“Bob.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“You look very familiar to me.”
Tom frowned, set the bags down, and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out the poster, and Ida saw that the award had gone up by $500. The picture was an incredible likeness. There was no doubt.
“It’s you…”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate,” Kelly said coolly.
Tom grabbed Ida’s arm and pulled her toward the door. Kelly started towards them, but Ida caught his eye and shook her head. “What, Tom?”
“He’s wanted for murder.”
“I know.”
“You know? You know? Then what the hell is he doing living in your house?”
“It’s complicated…”
Tom held up the poster angrily. “He’s a fugitive, Ida. He’s dangerous.”
“He’s not,” she said hotly.
“If you don’t turn him in, I will.” Tom stormed out of the house, Ida following right behind him. Kelly stayed rooted to the spot, as though knowing that if he went outside, he’d be wanted for another murder.
“Tom, wait!”
“What?”
“Please, don’t…”
“What are you thinking? And you’re married. I thought I knew you.”
“I just found him, shot, dying. I nursed him back to health, that’s all.”
“Is that the story you’re going to use on your husband?”
“It’s not a story. Tom…”
“I’m serious Ida. If you don’t turn him in by next week, I’ll…I’ll take care of it.” Tom took the rest of her mail out of his pocket and dropped it on the snow. She ignored it, and kept her eyes trained on Tom. He climbed up on the wagon and picked up the reins. She watched him until he was out of sight, then she bent and picked up the scattered envelopes with numb fingers.
Ida stumbled through the snow and into the house. She knew what she had to do, knew what he had to do. It hurt to think about it , but she never shied away from what had to be done before. She wouldn’t start now.
“You have to go,” Ida said softly. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, her legs weak.
“No,” Kelly answered simply.
“No? I know you heard him…”
“I told you once. I won’t leave you. Now or ever.”
Ida straightened. “Now isn’t the time for that. You have to go.”
“No.”
Ida took a deep breath. Inside she felt like screaming and crying. She felt like shouting and stomping her feet and yelling. Instead, she set her mouth in a firm line of determination and clutched her hands at her side. “I’m not asking, I’m telling. You will leave.”
“I don’t take my marching orders from you,” Kelly said coolly.
“Are you being intentionally stupid?”
“Stupid?”
“Yes! Stupid! Jesus Christ, Kelly. You have to leave.”
Kelly looked at her sadly. He looked as miserable as she felt. “I can’t,” he whispered.
“I can’t watch you die, Kelly. Which is exactly what will happen if they catch you here. They’ll shoot you right in front of me, or they’ll arrest you and hang you in the center of town.” Her voice hitched on the last word, and she swallowed hard to stop the sob from escaping.
“We’re snowed in…” Kelly tried desperately.
Ida shook her head. “You’ll have to risk it. You have to risk it, Kelly. You can’t just sit here and wait for them to come to you.”
Kelly walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close against his body. She rested her head against his chest, and her warm tears fell on his skin. He didn’t say anything, just held her and stroked her hair. They both knew she was right.
“Do I have to go right now?” he finally asked.
“Soon. I’ll…I’ll get some food and supplies together. You can take Flash.”
“I can’t do that…”
“Yes, you can.”
“He’s your only transportation.”
She sniffed loudly and lifted her head. The tears were already dry, and she was ready to get down to business. “I can get another horse. Besides, Flash is fast and steady on his feet…he’ll…he’ll take care of you. Do you know where you’d go?”
Kelly shrugged. “It’ll be dangerous, but the only thing I can think is to head south until I get out of the snow, and then go west.”
“To California?”
Kelly nodded. “Yeah…I can find a place to hide, lay low.”
“Okay, well…I’ll get started on the supplies.”
She stepped away from him and moved towards the bed. She opened the chest and pulled out several of her best, warm shirts. Kelly watched as she stacked them on the bed, then reached to the bottom of the chest and grabbed a handful of wool socks. He didn’t make a move to help her, and she didn’t mind. She’d be strong enough to get both of them through this, if it meant keeping him alive.
“How much food should I pack?” she asked.
“As much as I can carry, I guess.”
Ida nodded. Before she moved to the food stores, she opened her sewing bag and pulled out two needles and a spool of thread. “You should always have a needle and thread.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
She pulled out two pieces of paper and two envelopes from her basket and slid them between the shirts. “I don’t have a spare pencil,” she said, apologetically.
“That’s fine.”
“He said a week, but he could be getting people together right now,” she said, almost to herself.
“I’m not leaving today.”
“You need to get a good head start…”
“Ida, pet…I’m going to have one more night with you at least.”
“It’s not worth-”
“Yes. It is.”
Ida looked at him and bit her lip. Her survival instinct had kicked in, and she wouldn’t appreciate anything that messed up her plans to get him out safe and sound. He would have to understand that.
“What if I never see you again?” He asked softly.
She shook her head firmly. “You will see me again. I’m not going to stay here. I’ll find you.”
“I appreciate your…determination, Ida. But anything could happen and…”
“I may not be able to follow you immediately, or even soon. But I will find you.”
“Promise me you’ll wait until spring at least. I don’t want you getting caught in the snow…”
Ida couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was absolutely, totally insane. She couldn’t even believe some of the things coming out of her mouth, but it was the only way. “I don’t want to wait until spring.”
“I know you don’t, but there’s no reason for both of us to be risking our lives. No reason for both of us to get frost bite and starve.”
Ida sank to the bed. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said, lifelessly. “I’ll wait. Where will you be? San Francisco?”
“No, I’ll stay south. Los Angeles.”
“What’s there? Mines?”
“Cows.”
“Oh.”
“Can you hand me your saddle bags?”
Kelly started. “Where are they?”
She pointed to the corner. “You never asked for them…I forgot they were there.”
“There’s not going to be any room for clothes and supplies in my bags, pet.”
“Why not?”
He walked over to the corner and bent down to open the bags. When he straightened, he was holding a handful of money. “Robbed a bank, remember?”
“Right, of course. How could I forget?”
“You keep it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Fine, keep half; I’ll take the other half. That’ll give me enough room for a few things at least.”
“I have another set of bags you can use,” Ida offered.
“You’ll ne
ed them.”
“I’ll buy more with the stolen money you are so thoughtfully leaving with me.”
Kelly nodded. “Should be enough to get a decent horse, too.”
They looked at each other for several seconds, neither speaking. Finally, Kelly pulled several stacks of bills out of the leather pouch and set them on the table. “Find a decent place to hide the money, yeah?”
“I know a place.”
Kelly’s smile seemed forced. Obviously, he wasn’t nearly the optimist she was.
“We’ll set up a nice cattle ranch in California. Make our fortune in leather.”
“Whatever sounds good to you.”
“What sounds good to you?”
“You not dying.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Kelly dropped the leather bags and the money. “I expect you to.”
He walked over to the bed and stood in front of her. She reached out to him, grabbing his hand, and pulled him closer. He dropped to his knees and rested his head in her lap.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered.
“I can’t help it.”
“I’ll be fine.” She ran her fingers through his hair gently.
“Of course you will be.” His voice was muffled against her leg. “I know you’ll be fine. You’re the…I’ve never known anybody like you, Ida.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Kelly lifted his head. “For what?”
She shrugged. “This entire mess.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry for. You saved my life. Unless you’re sorry you saved my life.”
“No, I’ll never be sorry for that.”
Kelly gently put his hand on the back of her head and guided her lips to his. He tasted bittersweet to her, with just a hint of salt. He tried to assure her it would be all right, but his kiss was too desperate, too needy and afraid. He kissed her like he truly believed it was the last time, and she responded in kind, grabbing his arms and holding him as tightly as she could.
The thought of letting him go was just a crazy fantasy. She didn’t think she could do it in the end. But as he plundered her mouth, growing increasingly frantic, the horrible image of his dead body, shot or hung, loomed in her mind, and she knew she would push him out the door and tie him in the saddle herself if she had to. Even if she never saw him again, she would not allow him to join the ranks of the lifeless men that paraded through her sleep every night. She would save him because she needed to and she loved him and because she never could save anybody else.
Chapter Eighteen
Kelly crashed to the floor with Ida on top of him. He fell hard on the packed earth, and pain echoed down his back, but he ignored it. Ida writhed and wiggled on top of him, trying to work her wet pants down her thighs without using her hands. Said hands were busy working on Kelly’s pants. His fingers were numb and uncooperative.
Kelly kicked and shifted his hips, making Ida lose her balance. She fell to his side, still struggling with her pants even as she hit the floor. The wet material clung to her skin, and she was almost sobbing with frustration. Her mouth distracted Kelly, and he found her lips, ignoring the stubborn pants that wouldn’t go down past his thighs.
He grabbed the back of her hair, holding her in place, and curling his fingers in the soft tresses. He didn’t mean to pull on it, but he gripped it tighter as the kiss deepened and it made her moan, but only partly in protest. He ignored it, didn’t break the kiss or his hold on her. She kicked her legs, hitting him and the bed in the process, but eventually, she worked the pants to her ankles, and then off completely.
Kelly rolled over and rose above her on his hands and knees. He took her mouth again, kissing her fiercely and forcing one knee between her thighs. She spread her legs open for him willingly, then reached down to finish undressing him. He tipped her head back and attacked her neck with his tongue and teeth, ravaging the soft flesh, pawing at her shirt. The buttons broke free beneath his fingers before he tore it off thoughtlessly.
Ida arched her back and tilted her head, moaning softly in encouragement. She scraped her fingernails down his back, up his ribs, leaving deep red trails. She shrugged her shirt off to give Kelly better access, and jerked beneath his body. She pushed her crotch against his naked thigh, and rocked against his leg.
Kelly covered her neck and chest in dark love bites, and bruised her skin with the force of his passion. She didn’t protest. Instead, she arched her back even higher, nearly lifting her entire body off the floor. She wound her arms around his neck, holding him against her so he couldn’t move away, couldn’t stop. She jerked her hips faster, rotated hard against him, and built on the tension and friction. He sucked on her nipple, and she caught her breath.
“Kelly…” His name rushed out of her like a sigh. He lost interest in biting her, and left big, wet kisses all over her, sucking on her skin gently. He rocked against her harder, the friction increasing.
*
The orgasm surprised Ida. She stiffened against Kelly, holding him tightly. He slid one arm beneath her back and supported her to keep her from falling back to the floor. She gasped hard, her breath caught in her throat, and she couldn’t do anything but hold onto him and shiver as her body convulsed.
When she stopped shaking, he gently lowered her to the floor. She expected him to position himself between her legs, but he didn’t move immediately. Instead, he gently kissed each of the marks he left on her skin. She trembled beneath him, from the gentleness and the cold that was sneaking into the cabin and across the floor.
Kelly traced each fading mark with his lips and tongue. He licked and lapped and nearly lulled her pleasure soaked body to sleep. He started rocking her again, rubbing her wet pussy against his leg, keeping the rhythm soft and slow. The tone, the whole experience, shifted within seconds. The ravenous encounter slowed to something sweet, restrained, calm. Now Ida ran the palms of her hands down his back, soothing away the red lines and exploring his shifting and tense muscles.
Kelly surprised her by wrapping both his arms around her tightly, and then rising to his feet, bringing her with him. He held her off the ground by just a few inches, spun around, and placed her on the bed. She immediately reached for him again, pulling him on top of her, opening her legs, folding them around him.
*
On the bed, Ida was laying directly in the late afternoon light. Kelly got a good look at her in the dimming sun, could see each little bruise and bite clearly. He paused and considered what he had done, even as she started to moan and move beneath him, trying to get his attention. He grabbed her wrists and held them above her head with one hand, and then began a gentle exploration of her upper-body with his fingertip.
He traced her ear, her hairline, the gentle slope of her eyebrows. He ran his finger lightly down the bridge of her nose and around her eyes, under her cheekbones. He brushed the honey softness of her lips, caressed her chin, then continued the journey down her neck. He rested his fingers against her pulse, and as he felt the hammering of her heart against his hand, he leaned forward and kissed her gently, his tongue brushing against her lips as his fingers had.
Beneath his finger, her pulse increased. It was silent in the cabin, except for their ragged, inconsistent breathing. With their lips sealed together, he could almost hear the steady beat of her heart and it matched his.
The tip of his hard cock grazed against her soft, wet lips, and she jerked beneath him. She looked at him, her eyes both clear and hazy, bright, shining with lust, but heavy-lidded. She tightened her legs around him, squeezing him, pulling him closer. He thrust into her and his body nearly sang with relief.
Kelly wanted to move as slowly as possible. He wanted to prolong the whole experience. He wanted to be buried inside of her for an eternity, feel her hot, strong muscles clenching him until he was weak. He wanted to slide in and out of her a hundred, a thousand times. He wanted to kiss every square inch of her, commit the memory of her skin to
his mouth. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and tangle it in his fist. He wanted to cup her breasts and hold them in the palm of his hands like precious treasures. He didn’t want to let her go because when he did…
When he did it would be forever. He felt this with a certainty that weighed in his heart like a guilty conscience. He would let her go, let her slip away, and he would slip away in the great unknown, and whatever fate that led him to her door would be gone, asleep, dead. She would kick him out for his own good because she wouldn’t understand it was really for her sake and he’d rather die from a million bullet wounds than leave her, than live in the cold world without her stunning heat, brilliant light.
Kelly didn’t go faster. His body was screaming and begging for a good hard fuck, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t move against her faster. All he could do was hold her and hope that he would be able to hold onto her because he was losing it and losing her and losing his grip and losing his mind, and the dull pain from her frantic passion still clung to his body and he focused on it because if he focused on what she was doing to him and if he didn’t concentrate on the pain he would feel the real pain because she would make him leave make him go to save himself couldn’t let himself be carried away from her into a dark world away from her into prison away from her to the gallows.
The only sign that her thoughts echoed his was the way her fingernails dug into the soft skin of his back. He didn’t wince or pull away, even when she pressed so hard that she drew crescent moons of blood.
But the tension, and the friction, and the pressure, and the passion, and the lust and desire and need and love got him. It always did. In the end it wasn’t about what he wanted or needed, not what his mind or brain wanted. It was the blood and the flesh that was weak and though he screamed on the inside to slow down, to make it last, to tie himself to her so she would never push him out, it didn’t work. She must have seen it reflected in his face and because she let go of her carefully held emotions, let go of the final moans and screams, let go of herself and handed over her body and he took it, he took it all and he tensed and he clutched the bed and braced himself and exploded in tears and come, blood bursting in his heart.
He didn’t move off her or out of her. He collapsed on top of her and counted each breath and each heartbeat until she stopped trembling, and then he counted more as he waited for the tremors in his body to subside. They didn’t, though, and he realized he was trying to cry. Emotionally exhausted and scared and he wouldn’t admit it. He took a deep, shuddering breath. He counted to ten, sniffed, rolled his shoulders, and sat up.
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