To Kiss a Texan

by Jodi Thomas

  He pulled her close. His fingers moved beneath the material of her blouse and covered her breast once more. ‘‘Lay your head on my arm,’’ he whispered as his hands slid low over her dress and pulled her to him, allowing her to feel him fully.

  She melted against him, taking in his nearness like a long needed drink of water.

  ‘‘Pull your hair away from your throat, Allie.’’

  Following his orders, she moved her hands above her so that he had full rein to gently stroke her, drawing her closer against him with each passing. She was a creature made for loving and hadn’t learned the subtleties of holding back the pleasures she felt. She wanted his touch and had no idea how she made him feel when she responded so willingly.

  Shoving her blouse from her shoulder, he kissed the long line of her throat. The flesh was warm and inviting, tasting slightly salty on his tongue.

  She curled like a kitten against him. He pushed the material lower, revealing her back. Thin scars crossed over her flesh beneath his fingers as he stroked her gently, washing away painful memories with his caress.

  ‘‘This is what you want when you say you want me to lie beneath your robes?’’ Wes whispered against her ear. ‘‘This is what you need, don’t you, Allie? You want me to hold you like this.’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ she answered breathlessly as he tightened his grip on one breast then moved low over the front of her dress to pull her hips against him once more.

  ‘‘You need my touch, Allie, don’t you? You need to feel your blood rushing. You need to feel the fire.’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’ She saw no reason to lie. ‘‘More, please.’’

  He rolled her to face him. With one quick tug, the front of her blouse opened wide.

  Allie stretched, loving the warm, wonderful way he made her feel. She knew once she was alone, she’d never have the fire spread through her again. He was her one blaze of pure pleasure. He made her feel beautiful and treasured. His hands were rough, yet his touch gentle.

  When he pulled away suddenly, she opened her eyes in surprise. He was doing exactly what she wanted him to. There was no need to stop.

  Wes sat up and wiped his lips slowly. His gaze moved over her like a caress but the words he mumbled were a curse. He raised one knee and locked his arm around it with both hands white-knuckled in fists.

  Confused, she rose, kneeling in front of him. She wanted him to continue and had no idea what could have made him stop the pleasure. ‘‘Thank you.’’ She wouldn’t beg, even though her body ached for him to hold her longer.

  Wes winked then looked away suddenly. ‘‘You want more of the same?’’

  ‘‘Yes, please.’’ She didn’t cover herself. He could look at what he’d already caressed. ‘‘If you are not too tired, I would like more before we have to go back downstairs.’’

  Wes sat staring at the windows for a while, then he slowly tugged his shirttail free.

  She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, but he gently pushed her away. Watching as he unbuttoned his shirt, she felt the coldness of the room against her bare flesh. But she didn’t move. The fire would come again when he touched her.

  Staying perfectly still, she studied him closely, knowing that he was aware of every rise and fall of her breasts. He would pleasure her again. She would not have to fight this time.

  He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before looking straight at her. For a long moment, he stared, then reached toward her. ‘‘Give me your hand, Allie.’’

  Hesitantly, she lay her fingers in his. He turned her hand palm up and brought it to his lips. Allie fought for control as he kissed first her fingers, then lowered his lips to her palm. His open mouth drew her very soul as her hand throbbed from the pressure of his kiss.

  Allie shivered with pleasure. She felt as if she’d captured the fire of his nearness in her fist.

  He lowered her hand slowly, smiling at her reaction. ‘‘Now, the other.’’

  She quickly offered him her palm. He repeated the action, making the nerves in her fingers come alive to the slightest touch.

  Only, this time when he’d finished, he didn’t turn loose of her. Instead, he spread her fingers out over his heart. The hair of his chest tickled across her hand as he moved her fingers over his skin, feeling the deep rhythm of his heart beneath her hand. There was no softness in the feel of him, only a wall of warmth.

  ‘‘Allie. Open your eyes. See me as you touch me. See only me.’’

  She looked up as he guided her hand over his chest, teaching her to touch. She could see the fire in his eyes grow with her action.

  He kissed her then so tenderly it brought tears to her eyes. When she pulled away, he whispered as his hand fell away from hers, ‘‘Touch me, Allie. Keep your hand over my heart.’’

  Timidly, she felt of him once more, and his kiss continued. Slowly, the feel of him became less frightening. She liked the way his muscles tightened slightly as she caressed them. She liked the pounding beneath her fingers.

  He allowed her time, to feel, to explore. And again and again he rewarded her with warm kisses.

  Finally Wes leaned against the bed, stretching his long legs in front of him and holding her against his side.

  ‘‘You’re one strange lady, Allie McLain. One minute you’re kicking me out of our room, and the next you’re fighting because I won’t ‘lie beneath the robes with you.’ ’’

  ‘‘McLain,’’ she whispered. ‘‘Is that my last name?’’

  Wes kissed her forehead. ‘‘That’s it. Whether Victoria claims you or not, your last name is McLain.’’

  ‘‘And I will ride out with you tomorrow?’’

  Wes looked down into her blue eyes. All the reasons why she shouldn’t come with him came to mind, but his mouth mutinied and he heard himself saying, ‘‘We leave at dawn.’’

  An hour later, he’d just finished explaining his plans to Sheriff Hardy when Gideon rushed into the room with Colonel Attenbury and Jason on his heels.‘‘We got problems.’’ Gideon shouted, feeling the need to announce Attenbury.

  The old colonel shoved past the doorman and crossed straight to Wes. ‘‘He’s right.’’ Attenbury’s body might be aging, but his eyes stared crystal clear. ‘‘I can feel it, son, and I’ve been around long enough to trust those feelings.’’

  Wes stood, noticing Hardy pulling himself up with interest and patting the covers for his guns. ‘‘What kind of problems?’’ There was no doubt the sheriff had been expecting something to happen. Maybe he was like the old colonel, he could feel it in his blood.

  Jason moved behind Hardy so he wouldn’t miss anything being said. A boy’s excitement blended with a man’s worry in his face.

  ‘‘One of the men thought he saw a lone rider at sunset coming up the south side. He said he watched the rider approaching for ten minutes, then the guard blinked, and both horse and man disappeared.

  ‘‘That alone is simply noteworthy. The light can play tricks on a man at sunset. But Cutler reports a horse in the corral that wasn’t there last night. Now, other men I might think to be mistaken, but not Cutler. I took a look at the animal. He’d been rode hard today. Not a man claimed him as mount.’’

  Wes glanced at Hardy, but the man offered no comment. ‘‘Are you saying, Colonel Attenbury, that we have an extra man in our midst?’’

  ‘‘Not among my men, but somewhere in the compound,’’ Attenbury answered.

  ‘‘Any other news to report?’’ Wes watched the colonel carefully, sensing there was more.

  ‘‘When I made my rounds at ten, the gate just behind the kitchen and the one by the well had been unlocked. It was as if someone had walked just ahead of me. Every man on guard swore they’d seen no one.’’

  ‘‘Gideon, have your people search the house. Attenbury, take five men and comb the barn and quarters. Order double guards tonight and lanterns placed around the courtyard. I want no one being able to walk across the yard without being seen. We’ll meet by the fount
ain in thirty minutes. If there’s an extra man in this place, we’ll find him.’’

  As both men left, Wes glanced at Jason. The boy stood bravely, awaiting assignment like the others, but his eyes were wide and his face pale with fright.

  ‘‘Jason.’’ Wes leaned close. He had to make the boy feel important even though all Wes wanted to do was ensure Jason’s safety. ‘‘I need you to do something quickly. Go upstairs and warn the women. Ask them to join the sheriff here. Between the two of you, the women will be safe.’’

  Jason nodded with pride and ran to fulfill his assignment.

  Wes returned to his chair beside Hardy’s makeshift bed. ‘‘It makes no sense,’’ Wes mumbled. ‘‘Surely, one man’s not planning to attack this place.’’

  ‘‘Could be he came in to kill a single person.’’ Worry lines rippled across the old man’s forehead. ‘‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a few enemies. Maybe he plans to slit my throat, then get a fresh mount and ride out.’’

  Wes shook his head. ‘‘No, if it’s personal, looks like he’d wait until we all split up tomorrow. Why attack when the headquarters is full?’’

  The old sheriff leaned back against his pillows, holding his side as though it were an effort to breathe. ‘‘Years ago,’’ he whispered, ‘‘back in the days of the first three hundred who came with Austin, I got to where I could talk with the Karankawas who made their camp around the settlement. They saw the settlers as about as important and pesky as mosquitoes. Austin’s colony thought the Indians were unfriendly, but mostly, the Karankawas just didn’t bother trying to communicate.’’

  Though Wes was starting to wonder if this story had a point, he didn’t interrupt.

  ‘‘One night, I was in the camp and one of the braves gave a report almost identical to Attenbury’s. Seems men had heard a rider coming, but no one broke the trees around the camp. Then they noticed a horse with markings unlike any of them had ever seen.’’

  ‘‘And?’’ Wes encouraged.

  ‘‘I’ve heard many names other tribes use, but the best translation is ‘smoke warrior.’ The Karankawas have an old legend that ghosts walk among our midst, unnoticed for the most part. No one can see them most of the time, they float like vapors at sunrise. But once in a while, they get strong enough to take on form solid enough to ride a horse. When that happens, they only have one mission.’’

  Wes leaned forward.‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘To take another soul with them when they cross over to the next life.’’ Hardy’s face left no doubt he was deadly serious. ‘‘Some folks don’t want to cross over to the hereafter alone.’’

  ‘‘But who?’’ Wes shook his head. ‘‘That makes no sense.’’

  Sheriff Hardy swallowed hard and opened his mouth to argue, but before he could form a word, a scream shattered the stale night air.

  Wes was on his feet running before the sound died in his ears. ‘‘Watch the entrance!’’ he yelled over his shoulder as he took the stairs three at a time.

  Another scream came from above.

  ‘‘Allie!’’ he shouted as he rammed their bedroom door at full speed.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  WES BROKE INTO THE QUARTERS WITH ADAM ONLY a step behind. The room was exactly as it had been an hour ago when he’d left. Only, Allie was missing.‘‘I’ll check on Victoria!’’ Adam backed out the door and tried the next room. ‘‘She had one of the girls show her upstairs ten minutes ago.’’

  Empty!

  ‘‘Maybe they went back to the kitchen for some reason?’’ Adam checked the old woman’s room carefully, as though he thought she might be hiding somewhere amidst the lace and drapes.

  ‘‘Then who screamed if they went downstairs?’’ Wes inspected the windows. They were locked from the inside. No one could have gotten in or gone out and relocked them from inside.

  Daniel thundered into the room like a freight train having trouble stopping. ‘‘I came up the back stairs from the kitchen. No one passed me. Who screamed?’’

  Adam shook his head.

  Wes stepped to the landing. ‘‘Hardy!’’ he yelled down the stairs.

  ‘‘Yeah!’’ the old sheriff answered, out of breath.

  ‘‘Seen anyone come down?’’

  ‘‘Not a soul! Is Victoria all right?’’

  Wes raised his gaze to the ceiling. There was only one place they could have gone. ‘‘They may be on the widow’s walk.’’

  ‘‘And, from the screams, they’re not alone,’’ Adam whispered as if whoever had the women might hear them through the ceiling.

  Wes glanced toward the end of the hallway where a tiny staircase led up to the trapdoor.

  Jason lay curled in the shadows at the bottom of the steps. His body rocked back and forth in pain.

  The brothers reached him in seconds. ‘‘

  ‘‘What happened, son?’’ Wes asked.

  Adam examined the boy, slowly testing for broken bones.

  ‘‘Where are Allie and Victoria?’’ Wes pushed for an answer. ‘‘Are they all right?’’

  The boy jerked when Adam brushed his hair away from a badly bruised forehead.

  ‘‘Jason?’’ Adam turned his face to the light. ‘‘Jason? Can you hear me?’’

  Trying to turn away from the men he mumbled, ‘‘I can hear you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’’ He looked at Wes. ‘‘You told me to watch the women. I tried, but when we were climbing the steps, the man hit me hard in the face. He knocked me down the stairs. The trapdoor closed before I could follow.’’

  ‘‘You tried, son.’’ Wes comforted the boy. ‘‘What did this man look like?’’

  ‘‘He was real tall, and thin, with a gun in one hand and a long stick in the other. He wore a great coat that folded around him like a bat’s wings. He kept shoving the women along with his stick. I heard him whisper that he’d kill Victoria first if any of them made a sound.’’

  Holding his head, Jason rocked slightly. ‘‘I didn’t cry. Not even when he kicked me. Allie tried to protect Victoria when the man didn’t think they were moving fast enough and swung the stick wildly. She didn’t say a word when the blows hit her, but Victoria screamed.’’

  Dread shook Wes to the core. There was only one man who reminded him of a bat. Only one man who would risk anything to kill Allie.

  Wes bolted halfway up the stairs before Daniel and Adam’s grip pulled him down.

  ‘‘Let go!’’ Wes jerked at their holds. ‘‘I have to get to Allie. He’ll kill her this time for sure!’’

  ‘‘There’s no way to open the door without the man on the widow’s walk seeing you.’’ Adam stated the obvious. ‘‘It would be suicide.’’

  ‘‘I don’t care!’’ Wes fought at their arms. ‘‘Allie’s up there.’’

  ‘‘And once it’s open, whoever has Allie will have a clear shot at you.’’ Daniel’s grip was iron around his brother’s arm, but his face showed his understanding.

  ‘‘You’re no help to Allie dead!’’ Adam shouted.

  His words penetrated Wes’s mind. He had to fight not only his brothers but himself to keep from invading the walk.

  Wes moved back down the narrow stairway barely the width of his shoulders. Storming the roof would be ridiculous, he realized, but he had to do something. If the preacher named Louis had Allie, he’d been willing to risk a great deal, even his life, to kidnap her. After all, he’d been willing to kill Wes for taking her from the cage. There was no telling what the man might do if cornered.

  Gideon hurried up the stairs and darted into the first bedroom. ‘‘Miss Victoria’s missing!’’ he yelled. ‘‘ Outside, the guards said they could see shadows on the walk.’’

  ‘‘How many?’’ Wes knew the answer.

  ‘‘Three. One tall man, two short women.’’ Gideon glanced in Wes and Allie’s room. ‘‘They’re both gone? Miss Victoria must be on the walk!’’

  ‘‘They didn’t go willingly. I think I know our intruder.’’ Wes bega
n to pace, reasoning out his strategy. There had to be something he could do.

  ‘‘The walk was built into the roofline. It would be impossible to get off a clear shot at night and little better in daylight from a lower angle.’’

  Daniel and Adam were not military men. They’d spent the war doctoring and preaching. For the first time since the three brothers were together, Wes’s expertise was needed most. He had to think of something.

  Adam persuaded Jason into allowing him to examine his forehead. Daniel stood guard at the foot of the stairs as though fearing Wes might yet bolt for the trapdoor.

  Attenbury slowly climbed the stairs from the ground floor. ‘‘I heard shots,’’ the old colonel mumbled.

  ‘‘Your invisible rider’s on the roof with Victoria and Allie,’’ Wes explained. ‘‘I was so busy guarding the grounds, I left the house wide open. Somehow, he got past us all to them.’’

  ‘‘What does he want?’’ Attenbury asked. He was too old to be surprised by anything in life, but anger glistened in his watery eyes.

  Wes shook his head. ‘‘It’s what he has that worries me.’’

  ‘‘We can pick him off come morning. I’ve got men who can shoot the left eye out of a rattler at a hundred feet. I’ll put them out on the range to wait for sunup.’’

  Wes paced, glad to have someone to voice his thoughts to. ‘‘We don’t have until morning. The women will be dead by then. Our stranger came to kill. If he sees any sign of men on that side of the wall, he’ll probably shoot.’’

  Jason pushed Adam’s hand away as the doctor tried to bandage the boy’s head. ‘‘I could go out the second-floor window on the other side of the house and cross over to the walk. I’ve got good balance and I’ve used a gun once.’’

  Wes patted the boy’s shoulder. ‘‘Good idea, son, but we can’t risk it. You might fall because of your injury, and from that height it would be three stories. Or, if you made it, whoever has them might shoot you as you drop down.’’

  ‘‘I could try it,’’ Daniel volunteered.

  ‘‘The roof’s not safe,’’ Gideon added. ‘‘Tiles fall off, sometimes for no reason. It wouldn’t hold the weight of a boy, much less a man.’’