by Lyn Horner
With a casual lift of his hand, the Indian leader motioned his companions to halt, while he walked his brown and white paint a few paces closer. His black gaze flicked from Del to Tye, then settled on Lil. Tye tensed and felt Lil’s sudden burst of alarm.
Del signed a greeting, and the Cheyenne shifted his haughty stare back to him. He sketched a rapid series of signs in reply.
“No. No ponies,” the trail boss said with a firm shake of his head. “Wohaw.” Raising two fingers, he indicated how many cattle he would give.
Slashing a refusal, the Indian eyed Lil again. He pointed at her and made a guttural demand that needed no translation.
Lil gasped at his boldness, and raw fury surged through Tye. Nudging his horse closer to her, he glared at the Cheyenne.
“No! She ain’t for trade,” Del barked. Not bothering with sign language, he aimed his Winchester dead center at the warrior’s fancy yellow shirt. “Get moving or eat lead.”
Mouth hard and eyes spitting hate, the Cheyenne slowly backed his mount away. His gaze lingered on Lil a few seconds. Then he wheeled and rode off with his followers.
“Damned, arrogant son-of-a-buck! We ain’t seen the last of him and his bunch,” Del said. “We’d better keep a durn close watch tonight, or we’ll lose the horses, maybe the herd too.” His gaze shifted to Lil. “I don’t want you alone for a minute, you hear me?”
“Yes, Pa,” she replied without any argument.
Ty suffered the cold fear that lay behind her surprising meekness. Glad she had enough sense to be afraid of that Indian and his friends, he silently swore he wouldn’t let her out of his sight until they were well clear of Cheyenne territory.
* * *
The second supper shift had just begun when a low, thunderous noise rolled over the prairie. It halted Lil as she left the grub line. Behind her, Tye was having his plate filled. They ate separately as a rule these days, one of them always needing to be on point, but Luis had agreed to cover for them tonight. Tye was determined to stick close to her, and Lil couldn’t stop him with her pa backing him up. She resented their protectiveness, despite recalling the Cheyenne brave’s dark gaze upon her.
“What the . . . ?” her pa muttered, fork poised over his plate. He stood eating with Dewey, Choctaw Jack, and young George Schumacher. Like Lil, he and the others turned to stare at the western horizon, where the rumbling sound came from.
“Sounds like trouble,” Jack said around a mouthful of food.
The noise grew louder. Then a wave of dark bodies swept over a distant ridge, headed right for the herd.
“Buffalo!” Dewey cried.
George uttered a choked sound, a couple of the men cussed, and Lil stared in horror at the approaching disaster. Her father dropped his plate and ran for the horses, firing off orders.
“Get mounted, men! Lil, stay here and help hitch the wagons. It could be those Cheyenne. I don’t want ’em to catch you alone. Devlin, stay with her.” Springing into his saddle, he set spurs to his horse, followed by the other men.
“I will,” Tye called after him.
“Tarnation, I’ve got a gun,” Lil protested. “I can take care of myself. I wish you and Pa would stop acting like I can’t.”
He sent her a sharp glance as he strode to help Chic hitch up his mules. “Save your breath, woman. Your father gave an order and I intend to carry it out. Now give Jubal a hand with his team.”
Lil ground her teeth, wanting to tell him she was the segundo, not him. But this was no time to argue. They had to get the wagons out of here. If her father and the men couldn’t stop those buffalo before they hit the herd, this camp would be overrun for sure.
They’d just gotten the two teams hitched up when a fearsome whoop made Lil whirl around. Three Cheyenne warriors were riding hell-bent for leather toward camp. One was the yellow-shirted devil who’d wanted to buy her. They approached from the opposite direction of the buffalo stampede, which their friends must have started as a distraction. These three had been out there waiting, watching the whole time. Watching her!
“Chic, Jubal, get moving!” she shouted. “We’ll be right behind you!”
“Lil, wait,” Tye said, grabbing her arm. “I think we should take cover and –”
“No! I’m not gonna wait here like a sitting duck.” Shaking off his hand, she dashed to her horse. She heard him mutter, but he followed her quick enough. Within seconds, they were chasing after the wagons.
A gunshot cracked behind them, and Tye let loose a curse.
“Are you hit?” Lil cried with the wind whistling in her ears. She darted a swift, sideways glance at him, but saw no blood.
“No. But the bastard nearly took off my ear.” As he replied, he drew his rifle, twisted and fired. “Damnú! Missed him.”
Lil pulled her carbine, took aim behind her, and let fly. One of their pursuers cried out and toppled off his pony.
“Nice shooting!” Tye yelled. He’d barely said it when an Indian rifle barked, and his roan shrieked and stumbled.
“Tye!” Lil screamed, sawing on her reins as his horse fell head over heels, sending up a spray of gravel and dust.
Thank God, he threw himself clear at the last second. He scrambled behind the wounded horse and urgently waved Lil on. “Keep going! It’s you they’re after, not me!”
A whimper of fear for him escaped her, but knowing he was right, she spurred her mount onward. If she drew the two Indians off, maybe they’d leave him alone. More gunfire sounded, followed by a scream. Heart thumping, she twisted to look and saw another Indian drop from his horse. Tye had shot him, but was he hit? She couldn’t tell.
The lead warrior pounded after her, edging closer, trying to ride her down.
“By damn, I’ve had enough of you!” she gritted. She started to target him; then a youthful cry pulled her gaze around to the wagons. Jubal’s had veered off from Chic’s and was out of control. Bouncing crazily from side to side over the rough terrain, it appeared ready to tip at any second. The boy could be killed.
Forgetting the Indian, Lil spurred her gelding into an extra burst of speed. She drew even with the runaway mules and leaned over to grab the checkrein. With a mighty effort, she slowed the team enough for Jubal to regain control.
“Miz Lil, look out!” he hollered, glancing past her.
She turned her head to see the Cheyenne race up beside her. He’d slung his rifle over one shoulder by a strap, and as she swung the muzzle of her carbine toward him, he wrenched it from her grasp. She snarled and grabbed for her six-shooter, but as she drew it, he snatched that away, too, and dropped it into a pouch at his waist. Quickly, he yanked the reins from her other hand, laughing at her shriek of dismay, and galloped off with her in tow.
Hands tangled in her horse’s mane, Lil clenched her knees in a command to stop. The gelding tried to obey, but gave up when the Indian jerked sharply on his lead. Desperate, Lil glanced from side to side as the ground flew past in a dusty blur. Should she jump? At this speed, she might break an arm or a leg, or worse. But wasn’t that better than letting herself be taken? She screwed up her courage and prepared to leap.
Then she heard another horse galloping hard behind her. She twisted to look and gave a joyful cry at the sight of Tye closing in atop a swift bay pony. It must have belonged to the brave he’d just killed.
“Let her go!” he roared at the Cheyenne.
Whipping her head around, Lil saw the warrior glower over his shoulder and start to take aim at Tye with her carbine.
“No!” she wailed. Stretching precariously over her horse’s neck, she got hold of one rein and yanked with all her might. The gelding lurched, the Cheyenne jerked backward, and Lil went sailing. Tye shouted her name; then the ground caught her and she saw stars.
By the time the pinpoints of color stopped bursting and she managed to open her eyes, Tye had dragged his Indian pony to a halt. Cautiously lifting her head, Lil saw that the Cheyenne had also hit the dirt. On his belly a few yards away, he raised
himself to his elbows and shook his head as if to clear it.
“Lily! Are ye hurt?” Tye cried, flinging himself off the bay. He was halfway to her when he stopped short to stare at the fallen Cheyenne. “Lil, don’t move,” he said quietly.
She glanced at the Indian again. He was up on one knee. He’d lost her carbine, but still had his rifle, and it was coming up.
“Watch out, Tye!” she cried.
Tye dove aside just in time. The Indian adjusted his aim but missed. His bullet sheered the head off a thistle and kicked up dust while Tye kept rolling. In the process, he somehow got his Colt out. The Cheyenne’s rifle roared a second time, but he missed again, by a hair this time. Tye’s six-shooter blasted, and he didn’t miss.
The warrior bucked with the bullet’s impact and gave a startled grunt. Then he toppled face first to the ground. He took a gurgling breath once, twice and went still.
Thankful Tye was still alive, Lil sat up as he climbed slowly to his feet. He stared at the dead man a moment, then holstered his gun and rushed over to her. She reached out and he pulled her to her feet. Holding her at arm’s length, he looked her over.
‘You’re not hurt?” When she shook her head, he hauled her into his arms. “Saints above, I thought for a minute I’d lost ye.”
“I thought I’d lost you,” she choked out. Beginning to shake in reaction, she buried her face in his shoulder, powerless to stop the flood of tears that poured forth, wetting his shirt. Damn! This was becoming a habit, her crying all over him.
“It’s all right, love,” he whispered, massaging her shoulders with one hand while the other pressed her firmly against him.
Reassured by his warmth and solidity, Lil quieted. And in that moment it occurred to her that being a weepy female wasn’t so bad, not when a gal had a man like him to comfort her.
“Lily, mavourneen, I think I shall never let ye go again.”
Her breath caught. She tipped her head back to gaze at him. Did he mean that? And could the emotion glowing in his blue eyes be love? She wanted to believe it was. He kissed her tenderly, and a song of joy played in her heart.
Their banked desires burst forth. Tye deepened the kiss, and Lil fervently responded. Neither took notice of the approaching wagons or the horseman who barreled to a halt nearby.
“Well, I reckon she’s all right if she can hold a lip-lock that long,” a gruff voice drawled.
Lil tore her mouth from Tye’s and caught sight of her father. He sat leaning on his saddle horn, watching them with relief and amusement on his face.
“Pa!” she cried, trying to draw away from Tye. He wouldn’t let her go. She glanced up and found him staring back at her father.
“She’s just fine, Mister Crawford,” he said.
Her father snorted. “Boy, I think maybe it’s time you start calling me Del.”
Tye grinned at Lil and winked. “’Twould be my pleasure, Del, and I’m most grateful.”
“Seems like I’m the one oughta be grateful. This makes twice now you’ve saved my daughter, Tye. Reckon I’m mighty glad you came along on the drive.”
“So am I,” Tye said, lightly stroking Lil’s arm.
Her face burned and she didn’t know where to look.
* * *
Lil opened her eyes and met Tye’s gaze across the campfire.
The crew had managed to turn the small buffalo herd, averting another cattle stampede, and Chic had set up a new camp, declaring it bad luck to return to an old one. Now, Dewey and Luis were riding bobtail guard; everyone else was asleep – except Tye and her.
She read the desire in his eyes, and her breathing speeded up. Dear God, how she wanted him!
Abruptly, he sat up. Not bothering with boots, he stepped cat-footed over to her. By then she’d pushed herself up on her elbows. He extended a hand and she took it without hesitation. This time, she didn’t fool herself about why she left camp with him.
Tye led her to the pond they’d used to water the stock. It was far enough away from camp and the night herders that they shouldn’t need to worry about being spotted.
“’Tisn’t very deep, but I think we can manage a bit of a swim.” He looked at her, eyes glittering in the starlight. “I’ll not come to ye filthy as I am. So, if ye wish it . . . ?”
He was giving her a chance to say no, just as he had last time, but she wasn’t about to turn him away. “I’m not too clean either,” she said. Suddenly feeling giddy as a young girl, she pulled out her shirttails and started to pop open buttons. “Last one in is a lazy mutton puncher!”
He laughed. “Now how can I pass up a challenge like that?”
Swiftly disrobing, Lil stole a glance at Tye as he stepped out of his britches. The sight of his hard arousal brought a burst of damp need to her loins and made her tremble. He caught her gaze and took a step toward her, but she spun away.
“You’re too slow!” she taunted, running for the water. The sooner they cleaned up, the sooner he’d be inside her, she thought, stunned by her own eagerness.
“We’ll see about that, my fine maiden,” he growled.
She cleaved the glassy pool seconds ahead of him and came up laughing in victory. He grinned and splashed her in the face, then dove under. She gasped, spat water and waited. When he surfaced at last, she returned the favor, and he ducked away coughing.
Unable to smother a giggle, she waded close. “You all right? I didn’t mean to choke you to death.” She lay a hand on his arm, delighting in the feel of warm, slippery skin over flexed muscle, and reached to push wet hair out of his eyes. Blue-black, it set off the moon washed paleness of his face.
“I couldn’t he better,” he murmured, catching her by the waist and drawing her to him.
Crisp chest hair brushed her sensitive nipples and his erection pressed into her belly, feeling hot even in the cool water. Her insides quaked as his head dipped toward her. She closed her eyes, lips parted in anticipation.
His kiss was gentle, almost reverent. In her head she once more heard him say ‘I shall never let ye go again.’ Surely the sweetest words she’d ever heard.
Molding her body to his, she opened her mouth, and his tongue explored every moist nook and cranny. She did the same to him, and he groaned. Her hands mapped his chest and broad shoulders, finding scars from the panther’s claws. Were they still sensitive? she wondered, hands prowling around to his back and down over his lean buttocks. Was she being too bold? She couldn’t help it, couldn’t get enough of touching him. He was so wonderfully hard and male. And he was hers!
He kissed her forehead, cheeks and eyes, then returned to her mouth while one hand splayed across the small of her back and the other skated lightly down her throat. His fingers glided along her collarbone and caressed the top swell of her breasts. She arched her back, and he brushed his palm back and forth across one pointed crown, then the other, causing her to moan softly. Then he lifted his mouth from hers.
“Lily, since the day we met I’ve dreamed of what I longed to do that day, how I wanted to strip away the muddy clothes and wash ye clean. And then I pictured ye floating in the creek with your hair spread about ye and your lovely body aglow in the water. At times, that image has saved me from black despair.” He traced the bridge of her nose with his forefinger and chuckled wryly. “But it has also driven me mad.”
She captured his hand, kissed the palm, and pressed it to her cheek. “I was so furious at you that day, it’s a wonder I didn’t shoot you. But I couldn’t get you out of my head later. You’ve driven me mad too.”
Groaning, he claimed her mouth for another feverish moment. Then he broke off to whisper against her lips, “Let me see ye the way I imagined ye, love. Right now, aye?”
Lil caught her breath and leaned back to stare at him.
He grinned wickedly. “I promise I won’t let ye drown.”
Dark excitement coursed through her. Without saying a word, she lay back in the water, her gaze glued to his. She found it hard to relax with him watching he
r every move. But his arm dipped underwater to support her back, and then she was afloat with water lapping softly around her. It filled her ears, muffling his words, but she still heard the awe in his voice.
“Mother of God! I envisioned ye all golden from the sun, but now, in the night, ye shine like silver. You’re a creature of magic, a faery maid as I called ye that day.”
If so, he was the magician, Lil thought. Caught in his spell, she closed her eyes when he touched her.
From the column of her throat, his hand ran whisper-soft down her body, and pleasure hummed through her from head to toe. Water rippled around his hand, adding to the sensation. A sigh of delight rose from her lips.
His arm lifted her until her breasts jutted out of the water, and his warm mouth came down to play upon her water-cooled flesh. When he began to lick droplets away, she felt as if she were being consumed by his hot tongue. He took an eager nipple into his mouth and drew firmly upon it. The resultant contraction deep inside her made Lil jerk and bite down hard on her lip to keep from shrieking. If not for Tye’s support, she would have sunk under the water.
While he suckled her breasts, his free hand migrated over belly, hip and thigh, then back up her side. The third trip over this route, he detoured between her legs, gliding upward, teasing her with little delays. She moaned and dug the fingers of one hand into his back while the other curled and uncurled in the water. At last, he ended the torment, stroking her eager softness.
The cool water against her overheated flesh, his knowing touch, his hungry mouth at her breast – it was all too much. Lil couldn’t prevent the cry that burst from her lips.
Quickly, he muffled her sounds with his mouth, but his stroking fingers never paused. She clutched his head and writhed in the water, trying to curl around him, desperate for an end to the sweet torture. His arm held her tight, his lips and tongue plied her mouth, and his hand . . . oh, his hand!
Desire pounded through her blood until, at last, the stampede broke in a swirling vortex of pleasure. Before the spasms fully subsided, Tye lifted and turned her against him.