Jessie's War (Civil War Steam)

by Connors, Meggan

  “The horses need tending. We need food. You need a bath and so do I. What’s not to like?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were fighting a smile. “I’ve already offered to bathe with you. Since we both need it.”

  “I thought you said you wanted me to hate you.”

  The smile he’d been suppressing broke free. “Sweet Jessie. I only offer because I know you’ll refuse, and it’s fun to tease you.”

  “What are we, five? You gonna pull my hair, too?”

  His grin widened, a bright flash of white against the shadow of his whiskers. “Only if you want me to.”

  “You’re incorrigible.” She rolled her eyes, but laughed all the same.

  “So I’ve been told.” He tucked her hand back under his arm and leading her down the hall to the washrooms. He secured the room, and turned back to her. “You lock this door behind me. Don’t come out until I come for you.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m serious, Jess.” He shoved a gun into her hands. “Take this. But I mean it. Don’t open this door for any reason. I don’t care if the building is on fire, I don’t care if there’s a little kid screaming out here, you don’t open this door. I will come for you.”

  “I got it.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Be safe.” And with that, he closed the door. For a change, Jessie followed orders and did as he asked.

  * * * *

  By the time he’d returned forty-five minutes later, she had bathed, washed her hair, put new bandages on her wound, and dressed in her small clothes. Wrapping a thick, cotton robe around her body, she pocketed the pistol and gathered up her clothes to meet Luke at the door.

  His hair was wet and curled around his ears. He’d shaved off the stubble on his jaw, and he looked so much like the boy she remembered—the boy in the picture with Gideon—that she had to swallow the knot in her throat. Turning abruptly, he signaled for her to follow him.

  Luke.

  Swallowing hard, she gave him a nervous smile and followed him silently down the hall, the floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet. He ushered her into their room and the door whispered shut behind him. He locked it and wedged a chair underneath the knob.

  From his expression, she guessed he’d later move the chest of drawers in front of it, if only so the two of them could get a little sleep.

  At that moment, she caught her reflection in the mirror of the dresser she’d just been thinking about—and saw the toll the last two days had taken.

  A green bruise had blossomed across her right cheek, and there were angry scratches on her neck and across the bridge of her nose. Her face was pale and drawn, her features pinched, the rings under her eyes showing just how tired she was.

  She put an anxious hand to her hair and fought sudden, inexplicable tears.

  Luke caught Jessie’s eye in the mirror’s reflection. Turning her toward him, he traced the line of her jaw with his forefinger, delicately touching the bruise she hadn’t even realized she had. Her heart stuttered and before she knew it, she was leaning into his touch.

  “That’s a good shiner you’ve got. “ He brushed the hair off her forehead, and the intimacy in that small gesture brought tears to her eyes.

  “Well, if I’m going to get into a spot of trouble, I figure I may as well look like I just lost a bar fight,” she said, trying to make light of it. Fighting the tears and the desire to fold herself into his arms.

  “‘A spot of trouble.’ Interesting way you have of phrasing it. A lesser woman would be dead.” He threaded his fingers into her wet hair. “And a few scratches don’t change how beautiful you are.”

  Her heart swelled at his praise, and she gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re funny.”

  “I’m not teasing.” He tangled his other hand into her hair. He stroked her temple with his thumb.

  Was she bruised there, too?

  For a moment, he dropped his guard, and she thought she saw intense emotion in his eyes. Lust. Pain. Longing. Joy.

  “Look at me,” she whispered.

  “I am.”

  “Then you’re blind.”

  “Nope. I’m looking at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. A few bruises don’t change that.”

  Jessie wanted to weep. When he looked at her like that, she felt beautiful and desirable and she forgot how different she was and how angry she should be. Instead, she wanted to have him hold her while she cried until she had no more tears left. Kiss him until dawn broke and the pain went away.

  She wanted to forgive him and have him be her man for however long he’d have her.

  Her body contracted with want. Unable to fight the urge to touch him, she placed her hands on his chest and felt the steady rise and fall.

  It was so hard to believe he was alive, and so hard to forget what might have been. So hard to deny herself the one thing she had wanted for so long.

  “Oh, hell.” She pulled him down roughly and kissed him with everything she had inside her. All the pain. All the anger. All the lust and desire.

  All the love.

  She channeled it all into a kiss she wished would go on forever.

  Luke fisted his hands into her hair, pulling her head back, grinding his lips against hers.

  She took his lower lip into her mouth, and was rewarded with a low growl of pleasure.

  He broke the kiss. “Jessie…”

  “Shut up.” She plunged her hands into his hair and delighted in the texture of the silky strands between her fingers. She coiled a lock around her finger. “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He laughed and pulled her body against his, but his hands were tender. “So bossy.” His lips found hers in a kiss so achingly gentle tears stung her eyes.

  “You wouldn’t want me any other way.” Words whispered against his lips.

  He answered her by pressing his lips against hers, and heat spiraled through her body and centered between her legs. Desire screamed in her veins, her body dissolving into lust, fierce and out of control.

  Picking her up, he moved over to the couch and sat, settling her in his lap. She straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, as she opened her mouth and her tongue tangled with his.

  He groaned and ground into her, and for a moment, she went blind with lust.

  It had been so long.

  He broke the kiss and moved to her neck, his lips gliding across the sensitive flesh below her ear while he palmed her breast. The nipple puckered beneath his hand.

  She groaned when he ducked his head to take a hardened nipple into his mouth, right through the thin fabric of her undergarments.

  Pleasure so intense it bordered on pain lanced through her. All she could think about was removing the last of her clothes and pressing her bare flesh against his. To feel his heat, to take his warmth, to revel in his presence, to celebrate his life and hers.

  With shaking hands, she began unbuttoning his shirt, and the moment she saw a shock of wiry, dark hair, she bent her head, pressed a kiss to it, and tasted his skin. Inhaled the minty fragrance of the soap he used and the scent of him, the smell of summer rain on the salt flats and leather.

  A sharp crack at the door startled her, and she sat back.

  Luke threaded his hands into her hair and held her fast. “Don’t you dare.” He turned to the door. “Go away!”

  “It’s the kitchen. I’ve brought up the supper you requested.”

  Jessie sat back on his lap. “Oh, food. I’m starved.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her hungrily. “As am I.” It was clear he didn’t mean for food. He called to the man on the other side of the door, “Can you leave the tray in the hallway?”

  “You left very clear instructions with the kitchen, sir.”

  Luke groaned softly into her ear.

  Turning her head, she took his earlobe into her mouth and sucked gently. “Get the door and send him aw
ay,” Jessie whispered. She let him see the offer in her eyes.

  His mouth tightened and he gave her a greedy kiss, branding her as his. Not that he really needed to claim what had been his all along.

  “As the lady commands.” Lifting her from his lap as if she weighed next to nothing, he set her to one side. “But I swear to you, once he’s gone, we’re finishing this.”

  Her heart danced like a dervish. “All right,” she whispered.

  Rubbing his face, he drew a long, shaking breath. “All right,” he echoed. As he opened the door, Luke flashed her a smile, and she felt another rush of tenderness that had nothing to do with what had just happened between them.

  Luke.

  A hotel clerk in a dark string tie stood in the hallway, holding a tray of food. He peered around Luke, and his eyes met Jessie’s, and she felt a tingle in her spine that caused her to look at him and really see him.

  “Sir,” he said to Luke.

  Just a hotel clerk dressed in a dark suit and a black string tie. Nothing was unusual.

  Something was wrong.

  He was wrong.

  Luke’s posture shifted, and he blocked the entrance to the room with his body. Taking the tray from the man’s hands, he moved to close the door.

  “Luke?” she asked nervously, rising to her feet. Another blink, the tray flipped over, and she screamed, “Luke!”

  Too late. For in that moment, the clerk plunged a knife into Luke’s chest.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Luke twisted, and as he fell, he grabbed his attacker and they both went to ground. Grunting, he clawed and punched the clerk amid bread rolls and silverware.

  Jessie had never witnessed a fight like this. She was more accustomed to the brawls of Virginia City—screamed obscenities, glass breaking, the crowd chanting. By contrast, this fight was oddly quiet. After the initial crash, the only sounds were of fists meeting flesh.

  Both men were determined to win this fight, but only one would walk out of this room.

  The knife flashed among the melee of knees and fists. No ordinary hotel clerk, this man fought with the ferocity of a mountain lion. His eyes locked on Jessie and he growled as he struggled away from Luke.

  He hadn’t come here for him. He’d come for her.

  Luke.

  She scrambled back against the sofa as Luke clawed at the man’s knees and thrust a fork into his calf.

  The man grunted and kicked at him with his good leg. Another bright burst of blood spread across Luke’s white shirt, and his face contorted. Another kick connected with Luke’s face, and his grip weakened. The clerk shook Luke off and lunged for Jessie.

  Before she had time to think or react, he had her by the collar of the robe and shoved her, driving her toward the door, his fingers around her throat.

  She struggled against him, and something hard pressed against her thigh.

  The gun she’d never given back.

  As she was pushed toward the door, her fingers curled around the pistol. Bringing it up, she thrust the weapon into his body and pulled the trigger without taking it out of her pocket. Her eardrums contracted painfully, and she heard nothing except high-pitched ringing as she reeled backward and crashed into the wall.

  The scent of gunpowder burned her nostrils and her eyes began to water. The man’s face twisted into an expression of horror so terrible Jessie couldn’t tear her eyes away. She wanted to. Couldn’t. She looked into the eyes of the man she’d just shot, and saw fear and pain.

  And hate.

  “Fuckin’ Indian,” he mouthed. Blood seeped from the corner of his lips. He rocked back on his heels and almost fell.

  She swallowed convulsively against the vomit rising at the back of her throat and shot him again. This time, she didn’t flinch.

  His eyes rolled back in his head. He fell and lay still.

  Her stomach churned and, unable to fight any longer, Jessie doubled over and retched.

  A hand settled between on the back of her neck.

  Luke.

  Pressing a hand to her midsection, she straightened her spine.

  A faint sound reached her ears, barely audible against the ringing in her ears. Luke had just kicked the door closed. When she turned her eyes to him, she found him regarding her seriously.

  “You all right?” He took her face in his hands and turned it gently from left to right.

  She nodded. Her eyes fell to his chest, to the bright stain of blood spreading out from under his arm and across his chest, and nausea roiled in her gut. So much blood. “You?” Her voice shook.

  His breathing came short and fast, perspiration dotted his brow, and his face was pale. Blood welled up on his swollen lower lip, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. Grunting, he glanced from it to the crimson stain spreading across his shirt.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “We have to get you to a doctor.” She reached out to touch him, but he flinched away.

  “I’ll be fine.” Stepping away, he pulled some clothes out of the satchel on the bed and handed them to her. “Get dressed.”

  “What? No. You need a doctor. We need some help.”

  “Your friends from Virginia City have already found you once. We need to get out of here, and fast. Get dressed.”

  Someone knocked on the door. “Everything all right?” a man’s voice asked.

  Luke grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her so she faced him. “Answer the door. Tell him you tripped… or something.”

  “A gun just went off. I’m sure he’ll believe that.”

  His mouth was pressed into a hard slash. “Listen, I don’t care what you tell him. I don’t give a fuck what you do to convince him to leave. We don’t have time for the local sheriff to be poking his nose around in this. I’m bleeding here, so I can’t do it. Let him believe you’re some stupid girl. Smile at him, show him a little cleavage, and get him to go away.”

  “Bradshaw!” The word was spoken as an angry protest.

  “Do it.”

  Another knock at the door, and this time, Jessie heard the tinkling of keys. “Hello?”

  Luke gave her a rough push. Turning only briefly to glare at him over her shoulder, she opened the door and placed her body between the door and the entrance, blocking the view of the room. She pushed her hair back from her face in a way she hoped looked coquettish and sheepish.

  A large man with dark hair and eyes stood outside their room, dressed in the black suit of a hotel clerk. “Everything okay?”

  She gave him what she wished were an embarrassed smile, but her face was too tight, her limbs too heavy, and the smile she tried to give felt more like the baring of teeth. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Just a minor accident.”

  “Another guest reported a fight in this room. Gunshots.” He tried to peer around her.

  She shifted to block his view, and she felt Luke glaring at her back. “Oh, yeah. That.” Taking Luke’s advice, she thought of the way Vivian’s girls had dressed and acted. She allowed her robe to gape open, exposing the neckline of her undergarments. They were nothing special, but the movement seemed to distract the clerk.

  She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and bit her lip. “I was handling my husband’s gun, and it… well… it just went off.” Her eyes filled with tears that weren’t entirely disingenuous. “And I just got so scared, I knocked over a tray of food, and I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible mess.”

  “It just went off?” he echoed.

  “Yeah.” She took a long pull of air to steady her heart, and the clerk’s eyes wandered to her breasts. “But nothing seems damaged, so…”

  “I guess we’ll have to see about that.” The clerk’s eyes moved from her face to her bosom and back again. “You’ll have to let me into your room.”

  Fear shot through her already overwrought system, and gooseflesh dotted her arms. “Certainly.” She pretended not to notice the waver in her voice. “Give me about half an hour to be presentable, and I’ll get out of your
way. Maybe forty-five minutes. I can’t go out like this.”

  “No need. Let me in.”

  His eyes lingered for far too long on the line of her undergarments.

  “Not sure it would be proper.”

  “No one needs to know, sweet. You don’t have to leave your room. Unless your husband is here?” He peered over her shoulder. When she didn’t answer, he put his hand on the door above her head and shoved.

  A heavy boot stopped the door as Luke was suddenly behind her, a hulking presence at her back. He put a hand on her shoulder as if to claim her. “Yep. I’ve got this actually.” He pulled several bills off his money clip and handed them to the clerk. “This should cover any damages, plus a little extra for your time. No need to trouble yourself at all.”

  The man took the bills from Luke and pocketed them. “You need me to clean up the mess?”

  “Nope. We’ll just put the tray in the hall.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah,” Luke said. His hand shifted to her arm, and her robe gaped open a little further. The clerk’s gaze dipped and lingered, and when she glanced down, she saw the swell of her breasts and the shadow of a dark nipple beneath the thin fabric of her chemise.

  Her face flamed, but she made no move to cover herself.

  “And everything’s all right?”

  “Yep. You know women.”

  Jessie bristled, and Luke’s grip tightened on her shoulder as the hotel clerk laughed. Luke’s fingers brushed her bare shoulder, and she shivered, her nipples puckering.

  Lust flared in the clerk’s eyes, and Jessie fought the desire to pull her robe closed all the way up to her neck and take a bath.

  She swallowed both her pride and her hurt and took it.

  “Right,” the clerk said. He tweaked Jessie on the chin, and she recoiled as far back as Luke’s presence would allow. “You let the men handle the guns from now on. We wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” He nodded to Luke. “You take care now.”

  Jessie gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, and it made her face hurt.

  “Will do.” Luke shut the door. “What the fuck, Jess. ‘The gun went off?’ Why didn’t you just tell him about the corpse in the corner, too? Shit.”