Tomorrow might bring a renewal of their differences. In fact, she was dead certain that it would. Morgan was intent on the performance of his duty. She definitely took second place to the work he’d been sent to accomplish. But for right now, for these moments in this room, with the night surrounding them, he was once more the man who wanted her, who had married her because she would not follow him otherwise.
She’d asked for this. She’d demanded that he make her his wife, and in so doing had given him the right to ask for the use of her body, for the pleasure her womanly form could provide him.
“Lily?” He spoke her name, as if to remind her of the appeal he’d made to her sense of fairness. “Will you turn me away? Or were you just using your anger as a tool against me earlier today?”
“You said you could overpower me, Morgan. Two hundred pounds against my limited strength. Remember?”
“And you think I’ll drag you to the bed and force you to lie beneath me?”
She shook her head, turning to look up into his face. It was set in remote lines, his eyes narrowed as if he would peer inside her to seek out her thoughts. “I don’t think you’d pressure me,” she said. “But if you did…” Her words faltered as he drew her against himself.
“If I did?” he asked, bending to whisk his lips across hers, tempting her with the faint pressure of a mouth that was sinfully made to entice a woman’s hunger for its touch.
“If you did, it probably wouldn’t be a battle of wills for very long,” she said. “I’m not sure I could hold out against you, Morgan.”
“Shall we find out?” he asked, bending to nestle his face against her shoulder, his mouth opening to allow him the flavor of her skin, his teeth touching the fragile, vulnerable bend between neck and shoulder.
“And tomorrow?” she asked, closing her eyes against the sight of his hair, against the sound of his husky murmurs as he spoke her name. And against the temptation he presented as she was caught up against the firm muscles of his chest and her legs were held imprisoned by the stance he’d assumed. He held her there, one hand sliding to mesh her body against the arousal he made no attempt to conceal.
For indeed he could not have hidden it had he tried. It was there, making itself known against the softness of her belly, reminding her of the moments when she’d offered herself into his keeping.
“Tomorrow will take care of itself.” His words were firm, spoken in a husky undertone that allowed no quibbling on her part. It would be as he said. Tomorrow was another day, and tonight was all they might ever have. And she was not a woman to second-guess herself.
Lily lifted her arms, twining them around his neck, leaning into his strength and offering herself on the altar of desire. Passion was what they shared, she reminded herself. Love was a word she was not likely ever to hear from Gage Morgan. He might tell her he wanted her, and she could believe him, for that fact was evident. So for tonight she would settle for desire…for passion and pleasure.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered. His breath was warm against her cheek as he lifted her; his arms were strong beneath her, and in three long strides, he’d reached the bed. She was placed carefully in the center of the mattress and then he was but a shadowed form, blotting out the moonlight as he lowered himself into her arms.
The two deputies were well-weathered, lean specimens who wore their years well. Spike and Levi were their names, and without any fuss they settled into the barn, chasing their horses out into the pasture, then carrying their bedrolls up to the loft. They made themselves useful as much as possible, though Sam’s barn was obviously the target of his limited supply of energy.
The doors were closed to observing eyes as the men did what few chores needed their touch, and when Lily walked out just after noontime to offer dinner, they greeted her with enthusiasm. It was a simple meal, corn bread and soup beans, with a generous amount of ham swimming in the broth. The men fell to with a will and Lily watched, pleased that her cooking met with their approval.
“Have you seen Morgan?” she asked, walking to the far end of the aisle and peering through a cobwebbed window.
“He was in a while ago,” Levi said, wiping his mouth on his shirtsleeve. Lily turned from the sight, wondering if she should have provided napkins. Her smile twitched as she freed the big door latch and slid it to one side.
“Ma’am, you shouldn’t be doin’ that,” Spike said, his voice low as if he feared being overheard. And then, as if to emphasize his warning, a shot rang out and Lily looked toward the front of the barn.
“That was the other side of the house,” she said quietly. “Do you suppose Morgan is there?”
“You don’t know who might be out there, and you’d make a dandy target should those fellas we’re watching for be heading this way,” Spike cautioned as he motioned to the open doorway behind her. “One thing’s for sure. That wasn’t Morgan shootin’ out front. It sounded like a shotgun, and he’s carryin’ a rifle.” He waved an imperative hand at Lily. “Get away from that door, ma’am.”
She stepped away, aware that his warning was valid. “I didn’t think,” she murmured, lifting a hand to slide the door back in place. A bullet twanged against the barn siding, the angle sufficient to send it askew, and Lily lost her balance and fell back, her breath forced from her lungs by the force of her body hitting the floor.
“Ma’am?” Levi bent over her, his hands touching her head, then dropping to rest on her shoulders. “I don’t see any blood,” he muttered. “But you never know.”
“I’m not shot,” she said, rolling to her side as she fought for breath. “It scared me, that’s all.” She sat upright, her hands against her chest as she finally managed to draw air into her aching lungs. “See if Morgan is out there,” she said sharply. “Look out the window and pay special mind to the line of trees beyond the pasture.”
But it seemed that Morgan had sought cover of his own. The two deputies flanked the barn, one at either end, and try as they might, Morgan could not be seen from the positions they assumed. Lily struggled to her feet, brushing straw from her dress and hair, and went back to the window.
“Why do you suppose they shot at me?” she asked Levi. “I wouldn’t think I presented much of a problem to them.”
“They killed a fella north of here a couple days ago,” Levi offered, though his frown was dubious. “Other than that, I can’t figure it, either. A woman ain’t much of a threat, seems to me.”
“Do you think they know you’re here?” she asked, seeking any movement to be seen in the wooded area where she was certain the second shot had originated.
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Levi admitted. “We didn’t run into anybody on our way out here, but them fellas keep a pretty close eye on things, I suspect. They’ll be wanting to clear us out of here, maybe take you prisoner to force Morgan’s hand.” He looked at her with a grin. “If you was my woman, I’d sure enough sign a deed over to keep you from getting hurt.”
She felt a moment’s warmth at the man’s words of admiration. “You may be right, you know. If they wanted to kill me, they could probably have done it. Perhaps they were firing a warning shot.”
“I sure enough feel well warned,” Levi told her. “I don’t mind a fair fight, but anybody who’d fire at a woman is pretty low in my book. You see anything up there, Spike?” he called out to where the other deputy stood peering from a narrow crack toward the house.
“There’s somebody on the other side of the porch,” Spike answered. “I think it might be Morgan. Can’t tell for certain. He’s kinda hid in the shade there, but I’ve a notion he’s gonna make a run for it and skedaddle to the barn.”
Lily turned and hurried toward Spike, and as she did, the man chuckled. “Yep, that’s just what I figured he’d do,” he said, sliding the door to one side, opening it just wide enough for a man’s body to slide past the gap. “Sure enough, here he comes,” he said. A spate of gunfire sounded outside and Lily closed her eyes, fearful of their target being the ma
n who crossed the yard.
And then Morgan was there, looming in the opening, stepping into the dimness that enclosed Lily in its depths. “Lily?” His voice spoke her name, the sound relaying his concern. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she answered, hurrying to his side. “I came out to give the men their dinner, and then we heard two shots, the second one coming from out back.”
“Did you see anyone? Where did it come from? Out in the pasture?” he asked, gripping Lily’s arms and bending over her, searching her face. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No, of course not. I think the gunman is farther out, maybe beyond the pasture, where the woods are pretty thick.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Morgan told her. “There’s probably one there and another west of the house. He tried to get a shot off at me when I came in from the road to town.” He angled a look at the two men who watched every move he made, and dropped his hands, allowing Lily freedom from his grasp.
“What were you doing there?” she asked, peeved that he should expose himself to danger without sufficient means of defense.
“Trying to force their hand. I wanted them to make a move,” he told her.
“Are you happy now?” she asked. “They’ve certainly done just that. In fact, I’d say they have us pretty well stuck here between them.”
“Well,” Morgan said, a bit too cheerfully for her frame of mind, “at least I can have a bite to eat while they decide what they’ll do next.” He stepped to where the pan of corn bread sat, and bent to the kettle of soup beans. “This smells good,” he told her, inhaling the succulent aroma.
He picked up the spoon and stirred the thick broth. “Suppose I’ve got time to have a taste?” he asked, and Lily’s anger was fueled by his nonchalant pose.
“We’re being shot at and you’re worried about eating your dinner?” Her eyes flashed a warning.
If he’d thought to calm her down, he’d gone about it the wrong way. The lady was fuming. The rush of adrenaline had carried him across the yard and into the comparative safety of the barn, and for all of those fleeting seconds, his mind had been centered on Lily—whether she was still in the house and he was making a grave error in heading for the barn. His guess had been right, and perhaps the sight of her in one piece had been the reason he’d been filled with a sense of euphoria, his relief so great it seemed his heart swelled within his chest.
In fact, it was all he could do not to carry her to the pile of hay beneath the eaves and assure himself that she was safe and secure. “It’s all right, Lily,” he murmured, rising to face her, all his instincts telling him to hold her close.
“No, it isn’t,” she said, her voice soft but filled with an anger he welcomed. Lily in the depths of fury was easier for him to cope with than a whining woman would have been. He should have known that her responses would not be those of any ordinary female. His Lily was unique.
She stood before him now with her hand on the pistol she carried. Taken from her apron pocket, the gun was carried at her side and Morgan had no doubt she would use it if the occasion warranted it.
“You could have been shot,” she said quietly. “I thought you’d be more careful than that.”
“How about you?” he asked. “How did you manage to get from the house to the barn, carting your kettle and the pan of corn bread? I’ll bet your gun was dangling in your pocket, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “I don’t like this. Not one bit,” she said in a low voice. “I didn’t think it would be so dangerous, Morgan. I thought they’d come up to the house and very nicely ask us to sign the deed over to them and then we could turn them over to the sheriff and ride away, the job finished.”
He stifled a laugh. “You really thought that?”
She lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “I’ve never done this sort of thing before,” she admitted. “When that bullet hit the barn siding, it put the fear of God in me, I swear it did.”
“I should hope so,” he told her, and then swallowed the terror that threatened to choke him as he thought of Lily sprawled across the floor with a slug in her slender body.
“Hey there, Sam Blair!” From beyond the barn door a raucous voice shouted out a greeting. “You need to come on out here and tend to business.”
“Whadda ya want?” Morgan’s voice assumed a harsh, threatening tone as he called back a reply, one that imitated Blair’s rasping voice.
“You know what we want. You were warned. Your letter said you’d better be ready to move your stuff out of the place by this morning. And you’re still here. If you value your skin, you’ll get that woman of yours and hit the road. You’ve got ten minutes to be on your way. All you gotta do is sign the dotted line, and you can leave with no trouble from us.”
“Now, why,” Morgan muttered beneath his breath, “don’t I believe you?”
And then he stepped closer to the door and called out a response. “Where’s the deed? And how do I know you’ll let us go without firing on us?”
“You don’t. But it’s either that or burn up inside that barn. If you’re not outta there in two minutes it’s gonna be hotter than Hades inside.”
Levi laughed, a low sound of enjoyment. “They don’t know we’re here,” he said.
“What are you planning?” Spike asked him. “If we go out either door, we’ll be cut down.”
“How about the loft?” Morgan asked. “There’s a window at the back and a door at the front. Maybe you can get off a shot from there.”
“I can go up,” Lily offered.
“No,” Morgan said quickly. “I want you down here in case they set a fire. I’ll need to get you out in a hurry.”
Levi and Spike were already on their way up the ladder as he spoke, and their footsteps gave indication of the direction they took, hay filtering through the cracks in the flooring and falling on the aisleway below. A double thump on the ceiling overhead told Morgan that one of the men overhead had caught sight of their quarry.
He heard the squeak of the window at the back of the loft as it opened, and then a shot resonated against the wall overhead. A loud retort answered and then was seconded by another gunshot from the front of the loft.
Morgan pushed Lily toward an empty stall. “Stay under cover,” he told her, turning his back to make his way to the barn door. She watched him for less than a second and then turned toward the sliding door at the back. Moving it gingerly, she peered through the crack and then rested the barrel of her pistol there.
From the back of the pasture a man was making his way through the herd of horses, using the animals as cover, bent low and running from place to place. She watched him, noted the upward glance he shot toward the barn, and then as he neared the corral fence, he lifted his gun and took aim.
Without hesitation, she leveled her pistol in his direction, praying silently that she would not wound a horse, yet aware that should that happen, it would be the lesser of two evils. The man overhead in the loft might be at greater risk, she decided, tightening her index finger on the trigger.
The gun seemed to explode in her hand, the sound vibrating in her ears, the smoke rising before her. And at the back of the corral, the man lay in the dirt.
She swallowed, aware of the bile that gathered in her throat, hearing the shouts of men from the direction of the house and the sound of her own name being called out in rage.
“Lily!” Morgan was behind her and she turned to him. “I told you to stay in that stall,” he said, gripping her shoulders as if he would shake the stuffings out of her.
Behind them, Spike hit the barn floor. “You better be glad she didn’t,” he said, breathless and red-faced. “She nailed that fella. One shot, Morgan. Sure pulled my chestnuts out of the fire.”
“You’d have gotten him,” Morgan said darkly.
“I did,” Spike said. “But I think her slug got there first. He shot at me, but when he got hit, it jerked him around and the bullet w
ent wild.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Lily said weakly, her legs trembling, her heart pounding at a rapid pace. She opened the barn door and stepped outside, then caught sight again of the man lying in the dirt just thirty feet or so from where she stood. The ground came up to meet her and only Morgan’s arm around her waist held her upright. The bile erupted from her mouth and she shuddered, aware of his handkerchief pressed into her hand and his strength keeping her on her feet.
“I’m all right,” she managed to whisper. And then she looked up again as the man groaned and rolled over against the corral fence. “He’s not dead, is he?”
“No, more’s the pity,” Morgan said with disgust. “Now they’ll have to buy a new rope to hang him with.”
“They’re going to hang him?” she asked.
“Probably. It’s against the law to cheat folks out of their property, Lily. He won’t get away with it.”
“Y’all in one piece in there?” The call from the front of the barn was loud, the voice familiar, and Morgan lifted Lily, easing her back inside the building. He led her to the front door and slid it open. Caine stood outside, his gun at his side, two other men flanking him. And there, next to the house, a body lay, unmoving.
“We got one of them here,” Caine said. “Where’s his partner?”
“Out back,” Morgan told him. “Lily winged him.”
From behind Caine, one of the deputies turned the dead man to his back and bent to reach inside his coat pocket. “Here’s a bunch of paperwork,” he called out. “Looks like a property deed to me.”
“Hang on to it,” Caine said. “We’ll need it when we bring his friend to the judge.”
“There are more of them working this scam,” Morgan said. “But I’ve only had instructions to deal with these two.”
“There’s more of them,” Caine agreed. “But they’ll be scared off, knowing we found them out, and handled it here. Sand Creek won’t be welcoming any more crooks, no matter how impressive their credentials look.”
“They don’t look like I thought they would,” Lily admitted. “I was looking for ragged-looking criminals. These men are dressed like bankers.”
The Marriage Agreement Page 16