“He killed my brother, Tim—shot him dead in the street, like he meant nothing. Well, he meant something to me. He was my best friend, my only friend, the only man who ever loved me,” she whispered, pressing the rolled-up map to her chest. Tim watched as she swallowed, then blinked, stoically fighting back tears she should have cried months ago.
She couldn’t be right…she wasn’t right. Joe wasn’t the only man who loved her… He shook himself, pressing his lips together before he could speak his heart aloud.
“Joanna…why don’t you go to your room, get some rest,” he finally said, moving around the desk to throw his good arm over her shoulders in a gesture meant to comfort. The urge to pull her into him was strong, but so was the urge to keep her safe. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her lips slightly parted.
So close… Everything in him said to kiss her, take her lips and taste her again. To ease the need strangling him.
“Tim,” she murmured, her gold gaze dropping to his mouth, her soft pink tongue shooting out to wet her lips.
He groaned. “Joanna…I can’t—”
He couldn’t finish his plea before she pushed up on her tip toes and pressed her lips against his. Lightning flashed inside him, thunder boomed in his ears, and the earth shifted beneath his feet. Moaning, Joanna threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down. Caught off guard, Tim stumbled back into the desk, hitting it with his hip. He steadied himself just in time for Joanna to press in closer.
Heaven. He was in heaven. Joanna’s warmth filled him, moving through him where her chest touched his. Her gentle curves, well hidden beneath her flowing dress, were a revelation. He placed a hand on her waist, his thumb pressing into her belly, his fingers finding the hollow in her lower back. Lord, but she was perfectly made.
Mine, a deep voice growled in his mind. He pulled Joanna even closer, until he could feel her heart pounding in time to his. He tipped his head to get a better angle, then did as he’d wanted to only a few minutes before. He pulled back just enough to take Joanna’s bottom lip between his teeth. He nipped it, and the full, kiss swollen flesh gave just a bit. Her intake of breath stole his, and he pressed a kiss to her lip to soothe any pain. She felt so good against him, much too good.
Now’s not the time.
He groaned again, then pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers and they two sucked in ragged breaths. He closed his eyes to block out the vision of Joanna, her face flushed, his lips swollen from his attention, her gaze hazy. She had the look of a woman well loved.
Clearing his throat, he huffed, “Joanna, you need to rest, and I need to change this bandage.” He had to do something, anything to get away from her—far enough away from her to think clearly. There’s nowhere on earth far enough away for that.
She blinked up at him, the haze clearing from her eyes to reveal shock. She jerked away from him. Her right had shot to her mouth where he’d bit her, and her other hand flew to her head, as if trying to unscramble it. “You’re right. I need rest,” she said, her voice husky. She turned from him and walked to the door; the map in one hand. She stopped just inside the doorway and looked over her shoulder at him. “Meet me in the conservatory after dinner. We’ll make our plan then.”
She disappeared through the door before he could speak again, which was just as well. With the emotions thrumming through him, and his body on fire, he didn’t know if he could form a single word.
Chapter Nineteen
The sun set behind the northern hills, the warm breeze from the day slowly turning cold. JoJo tied Billie to the lower limb of an oak, and waited for Tim to dismount, which he did quite easily, considering he was still nursing an injured shoulder. Though, he hadn’t worn the sling on their ride into the hills.
“What happened to your sling?” she asked, suddenly realizing how much better, handsomer, he looked without the swathe of white linen hiding part of his chest and all of one arm. Like this, unencumbered by the sling, he almost looked as if he could handle himself in a fight. Not that she doubted he could—he was strong and capable, at least he looked it—but he didn’t seem the kind of man to come to blows with another man. He seemed too…gentle.
But I like that about him, she thought before she could stop it. She didn’t have time to like anyone, especially someone like Timothy Hanlon. He’d been against her plan from the start, he’d even been tasked with keeping her in the house. And he kissed like a man starved.
Heat built in her belly, banking the fire that had only just begun to die down.
After their encounter in Uncle Thomas’s office, she’d run to her room like a wounded deer gone to ground. Their kiss…it stole something from her. Something she was sure she’d never get back. And she didn’t know if it really mattered. A kiss was a kiss, right? Did it matter that Tim was the one that gave it to her? Did it matter that even now, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, about his firm yet soft lips pressing against hers, about his strong hand spanning her waist, and sending delicious tremors up her spine? Did it matter that she’d never felt so alive, so full of warmth and energy? In that moment, in Tim’s arms, crushed against his chest, she’d felt beautiful. She’d felt…wanted.
And it was the most intoxicating feeling she’d ever known. She’d give anything to feel that way again. But what did that mean?
“I told you I had to change the bandage,” he answered her question, plucking her from her much too dangerous thoughts. “I thought that since we were sneaking about, a sling would slow me down. Also…” he paused, reaching into his saddle bag and pulling out a small derringer. “I couldn’t use this if my arm was in a sling, now could I?” He smirked, and she nearly growled in response.
“Do you even know how to use one of those?” she hissed, anger flaring to combat the heat of something else entirely.
He cocked an eyebrow at her and his mouth spread into a slow, lopsided smile that nearly pushed her anger aside.
Focus. Don’t let his charms distract you.
“I’m serious, Tim. If you don’t know how to use one, you could end up—”
“Shooting someone?” he finished for her, his other eyebrow raised over eyes glimmering with mirth.
He was laughing at her, the snake!
“You keep looking at me like that, I’ll do it again,” she purred, lifting her own lip in a cocky grin.
Though the last bits of fire-red sunlight were disappearing over the horizon, she could just make out the glint of something hard and dark in his blue eyes. Heavens, but when he looked at her like that, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to breathe again.
“Who gave that to you, anyway?” she asked, eager to put her mind on something other than Tim’s mouth or body.
“Aunt Melda.”
Surprised, JoJo replied, “I didn’t even know she owned a gun. Why did she give it you?”
He shrugged, a simple gesture, meant to convey indifference, but on him, it looked like a practiced move to bring attention to the width of his shoulders.
Dragging her thoughts back to the conversation, JoJo muttered, “Make sure you don’t shoot yourself with it.”
He chuckled, the sound thrumming through her. “I’ll leave that to you, Joanna.”
She clicked her tongue and turned away from him, casting her glance to the small space between the large boulder on their right and the oak tree where the horses were tied to their left.
“According to the map, the claim should be just up the ridge.” She stepped to the boulder and craned her neck. “Yeah, I think I see it there—” She pointed to a small outcropping of rocks, which seemed just large enough to hide a stolen mule and whatever else Uncle Thomas and Dalton Hess were sneaking away up there.
She turned back to see where Tim was, and she nearly smacked her nose against his chest. She gasped and stumbled back, her hind end hitting the boulder behind her hard.
“Oomf. What’re you doing, sneaking up on me like that? I could have shot you!” she exclaimed,
more unnerved by his closeness than about the silence of his approach.
He chuckled again, his warm breath exploding from his chest and brushing against her cheeks. He smelled of saddles, linen, and aftershave. “You keep threatening to shoot me, I just might have to do something about it.” His deep voice came out in a luscious rumble that sent licks of pleasure through her blood.
“Like what, kiss me?” she blurted, and immediately regretted it. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she could feel her eyes widening. Lord, but she’d gone and made a fool of herself. Again.
When will I learn to keep my danged mouth shut?
Tim didn’t say a word, only leaned in until his mouth was inches from hers. She held her breath, torn between wishing he’d kiss her again, and wanting to push him away. The urge to lean forward was strong, but by some miracle she remained still, just watching the man before her gaze down at her with such heat in his eyes, it could have rivaled the fires of hell.
I am in hell…only this devil looks a lot like a man she could fall for.
“Why didn’t you come down for dinner?” he finally asked, and the question made JoJo blink twice before it sank into her desire-logged brain.
“What?”
He pulled back, peering down at her from a deeply shadowed face. She couldn’t read his expressions; was he angry at her?
“Why didn’t you come down for dinner?” he asked again.
She lifted one shoulder then slid a hand into the pocket of the trousers she’d decided to wear instead of her skirts. It was easier to slink around in the dark when you weren’t worried about catching your hem on a bush. “I was more tired than I thought?” she lied. She hadn’t been tired at all. The moment she’d fled to her room, her thoughts were on Tim, their need to plan for their clandestine mission, and whether or not she was going to hell for throwing herself at a man. A wounded man. A man she’d wounded! “At least I came down to the conservatory.”
He grunted. “Aunt Melda was worried about you… I was worried about you.” Those words poked a hole in her heart, but she didn’t dare wonder at what trickled out.
“I came down to help us plan, didn’t I?”
When he didn’t reply, she heaved a sigh. “There’s no need to worry about me, Tim. I just need you to help me catch Dalton Hess, then I’ll be fine. Then I can get back to my life.”
Tim let out a slow breath. “What will that look like?”
She hadn’t expected that question. “What do you mean? I’ll go back to Shawnee, back to my life—the life I had before Joe was killed.”
“Is that possible?” he asked, softly. “Will your life ever be the same again?” She knew he wasn’t asking only about her life without her brother. He was asking about her life without him. A strange pain pinched her chest, and her breath caught.
What would life look like without Tim in it?
Cold, empty, sad… She’d never get to see his smile, hear his laughter, smell his scent…taste his kisses. The pain in her chest grew into an ache that rose into her throat.
JoJo swallowed down the answer her heart was screaming into her soul, and instead muttered, “Yes.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” he challenged, his voice heavy with meaning. What was he getting at?
“I don’t care if you believe me or not.” She threw her hands into the air and turned back to face the ridge overhead. “We need to get going. It’s dark enough now.” She started forward, checking the holster under her loose-fitted shirt to be sure the gun was there. She hoped she wouldn’t need it, but she knew from experience that danger could come out of nowhere. Just like in the alley that night Hess almost killed her.
She shuddered at the memory, just barely keeping her hand from flying to her throat. It was still sore, but at least Hess’s fingers didn’t leave a lasting mark, at least one high collars wouldn’t hide.
She could hear Tim following behind her, his breathing slow, even, and comforting. Since when did Tim’s breaths make her feel safe? Maybe it was because she knew she had someone at her back who truly cared about her. She’d only known the man for less than a week, but in that time, he’d shown her more care and consideration than any man she’d known—even her own brother. Sure, Joe loved her, but he’d never been as warm and thoughtful as Tim. And she sure as heck had never kissed her brother like she kissed Tim. She’d never kissed any man like she’d kissed Tim.
They walked in silence for what felt like hours, but soon enough, they came upon a break in the foliage where a well-trodden path appeared.
She held up her hand to halt Tim and whispered over her shoulder, “This is where they come through.”
JoJo felt Tim come closer, his chest nearly touching her back, the heat of him pouring into her.
“I think I see light,” he whispered back. She could make out his arm in the twilight and looked to where he pointed. Up the path rising into the hills, was a small light.
“Probably a lantern at the mine entrance,” she said, hoping she was right. If she was right, it meant the men were there. And that meant she could see, with her own eyes, what was going on. It would either confirm what they thought, or it would bring to light something else—maybe something even more sinister. She wouldn’t put anything past a man like Dalton Hess.
Taking a deep breath, JoJo crouched low, her hand on her gun, the other out in front of her to move any brush or loose rocks out of the path.
Silent, slow…can’t get caught. She stepped out onto the path and moved along it, her booted feet quiet, her breaths ragged, her heart pounding in her ears. Lord, she hoped those men couldn’t hear it.
Tim didn’t make a pip of noise behind her, and she was grateful for that. She knew he was still there, though, because she could feel him…in her bones. Like her marrow—a vital piece of her.
As the bright, silvery moon rose over the top of the mountain, JoJo and Tim came to a grouping of elderberry bushes right before the end of the path. Slipping behind them, careful not to snag her shirt or hair, she squatted and peered over the brush to the large clearing right before the mouth of the mine. There was a lantern; it was hanging on a hook right above the entrance. About ten feet away, just outside the lantern light was a mule hitched to a mining cart. From where she was hiding, she couldn’t tell if the cart was full or empty.
She turned to Tim, who was squatting beside her. “There’s Clyde’s mule.”
He nodded. “I bet the missing pick axes are in there,” he said, tipping his head toward the mine.
“What about the maps? What did they show Uncle Thomas that would help him steal the gold from Olyphant’s mine?”
The snap of a twig and the crunch of a boot brought JoJo around quick.
“Why don’t you just ask me, if you’re so curious?”
Uncle Thomas slunk out of the shadows to their left, followed by Beauford, then a man she didn’t recognize, and then the man she’d come over one thousand miles to destroy—Dalton Hess. Her brother’s murderer. They’d been hiding behind an outcropping of rocks, lying in wait for them.
The truth and horror of their situation dawned on her just as Dalton Hess stepped forward, pointing the loud end of a pistol at her.
She’d led them into a trap.
Chapter Twenty
It was dark, so dark he couldn’t see the tip of his nose. He didn’t know how far into the mine Hess and his men had dragged them, but he did know they didn’t plan for them to survive their trip down into the depths of the earth. The Wheeler Stake would be their tomb.
Because of the dark, he couldn’t tell how much time had passed, the inkiness and the chill of the mine playing tricks on his mind. Had it been five minutes or fifteen since Beauford and Hess tossed he and Joanna into a shallow pit at the end of a tunnel? He’d be a fool to think those men would ever come back for them, so it was up to him to get Joanna out. To save her.
But how? Hess had done a dang good job of tying his hands behind his back. Joanna fared no better, except they were a littl
e rougher with her…because she fought like a hellcat when Hess put his hand on her. Lord, but he’d seen red then, pulling against his binds to free his hands, just so he could get his fingers around Hess’s throat. Around Uncle Thomas’s throat. The man had stood there, watching as his own flesh and blood was tied like a wild hog and led down to his death.
Ma will never let me hear the end of this. She warned me about Uncle Thomas, she told me he couldn’t be trusted, that he was more interested in the worth of his things than the life of his family.
Tim groaned and leaned his head back, the rock wall behind him as cold as ice.
Joanna hadn’t said a word since Hess walked up the tunnel with the lantern, leaving them behind in the pitch blackness.
“Joanna?” he called, his words swallowed up by the darkness. He shifted to listen, praying she was okay, that she was just deep in thought, trying to clever her way out of this.
He called again. She didn’t answer.
Panic rose to slam against the anger already boiling in his gut. “Joanna, answer me!”
There was a scratching noise, then the sound of something shuffling along the hard floor.
“I’m here, stop shouting,” she hissed. “The last thing we need is for you to yowl down rocks on our heads.”
Tim groaned, partly in relief, and partly because her words only heightened his fear. He didn’t think the old tunnel would collapse on them, but that wouldn’t matter. With them both tied, in the deep dark, down a maze of tunnels, they were going to die of starvation. A slow, painful death.
He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her. Her presence, just the warmth of her, seeped into him, pushing out the chill that had taken up residence there.
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