by Sara Orwig
She glanced at Abigail talking to Will Murdock, both of them standing near a lantern hanging on a tree branch. “I hope the men you hired are reliable.”
“They worked today as hard as a man can work,” he said with some of his old forcefulness in his voice, and she turned to study him in the lantern’s light. He was staring at the horses milling inside the hastily built corral. Pa’s shoulders were thrown back and he looked less burdened with care and she felt a lift. Would this wild land help restore Pa’s strength and rekindle his hope?
She carried sticks to build a fire. Dan drove a post into the ground, swinging a sledgehammer in a steady rhythm. He was shirtless, his muscles rippling as he worked. A sheen of perspiration covered his shoulders, and the flickering lamplight accentuated the bulge and play of muscles. She watched him a moment until he stopped to wipe perspiration off his forehead.
“Want a drink?” she asked, her voice coming out breathless.
He turned to look at her. “Yes.”
She hurried to the wagon and returned with a tin cup. He took it to drink, some spilling down his chest, silver drops running over his coppery skin. She drew a deep breath, her breasts feeling taut as she looked at him. He lowered the cup and gazed into her eyes.
“Why are you working for Pa?” she asked.
“He needs help. And I’m here because I want to see you,” he said quietly. “We have some unsettled questions between us.”
“No, we don’t,” she protested, yet his words and his eyes made her pulse jump.
Giving her a sardonic glance, he touched her cheek. “Your denial is meaningless because your eyes say something different.” He handed her the cup. “Thanks for the water.”
Disturbed so easily by him, she walked away. Was it that obvious to him how she felt? She glanced back to see him swinging the hammer again, pounding the post into place. She ached for his loving, feeling as if the years ahead would be empty once Dan rode away.
It was after midnight before they sat down to eat. She had worked along with the men, her shoulders aching. After cleanup, Oscar and Will bedded down near the corral with the horses. Standing watch, Zeb and Jose were spread out away from everyone.
Pa and Dan stayed close to the wagon and the family. When she shook out a blanket to lie down, Dan moved his nearby. “Sit down and turn around. Your shoulders have to be sore.”
He massaged her back, his hands rubbing muscles firmly. She glanced around, realizing everyone else was asleep except the men keeping watch.
“That helps,” she whispered, letting her head fall forward as Dan’s hands stroked her. His touch eased away the soreness. She unfastened her braid and in minutes, he took it from her hands to finish the task, tugging slowly on the tresses and finally shaking the strands loose across her shoulders.
She looked around at him. “Your shoulders may be just as aching. Want me to massage them?”
“No. I’m all right. Lie down. I’ll put you to sleep.”
She looked into his eyes and every glance now was volatile. She responded to the slightest touch, the smallest suggestion from him. Fully dressed, she stretched out on her stomach as he scooted closer. He leaned down, catching her thick hair in his hand and lifting it away from her ear to rub her shoulders. His touches relaxed her. Once his hand slid down her back across her buttocks and she raised up. He pushed her down.
“Relax, Red,” he said, and she heard the amusement in his voice. Sure and strong, his hands kneaded her aching shoulders and back, his touch both soothing and disturbing. She wanted his hands on her, yet if he made love to her, would he destroy her independence and her peace?
His strong fingers massaged her shoulders, working down toward her waist and she felt drowsy, relaxed. His hand slid slowly over her bottom to her thighs, rubbing them and all notion of sleep fled. She twisted around again to look at him. “Keep your hands on my back.”
He gave her another mocking look as he moved his hands to the small of her back.
She didn’t know when sleep came, but the next time she stirred, crimson rays shot over the horizon.
During the next days she saw little of Dan. The men worked from dawn until midnight starting to build a barn. Josh cleared brush and at night the men’s hammering rang in the quiet as they nailed boards together. Summer lingered and hot September days were upon them. Rachel went back to wearing the boyish clothing because it was easier to work in than her dresses.
Wednesday, the sun was hot by ten in the morning. Rachel chopped small bushes with an axe while Abigail washed clothing and tended Lissa. As Rachel worked, she heard hoofbeats.
She paused and raised her head, listening carefully, feeling a prickle run across her nape. “Abby, listen.”
Abby stopped humming, straightening up and pushing suds off her arms as she tilted her head. “I hear horses.”
“Let’s get the guns. Get Lissa into the wagon.”
Rachel ran to pick up the Winchester. Pa came striding up, a new rifle in his hand. Hammers were ringing as men worked on the barn.
Josh was still chopping mesquite and Pa glanced at him. “Josh, if we have trouble, run and get Dan. Rachel, move way over there,” Pa said. He strode away leaving a wide distance between Rachel and him.
She recognized Lyman McKissick’s powerful shoulders as soon as he rode into sight. Two men rode with him. “It’s Lyman McKissick, Pa.”
McKissick was dressed in a brown chambray shirt and denim pants that hugged his muscled legs. A brown hat was pushed to the back of his head and he wore a gunbelt around his slim hips.
“Howdy, Mr. Kearney, Mrs. Johnson,” he said amiably.
When Pa lowered his rifle, Josh carried the revolver to him. She lowered the Winchester, but she wished she could order McKissick to turn around and head back home. Dread filled her as McKissick’s blue eyes swung to her and he smiled.
Lyman and his men dismounted. “I thought I’d pay a neighborly visit. I was in town yesterday and learned Horace White sold you folks this place.” He glanced at the two men with him. “This is Hogue Winters and Whit Parkman, two of my men. Boys, this is Eb Kearney, and his daughter, Mrs. Johnson.”
Pa nodded and shook hands with the men. Rachel nodded, saying hello to two hard-looking, weathered men. Hogue Winters was brown-haired, tall as Eb, his blue eyes bold. Whit Parkman was stocky and blond, thick through the shoulders and chest, looking like a pugnacious bulldog. She couldn’t recall seeing either of them in the clashes on the trail and she wondered how many men worked for McKissick.
“Looks like you’re building. Is it a house?”
“No. We’re starting with the barn and corral.”
“I’d like a word with you and Mrs. Johnson.”
Rachel felt cold as she gazed up into his eyes. She nodded, and they walked to a stack of lumber beside a barrel of nails. She and Pa sat on the stack of lumber, Lyman sitting down on a crate to face them. He placed his elbows on his knees.
“I want you both to hear me out.”
She nodded and waited, locking her hands together in her lap, knowing they had so little to bargain with against a powerful man like Lyman McKissick. She glanced at the framework for the new barn. Usually the clearing looked like a haven, a place for a fresh start with endless opportunities. Now with McKissick facing them, she felt uneasy and vulnerable.
“It looks to me as if something happened to your Elias before he ever reached San Antonio. You’re a widow in truth.”
“I don’t know that yet.”
“Looks like to me you know it if you’re starting your own place.”
“This belongs to me,” Eb said quietly.
“I still hope to find Elias,” she added.
“You said he would have settled only in this area. No one in San Antonio has ever known the man. Time will prove the truth, but out here, time can ruin a family. Legally, he’s been gone a long time now. Your father said over three years. Most likely, he’s no longer alive. So you’re a widow. You can wait a proper time,
but in the meantime you people are struggling, you can’t protect yourselves, you’re on a rugged frontier.”
Rachel felt colder listening to him, gazing into his eyes as he talked to her, dreading what he was getting ready to say.
“I want a wife and I’ve waited, because I haven’t found the right woman until now. I want to marry your daughter, Mr. Kearney,” Lyman said, shifting his attention to Eb.
“I’m married!” Rachel exclaimed. McKissick’s gaze swung around to focus on her again and she saw the denial in his eyes.
“You’re a widow. There’s no one to shock by a hasty marriage. I can give you and your family everything. I have a big place.” He turned to look at Eb again. “Here we are with adjoining land. If I marry your daughter, you can have the protection of my men. You’re out here with only a few hands to help you fend off the Comanche and renegades and anyone else who wants to take your daughters or cattle from you.”
Eb stood up. “We don’t want trouble, McKissick, but my daughter is married. She doesn’t want any man to come courting.”
As Lyman McKissick looked up at Pa, Rachel felt a flutter inside, wishing she still had a rifle in her hands. Then he smiled. “May I have a word with her? Surely that’s not asking too much when we’re sitting right out here in full view of everyone. We’ll be neighbors a long time.”
Pa looked at her and she nodded. He turned and walked away, leaving her alone with McKissick. She glanced in the direction of the barn and felt a ripple of shock, because Dan stood facing them. The distance was too great to see his expression, but she realized he was watching her with Lyman McKissick.
“He’s still with you?”
McKissick’s question brought her attention back and she faced him. “Pa hired him. You wanted to talk to me?”
“Marry me, Rachel,” he said, leaning closer. “You’ll have a life of ease, your family will have a better time of it. Your pa will have protection; all of you will have protection.”
She felt icy fear as she stared back at him. If she refused, how much trouble would he cause them? Could she prolong angering him until Pa was better prepared to battle McKissick’s men?
“This is too soon to consider Elias dead,” she said, her words coming out in a whisper.
“Let me come courting. If Elias shows up, I’ll have lost my chance, but I don’t think you’ll ever see Elias Johnson again. Out here, every hour you’re running greater risks, pushing your chances of survival. You folks are in a hell of a lot of danger. Maybe you don’t know that. You’re in Comanche territory. You’re vulnerable. By this time tomorrow night you could be the victims of a raid by a war party. Abigail and the little baby could be carried off, captives of a savage tribe.”
Before she could answer, McKissick reached down to take Rachel’s arm. “Walk down to the creek with me. Everyone watching us makes me nervous.”
“I think we should stay here.”
“Come on,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m outnumbered. Your pa has men all around.”
“And they’re good shots,” she said, her mind racing as she looked at him. She wanted to refuse and order him off their place. On the other hand, they needed all the time they could get. She nodded and rose, moving away from him.
They strolled toward the creek into shade until they were out of sight of the others. He stopped near the water’s edge where dappled sunlight played over them.
“I know you said you would never forgive me the moments on the trail, but I want you to consider all I have to offer you and your family.”
He held her upper arms, his thumbs moving back and forth lightly on her flesh.
“I’ve already told you that I intend to be faithful to Elias. I’ve only been here a few days. He could be away buying horses or cattle. I don’t want my Elias to come home and find I’m married to another man.”
McKissick stared at her, lust burning in his eyes as his gaze raked over her. “I’m not a patient man.” He tilted her chin up, gazing down at her. Suddenly he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close, squeezing her against him as he leaned down to kiss her. She struggled, hating his tongue against her lips. His hand ran over her breast. She pushed and broke free, stepping back, her breathing ragged from her struggle, his breathing heavy and gasping from desire.
“You haven’t changed at all,” she said quietly, turning to stride back to her family.
Lyman McKissick caught her arm, spinning her around. “So I want you. Why do you think I’m proposing? And you better listen to me. For the sake of your sister and your pa and your little girl, you should take my offer. And do it damned soon.”
She saw the heated desire in his eyes as his gaze lowered to her breasts.
“I’ll give you a house and dresses and servants,” he said in a raspy voice. “We’re on a frontier, so I can’t promise you great luxury, but I can promise you that you’ll have more than most women west of the Mississippi. I’ll protect and help your pa and make him a wealthy man. I’ll take care of your family.”
“That’s a generous offer,” she stated trying to control her anger for the sake of all of the others. They stared at each other, his gaze going over her in another heated look.
“Are you going to turn all that down because of a few wild moments out on the trail?”
“It’s not only that. I can’t suddenly forget a husband I’ve had for years.”
He drew a deep breath and in two strides reached out to tilt her chin up and forced her to look at him. “Don’t wait too long, Rachel. I’m not a waiting man. You and your family aren’t in a position to wait.”
He caught her around the waist, drawing her up against him. “You can’t forget those moments when I tried to take you by force. I’ll make you forget them. I’ll take you to San Antonio and put you up in the best hotel and shower you with dresses and jewelry. And as soon as the next cattle drive is over, I’ll take you to New Orleans and show you the city. You folks are in danger. Don’t forget that if you’re tempted to turn me down.”
“This is entirely too soon for me to consider someone besides Elias,” Rachel said stiffly, hurrying out of the shade and back to the others.
“You think about it,” Lyman McKissick said as he passed her, striding toward his horse. “C’mon, boys. Let’s go.”
He swung into the saddle, and she watched as he brought the horse under control. “I’ll be back,” he said to her and turned his chestnut to go. As she watched him leave, dark eyes floated in mind, kisses that set her pulse pounding and made her hot with desire. Dan Overton was not a marrying man. He owned no land and gave no promises. She hugged her arms around her waist.
Pa came to stand beside her. “He’ll give us trouble, Rachel.”
She turned to look up at her father. “Not yet. He’ll come back at least one more time.”
“I want some buildings before we have to fight him. And the next time I’m in town, I’m hiring another man.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Pa.” She looked at the new horses and the new corral. This land of golden promise held a dark threat. Soon Lyman McKissick’s patience would end and they would have to fight him.
“Rachel?”
She turned to see Abby staring at her, a frown on her brow. “Rachel, what did he want?”
“He wants me to marry him. He wants to come courting.”
“No!” Abby gasped. “You’re—”
“No, I’m not going to let him come calling and I’d never consider marriage to him. But I’m trying to get Pa some time to build his barn and house, because we’ll be safer. The time will come when I have to tell McKissick a final no. Right now I can say I’m still searching for Elias.”
“Rachel, do you think we can stand against him and his men. I don’t want Will hurt.”
“Pa’s going to hire another man the next time he goes into town. You let Pa teach you how to shoot. We may need everyone to help.”
“Will said he would teach me,” Abby said, smiling and looking at th
e men working on the new barn. “We might start tonight.” Rachel bit back a smile. It was the first time she had seen Abby happy about learning to use a pistol.
Abby returned to her wash and Rachel glanced around. Dan was nowhere in sight. She went back to work, picking up a hatchet to continue to clear the area where Pa wanted to build a house.
As she worked, a shadow fell in front of her and she looked up at Dan. Her heart began a drumroll over the stormy look on his features, and she drew a deep breath as she straightened up.
Chapter 16
Damp with sweat, a headband tied around his head, Dan stood in front of her. “What did McKissick want? Did he ask to come courting again?”
“I told him I was still searching for Elias. I’m not going to allow McKissick to call on me,” she said, her pulse drumming as she noticed the grim set to Dan’s jaw. His dark eyes flashed while he stared at her.
“You didn’t order him out of here and neither did Eb.”
“No, because then we’d have a fight on our hands.”
Dan’s eyes narrowed, and her pulse pounded. She didn’t want to discuss McKissick with him. And she wished Dan were a different man, a man who would settle. She wished he were the man asking to court her.
Dan drew a deep breath, looking around them, glancing toward the new structure for a barn, watching men hammering. He took her arm. “Let’s go where we can talk in private.”
“There’s no point in discussing this.” She didn’t want to discuss the threat of McKissick and she didn’t know whether she could control her emotions around Dan.
“Come with me or I’ll pick you up and carry you,” he said quietly.
She inhaled, frightened that she would blurt out that it was him she wanted him to propose, not Lyman McKissick. She relented, going with him. In her boyish clothing, she could almost match his long stride. A muscle worked in his jaw, and she knew the next few minutes would be difficult.
He strode toward the creek away from everyone and in minutes they were beneath leafy trees as he led her alongside the rushing stream. Shade from tall cottonwoods should have been a welcome relief, but she felt tense, too worried to notice, aware only of the angry man holding her wrist. They walked upstream, his footsteps silent while twigs snapped under her tread. She wondered how far from everyone he was going, making certain they wouldn’t be disturbed.