by Bobbi Smith
“I’m glad we’re finally alone,” he said. “I wanted to apologize again for last night. I hope I wasn’t too bold.”
Amanda smiled at him. “No, Ted. There’s no need to apologize.”
He smiled back at her, his expression relieved, as if he truly had been worried that he’d offended her. “I’m glad.”
He would court her just as any Eastern gentleman would, and she would be his—along with the stage line. Ted was most pleased with his cunning.
“Ted? Dan’s awake and says he’d like to talk to you,” Eileen announced as she came back downstairs.
“Thanks.” He looked at Amanda. “Will I see you later?”
“Of course. In fact, if you like, I’ll wait for you, and we can go over to the office together.”
“Fine. I’d like that.”
It was late afternoon when Amanda finally got away from the stage office. She had passed a very busy day. Ted had been working by her side for most of it, and she was coming to enjoy his company and his intelligent conversation. He was unthreatening, agreeable and interested in her activities in Philadelphia—a far cry from Jack Logan.
After putting Isaac in charge, Amanda went straight home. She checked on her father and found that he was doing much better. Relieved, she went downstairs and got her gunbelt out. She had just started to strap it on when Eileen found her.
“Are you going out to practice?” Eileen asked. “Yes, there’s a safe place out back. It’s about three-quarters of a mile from the house. I’ll be far enough away that the noise won’t bother Papa.”
“You be careful.”
“I will.”
“Maybe one of these days you can teach me how to shoot. Then I could ride shotgun on the stages with you, too,” Eileen told her with a grin.
“You let me know when you want to start learning, and I’ll teach you. I was a pretty decent shot as a kid. I just hope I haven’t lost my touch.” She checked her sidearm and slid it into the holster. “I hope I’m just out of practice.”
“Well, no matter what, you’ve still got Jack around for protection.”
Amanda’s expression turned serious. “That’s exactly the problem. I don’t want to have to rely on Jack or any other man for anything. If I can run this business, I can certainly learn to protect myself. All it will take is a little target shooting.”
“I’ll be worrying about you.”
Amanda grinned wickedly as she patted her side-arm. “No need to worry, ma’am. I’ve got my trusty six-gun.”
“It’s my nature to worry about those I care for, especially when guns are involved,” Eileen told her.
“Yes, ma’am,” Amanda teased as she headed out the door.
Jack had already been at work at the stage office when Ted and Amanda arrived together that morning. She had come into the office, laughing happily at something Ted had said and gazing up at him as if he were the most wonderful man in the world. Jack wasn’t scheduled to ride out with Amanda until the next afternoon, so he’d deliberately taken jobs that kept him busy and away from her and Ted all day.
It was near dark when Jack finally finished all his work. He went to his room and cleaned up before heading over to the Taylor house to speak with Dan.
As he neared the house, though, Jack heard the sound of gunfire in the distance. Fearing trouble, he headed in the direction of the shots. He was careful not to make any noise as he approached the area, for he had no idea who might be out there shooting.
Jack made his way carefully through the mesquite trees and emerged in a clearing to find Amanda, her six-gun in hand, taking careful aim at a line of bottles she’d set up in the distance. He watched in silence as she concentrated on her target and fired the shot. Her hand jerked. The shot went wide. It wasn’t even close.
“Damn!” Amanda muttered, greatly irritated with herself. If she’d been firing at an attacker, he would have been unscathed and she, most probably, would be dead right now.
“I thought ladies didn’t cuss,” Jack observed.
She gasped and turned to find him smiling wryly at her. She was suddenly nervous, surprised by his intrusion.
“I’m not that kind of lady,” she said, sliding her gun back in her holster.
“My mistake,” he drawled. “What are you trying to do? Practice up for your next temperance march, when you’ll be carrying guns instead of axes?”
“I needed some target practice,” she announced. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to use my gun.”
“I hope it will be a long time before you have to use it again.” He nodded toward the bottles. “But if you want to practice, go ahead and draw again. Let me watch. Maybe I can help you.”
She drew the gun, aimed and fired. Again her shot went wide.
Jack went to stand next to her. In one smooth move, he drew his own gun, fired and blasted away one of the bottles. He slid his gun back into his holster in a slick move and smiled down at her.
“Show-off,” she muttered resentfully as she went to set another bottle in its place.
“Do you want some advice?” he offered as she marched determinedly back to where he stood.
It was in her mind to tell him what he could do with his advice, but she knew he was a gunman and she did want to learn. “All right. Tell me. What am I doing wrong?”
Jack tried to think of the best way to explain the techniques, but decided it would be easier to demonstrate. “Let me show you.”
Jack moved to stand behind her. He felt her stiffen as his hand covered hers. “When you draw, make it a slow, smooth motion, not jerky, but steady. And then shoot from the hip.”
He guided her hand over the gun grip and helped her draw and fire. The shot shattered a bottle.
“Like this?” She repeated the move with his help and shot the second target.
“See how easy it is? It should feel right when you do it. Your gun should feel like it’s a part of your body. Let’s do it one more time.”
His words, spoken so close to her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. It was difficult enough to concentrate with him standing directly behind her. His big body was warm and powerful, and as he fitted himself to her to help her draw, it was all she could do to keep from trembling from the force of her reaction to his nearness.
Damn him!
Amanda wanted to lean back against him, to rest her head on his strong shoulder and let herself enjoy the hard-muscled circle of his arms around her.
Something about Jack deeply disturbed her, and not in a way she liked to be disturbed. She was a woman who was used to being in control of her senses. She was logical and intelligent and independent. She didn’t need this kind of distraction. She didn’t need Jack Logan!
“I’ll try it on my own this time,” she declared fiercely, needing to fight the attraction she felt for him.
“Are you sure you can do it alone?” Jack asked as he stepped away from her.
“I’m going to try.”
Amanda took a deep breath and drew and fired. Her shot was closer than before, but she still could not hit the target.
“It looks like you need another lesson.” He went to her and put his arms around her again.
“It’s almost dark.”
“Then we’d better hurry.”
He felt her tremble.
“But before, you said to do it slow.”
“Shall I show you again?”
“Yes.” Her words were soft and inviting.
Jack knew the lesson he was about to teach Amanda had nothing to do with guns. He forgot about her side-arm; he forgot about the bottles. All he knew was that Amanda was in his arms, pressed against him, and the scent of her perfume was intoxicating.
“Amanda—” He said her name in a low voice as he turned her to face him.
With a gentle hand, Jack cupped her cheek and lifted her face so she was looking at him. He saw the confusion in her gaze and smiled at her.
Amanda saw the heat of desire in Jack’s eyes, and her heartb
eat quickened in response. She knew he was going to kiss her, and she knew that she wanted his kiss. When Ted had held her in his arms the night before, it had been nice. But now, in Jack’s embrace, she knew the true meaning of excitement.
Jack moved slowly to kiss her, and Amanda was lost as his mouth settled over hers in a possessive, passionate exchange. Any and all logical thought vanished before the persuasive ecstasy of his embrace. Her world narrowed to the deepening shadows of night, the cool of the evening—and Jack. She moaned low in her throat as she looped her arms around his neck and clung to him.
“Amanda.” He said her name in a voice hoarse with passion.
She drew back to look up at him, but didn’t speak. He could see that she felt the same thing he did.
“I was teaching you how to—”
She cut him off with a soft kiss. “There’s only thing I want you to teach me, Jack Logan, and it has nothing to do with guns.”
As he watched, she stepped away from him and slowly, almost sensuously, unbuckled her gunbelt and laid it aside. Without a word, she went back into his arms and lifted her lips to his.
At her unspoken surrender, any restraint Jack had had over himself was gone. He kissed her hungrily, then sought the sweetness of her throat as he lifted her up in his arms and laid her upon the soft grass. Locked in each other’s arms, they came together in ecstasy’s splendor.
With each touch, each kiss, their passion grew. Jack helped her slip off her blouse, and she reached for him, working at the buttons on his shirt. She was as eager for this closeness as he was. When at last they came together without the barrier of their clothing between them, she reveled in the heat of his hard body against her.
The spark that had ignited the fire of their need had now become a raging inferno. Jack caressed her, wanting to pleasure her, wanting to show her the beauty of loving. Her flesh was silken beneath his touch. He longed to bury himself in the hot depths of her, to claim her for his own and brand her forever with his love.
Amanda had never known such ecstasy. There were no thoughts of right or wrong as she gave herself over to his loving. She wanted—no, needed—to be with him. She longed to lose herself in his arms, to kiss him and hold him and love him. He was all hot, hard, dangerous male, and she wanted to surrender all of her innocence to him even as she wanted to conquer him with her softness.
When Jack moved over her to make her his, she stilled and looked up at him. Her expression was passionate, yet fearful, as she faced the unknown for the first time.
Jack braced himself on his forearms above her as he slowly, sensuously fitted himself to her.
“If you want me to stop, Amanda, tell me now.”
She lifted her arms to him in welcome, and he pressed his strength home, seeking the silken depths of her. The proof of her innocence stopped him. He almost drew back for fear that he was hurting her, but she held him more tightly than ever and shifted her hips to accept him more fully. At her move, Jack could no longer deny the need that drove him. He pressed deeply forward, claiming her virginity, making her his own.
The pain of his possession was sharp. Amanda quieted as she adjusted to the sensation, so foreign to her. She was unsure and a bit timid at the intimacy.
Jack understood her reaction. He remained unmoving as he kissed her. It was a tender kiss at first, but the passion that smoldered within them ignited again. Soon Amanda forgot everything but the glory of being one with Jack. His touch aroused a spiraling desire within her that left her aching for more. She began to move with him, matching his rhythm, learning how to please him.
Amanda’s eager response was almost Jack’s undoing. He sought the peak of pleasure, taking her with him, wanting her to know the rapture that could be theirs. And then the beauty of it burst around them, enveloping them in a sweet rapture that left them clinging together.
They lay on the soft bed of grass, their desperate need for each other sated. As their wild passion eased, they slowly became aware of their surroundings and the magnitude of what had just happened between them.
Jack recovered his sanity first, and he couldn’t believe what he’d done. He had just made love to Amanda.
Silently, he berated himself. He was disgusted with his lack of control. He knew he wouldn’t blame Dan if his friend came after him with a gun or a horsewhip. Amanda had been a virgin.
“Amanda.” He said her name quietly as he shifted away from her.
“Hmmm?” she asked languidly, still caught up in the afterglow of love. She reached for him, wanting him back in her arms.
“Amanda, I’m sorry. This won’t ever happen again.”
“What?” She opened her eyes to look at him in confusion.
“I never meant for this to happen. I took advantage of your innocence.”
His words jarred her from the blissful haze that had surrounded her to the harshness of reality—she had just made love to Jack Logan.
“I am my own woman. You did not take advantage of me,” she ground out. “So there’s no need for any guilt on your part.”
Suddenly, the warmth she’d been feeling was gone, and she was chilled in body and soul. She snatched up her clothes and began to dress.
Jack was caught totally off guard by her harsh reaction. “Amanda, I—”
“Don’t say it. What happened here was obviously a mistake. It might be wise, the next time you see me taking target practice, to cut a wide path around me. You’re a bigger target than my bottles, and I might not have as much trouble hitting you.”
With that she snatched up her gunbelt and stalked away into the darkness that now covered the land.
Jack knew he’d been a fool to give in to his desire for her. But as he watched her walk away, he thought she was the most magnificent woman he’d ever seen.
Chapter Fifteen
Amanda was furious with herself as she stomped back toward the house. She was grateful for the cover of darkness, so no one could see how agitated she was. Jack Logan had been driving her crazy since the first day they’d met, and she didn’t understand how she could have given herself to him so easily. One kiss and she’d all but thrown herself at him.
Her weakness was disgusting. . . . It was horrible that she had so little self control. But his kiss had been exciting. And loving him had been wonderful. . . .
Stopping in the night, Amanda faced the truth. She’d given herself to Jack because it had been exactly what she’d wanted to do. Ted’s kiss had been nice. Jack’s kiss was devastating. He had only to touch her, and she was his.
Amanda stared off into the darkness, thinking of Jack, of how he’d rescued her from the bar in Philadelphia and saved her from Micah Jennings. She remembered his kiss on the ship and how close they’d come to making love in the back of the freight wagon. She thought of tonight and how she’d reacted when he’d put his arms around her to help her draw her gun, and the truth came to her.
As irritating and arrogant and demanding as Jack was . . .
She loved him.
The knowledge frightened Amanda. She tried to deny it, but the memory of his loving could not be banished. Her knees went weak as she recalled how wonderful it had been to be with him. She had never known that loving someone could be so beautiful. It had been ecstasy. She wanted him still—all of him—and yet he’d told her it would never happen again.
Her anger turned to despair. He’d apologized. He’d said he was sorry that they’d made love. He’d said that he’d taken advantage of her innocence.
She might love him, but he obviously didn’t love her.
A great heaviness settled in her heart. Their coming together had meant nothing to Jack.
Amanda waited a minute longer to collect her thoughts. She smoothed her hair into a semblance of order and brushed off her clothes. She wanted to make sure she looked normal when she returned to the house. As eagle-eyed as Eileen was, it would be hard to put something past her. When she’d finally gathered her wits about her, Amanda went on inside.
&
nbsp; “There you are. I was getting worried about you,” Eileen told her as she met her at the door.
“I ran into Jack and we talked for a while,” she explained, deciding not to lie.
“Is he coming up to see your father?”
“No. We had words, so he went on back to his hotel, I guess.”
“I do wish you and Jack could get along better. He’s such a fine young man.”
Amanda was in no mood to listen to Eileen sing his praises. “He’s all yours, Eileen. Why don’t you marry him and run off with him? Then I wouldn’t have to put up with him anymore.”
Eileen smiled brightly at the thought. “If he’d have me, I’d go with him in a minute, but I think the fact that I’m old enough to be his mother might put him off a bit.”
Amanda caught a glimpse of the beauty Eileen was once as a young girl. “Were you ever married?”
“No”—Eileen sighed—“but I was in love once, oh so many years ago.”
“What happened?”
“He was a sailor on a merchant ship that went down in a storm,” she said simply.
Even after all the years that had passed, Amanda could still hear the pain in Eileen’s voice as she spoke of it. “I’m sorry. What was his name?”
“His name was Andrew—Andrew Copeland.” She paused. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to think of him. “We were young . . . so very young. I believe I was seventeen and he was twenty. We were engaged, and he promised we would be married after his next trip. But he never made it back. The ship was lost somewhere off the coast of France. There were no survivors.”
Amanda went to Eileen and put an arm around her. “I wish there was some way to turn the clock back and shanghai him before he sailed on that last trip.”