by Bobbi Smith
“It sure can’t hurt to be prepared,” Wes agreed.
They talked a little longer, and then Charity could tell that Amanda was ready to go to bed for the night.
“We were expecting just Dave to show up, so we really only got the one extra bed there.” She pointed toward a small, uncomfortable-looking cot in the far corner of the main room. “Will that be good enough for you, Amanda?”
“That’ll be fine, but what about Jack?”
“I’ll just bed down out in the stable,” he said. He’d noticed that the place was small, and he’d figured he’d be camping out that night.
“Let me get you some blankets,” Charity offered, and she disappeared into her own bedroom. She came back in a few minutes with some bedclothes for Jack. “You all get some sleep now, and we’ll get you up before dawn so you can have some breakfast before you have to leave. It’s a long trip into Eagle Rock. You’re gonna want a big breakfast.”
“Thanks, Charity.”
Jack left then, and when Charity and Wes went into their room and bedded down, Amanda quickly changed into her nightgown and slipped into bed. As she lay in the strange bed, thinking of all that had happened that day, her thoughts lingered on Jack’s words—I’m a friend of Dan’s and Amanda’s.
It surprised her to learn that Jack thought of himself as her friend. Funny, but she’d certainly never thought of him that way. He’d always been her adversary, preventing her from doing what she’d wanted to do, keeping her out of trouble, to his way of thinking. He’d saved her from being arrested, he’d saved her from being beaten, and now he was riding shotgun for her.
Jack didn’t have to work for the stage line. Amanda knew how worried he was about the Sheldon gang and how much he’d wanted to track them down. She wondered what her father had said to him to get him to stay on. She wondered, too, why he had stayed if what he’d said all along was really true—that he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
Sleep came easily to Amanda, for she was exhausted. Hers was a dreamless rest. She awoke early and rose at the sound of someone moving around outside the cabin.
Amanda dressed quickly and crept to the window to look out. She knew it wasn’t Charity or Wes outside—their bedroom door was still closed—and she worried it might be trouble. To her surprise, she found it was Jack.
Jack was standing near the water pump, clad only in his pants and boots. He was in the middle of washing up, and she watched him in fascination. The only light was from the lamp he’d carried with him, and his broad chest and muscular shoulders were gilded by the golden glow. Her gaze went over him, lingering on the smooth planes of his hard-muscled torso. He looked much like a statue of Adonis she’d seen once in a museum in Philadelphia. He looked . . . beautiful.
What was she thinking? Jack? Beautiful? Amanda shook her head, but she did not look away. It was almost as if she was hypnotized by the sight of him—so powerful, so lean, so strong.
And then he turned slightly, and she saw for the first time the scar.
Amanda gasped. The lasting reminder of the near-deadly knife wound gleamed white against Jack’s tanned skin, marring that solid expanse. She stared in horror at the scar, knowing just by its location that the wound should have killed Jack. It was a miracle that he was still alive.
And a woman had done that to him.
She thought back over the conversations they’d had and remembered the night on board the ship when they’d been at dinner. He’d told her then how he didn’t trust women, how he’d learned the hard way that women weren’t always what they seemed. She understood better now what he’d meant, and she also understood why he felt that way. He’d been betrayed . . . and it had almost proven fatal.
Amanda wondered what kind of relationship he’d had with El Diablo before the night she attacked him. She wondered if they’d known each other or if the outlaw had just come after him because he’d known too much. Being a woman, it would have been easy to insinuate herself into his room. But to catch Jack so completely unawares . . . That would have taken careful planning on her part.
Anger filled Amanda at the thought of the vicious murderer and the way she had deliberately plotted to kill Jack. She was glad that El Diablo was dead. She might have been tempted to shoot her herself, if she had still been alive. Amanda remembered Jack telling her that she didn’t have what it took to kill somebody, but she knew it wouldn’t have bothered her at all to be the one who put El Diablo six feet under.
She moved quietly away from the window for fear that Jack might catch her watching him. As she sat back down on her bed to await the sunrise and the start of the new day, Amanda made a promise to herself to start practicing with her handgun as soon as she got the chance. She not only wanted to be able to protect herself—she wanted to be able to protect those she cared about.
Amanda didn’t delve too deeply into that thought and its connection to Jack. She just waited for the others to rise so they could have breakfast and get under way. They had a long day of travel ahead of them.
Chapter Twelve
An hour later, Amanda and Jack had eaten Charity’s delicious breakfast and were loaded up and on their way to Eagle Rock. The good news was that it was cloudy, and the bad news was that it was cloudy. Not that it rained much in West Texas, but a good gully-washer might cause them some problems today, for they had to cross the Brazos on the way.
Normally, the Brazos was low and slow-flowing, its water muddy and red. If there was a downpour anywhere around, though, the river could become a dangerous, raging torrent. That would definitely slow them down, and they didn’t need that. They just wanted to get to Eagle Rock and make their delivery as soon as they could.
Luck wasn’t with them, though. Late in the morning the skies darkened and finally opened up.
“Stop here,” Jack told Amanda as they reached the top of a low rise. He could see the river in the distance, but he doubted there was time for them to cross before the current got too strong.
“You don’t think we can make it if we hurry?”
“Do you want to risk losing the load?”
“You’re right. Better a little late than washed away.”
Lightning lit up the sky and thunder boomed around them. It wasn’t going to be just a quick shower, Jack could tell.
“Come on! We’d better get in back! At least there’s some protection there,” he told her as he jumped down.
Jack quickly tied up the team and then ran around back and lifted the canvas tarp that covered their load.
“Climb in!”
He gave Amanda a boost up and climbed in after her. It wasn’t comfortable, but it beat the heck out of sitting in the pouring rain. He dropped the tarp to shield them from the downpour.
“It isn’t supposed to rain much in West Texas,” Amanda complained.
“We’re just lucky, I guess.”
“I’m not feeling very lucky. I’m just feeling wet.” She’d gotten soaked in the short time it had taken to tie up the mules and run around to the back of the wagon.
“You’ll dry out,” Jack said with a grin, but it was then that he noticed how her soaked blouse was clinging to her breasts. His mouth went dry. He swallowed tightly and forced his gaze away.
Amanda got as comfortable as she could, bracing herself against a stack of lumber, but it wasn’t easy. Even though it was warm, sitting around in damp clothes didn’t make for comfort. Soon, she began to shiver.
“You’re cold?”
“Yes.” She thought about moving closer to him to stay warm, but realized that she didn’t want to get too close to him. She remembered all too clearly the way he’d looked with his shirt off. It was better if she kept a physical distance between them.
“Do you want me to get your dry clothes for you? then you could change.”
“You wouldn’t look?”
“I’m a gentleman, remember? I would never take advantage of a young lady. Just ask Miss Hammond. She’ll tell you how wonderful I am.”
&
nbsp; “Well, Miss Hammond’s not here to keep an eye on things.”
“Do you need keeping an eye on? I thought that was why I was here.”
“Yes, but who’s keeping an eye on you?”
He grinned at her wickedly, then turned serious. “If you’re really that cold, I’ll get your things.”
“Thanks.”
Jack jumped out in the pouring rain and hurried to get her small traveling bag out of the driver’s box. While he was gone, Amanda unbuckled her gunbelt and laid it aside.
“Here,” he said as he climbed back in with her, “and don’t worry. I’ll turn my back to give you your privacy. I promise I won’t look. Not that I’m not tempted, mind you.” He shifted so his back was to her and he was looking away.
Amanda paused at his words. “But on the ship, you told me I should be more feminine.”
“I was angry when I said that,” he said.
“What did you have to be angry about?” she demanded. “You were the one who’d been bullying me.
“I was angry because I had to keep you out of trouble and get you home to your father in one piece, and you seemed determined to do everything in your power to make that difficult for me.”
“I was just doing what I thought was right.” She quickly started to change her clothes.
“I know, and I hope things did turn out all right for Becky Jennings. At least, we know she escaped her husband and had enough time to save herself. She would never have dared to make the move without your goading.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes.”
She couldn’t believe it. Jack was telling her that he was glad she’d done something that had gotten her into trouble. “I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.”
“I’m beginning to think it’s your middle name.”
She laughed. It was a throaty sound, a sensual sound, and Jack reacted instinctively to it. He almost swore out loud at the heat that rose in his body.
Amanda stared at him as he sat with his back to her. She remembered the scar and wanted desperately to reach out and touch him. He seemed so distant from her, though, even though he was right there.
“Jack—” she began tentatively.
“What? Are you done changing yet?” He sounded impatient.
The rain was beating a staccato rhythm on the canvas above them. Thunder was rumbling in the distance. A sense of timelessness overcame the moment.
Jack knew Amanda was sitting right there within arm’s reach. He knew how her damp blouse was caressing her and how her pants fit so perfectly across her hips. He wanted to touch her, to hold her. He also knew he couldn’t.
“I’m almost done, but I wanted to ask you something else.” She paused.
Jack didn’t say anything as he waited for her to go on.
“Jack,” Amanda said quietly, “why don’t you like me?”
The question startled him. “Like you?”
“Yes. I heard you tell Wes and Charity that you were my friend, but all you’ve ever wanted to do was get me back here so you could be rid of me.”
“Playing escort isn’t what I’m good at.”
“What are you good at?”
Her question hit the very heart of his dilemma. “I was a good Ranger once.”
“But not anymore? Not since El Diablo?”
“A lot has changed since then.”
“What happened? Your sister told me a little about what happened to you when we were in Galveston. How did El Diablo manage to catch you unawares?”
“She managed because I was a fool,” he answered tightly. “I thought Elizabeth was a beautiful, warm, wonderful woman, but in truth, she was a coldblooded killer.”
She heard the bitterness in his voice. “But how were you to know?”
“It was all there. I just wasn’t looking for it. She lied to me about everything, and I believed her.”
“Did you love her, Jack?”
There was a long silence again. “I thought I did, but I found out a lot about love with Elizabeth.”
Amanda could sense the tension in him as they spoke of the outlaw. “What happened after she stabbed you?”
“She fled out of town with her brother. She was tracked down and brought in later.”
“Did she hang?”
He gave a harsh laugh. “No. One of the wives of one of the men she’d seduced and then murdered shot her before she could stand trial.”
“Too bad,” Amanda said fiercely. “I wish she’d been hanged. Shooting was too good for her.”
“You didn’t even know her,” Jack said, surprised by the anger in her tone.
“No, but she almost killed you.”
“In some ways, I think she did kill me,” he admitted in a low voice.
His words tore at her heart, and Amanda couldn’t help herself. She reached out to touch him, her hand covering the place on his back where she’d seen the scar. “I’m sorry.”
Jack stiffened at her unexpected touch. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him with gentleness. He knew he should move away. He needed to distance himself from her. He needed to get away from her sweetness. He reminded himself that he was there to protect her, not take advantage of her. He was her bodyguard. He shouldn’t even be thinking about turning to her. But her touch was an invitation he could not refuse.
Jack faced Amanda. She knelt before him and lifted a hand to touch his cheek. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm before gathering her close. She bent to him, her lips seeking his in a gentle caress.
The passion that simple kiss evoked between them was neither gentle nor tender. The unspoken desire that had filled Jack for days surged through him. He crushed her to his chest as his mouth covered hers in a hungry exchange.
This time, as he deepened the kiss, Amanda did not try to push him away or end the embrace as she had on the ship. Instead, she welcomed him, reveling in his nearness.
They were pressed together, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, the softness of her breasts full against his chest. Jack’s hands moved restlessly over her, caressing her back, then moving lower. Needing her nearer, he cupped her hips and brought her against him.
At this intimate touch, sensations unlike anything Amanda had ever known pulsed through her. She wanted to be as close to him as she could. He was heat and excitement and passion. She gave a low moan in her throat as she linked her arms around his neck and eagerly kissed him back.
Jack slipped his hands around to unbutton her blouse and seek the silken beauty of her breasts. When he touched her for the first time, she gasped in delight at his bold caress. He pressed his lips to her throat and then moved lower to explore the sweet flesh he’d just exposed.
Amanda trembled at the caress of his lips upon her. She had never known such ecstasy. She instinctively arched her back, offering herself to him.
Jack lay down, bringing Amanda on top of him. They fit perfectly together, as if they were meant to be one. At the thought, he groaned low.
“Amanda. . . .” He said her name as he drew her down for a kiss.
“Don’t say anything,” she whispered, not wanting to think, only wanting to feel.
At her words, so innocently spoken, cold, hard memories suddenly intruded on Jack. They were memories he would have preferred to forget forever—memories of the night Elizabeth had come to him, the way she’d entreated, Don’t say a word, when he’d made love to her.
The similarity of the phrases stopped him just as he was about to strip away Amanda’s clothing and claim her for his own. He was jarred back to reality, suddenly remembering with all-too-painful clarity just who he was and what he was doing there.
And he wasn’t there to make love to Amanda.
He was there to keep her from harm.
He went still, and holding himself under iron control, he shifted away from her to sit up.
“Jack?” Amanda had been lost in the wonder of his loving, and now suddenly he had distanced himself from her. She didn
’t understand and felt bereft. She wanted to be back in his arms, holding him, kissing him. She reached out to him, hoping he would come back to her.
“No, Amanda. Don’t.” His voice was harsh.
“But Jack—” The haze of sensual awareness he’d created was shattered by his cold rebuff.
Jack knew he had to put an end to this now. He was deliberately sarcastic as he said, “Look, little girl, I work for your father. What we were doing here isn’t part of my job.”
Amanda was stunned by his rejection. She had thought that he cared for her. She had thought that he’d wanted to kiss her as much as she’d wanted to kiss him. “You know, Jack, maybe you were right. Maybe El Diablo did kill something inside you. Maybe El Diablo killed your heart.”
She twisted away, not wanting to look at him anymore. It hurt too much. She quickly rebuttoned her blouse, strapped her gunbelt back on and prayed for the rain to stop so they could get under way again.
When she glanced back a moment later, Jack had left the freighter.
Jack had never been more glad to see a storm end than he was that one. Sitting under a freight wagon waiting for the rain to stop had not been his idea of a pleasant pastime, and neither was making this trip alone with Amanda. His mood was as vile as his clothes were wet, and his clothes were going to dry a lot sooner than his mood was going to improve. He wanted to be in a bar somewhere, drunk. He wanted to be riding with Laughlin trying to find the Sheldons. He wanted to be anywhere but where he was.
The rain let up completely, and Jack climbed out from his poor excuse for a shelter to check on the team. The mules had weathered the storm without any problems, so Jack walked down toward the Brazos to get a better look at how it was running. It was flowing high and fast right then, but with any luck it would fall back in a few hours and they could be on their way. At least, he hoped it would only be a few hours. The possibility of being forced to spend an entire night alone with Amanda on the trail unnerved him.