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Spirit's Song

Page 19

by Madeline Baker


  Kaylynn gasped and looked away. It was then she saw Jesse step out of the shadows.

  She blinked at the two men, unable to believe her eyes. She didn’t stop to wonder why Jesse and Ravenhawk were working together, or how they had found her. They were here, and that was all that mattered. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her whole life.

  Jesse was pulling his knife from the dead outlaw’s chest when a harsh voice cut across the stillness of the night. “Hold it right there,” Victor Mazza said. “Drop your weapons, or the girl dies.”

  Ravenhawk glanced over his shoulder to see Victor Mazza sitting beside Kaylynn, his gun aimed at her head. There was no doubt in his mind that Victor meant what he said.

  The color drained from Kaylynn’s face as she looked down into the barrel of Mazza’s pistol.

  Slowly, Ravenhawk tossed his Colt away.

  “You too,” Victor said, jerking his chin in Jesse’s direction.

  A muscle twitched in Jesse’s jaw as he dropped his gun, and then his knife.

  Victor Mazza stood up and took a step forward. He stared at Ravenhawk through narrowed eyes. “Traitor,” he hissed. “I will enjoy killing you.” He took another step forward.

  Ravenhawk spat into the dirt at Mazza’s feet. “You gonna gun me down in cold blood? Just like that?”

  “It is the fate of traitors. Yesterday you were one of us. Today you ride against us.”

  “I came because of the woman,” Ravenhawk said.

  Mazza flicked a glance at Kaylynn. “The woman? What is she to you?”

  Ravenhawk nodded, stalling for time. “She was mine until this man took her from me.”

  Victor shook his head, obviously unconvinced.

  Ravenhawk jerked his head in Jesse’s direction. “He’s a bounty hunter. I was his prisoner not long ago, but the woman and I escaped. He thinks I’m on his side, but I’m not.” He laughed softly. “You don’t really think I’d be sidin’ a lawman, do you?”

  Mazza studied Ravenhawk, doubt showing in his eyes.

  Jesse’s hands clenched into tight fists as he listened to the exchange between Ravenhawk and Mazza. Damn! He had known the Lakota couldn’t be trusted.

  He was weighing his chances of rushing Mazza when he saw Kaylynn take a step backward. Bending, keeping one eye on Mazza, she picked up a good-sized rock.

  “Dammit, Mazza,” Ravenhawk said loudly. “There’s a price on my head.” He threw his hands up in the air, his voice rising. “Why would I be ridin’ with a man who’s anxious to collect it?”

  Mazza glanced briefly at Jesse and then back at Ravenhawk.

  Jesse held his breath as Kaylynn stood up. Taking a step forward, she brought the rock down hard on the back of Victor Mazza’s head.

  Mazza dropped like a poleaxed steer.

  “Hot damn!” Ravenhawk exclaimed. He looked at Kaylynn and smiled. “Nice work, sweetheart.”

  “Hot damn indeed,” Jesse repeated. Grabbing his gun, he eared back the hammer of the Colt and leveled it at Ravenhawk. “Get those hands up.”

  “What the hell…”

  “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  “Dammit, we had a deal.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “You didn’t fall for all that stuff I was tellin’ Mazza? I was trying to save our hides.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s true. I was just stallin’, giving Kaylynn time to make her move.” He smiled at Kaylynn. “Nice going.”

  “Thank you,” Kaylynn replied, looking pleased.

  Jesse glanced over at Kaylynn. He didn’t have any faith in Ravenhawk, but he trusted Kaylynn. With a sigh, he holstered his gun. “Kaylynn, come here.”

  Kaylynn made a wide berth around Victor Mazza. “Is he…he isn’t dead?”

  “I doubt it,” Jesse replied regretfully.

  “Too bad if he ain’t,” Ravenhawk said. He took a step forward and nudged the outlaw in the ribs, then shrugged. “He’s still breathin’.”

  “Why don’t you untie Kaylynn?” Ravenhawk suggested. “I’ll look after Mazza.”

  Jesse regarded Ravenhawk for a long moment, wondering if he was making a mistake; then, retrieving his knife, he cut Kaylynn’s hands free, all the while keeping one eye on Ravenhawk, who quickly lashed Mazza’s hands behind his back.

  Driven by a need to touch her, Jesse ran his knuckles over Kaylynn’s cheek. “You all right?”

  Kaylynn managed a weak smile. “Fine.”

  Ravenhawk glanced from Kaylynn to Yellow Thunder, then grunted softly. There was no mistaking the look that passed between the bounty hunter and the girl. A blind man stuck in a coal mine could have seen it.

  With a shake of his head, he began gathering the outlaws’ weapons.

  Jesse cleared his throat. “They didn’t…”

  “No,” Kaylynn said.

  He blew out a sigh of relief, then taking her hands in his, he gently massaged her wrists, first one, then the other.

  “Kay…” He clasped one of her hands in both of his and then, unable to resist, he drew her up against him and wrapped her in his arms.

  “You’re sure?” he asked. “Sure you’re all right.”

  She snuggled against him. “I am now.”

  “Maybe you two would like to be alone.”

  Jesse glanced over his shoulder into Ravenhawk’s smirking face.

  Ravenhawk shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye on things here.” Bending, he picked up the blanket Kaylynn had been sleeping on and tossed it over Jesse’s shoulder. “You might need that,” he said with a lecherous grin.

  With a nod, Jesse swung Kaylynn into his arms and carried her away from the outlaws’ camp.

  She didn’t argue, didn’t say a word, merely slipped her arms around Jesse’s neck.

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” Jesse said.

  “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

  “You are that,” he muttered.

  She made a face at him, though she doubted he could see it in the darkness.

  “Why the hell didn’t you stay in town?”

  “I was afraid you’d kill him.”

  Jesse came to an abrupt halt. His arms, a haven only moments before, now felt like steel around her.

  “You put your life in danger for him?” he asked.

  Kaylynn shivered. His voice was colder than the night air.

  “No.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I was afraid he would kill you. Or you would kill him. I just didn’t want that to happen. Can’t you understand?”

  “I understand you must have feelings for him.”

  “I care for him,” she admitted, “but not the way I care for you.”

  “Go on.”

  “I love you.”

  “Kay!”

  “It’s wrong, I know it, but I can’t help how I feel.”

  “Shh.” He held her tighter, wishing he had the right to hold her forever.

  She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, felt him groan deep in his throat. “Make love to me, Jesse.”

  “Kay…”

  “Don’t you want to?”

  “Want to? Good Lord, woman, I’ve hardly thought of anything else.”

  “Then do it.”

  “You’ll hate me if I do.”

  “I’ll hate you if you don’t.”

  He started to argue, to tell her it would be wrong, that she would feel differently later, when she was back home where she belonged, but she covered his mouth with hers, stifling his foolish words. Her hands caressed his nape, slid down the inside of his shirt to stroke his back.

  He stood her on her feet, his body coming alive as she pressed herself against him. Her breasts were warm and soft against his chest, her lips eager as she kissed his scarred cheek.

  He held on to her tightly, afraid she would disappear if he let her go. She kissed him, and he drank from her lips as though she were life itself.

  And t
hen he was kissing her back, his clever hands stroking her hips, sliding along her rib cage, drifting over her breasts, which suddenly seemed fuller, heavier, achy.

  She sighed with pleasure as a wellspring of desire rose within her and she pressed herself against him, needing to be closer, to feel all of him.

  He broke away long enough to spread the blanket on the ground and then he was kissing her again, drawing her down onto the blanket.

  “Sweet,” he murmured. “So sweet.”

  “You are.”

  “Kay…”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I feel it too.”

  He unfastened her dress and she shivered as the cold wind brushed her skin, and then his lips were there, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, and she was on fire.

  She watched him remove his shirt and trousers, her eyes greedy for the sight of him, her hands hungry to touch him, her lips eager for the taste of him.

  She lifted her arms to embrace him, sighed with pleasure as she felt his weight.

  “Jesse. Jesse.” His name was like a sigh, a prayer. “Tell me.”

  “I love you, Kaylynn,” he said, his voice low and rough with desire. “God help me, I love you.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes slumberous with desire, her lips swollen from his kisses. “Show me.”

  He kissed her again, his mouth hot and hungry, and she surrendered to him without fear, without regret. He whispered that she was more beautiful than the wildflowers that grew along the Greasy Grass, that she was desirable, that he loved her, adored her, and for the first time in her life, she felt that she was beautiful and desirable, that she was lovable, that she had worth.

  He filled her heart and her soul and she clung to him, unafraid, trusting, letting him carry her higher, higher, until she thought she would surely die and then, like lightning ripping through the dark of night, she found fulfillment in a man’s arms for the first time.

  I have felt love, she thought, felt it surround me. I have tasted its sweetness, felt it moving within me, its breath upon my face…Jesse…

  A moment later, she was filled with a rush of warmth and Jesse buried his face against her neck, his body trembling, and she hugged him to her, filled with a sense of tenderness, a sense of completeness that she had never known before. It filled her heart with a strange kind of pain, spilled from her eyes in a wash of tears.

  Jesse drew back as he felt the warmth of her tears on his neck. “Kay? Did I hurt you?”

  “No. Oh, no.” She hurt, she thought, but not in the way he meant. Her heart was so full, so full. The memory of his touch, his taste, the sound of his voice moving through the air, dancing in her heart, his breath moving lightly over her skin, his love covering her, warm and soft.

  He caught one of her tears on his fingertip, felt a sinking feeling in his heart. She was regretting it already.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, but when he started to pull away, she held him to her.

  “Don’t go.”

  “I knew this would be a mistake.”

  “No!” She covered his mouth with her hand. “These are happy tears.”

  “Happy tears?”

  “Oh, Jesse, I never knew it could be like this.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. “I’ve never… I mean…”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “Never?”

  She shook her head, her cheeks flaming. “Alan said making love to me was like making love to a block of ice. He said there was no passion in me, that I was a…a failure as a woman.”

  Jesse laughed then, laughed with the sheer joy of being alive and having her in his arms.

  “Believe me, honey, you’ve got enough passion for a hundred women,” he murmured as he kissed the tip of her nose, and couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride that he had been the one to awaken it.

  She snuggled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, one arm draped across his chest. He held her close, felt her sigh, then relax as sleep claimed her.

  Jesse stared into the darkness, one hand idly stroking Kaylynn’s hair.

  He brushed a kiss across the top of her head, wondering what madness had possessed him. Making love to her had been a mistake. He had known it would be, yet he had been powerless to resist the sweet temptation of her touch. She had kissed him, and he had been lost. Damn. How was he going to let her go?

  He took a deep breath, and her scent filled his nostrils, warm and womanly, musky with the scent of their lovemaking. Her husband had accused her of lacking passion. The man must have been deaf, dumb and blind if he couldn’t find it. Not that he was complaining, Jesse thought with a wry grin. He was inordinately pleased that he had been the one to introduce her to the pleasure between a man and a woman. There was so much more he wanted to teach her. He wanted to spend hours making love to her, now slow and soft, now quick and urgent. He wanted to tease and caress and pleasure her, watch her eyes grow slumberous with desire, hear her voice cry his name…

  Damn, but he wanted her again.

  Knowing he had to put some distance between them before desire overcame reason, he started to ease away from her, only to feel her arm tighten around him.

  “Where are you going?” she asked sleepily.

  “We should be getting back.”

  “Do we have to?”

  She was just tired, he thought. She didn’t mean what he was thinking.

  But then he felt her lips against his neck, the heat of her tongue against his skin.

  “Kay?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Kay, do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I think so,” she murmured, and her voice was no longer sleepy, but low and husky. “Am I doing it wrong?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  He swallowed hard as her fingertips drifted down over his bare chest. “No, don’t stop.”

  “Do you like it when I touch you?”

  He nodded, afraid to frighten her away. She had never been the aggressor. It pleased him that she felt comfortable with him, that she wanted to explore, to test her newfound sexuality.

  Kaylynn took a deep breath. It was wrong for her to be here, with him, wrong to make love to him, to let him make love to her. But she had been unhappy for so long and she might never have this chance again.

  For tonight, she would forget right or wrong. Tonight, she would reach for happiness with both hands. She would worry about guilt tomorrow.

  “Touch me, Kay.”

  Emboldened by his words, she ran her hands over his arms and chest, down his belly. She played with the dark, curly hair on his chest, the wiry hair on his legs. She kissed the scar on his cheek. She pushed him until he rolled over, and then she ran her hands down the long length of his back. He had a beautiful back, well-muscled and smooth. He had small, firm buttocks, long legs.

  She kissed his neck and he rolled onto his back, drawing her down on top of him, and she thought what a wondrous feeling it was, the touch of his skin brushing against hers. She reveled in the strength of his arms around her, the gentleness of his lips when he kissed her, the aching need in his voice when he said he wanted her, needed her.

  She surrendered completely, her heart and soul soaring, flying, reaching. And he was there beside her to catch her when she fell, tumbling through rainbow clouds into ecstasy.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  She was embarrassed when she woke in his arms in the morning. Embarrassed but not ashamed. He had given her a gift beyond price, and she would never regret it.

  Jesse seemed to know what she was feeling. He turned his back while she dressed, then she stood staring across the prairie while he pulled on his pants and shirt.

  When he was dressed, he moved up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “Kay?”

  “What?”

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  Slowly, he turned her to face him. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”
r />   He hugged her tight, and then kissed her gently. Tenderly. “We’d better go see how Ravenhawk’s doing.”

  “Ravenhawk!” She had forgotten all about him. She pressed her hands to cheeks suddenly hot. How could she face him? He would know what she had done. Mazza would know.

  “Hey.” Jesse put a forefinger under her chin and tilted her face up. “It doesn’t show,” he said with a wry grin.

  “But he’ll know. They’ll both know.”

  “And they’ll think I’m the luckiest man on Earth.”

  “But what will they think of me?”

  “Do you care?”

  She looked into his eyes and knew she didn’t care what anyone else thought. She had followed her heart and she would never be sorry. She had shared a beautiful night with a beautiful man, and she wouldn’t let anyone spoil it, or turn it into something shameful or sordid.

  “Kay?”

  “No.” She smiled at him. “I don’t care.”

  “Good.” He kissed her again. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

  Ravenhawk looked up at the sound of footsteps. It took but one look at Kaylynn’s face to know how she had spent the night. There was a glow about her, a look in her eyes that said she had been well and truly pleasured. He glanced at Yellow Thunder and knew a swift rush of jealousy.

  Jesse slipped his arm around Kaylynn’s waist as he met Ravenhawk’s gaze. It was a gesture that was not only possessive but a blatant warning as well.

  “Everything all right here?” Jesse asked.

  Ravenhawk shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “No reason.” Jesse nodded at Victor Mazza, who was sitting a few feet away, his arms bound behind his back. “He give you any trouble?”

  “No.”

  “They have anything to eat?”

  Ravenhawk shook his head. “Not much. Couple cans of beans and some hardtack.”

  “Any coffee?”

  “There’s a little in the pot.”

  Jesse walked over to the fire and poured a cup of coffee. It was as black and bitter as an old whore’s heart, but it was hot. He drank half, then offered the cup to Kaylynn, who shook her head.

  She glanced around, then looked at Ravenhawk, wondering what he had done with the bodies of the outlaws.

  “Victor wrapped ’em up good and tight so we could haul ’em back to town,” Ravenhawk remarked, answering her unspoken question. “Gave him something to do while we were waiting for you two.”

 

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