LEGEND

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LEGEND Page 5

by Jude Deveraux


  For a moment Kady lay where she was, blinking up at the lacy underside of the cottonwood tree branches, but the need to breathe brought her back to the urgency of the situation. Every ounce of the man was draped across her like some great, warm blanket. A blanket so heavy that she could not draw a breath.

  When pushing against his shoulders didn’t budge him, she realized that she was not going to be able to move him. Using what strength she had left, she did her best to wiggle out from under him; when she had the upper half of herself free, she paused to take a few deep, delicious breaths, and then finally managed to get the bottom half of her out from under him.

  “Now what do I do with you?” Kady asked aloud, looking down at him, sleeping with all the innocence of a child.

  “Feed you,” she said brightly, then hauled herself up and began to search his saddlebags for something to cook.

  Chapter 4

  AN HOUR LATER KADY KNEW THAT SHE HAD DONE WHATEVER she could to save the man. He seemed to breathing all right now, but he hadn’t regained consciousness. Since there was no way she could get him back onto the horse to get him to a hospital, she set about making a camp for the night.

  She had searched through the saddlebags for what could be cooked, but had found only beef jerky, a canteen of water, and a tin cup. After she’d covered the man with the single blanket, she built a fire, something she was quite good at since she’d done a great deal of outdoor grilling in her life.

  Within minutes she’d boiled a concoction of the dried beef, wild mustard, and some very nice greens she’d found growing nearby. After cooling the broth so it wouldn’t burn him, she put the man’s head onto her lap and began to try to get the liquid down his sore throat.

  He’d fought her until she’d spoken quite sharply to him and told him she was going to tie his hands again if he didn’t drink his broth and behave himself. Her stern voice seemed to reach the little boy in him because he grimaced, but he drank. Afterward, Kady let him sleep while she sat on a boulder a few feet away and tried to think about what had happened to her in the last hours.

  She was certain she was no longer in Virginia, but she didn’t know where she was now and certainly not how she’d come to be there. Once again she opened the satin envelope and looked at the photograph, for her instinct told her that that picture had something to do with what had happened to her.

  It didn’t take much deducing to see that the injured man lying on the ground before her was the boy in the picture. Even with his eyes closed and years older, he was the same. He’d opened his eyes once while Kady was trying to get him to drink, and she’d seen that they were dark blue, like sapphires.

  But, of course, it was impossible for this man to be the boy in the photo because that picture was over a hundred years old. If he were the boy in the photo, then that would mean that when she went through the rock, she’d done a bit of time manipulation. Which, of course, was impossible.

  After a while she went to the man and began to search through the pockets of his trousers. She found a half dozen coins, no paper money, and the coins were all dated in the eighteen seventies. There was a letter in the saddlebag dated July 1873, saying that Cole Jordan owed twenty dollars for cattle. The initials on the saddle were C.J.

  Impossible, she thought as she shoved the items back into the saddlebags. Better to stop thinking of this.

  The sun was going down, and it was growing cold, making Kady shiver in her corset and drawers. As she went to stir up the fire, the man began to thrash about and mumble something. Or at least he tried to say something, but his throat was too damaged to make much noise.

  As Kady leaned over him, she ran her hand over his forehead. “It’s all right,” she said softly. “I’m here, and you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you any more.”

  She couldn’t imagine how she could reassure him when the truth was she was quite frightened herself. What if those men who had been trying to hang him returned? What if they were the good guys and this man was a murderer and that was the reason they had been about to hang him? Maybe he’d done something really truly horrible to cause men to try to lynch him without a trial.

  But as she stroked the blond man’s forehead, he began to shiver, and even though she tucked the blanket tighter around him, he still trembled. So she did the only other thing she knew to do: she lay down beside him.

  Immediately, his strong arms encircled her, drawing her to him, as he threw one big leg over her much smaller ones. At first Kady started to protest, but then fatigue overtook her. She’d been awake for nearly twenty-four hours now. Even so, out of habit she started to push the man away because she didn’t like to sleep close to anyone. On the rare occasions when Gregory spent the night, they each kept to opposite sides of the bed. Kady always said things like, “If I rolled onto you in the night, I’d crush you.” But with this man there was no threat of crushing any part of him. In fact, Kady thought maybe he could even sleep comfortably under the horse.

  At that thought she giggled, and the man, his face and warm breath near hers, smiled in his sleep. He said something, but she wasn’t sure what the word was. However, it sounded like “Angel.”

  Whatever the word was, Kady rested her head against the muscle of his arm and went to sleep.

  She awoke slowly to someone kissing her softly on the lips, and not yet fully awake, she smiled and kissed him back. His hand was running up her thigh, over her waist, and onto her breast. Sleepily, Kady moved her leg so his thigh was between hers; then she moved forward to get closer to him. His kisses were so very nice, not urgent or frantic as though he had to do this quickly so he could get to work, but as though he had all the time in the world.

  His lips moved to her neck, and as she arched against him, he put his face into her breasts, which were pushed high above the corset. “Oh, yes,” she murmured, trying to get closer to him.

  It was a noise from the horse that made her open her eyes for a moment, then close them. In the next second she opened them with a jolt. This most certainly wasn’t her bedroom, and those trees with the snow-covered mountains in the background certainly weren’t part of the Virginia landscape.

  And if this wasn’t her bedroom and this wasn’t Virginia, then it was quite likely that the man whose face was buried between her breasts was not Gregory.

  Arching her back in an attempt to pull away from him, she pushed at his shoulders, but his face was glued to her breasts—which for some reason were nearly fully exposed and—

  Memory came flooding back to her. “Get your hands off of me!” she half shouted to the top of the man’s blond head.

  Instantly, he stopped kissing, but he took his time before lifting his head to look at her. What Kady saw was a man with the most innocent eyes she’d ever seen. He’s a choirboy, she thought. A huge, gorgeous choirboy, as innocent as fresh asparagus tips. But, oh, so deadly, she reminded herself as she remembered his lips on her skin.

  “You are beautiful,” he said, then winced at the pain in his throat.

  Kady was glad that his wince kept him from seeing her look of shock, for his voice was the same rich, deep timbre she’d heard last night from her Arabian prince. No two men could look less alike, but they certainly did sound alike.

  “Would you mind releasing me?” she said, pushing at his shoulders since his hands were still on her body.

  “Yes,” he gasped out. “My apologies. I thought you were . . .” He swallowed painfully. “I thought you were my every dream come true.” At that he gave her a little one-sided smile that almost made her slide back into his arms.

  But she controlled herself and rolled away from him, then stood, hands on hips and looked down at him. But his look made her glance down at herself and become very aware of her dishabille. If a man had grown up surrounded by women who wore only long granny dresses, then suddenly saw a woman wearing a bikini, he’d probably wear the same expression as this man. By late-twentieth-century standards Kady was fully dressed, except maybe for her breasts
, which were overflowing the top of the corset. But even that wouldn’t have been shocking to a modern man.

  Now, why did I think that? she wondered. Why did I think this is not a “modern” man?

  Quickly, she grabbed the petticoats and slipped them on, then the heavy satin bodice and the skirt, all while he watched her with unblinking eyes. To her chagrin, the beautiful skirt was dirty in places, and there was even a tear down one side from when she’d jumped between the boulders.

  When she was fully covered, the man was still looking up at her with wonder in his eyes, and Kady knew she’d never seen a man as appealing as this one. And in that moment she knew she had to get home. Home to safety—and to Gregory.

  Once she was dressed, she straightened her shoulders and looked down at him, trying to look as stern and businesslike as possible. “Now that I have seen that you are all right, I shall leave you,” she said, then turned on her heel and started back toward the rocks.

  All she had to do was find the rock with the petroglyphs and go back through them to her apartment. Now that she had done what she assumed she was supposed to do and saved this man’s life, she was sure she could return.

  She had walked only a few yards when the man caught her by the arm; she hadn’t heard him come up behind her.

  “I can’t let you go,” he said. “Who will take care of you?”

  “I will take care of myself. Would you please release me?”

  He put his hand to his throat, a frown on his brow as he tried to speak.

  “You should have a doctor look at your throat,” she said, starting to step around him.

  “You can’t leave,” he rasped out. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”

  “There,” she said, pointing toward the rocks. “Just a short way from here.”

  The man looked at the rocks, then back to her, a look of Are you crazy? on his face. “There are only mountains that way. No ranches or farms, nothing but rocks and rattlesnakes.” He took her arm again. “I’ll take you wherever you live.”

  “I live there,” she said emphatically. “Anyway, where I live or don’t live is none of your business. Now please go away.”

  He blocked her path. “Are you saying that you risked your life to save me, stayed with me all night to reassure yourself of my safety, and now I’m just to ride away and leave you here alone in the mountains without another thought for you? Do I have that right?”

  “You have it exactly right.” Again she tried to step around him.

  But he swept her into his arms and carried her back to the campfire, and all Kady’s struggling didn’t make him falter.

  “Release me or I’ll scream.”

  “And who do you think will hear you?”

  He set her down on a boulder, the one where she’d sat the day before and tried to sort out what had happened to her. Calm down, she told herself. She had to get away from this man and get back to the doorway in the rock where she’d entered this foreign place.

  There was part of Kady that knew she was alone with a man in the middle of who-knew-where and yesterday someone had been about to hang him. He could very well be a rapist-murderer-escaped-lunatic or whatever, and she should tread lightly.

  But some instinct said that he would never harm her and, if need be, he would protect her with his life.

  But whatever he was, whoever he was, didn’t matter. Her only concern was that she needed to get away from him and get back to the opening. She looked about for something to distract him from standing there and glaring down at her. “I’m rather hungry. What about you? If you find us something to eat, I’ll cook it.”

  Smiling at her in the way men do when they are sure they have won an argument, he said, “That’s an excellent idea. I’ll find us a couple of rabbits.”

  She smiled at him sweetly. “Very good.” Since she’d searched his saddlebags and his trouser’s pockets, she knew he had no gun. “There’s a rifle over there.”

  To Kady’s surprise, the man seemed to pale, and in a lightning motion, he grabbed the rifle from where it lay propped against a tree, and before Kady could take a breath, he’d slammed it against a rock and shattered it.

  “What are you doing?” she half screamed. “What if those men who tried to kill you come back?”

  When the rifle was in pieces on the ground, the man dropped the bit of barrel that remained in his hands as though it were something filthy. “I don’t like guns,” he whispered harshly.

  “Obviously.” As she looked up at him, he seemed to sway on his feet. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure,” he said, but when he closed his eyes for a moment, Kady stood and pushed him toward the shade of the cottonwood tree, where he reluctantly sat down on the ground.

  In concern, she knelt beside him, her face close to his as she felt his forehead for fever but found none. She smiled at him. “I don’t think hanging agrees with you, so I don’t think you should try it again.”

  He looked at her, his dark blue eyes intense. “Who are you and why are you out here at the Hanging Tree, miles from town and wearing a wedding dress?”

  “I, ah, I was . . . in my apartment and trying on the dress because I’m supposed to be married in a few weeks, and I heard something, and I, ah . . .” She looked at him.

  “You’re not very good at lying.”

  “Thankfully, I haven’t had much reason to learn how.” Looking up, she scanned the rocks at the foot of the mountain, the place where she’d come down the path. “You wouldn’t know where there are any petroglyphs, would you?”

  “And who is that? Your—” He hesitated, and there was a definite sneer on his rather perfect lips. “The man you’re planning to marry?”

  “Petroglyphs are pictures carved on rocks. These are little stick men chasing an elk. And the man I’m going to marry is named Gregory Norman,” she said; then, to her horror, she burst into tears.

  Instantly, strong arms were put around her and her head was drawn to a hard, broad chest. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t usually—”

  “Sssh, sweetheart, you cry all you want,” he said soothingly, as he stroked her hair.

  Kady did cry, but not for long; but when she stopped and tried to pull away from him, he still held her close. It didn’t take much pressure to make her remain in his arms, for it seemed that now that the immediate danger was over, she was frightened at what had happened to her.

  “You want to tell me what misfortune has befallen you? I’m a good listener.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her head against his chest. “I really don’t know what happened or where I am. And I don’t know why those men were trying to hang you. Are you a good guy or a bad guy?” As she said this, she looked up at him in question.

  “A what?” he asked, one eyebrow arched; then he smiled and pushed her head back down to his chest. “I’m a good guy. Deacon of the church. I even sing in the choir every Sunday. Look.” He drew up his leg, pulled up his trouser leg, then reached into the top of his boot and withdrew what looked like a small hunting knife. Imbedded in the handle was a little medallion.

  He handed the knife to Kady, and she looked at the medallion. “One year,” she read, then saw that there was a Christian cross in the center. “One year for what?”

  “One year at church service without missing once.” He gave her that one-sided grin again. “I even went once when I had chicken pox and infected most of the kids in Sunday school.”

  She laughed as, out of habit, she ran her hand over the blade of the knife, wondering if he had sharpened it himself. It wasn’t a perfect job, she could do better, but she’d felt worse. “So if you’re a paragon of virtue, then why were the men trying to hang you?”

  “Ever hear of greed?”

  “I do believe I have,” she said, smiling. “You have something they want?”

  “A few head of cattle and a piece of land.”

  “Ah, one of those. Millions of cattle and millions of acres?”

  He
laughed. “Not quite. Last I heard the Colorado Rockies weren’t the best grazing land.”

  Lifting her head, she looked around her. “Is that where I am? Colorado?”

  When she looked back at him, his eyes were intense as he spoke. “You want to tell me what’s going on? Why are you here? Who’s abandoned you? Did this Gregory—” He sneered the name. “Did he jilt you?”

  “Of course not!” she said, starting to get up, but he pulled her back down.

  “All right, I apologize. It’s just that a man doesn’t usually see a woman wandering about the mountains alone wearing a silk wedding dress.” He lowered his eyes a bit, and a husky quality came into his voice. “Especially not one as beautiful as you.”

  Kady blushed. “I’m not beautiful. I’m thirty pounds overweight, and I never pay any attention to how I look. Usually I have on baggy trousers and a dirty smock. I own one pair of black dress shoes and half a dozen pair of sneakers. I—”

  She stopped because the man was laughing at her. “Do you find my situation amusing?” she asked with some anger.

  “What kind of men do you know that do not think you are the most beautiful of women? I have never seen a woman as pretty as you. Your face and your . . .” He looked down at her, and when he raised his eyes, there was wonder in them. “All of you is perfection. No man could be so blind as to not see you for the Aphrodite that you are.”

  For a moment she just stared at him with her eyes wide and her mouth in a little O. “I see,” she finally managed to say. “Just so . . .” She moved away from him a bit. “I think I’d better go.”

  Instantly, he was on his feet, offering his hand down to help her stand. “You must tell me where you want to go, and I will take you.”

  As Kady looked up into those blue eyes, she felt herself sway toward him, but she forced herself to stand upright. Get hold of yourself! she commanded. What is wrong with you anyway? You’re engaged to one man, dream about another, and now, you seem to be thinking of ripping the clothes off a third.

 

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