“Dammit, Gabe, do you see a rock?” Something to climb up on. Seeing nothing, and getting no reply from his mount, he untied the gelding and led him away, stumbling now and then.
After about half a mile of toe-dragging over the flat prairie, he sank onto the ground. “To hell with this, boy. Gotta git on one way or another.”
With one final effort, he climbed to his feet, placed a toe in the stirrup, grabbed the pommel with his good hand and gave a mighty heave. Grunting and groaning, panting like a dog, he managed to inch a leg over the saddle. Pain sent stars rocketing through the darkness but he hung on and talked softly to the patient horse, till he could plant his other foot in the stirrup. Grinding his teeth against the pain, he slumped forward along Gabe’s neck and urged him on before daylight caught up with them.
Wilda waited for him down by the river, the sky was turning fast. He had to get out of this town before someone spotted him and checked him out. The soldiers from Fort Hays worried him the most.
The sun was almost up when he rode into the trees along the riverbank. Kicking out of the stirrups, he dragged a leg over the saddle, slid to the ground and leaned against Gabe breathing hard.
It’d been a lot of years since he’d last been shot. Sure as hell forgot how bad it hurt, how weak it left a fella. But he’d made it back to her without being spotted. He could rest up a day or so before they rode out. Sure as hell wished they had another mount.
Reins in one hand, he led Gabe through the trees toward where he’d left her sleeping.
****
The moment her eyes opened, Wilda sensed danger. Lying on the ground, alone and exposed. Why was it so quiet? Where was Calder? For a brief instant, she wished it had all been a dream, the hellish year-long trip and all that had happened since they’d left St. Ann’s. But it was all too real, and wishing wouldn’t make it different. She had clearly lost her mind and placed herself in a position of grave peril. Still, she would never return to Fairhaven and its master Blair Prescott. Not if he appeared at this very moment, got down on one knee and begged and pleaded, would she go back to the life he wanted for them. She would rather die right here, right now.
The trouble was, that might very well happen, and in spite of her reluctance to return to Blair, she did not want to die. Would she choose life with Blair over death? She certainly had chosen life with Calder over the idea of living with that cruel Lord in his castle prison.
Calder. Where was he?
Afraid to call out, she rose, shook sand from her skirts and stepped behind some brush to relieve herself. Rather than return to the small clearing where they had slept, she remained hidden, waiting, watching. As daylight slid across the plains, she squinted her eyes at the great distance, but he was nowhere in sight. He’d snuck off in the night, like the thief he was. She’d probably never see him again. He probably decided to leave her here rather than deal with a troublesome woman. What would she do if he didn’t come back?
The ponderous thudding of horses’ hooves, the creak and jingle of leather saddle and bridle preceded a shadowy horse with no sign of a rider. For a moment she couldn’t breathe or move. They’d killed him. Shot him in the night. Then he came in sight, leading Gabe, and she almost fainted with relief.
“Wilda?” he called softly.
She burst from hiding and ran to him. Dark blood coated the arm of his shirt. “You’re hurt. Where have you been? I was afraid you…” Two gunnysacks hung from the saddle. “Wh-what’s that?”
“Brought us something to eat.” He tried to untie one of the sacks, grimaced with pain and leaned his head against Gabe.
She touched his back. “Here, let me. I can get those. You sit down. I’ll take care of your arm.”
In reply, he sank to the ground right where he stood. “Gabe first.”
“Okay, but you stay right there.”
He chuckled dryly. “Doubt I’ll have any trouble doing that.”
She unloaded the cache, loosened the cinch on Gabe’s saddle and tugged it to the ground.
“Leave his bridle on, he’ll stay around with the reins hanging.”
When the saddle came off Gabe gave her a grateful look, then shook himself all over before moving toward the river where he lowered his muzzle into the cold water. She knew exactly how he felt rid of some of the trappings.
She sat beside Calder, removed the medicines he’d brought and examined them. “Where’d you get all this?”
“In Hays.”
“In the middle of the night?” She stared at him. “You stole it?”
“Well, I didn’t have money to buy it, and our bellies thought our throats had been cut. Had to do something.”
Briefly she studied the cans of peaches and tomatoes and beans and milk, a cone of dark sugar wrapped in parchment paper and a loaf of dark bread. Time to eat later, after she saw to Calder’s wound.
“Okay, let’s take off your shirt. No sense in tearing it up since you don’t have another. I’ll fix your arm and then we’ll eat. I’m starving.”
While she cleaned his wound and wrapped it, she chattered to distract him from the pain.
“Looks like you were lucky. It’s not too bad and the bullet went all the way through.” Seeing he was okay, she began to fume. “What were you thinking? What if they’d caught you? And I’d have been here alone, not even knowing where you were. Or if you were dead or alive.” Anger at him grew until she wanted to hammer on him instead of wrapping the wound.
“I guess after a few days I’d just had to wander off or something. And probably never be found again.”
He hissed through his teeth while she worked, and when at last she finished, his grimace turned into a weak grin. “Pretty gal like you wouldn’t wander anywhere very long.”
She tilted her head and answered his grin with a ferocious frown. “Don’t give me that pretty gal nonsense. It won’t get you out of trouble. I think I’ll just not speak to you for a few days, see how you like it.”
He grinned weakly. “Might be a relief if you’re going to keep on at me.”
She tied the bandage firmly and stood up. “There. Now, I’m hungry.” She pawed through the canned goods, set aside a couple.
“Not so mad at me for bringing something to eat, I see.”
“Oh, hush.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that. I might remind you that hush is a western word, not one you brought with you. Before long you’ll have gone over to our side, become a yank.”
“Mmm,” she said and held up a can of peaches.
He shifted a bit and cradled the arm. “Sorry I couldn’t bring anything that needed cooking. We don’t dare build a fire or we’ll be spotted. But I thought this would do till we get out of this country and away from your Lord’s men.”
He took out his knife, held the can of peaches between his knees and sawed it open. “I thought these would do for breakfast. The tomatoes will make a good dinner later. If I wasn’t afraid they’d hear the shot, I coulda got us a rabbit, but gunfire travels far on these plains. Besides, I didn’t think you’d want to eat it raw. We’ll just have to do without.”
“Calder, don’t you ever leave me alone again, you hear?”
Why didn’t he just shut up? He acted as if it were perfectly normal for a man to rob a store, get shot and sit down to a meal.
“Okay. Okay, I won’t.” Bending the jagged metal lid out of the way, he pierced a peach half with his knife, took a bite, and glanced up at her. “Here. Don’t let it drop in the dirt. It’s good.”
Juice of the sweet peach shimmered on his lips, and she could not hold back any longer. Dropping down beside him, she held the palm of her hand under the golden fruit while he transferred it to her mouth. The thick, rich syrup slid down her throat, cool and delicious. So good that she forgot all about how he had found the food.
“Oh, my. How wonderful.”
“Yeah, stealing don’t change the taste one bit.”
She chose not to reply. Hated to admit he was right.
<
br /> Placing the can carefully on the ground so it wouldn’t turn over, he tore off a piece of bread, handed it to her and tore off another for himself. They sat in the grass in the morning sun and shared the fruit and bread, taking turns drinking the last of the juice.
He glanced at her, then dropped his gaze. “I love you, you know,” he said.
“Look at me, please.”
He raised his head, green eyes sparkling in morning sunlight.
“Now, tell me again.”
For a long moment he studied her, then murmured, “You first.”
“Okay, yes. I do love you, else why would I be here? Now, you look at me and say it.”
Grunting, he scooted closer to her, leaned forward until his lips brushed hers. “I love you,” he said, then took her mouth to his. He tasted of sweet peaches.
She ran her fingers through his tangled hair and held him close, her tongue exploring his.
He leaned into her, drifted kisses along her neck and into the vee of her breasts. “I want you, Wilda, my wild one.”
“You’ll hurt your arm.”
“Who cares?” He moved to her rigid nipple, tasted her through the dress, pulled her into the grass so they lay stretched out against each other.
A shiver of delight washed over her and laughing like children at play they undressed each other. The warmth of the rising sun fell across them like a blanket.
Despite the hardship of what was sure to come, she felt free and happy for the first time since her parents had died.
He wiped the knife blade, folded it closed and put it in his pocket, rose, still favoring the wounded arm. But he looked much better, not so pale or drawn around the mouth and eyes.
He stood above her and reached down. “Come on, let’s wash off the sticky and get out of here. I’d hoped to stay and rest up, but it’s worrying at me. All these soldiers everywhere. We’re still a long way from being safe. If a troop of them don’t find us, someone else will. They’re sure to come back after us today, either your Lordship’s gang of pansies on their bob-tailed ponies or Sheriff Calumet’s posse.”
Rising, she fetched his bloody shirt and followed him toward the river. “I’d like to take a bath and wash my dress, too.” Rubbing a palm down the front of the stained dress, she thought of her new friend Rachel and her beautiful children. “Oh, what about Rachel? What will happen to her now?”
In silence, he dropped to his knees on the riverbank. When he didn’t reply, she kneeled beside him and began to wash her hands. “Maybe we could rob the bank.”
Hands immersed in water, he looked up. “No, we are not going to rob a bank.”
“But, I could be—what do you call it?—the lookout and you could do the robbing. Just enough for her to go home. Please, we have to do something.”
Excitement pushed aside the apprehension that stirred deep within her. What would it be like to rob a bank? And it wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? Didn’t banks have insurance? Besides, they all had plenty of money, those people who built their fancy castles and filled them with rich damask linens and crystal and silver. None poor like her and Tyra and Rowena.
He glanced at her with a lopsided grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever been known for smarts, but I guess it could work. If we did it for Rachel. I’d need you to wait outside of town with Gabe. We need us another mount, but I could take one tonight in town, hide out until the bank opens and hit them before they know what happened.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. What if…if you get shot or caught or something.”
“I won’t. Never have.”
She gazed pointedly at his bandaged arm. “You’re shot now.”
He chuckled. “Reckon I am, but it’s better already. You’re one hell of a doc.” He stood and wiped his wet hands down the sides of his jeans. “They’d never expect us to double back and do something like that. You don’t want to go, you can wait here. I’ll come back for you.”
A fist tightened in her stomach. What had she done? She’d started this, now wished she hadn’t. “No, you said you wouldn’t leave me. Blair will keep coming till he finds me. You don’t know him. You can’t go if I don’t.”
“And what will you do, hogtie me?” He rubbed his fingertips over the set line of her jaw, stared down into her frightened eyes. “I’m sorry for teasing you, but this is the life I lead, and I want you with me. It’s time you understood. I’m an outlaw, that’s my job.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. After this, you can get another job. What you need to understand is that I won’t remain here. After you fall asleep, I’ll tie you up. Hogtie you.” She experimented with the word, liked the sound of it.
His laughter startled a flock of birds, and they scattered from the trees, swooping through the sky in a dark cloud.
“I’m the expert, if we do this you’ll do what I say when I say it, you understand?”
She nodded her head meekly, then shot him a glare. “Long as you’re not leaving me.
He nodded. “Let’s just stop all this palaver. It’s settled.” Finger under her chin, he lifted it so their eyes met. “It’s only a game, after all. A game of cat and mouse. And you said it yourself. Rachel and her kids need to go home.”
He watched her war within herself.
She furrowed her brow and nibbled at her lower lip. “If it’s a game, I would rather be the cat than the mouse.”
“And that you will be,” he promised.
Mischief in her eyes she backed away, ran into the river. When the water reached her shoulders, she pulled the dress over her head, doused it up and down till waves lapped at his feet where he stood on the shore. She scrubbed the dress, then his bloody shirt, wadded both and tossed them onto the sandy bank. “Would you spread those in the sun to dry?”
“Well, I’m damned,” he muttered. Amazed, he stared at the naked girl, well at least at her head. His imagination had to do the rest, as the water was too murky.
That didn’t take long. Wild urges sent all sorts of messages down south. He picked up the clothing, found a nearby bush and spread both garments on the branches. Not wasting any motion, he undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and kicked out of everything, except for one leg of his britches that dragged around an ankle till he reached the water. He danced on one foot and struggled to untangle the denim.
Her laughter floated over the water, and he cursed under his breath. He was hard as a blamed rock and she was leading him around by his whacker as if her fingers were encircling it.
Nervously he made a final check of the area. From where they were, no one approaching from either way on the road could see them. Dare they take a chance to have a bath and play a while? As he lifted his head, she rose out of the water till it was only waist deep. Sunlight shimmered on her breasts, the nipples rosy and erect against her pale skin.
That wasn’t all that was erect. He’d never been so dag-blasted exposed in all his life.
Ah, hell, who cared anyway? Gaze locked on her, he waded into the cool water till it touched his bare ass. Damn, that felt good, but not near as good as what he was about to do.
Smiling shyly, she reached out a hand and he took her wet fingers in his.
“Are you sure your arm is okay for this?”
“Can’t feel a thing.” He glanced down. “Well, at least not in the arm.”
A fish took ticklish nibbles from his thigh. The little fellows must have been checking her out too because her eyes widened and she moved forward, bumping up against him.
“Oh, my goodness.” Palm flattened against his stomach, she moved it ever so slowly down until it closed around his erection.
He gritted his teeth and did some hanging on of his own.
“I don’t… I’ve never.”
“I know. I’ll show you.” Leaning forward, he bit the lobe of her ear, kissed the wet smoothness of her jawline, captured her mouth with his. Oh, God, he was about to bust.
A tiny note of surprise crawled from her throat. Her tongue met his. T
hey were going to do it. At last. This time she surely wouldn’t let him stop. Hell, he wouldn’t let him stop. No more fooling around.
He would have smiled at the small contented sounds coming from her, but his lips were too busy devouring her silky taste. The water lapped around them. The stillness of the hot summer day kissed their shoulders with sunlight. Funny the coolness of the river didn’t cool his ardor one bit, nor hers either, by the way she moved against him. Soon he absorbed her rhythm. He’d lied about the pain in his arm, but when her fingers closed around his sex, it was lost to the explosive desire.
So long, so damned long he didn’t even want to think about the only girl he’d ever loved. This one, she would be forever.
“Oh, God, Wilda.” He clung to her shoulders, pulled her close. Desire grew like a great fire out of control and devouring everything before it.
She took his hand. “Not in the water, let’s lie in the grass there in the shade.”
He’d follow her anywhere, let her lead him in a blind passion to have her. Through the sand, dripping water, into the deep, dark shadows under the cottonwoods. Leaves whispered in the afternoon wind and she lay down, still holding on to his hand. He knelt beside her, leaned forward and lapped at her breast, took the turgid nipple into his mouth and sucked.
“Oh, dear. Oh, my. Oh, God. That feels wonderful.”
And that was only the beginning.
Determined to taste every inch of her, he set to the task, willing his swelling sex to wait, hold on. Not yet, damn it. I’m not done with this.
She twisted under his kisses, wound her fingers through his wet hair, parted her legs for him when he reached for the honeyed recesses of her swollen sex, barely disguised by a pale drift of red hair. He would be careful, he must be. For to hurt her was to commit a sin. But he had to be inside her, couldn’t wait. Go easy, that’s all. Straddling her on his knees, he used his fingers to ready her, waited till she grew wet from her own juices, then guided himself inside her velvety sweetness, came up against her maidenhead. He’d nearly burst right there, but he couldn’t wouldn’t. Not yet. Not yet.
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