, thrusting his tongue over hers and watching her. He wanted to know—virgin or married mother? Liar or honest woman? He wanted to know her mouth, her taste, her reaction to him. As his tongue slipped into her mouth, touching hers, her eyes flew open. It was brief, one surprised look that was unmistakable.
Watching her, he was startled, his breath catching. Her eyes closed, and he felt the subtle shift, the yielding as resistance went out of her. It was slight, but she stopped fighting him. His hand that held her braid, shifted, winding in her thick hair against her head, caressing her nape while he bent over her and kissed her deeply. She moaned, the sound barely audible, caught in her throat. He felt on fire; her kisses were as heady as brandy.
Her body softened, molding to his, her mouth was wet and sweet and hot until his blood thundered through his veins. Her kisses were like blows to his body, st
unning him. She was not a married woman. Innocence was unmistakable, as evident as the ripe responses of her woman’s body. She had to be Mary Benton, not Mrs. Elias Johnson. Her responses to his touches and kisses were not a married woman’s. The first look of surprise when he had kissed her had been innocence. Hadn’t there been any man?
He kissed her deeply, his tongue running over hers. His hand caressed her breast, feeling the hard bud straining against her cotton shirt. He thrust his hand between her legs, wishing the boy’s clothing was out of his way. Dan shifted, unbuttoning the front of her black pants, his hand sliding beneath them, feeling warm, bare skin. Startled because she wore nothing beneath the boy’s pants, he felt on fire as his hand slid to the moist warmth between her legs.
“No! Don’t touch me.”
Gasping for breath, Rachel flung away from him. Dazed, she stared at him while her heart pounded wildly, and her lips tingled from his kisses that made her feel as if she would melt. Heat filled her and an aching need that made her want to close her eyes and reach for him and feel his mouth on hers again.
It terrified her to think the power he had over her. She had succumbed to him like a flower opening to warm sunshine. He pushed his way into their lives, and she knew he was a threat. And now he had made her respond passionately to his fiery kisses when she was supposed to be a married woman traveling across country to her husband.
“I’m married!” Terror over the past few minutes shook her and anger followed in its wake. She swung her hand to slap him.
He caught her wrist in a grip that was unyielding, his dark eyes boring into her.
“You want to be loved. Every inch of you cries out for it.”
“No. I’ll not be untrue. I haven’t been, and I’ll not be now.”
They stared at each other in another silent, fiery duel and she felt ensnared by him, by his strong arms and lean body, and handsome features. By his kisses that made desire flow hotly through her, that made her want his mouth on hers now when she knew she might be facing an enemy who could destroy her family.
“No!” she cried, twisting free, hurrying away from him. Striding through the brush beside the creek, she straightened and fastened her clothing. Every moment with him became more volatile, every mile closer to San Antonio put Pa in more danger.
As Dan watched her walk away from him, his emotions churned. His gaze drifted down to her rounded, saucy bottom. She was not a married woman. She didn’t even know enough to try to fool him.
If she was innocent, then she was Mary Benton and her father was Peter Benton, wanted in Mississippi for murdering a Federal tax collector. And when Dan arrested Peter and took him in, Josh and Abigail would become orphans. Rachel was old enough to be appointed guardian for them. Who was Lissa? He didn’t know, but he was as certain that Rachel was innocent, unmarried, virginal, as he was sure he was standing on the ground. No married woman would have had the momentary startled response she did to his kisses. And then she had changed from stunned surprise to an eager, passionate woman. Thinking about her, he burned, aching from his arousal.
Dan looked over his shoulder toward the camp. Peter Benton—Eb Kearney was a good man. A man torn up by the war. Until the war, Dan had always hunted men who had committed some evil act or acts. During the war years it changed to spying, bringing back intelligence for the Union. More than a dozen times he had worn a Confederate uniform and joined their ranks to get information to pass back to his commander. He had been in a Confederate uniform when he had the brief encounter with Lyman McKissick at Sabine Cross Roads. But in all his assignments he had never had to bring in a good man to hang. And Eb Kearney would hang for killing Alvin Eubanks.
Dan’s jaw tightened as he remembered Luther Eubanks. Eubanks was grating and arrogant. Yet he was on the side of the law, and Eb Kearney was not. Stop getting to know the family. Do your job. Escort the family to San Antonio where they would be safe and then arrest Eb Kearney. For bringing Eb in there would be the regular pay plus the ten thousand dollar bonus plus a reward offered by the state. He considered going back now, but rejected the idea.
He couldn’t start to Mississippi because he would have to take all of them with him. Crossing Texas and Louisiana back to Mississippi, he didn’t want an angry, weeping family on his hands.
They would be safe enough in a city. How were two women and two children going to survive? He put his fists on his hips and glared in the direction of the wagon. He could turn his back and let Eb Kearney go.
As swiftly as the idea came, Dan rejected it. In Fort Worth he had telegraphed Pinkerton’s that he was on the trail of Peter Benton. If he gave up on the case, sooner or later Pinkerton’s would reassign the case to someone who would pick up the trail because Luther Eubanks wasn’t going to give up the search. Dan thought about his father’s lost business that the ten thousand bonus would allow him to restore. Swearing under his breath, Dan knew he had to take Eb Kearney back to Mississippi.
He remembered Rachel’s bravery and determination in standing off the saloon of rowdy men. He could picture too clearly Josh sitting in the wagon with the big pistol in his small hands. And Rachel’s kisses, as innocent and sweet as they were, her kisses also had held stunning promises of wild passion. Her fiery tresses hinted at the volatile woman that could change from a little tigress to a sensual, bone-melting woman. Her body had responded intensely to his hands moving over her.
A virgin. As his body responded to thoughts, he swore under his breath. Striding back, he knew he had no choice. When they rode in sight of San Antonio, he would arrest Eb Kearney for murder.
Rachel picked up Lissa, carrying her to the wagon as they readied to get back on the trail. The sun became hot on her shoulders as they rode. Pa climbed into the wagon to sleep and Josh and Abigail moved up by Rachel, Abigail holding Lissa on her lap where breezes could blow against her. As Rachel held the reins, she looked at the tall figure on horseback ahead of them, her thoughts spinning about the moments at the creek with him.
Rachel’s nerves tingled and felt raw and images of Dan Overton plagued her, dancing in her mind like petals swirling in a storm. In fine detail she could envision his handsome dark eyes that were a deep brown, so thickly lashed. She recalled his mouth on hers. At the thought of his kisses, she felt warmth flow through her, making her close her eyes and remember his strong arm holding her tightly against his chest.
Robert’s kisses had been so long ago and so chaste. She had been sixteen, and he had been eighteen when he had joined the Confederacy. After he left to fight for the South, she never saw him again because he had been killed in the Wilderness Campaign.
Robert’s kisses seemed a sweet, dim memory. Her cheeks felt hot as she thought about Dan Overton’s boldness, his hand moving on her breast, his tongue in her mouth.
What mortified her was that she had liked his kisses, liked his arm around her while she knew she shouldn’t. When Robert had been killed, she had accepted her spinster state. As the years went by and the war continued, she knew she would never marry, yet sometimes the thought hurt of always being a spinster. She wanted to be courted, to have a husband, a home, and a family.
She glanced at Melissa’s mass of red ringlets, thinking that when she was given Melissa, maybe it was a way of making up that she would never have her own children. Dan Overton made her feel wanton for liking his demanding kisses. He wanted her, and after today she should avoid being alone with him because she wasn’t sure she could withstand his lovemaking. She had liked it and had returned his passion, wanting more. How much more difficult would it be to deal with him now?
Mid-afternoon, as Dan rode along, he scanned the tree-lined meandering creek to the west. The country was rolling, covered with scrub oaks, providing more places for men to hide. Uneasy, Dan studied the dark shadows beneath a grove of oaks. He was sure he had heard a horse nearby and the jingle of harness earlier in the afternoon. He didn’t want to unduly alarm the others, but he didn’t think they were alone. Dan heard hoofbeats, an
d turned as Josh rode up beside him, a hat pushed to the back of his head.
“Can I ride ahead?”
“Don’t go far. Stay where I can see you easily and you can get back to us. Drop back with me before we reach any trees.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, sounding carefree, urging the horse to a canter. Boy and horse went in a big circle and then settled to a walk yards ahead of the wagon and Dan.
An hour later the terrain changed, becoming rock-strewn with deep washes. Ahead the land dipped, willows indicating a stream.
Dan whistled, and as Josh looked back at him, Dan waved his arm for Josh to return. Josh waved and started back and then he turned the horse, breaking into a canter to ride in another large circle. He dipped below sight down a draw and Dan urged his horse to a trot.
Dan heard the wild whinny of Josh’s horse and Josh’s yell. With a chill Dan galloped after Josh, pounding toward the place he had last seen the boy, topping the rise and spotting him. Dan yanked up his Colt revolver.
Chapter 7
A rattlesnake coiled below the bay’s hooves as the horse reared. Dan aimed his Colt and fired, blasting the snake’s head.
Josh’s horse whinnied, a high angry sound as it pawed the air. Suddenly the horse twisted and lunged forward, galloping away wildly.
Dan flicked his reins, leaning over the sorrel as he raced after Josh. The bay had the bit in its teeth and galloped recklessly toward a thick grove of trees. Racing alongside Josh’s horse, Dan crowded the bay. Dan kept his horse close, turning the bay back toward the wagon. As they galloped along, a tree loomed in their path, its long, leafy limbs outspread.
“Get down!” Dan yelled, reaching for Josh. The horse swerved and a branch caught Josh, knocking him off.
Dan yanked on the reins, turning and going back to swing Josh up in front of him. White faced, Josh clutched the saddle as Dan urged his mount forward.
“We’ve got to get your horse,” Dan snapped, keeping one arm around Josh while he pounded after the bay.