To Kiss a Texan

by Jodi Thomas

  ‘‘What about Allie?’’ Adam asked.

  ‘‘I was thinking, she’d be better off staying with you.’’ Wes set his jaw. ‘‘She gets along great with Nichole. Plus, I want her out of danger. I can’t very well take her with me.’’

  ‘‘What about your promise to her?’’

  ‘‘It can wait a few weeks. I’ll find her family, but first I have to find the treasure.’’

  Daniel frowned. ‘‘She may think her family is more important than the gold.’’

  Wes ignored his disapproval. Neither of his brothers seemed to understand that he was doing no good here. It might be weeks before a lead on her family came in. Time was running out on the treasure. He could feel it. The odds were against him already; every day lessened his chances.

  Standing, he added, ‘‘I’ve made up my mind. I’ll leave at first light.’’

  ‘‘You’d better tell Allie,’’ Adam warned. ‘‘We’ll be glad to have her stay with us, but you can’t just leave her without telling her you’re leaving.’’

  ‘‘All right.’’ Wes didn’t think it would do any good. ‘‘I’ll tell her now. Not that she’ll understand or care.’’

  As he walked out of the room he noticed Adam was pouring Daniel another cup of coffee. He knew they were planning to continue the conversation without him. Neither of them understood the drive that pushed him. Wes didn’t want to settle down. Oh, he envied his brothers from time to time, but there was something in his blood that didn’t take to sameness day after day. He needed the adventure, the unknown. The days spent recovering had been long and wearing on his nerves. He wasn’t a man who could be molded to routine. Angela Montago did him a favor by refusing his offer of marriage. He’d only been dreaming when he’d asked her. What was right for his brothers wasn’t right for him. The sooner he learned to live with that, the better off he’d be.

  Wes opened the door to his bedroom with a snap. Might as well wake Allie up and tell her, he thought. She’d probably breathe a long sigh of relief not to have him around anymore.

  As he’d expected, Allie was curled up in the hard wood chair with her cape around her. She raised her head when he entered and stared at him with those dark blue eyes. Except for that cold night he’d carried her to his bed, he hadn’t slept beside her again.

  ‘‘Evening,’’ he mumbled, wondering how many years would have to pass before he no longer saw the fear in her eyes each time he entered a room. ‘‘Sorry to wake you,’’ he said without any sorrow in his tone or any belief that she’d been asleep. ‘‘But we have to talk.’’

  She straightened and pulled the cape tightly around her.

  Wes moved to the end of the bed and sat facing her. He could have reached out and touched her, but he didn’t. ‘‘I have to leave tomorrow at dawn.’’

  Her eyes widened slightly.

  ‘‘You’ll be safe here with Nichole and Adam. They’ll stand beside you, should anyone come to see you.’’ He hesitated, wanting to be honest. ‘‘Where I’m going may mean trouble, and you’re better off here.’’

  She didn’t move. If he’d expected a reaction, he would have been disappointed.

  ‘‘With luck, I’ll be back in a few weeks. A month at the most. By then maybe we’ll have a lead worth following on any family you might have left. I’m not forgetting my promise.’’

  She didn’t move.

  Wes slapped his knee. ‘‘Well, good-bye.’’ He wasn’t going to get sentimental about leaving a woman who looked at him like he might kill her at any time.

  But then he remembered the feel of her hand in his. Funny, he thought, he’d never considered himself the kind of man who’d hold a woman’s hand. But he had to admit, he liked the way her fingers curled around his own. He liked the comfort of knowing that, for a few moments at least, she wanted him near.

  On impulse, he stretched out his hand, palm up, toward her.

  She stared at it a moment, then slowly lay her fingers on his.

  Wes saw the ring and remembered that, as far as the world was concerned, this woman was his wife. The ring she wore had meant so much to May, Daniel’s wife. And when she’d died, Daniel had slipped it on his little finger as if somehow he could keep the bond alive. He’d taken it off to save Allie. But the ring lost its meaning in the passing. Allie wasn’t Wes’s wife. No woman would ever be. She’d saved his life and, with the ring, he’d saved hers. That was all.

  ‘‘I’ll miss you, little blue eyes.’’ Wes smiled. ‘‘I’ve grown used to our long talks.’’ He placed his other hand over her fingers, warming them. ‘‘If I don’t make it back, you’ll be safe here. Adam will know what to do.’’

  Her hand felt so tiny in his. Now that the bruises were healing, he could see she was really a pretty girl. Once he found her family, she’d probably fit right in with a circle of friends.

  ‘‘Well. . . .’’ He stood without letting go of her hand. ‘‘I have to get some sleep if I’m going to leave at dawn. I’ve been out of the saddle too long.’’

  As he turned loose of her hand and moved away, she watched him with those huge blue eyes he figured he’d see in his dreams for the rest of his life. She didn’t really need to talk. Her stare told him much. She was still afraid of him, but she didn’t want him to leave.

  Wes undressed and climbed into bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. He lay there staring at the darkness, wondering if she were doing the same thing. He thought about getting up and carrying her to bed, but the night wasn’t all that cold and she might not understand.

  Not that she was any company anyway. He wasn’t even attracted to her in the way a man’s attracted to a woman. He told himself it was more like how a man would feel about helping a child . . . well, not exactly. Maybe the way he’d feel about saving a wild animal . . . well, not just like that.

  ‘‘Well, hell,’’ he mumbled and rolled to face her. ‘‘Allie, are you awake?’’

  She didn’t answer, but he sensed she was watching him from her perch on the chair.

  ‘‘I . . .’’ Wes stopped. What could he say? I want you to come over here and crawl in bed with me? He didn’t need her. He’d never needed anyone.

  ‘‘I thought . . .’’ Wes closed his eyes tightly, trying to forget that she was a few feet away. He’d sound like a blasted fool if he said something like, I’d like to hold you tonight and smell your hair. The woman didn’t like him, as far as he could tell. She’d probably knife him in his sleep for even asking such a thing. The only reason she remained in his room was because she was more afraid to be anywhere else.

  He twisted in his covers, then threw them off him. If he told anyone what he was thinking they’d laugh him out of any bar in town. But he didn’t plan on telling anyone, and it was a certainty that Allie wouldn’t.

  ‘‘Allie,’’ he started, determined to finish. ‘‘I want you to come over here and sleep next to me.’’ There, he’d said it plain and simple. ‘‘I’m not going to hurt you. I just don’t want to be alone tonight.’’

  The minute the words were out, he wished he could take them back. Never in his life had he said something so foolish, at least not stone sober. If she did understand a word he said, she was probably laughing at him over in her corner. Here he was, a war hero, a hard man, a loner, telling her he didn’t want to be alone in the dark, like some child. Her silent company was all he asked her to give. Nothing more.

  Wes jerked as he felt the cover being pulled away from his side. Without breathing, he remained still as she slipped in beside him, closing the blankets over them both with her movements.

  Her back rested lightly against his side and her head on his arm.

  It was several seconds before Wes could draw a full breath. He lay in the darkness feeling her against him. Her hair was soft and warm on his arm and shoulder. He could just make out the beating of her heart against his ribs. Her bottom pressed lightly against his leg.

  He’d never been further from thoughts of sleep in his life. He listened as
her breathing grew slow and regular. In her sleep, she snuggled closer for warmth. Her hand moved across his arm and came to rest at his elbow.

  Dear God, she felt good. He never remembered a woman feeling so good.

  Wes tried to think back over the years. In truth, he couldn’t remember ever sleeping with a woman. He’d made love to a few and then left. He’d passed out in a few beds along the way when he’d been drinking between battles. But he could never remember just sleeping next to a woman except for Allie.

  She wore no perfume, yet he closed his eyes and drank in the fresh smell of her.

  Wes slowly rolled on his side and moved his hand along her middle, just below her ribs. He pressed his face into the soft warmth of her curls and took a deep breath as he tugged her gently closer against him.

  She relaxed in his arms. Responding to his encouragement without question. He tightened his grip around her, feeling her breasts resting just above his arm, enjoying the way she molded against him all soft and willing.

  Carefully, he moved her hair away from her throat and lightly touched his lips to the spot where her pulse pounded so regular. He wasn’t kissing her, but drinking in the nearness of her. He moved his mouth across her throat once more, only this time his lips opened slightly so that he could taste her flesh as well as feel the slow, steady pounding of her heart.

  She moved in her sleep, unknowingly offering him more. But he knew if he tasted deeper, he’d awaken her and probably frighten her.

  Wes closed his eyes and tried to sleep. What had he asked for? He’d said he only wanted her near. And she came believing him. He couldn’t break his word.

  This night was a hell and a paradise of his own making. She’d trusted him so near for the first time. He couldn’t betray such a trust.

  All through the night, Wes only dozed. When he’d move, she’d adjust beside him. When she moved, rolling first one way and then the other, he’d settle her with his touch. Molding her back against him so that he could feel her resting against the length of him. Drawing her close enough so that the rise and fall of her full chest pressed against his. Slowly, he pulled her into a world that was only theirs.

  ‘‘Allie,’’ he whispered, half asleep. ‘‘Allie, I don’t want to leave you.’’

  His words brought him full awake. He stared down in the dim light and saw her looking up at him. Hate still filled her eyes.

  Wes brushed her cheek with his fingers, pushing back her hair. ‘‘Allie, don’t be afraid.’’

  He closed the few inches between their mouths and lightly kissed her lips. When she didn’t pull away, he touched them again. They were warm and full . . . and unresponsive.

  Wes leaned away and studied her. She hadn’t moved, but her eyes were still wild with fear.

  He rolled slightly and tasted her mouth more fully. When he pressed his thumb on her chin, she opened her lips. He kissed her deeper, but she didn’t respond.

  Wes raised to one elbow, trying to read her thoughts. He placed his hand on her waist and heard her sudden intake of breath, but she didn’t stir. When he pressed harder, she turned her head away, but didn’t move as she fought down a cry.

  ‘‘Allie,’’ he asked in panic. ‘‘What is it? What are you so afraid of?’’

  She didn’t answer.

  ‘‘Allie! Look at me.’’ He twisted his hand into a fist. The material of her gown drew up in his fingers, pulling the cotton tight across her breasts.

  ‘‘Look at me!’’

  Finally, she faced him. He couldn’t miss the tears in her eyes.

  His hand brushed across her waist, feeling of the cotton of her gown, trying to comfort her, erasing the wrinkles he’d caused with his grip.

  She trembled but didn’t twist away from his touch. She seemed frozen in place.

  Wes lowered his mouth to her once more. For a few moments, he waited, a fraction from her. He could feel her rapid breathing against his lips. He decreased the distance between them until his mouth brushed hers. When she didn’t move, he tasted her lips with his tongue as he inched closer. She was still, as before, while he kissed her, but he could taste the panic, feel the fear.

  ‘‘Allie,’’ he tried again, raising his hand so that he in no way held her in the bed. ‘‘Tell me! What frightens you so?’’

  She laid her hands on either side of her and gripped the sheet. She looked like someone waiting to be shot.

  Wes watched her closely. ‘‘Do you wish to leave? Do you want me to stop?’’

  She closed her eyes, spilling tears as she did. Shaking her head back and forth, she told him no with her action even though her entire body looked as if she were preparing to be sacrificed.

  He fought down his anger at the world and kept his voice low. ‘‘Then unbutton your gown.’’ He ordered a test. He had to know.

  With eyes stinging in unshed tears, she raised trembling hands and unfastened the buttons of her gown as Wes watched.

  Fighting tiny sobs, she fumbled with each button as first the lace of her collar, then the white cotton of her gown began to fall away.

  Wes watched her throat appear, then her collarbone, then the rise and fall between her breasts.

  She stopped.

  He studied her. Her eyes were closed tightly now, as if the terror to come was too great to bear. The few inches of open gown showed the swell of her breasts.

  He could do nothing but stare. The beauty of her, even in the near darkness, was overwhelming.

  ‘‘Allie,’’ he whispered finally.

  She jerked as if she’d been slapped and unbuttoned another button. It was taking all her strength to do what he wanted.

  The opening in her gown widened slightly, revealing more of her flesh. When she finished the last button at her waist, she placed her hands at her sides, once more gripping the sheet.

  ‘‘Allie?’’ Wes felt like his insides were being ripped out. ‘‘You’ll do anything I tell you, won’t you?’’ The test was over. He knew the truth.

  She nodded.

  ‘‘But why?’’ He brushed the tears from her cheek. ‘‘Are you so afraid I’m going to hurt you? I told you I’d never raise a hand against you, Allie.’’ He knew by the way she was acting that she’d been hurt before. He couldn’t help but wonder how many men had demanded she remove her clothes and how many times she’d been beaten, so that now just the fear of it made her tremble and obey.

  Carefully, as she lay beside him, he rebuttoned her gown all the way to her throat. Then he pulled her gently against him and let her cry softly on his shoulder.

  Finally, when the tears had stopped, he whispered, ‘‘Talk to me, Allie. Tell me how I can help. Tell me that you believe I mean you no harm. Let me know what frightens you so.’’

  Her fingers touched his lips, silencing his words.

  He turned so that he could see her face as she raised above him.

  ‘‘Don’t—’’ She swallowed as if the words were stuck in her throat. ‘‘Don’t leave me.’’

  He understood then. She’d do anything, let him do anything, but she didn’t want to be all alone again.

  ‘‘I won’t,’’ he promised.

  TEN

  FOLLOWING WES DOWN THE HALLWAY AND ONTO the porch, Allie noticed Adam and Nichole waiting for them at the steps. Daniel brought the horses from the stables as the two couples stood silently watching the sun come up over an awakening town.Allie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing it would be a long time before she got the smell of Forth Worth from her lungs. She’d figured her life all out in this place. If she wanted to stay away from the kind of people who’d put her in a cage, she had to stay near Wes. For some unknown reason, he thought she had some value. By thinking so, he convinced folks around him.

  What she couldn’t fathom was his strange behavior last night. He looked liked all the males she’d ever seen. He was taller than most, and thin in a lean, powerful kind of way. He seemed a normal man. But he didn’t act like the others.

  An o
ld Apache woman had told her about males and females of all tribes when Allie was no more than ten summers. She’d said that once Allie was old enough to breed, men would take her beneath their blankets. The old woman had been very plain, saying that the less Allie fought, the less she would get hurt.

  But Allie hadn’t listened. She’d fought wildly every time, except last night. When Wes had told her to join him, she’d ventured closer without the fear that usually choked her throat. And she wasn’t at all sure why.

  He’d still frightened her, but he hadn’t hurt her. She made up her mind that, the next time he lay with her, she’d try to understand what he wanted. For after last night, she knew it wasn’t her.

  Most girls in the tribes were chosen as a wife to one man. But the old woman had explained that Allie was worthless, that she would have no man to call hers. She was also not of their people, so any trader who came could take her without offending anyone.

  The old woman, who had been the chief’s mother, said those were the rules set for Allie and that Allie was to tell her when her time of womanhood had come. Until then, Allie would be fed if she worked hard. After that time arrived, she might be traded. The old woman seemed to think Allie might gain some value as she aged.

  But Allie was small for her age and hid the fact that she was a woman for as long as she could. In what Allie thought to be her fourteenth winter, the tribe she lived with was raided.

  For months, she’d already been planning for when a raid came, for raids were a part of her life. And she’d prepared, storing what she could in a cave nearby, searching for a path to run that would leave no sign, thinking about exactly what she’d do, depending on the time of day.

  With the warmth of spring came the first raid. A sudden attack at dawn. Dog soldiers from the Comanches to the north swarmed down on their enemy, the Mescalaro Apache. With the thundering of horses, Allie was up and in action before she had time to think. As the first shots were fired, she slipped into her dark robes and rolled out the back of the old woman’s tent. Then, focusing totally on her destination, she ran without looking at the chaos around her. She didn’t stop when she heard the old woman cry out or when answering fire volleyed though the little canyon.