by Lily Graison
She knew this was her only chance to have him and threw caution to the wind, raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. He groaned, his hold on her tightening and she savored the wanton abandon, took charge, and kissed him back like her world was ending. She forced her tongue into his mouth, tasted the pure wickedness she’d thought about since he first kissed her and took what she wanted from him, held him to her and was breathless by the time he pulled away and looked down at her.
They were both panting for breath, staring each other in the eye and it wasn’t until Sarah heard someone giggle that she realized they were still on the street, outside the General Store, in each other’s arms in broad daylight. The fact she’d been kissing him for the entire world to see registered a moment later and she pulled away, took two steps back and looked at everyone stopped on the street watching them.
She was mortified. How could she have been so wanton in public? What would her father say? What would William say? Looking at Colt’s face, she didn’t want to care but one glance at those still gawking at her and her face burned hot, her chest tightened until she could barely breath and she clutched a hand to her heart.
Turning without a word said, she walked back to the stagecoach station, ignoring those watching her as she passed them and toning out Colt when he shouted her name. Fear that he’d follow her again, and cause another scene that should remain private, she picked up her skirts and ran. She didn’t stop until she reached the dressmakers shop, running through the door and straight to the back dressing room and pulling the curtain closed behind her.
In the darkness of that small room, she leaned against the wall, tried to catch her breath, and blinked away tears. One exhilarating, lustful moment and Sarah knew she’d spend the rest of her life wanting one more moment of it. It wasn’t the act that filled her with excitement, but the man who did what he wanted, said what he pleased, and took what he desired. And what he wanted was her, but for what exactly? Just to bed her? To keep forever?
The tears she’d been blinking away gathered and slipped from her eyes as that annoying voice in the back of her head told her, no, that it wasn’t forever. He just wanted what he couldn’t have. Colton Avery wasn’t the keeping kind, he’d said as much himself. So why did her foolish heart beg her to try and change his mind?
Chapter Seven
“Is every thing all right?”
Sarah wiped her face dry when the dressmaker called to her through the curtain. “Yes.” Parting the fabric, she smiled at the woman. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over me. I do apologize.”
Exiting the store in a rush, Sarah stepped onto the sidewalk and immediately looked toward the General store where she’d left Colt standing. He was gone. Her heart sank with the realization.
Searching the street for him, the ache in her chest grew when she finally caught sight of him. He was on the other end of town, on the back of his horse, riding away. Riding away from her. The tears she’d thought she’d gotten rid of burned the back of her eyes again and she forced them away. There was no use crying over things she couldn’t change. Colt was leaving and so was she. The stagecoach would be rolling into town any minute now and once she was on it, she’d never cross Colt’s path again.
Sighing, Sarah walked back to the station and retook the seat on the bench she’d abandoned earlier. Long minutes ticked by, her thoughts a constant whirl around Colt. She wondered how far away his home was, what he’d do once he reached it and if he’d ever think of her again.
Contemplating those questions didn’t last as the stagecoach finally made its appearance. The squeak of the wheels, the clip-clap of the horses’ hooves as they ran into town and the dust cloud following in their wake seemed to stir the entire town. People everywhere scrambled to clear the street and it wasn’t until the stagecoach had stopped and the dust settled that Sarah noticed what else came in behind the stage. Riders. Eight of them to be exact.
Her heart lodged in her throat as she watched them amble through the street and stop in front of the saloon. When they climbed from their horses, tying them to the hitching post, she sank back into the bench and hoped they didn’t turn around and see her.
Fear replaced her earlier anguish and she wondered how they had caught up to them so fast? Did they know Colt had come this way or was it dumb luck? Standing, she watched them all enter the saloon and chewed her bottom lip trying to figure out what to do.
If they stayed in town, Colt would have plenty of time to put distance between the town and the other outlaws but if they just stopped for food, whiskey and a woman, they’d be back on his trail within hours. Then what? Then they’d find him.
Thoughts of them finding him sent a new fear rolling in her stomach. If he really was a US Marshal like he claimed, they’d kill him. Or worse, torture him for the sheer joy of it.
Looking down the road in the direction Colt had gone, she wondered how fast he was putting distance between himself and town. He’d ridden pretty hard since escaping the outlaws initially but with so many days with no sign of them, he may be too relaxed to still be weary of them. And as arrogant as the man was, she was sure he thought he’d out smarted them.
She had to know their intentions. Whether they were staying in town or leaving soon. Colt’s life may well depend on it.
Crossing the street, she kept her head down and thanked the stars her newly acquired homespun dress helped her blend in. Surely the outlaws wouldn’t recognize her if they saw her in such drab attire. She looked nothing like the rich bankers daughter Virgil had taken.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, she eased closer to the door, listening to the robust laughter coming from inside and trying to make out what the men swilling whiskey at the bar were saying. She picked Virgil’s voice out of the crowd. He seemed to be in high spirits and standing on her tiptoes, looking into the window, she could see him. Her stomach flipped as he looked toward the swinging doors and she ducked her head. Ten minutes of listening and she knew they wouldn’t be staying which meant, they’d eventually catch Colt.
Her heart started racing at the prospect. Images of what they’d do to him when they did played in slow motion inside her head and she felt sick by the time the last image faded.
Turning to look at the stagecoach, and her only way home, Sarah bit on her bottom lip. If she passed up the ride, she may never make it back. But what did she really have to go back to? Her father, of course, but it wasn’t as if she’d never see him again. He loved her and would always welcome her, regardless of the circumstances.
There was William and his marriage proposal but the mere thought of spending the rest of her life with him left an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She used to daydream of what being married to him would be like but since meeting Colt, and being literally whisked off her feet, she’d barely given him a thought. She wasn’t even sure he was looking for her.
Colt’s words came back to her then, the ones he’d said before kissing her in the street. That if she were his woman, he’d search day and night for her. The words filled her head with such sweet promises she had a hard time ignoring them. The rapid beat of her heart while thinking of him was hard to ignore as well.
Glancing at the stagecoach, her mind was made up. She couldn’t let Colt die when she could stop it from happening. She had to warn him. Even if he didn’t want to keep her, she couldn’t willingly let danger follow him.
Peering back into the saloon window and seeing the outlaws occupied, she turned back to their horses. They were standing in a neat little row, all rested after drinking their fill from the horse trough. She looked at each one and smiled when she saw the horse Virgil had been riding.
One last look into the saloon and Sarah turned and walked out into the street, behind the horses, darting between them. She ducked her head, staying out of anyone’s line of sight, and unhooked the reins from the post.
Getting the horse to move was easier than she thought it would be and once she stuck her foot in the stirrup, she
lifted herself up, forgoing any semblance of ladylike manners and straddled the beast, turned him toward the road Colt had taken and nudged him into moving.
* * * *
Irritation gnawed at Colt’s gut. He cursed himself for a fool and lifted his hat to run his fingers through his hair. He should have never kissed Sarah again. Doing so only made him want to do it more and that would never be possible. Not now. He’d left her back in that grungy little town and hadn’t looked back once after doing so. The desire to look now was strong but he fought it.
If there was ever a woman completely wrong for him, Sarah would be it. She was a banker’s daughter. Rich, privileged, and deserved more than he could ever give her. Sure he had money tucked away, and a piece of land on his pa’s ranch, but he was sure Sarah would hate living out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to look at but mountains and horses.
She probably liked to shop, to buy pretty things, and the closest dressmaker’s shop to Willows Creek was all the way in Missoula. Jenkins Mercantile was all the little town he was from had to offer and it paled in comparison to the busy town she came from. Aside from those two facts, he didn’t even think she liked him very much. He knew she’d be better off with William, in her bustling town of friends, with her father and her father’s money.
So why hadn’t he mentioned he saw her pudgy marshal, and his accompanying posse, in the hotel lobby when he went to look for her on the street? Because he didn’t want her to know her fiancé was indeed looking for her. That he was minutes away from finding her and that he only had minutes to have her in his arms one last time.
He grinned while remembering doing just that. She was a spirited little thing. Honest, blunt and downright prickly when she wanted to be. And the finest looking woman he’d seen in ages. All that soft, flowing blonde hair, her apricot skin, and those big green eyes. Not to mention those perky breasts, tiny waist, and wide hips perfect for grippin’.
Cursing himself again, he rolled his shoulders to try and relax. Thinking of her heated his blood and his cock was telling him to turn around, grab her, and force her to come home with him. He’d make her admit she wanted him and it wouldn’t take long. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she’d wanted that kiss back in town. She may deny her feelings to him but he knew better. Sarah Hartford wanted him. She was just too damn stubborn to admit it.
A noise behind him drew his attention and he looked back over his shoulder. A horse, moving fast from the sound of it. When the rider came into view in the distance, he steered his horse to the shelter of the trees lining the road. Hidden amongst the foliage, he drew one of his pistols, checked to make sure it was loaded, and waited.
His horse nickered and he patted his neck to try and keep him quiet as the sound of the approaching rider grew closer. His first thought was, that it was Virgil, but that yellow-belly dog was too much a coward to chase him alone. Whoever was riding up on him was either brave or just plain stupid.
The rider passed the spot he was hidden in a blur and Colt blinked when he saw the yellow calico dress the rider was wearing. “Sarah?” He nudged his horse out into the open and watched her ride away, her body leaning low over the horse. “What the hell?”
Looking back the way she came, he saw no one, but fear crawled up his spine. He spurred his horse into moving and chased after her.
It took him longer than it should have to catch up. She looked over at him when he rode in beside her and reached for her horse’s reins. Her eyes widened and she slowed the horse herself before they both came to a stop.
“Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”
She sat up straight and panted a few breaths. “Well, it’s a pleasure to see you too, Colt.” She threw him a sarcastic look before pushing the curls dangling around her face away. “Your friends showed up in town. I thought you might want to know they aren’t far behind you.”
Colt let her words rattle inside his head a few dozen times, realizing then that it was her concern for him that had her chasing him down. She did care. “You rode all this way just to protect me?”
She made a small “pft,” sound before rolling her eyes. “Don’t let that ego of yours make too much of it. What kind of person would I be if I willingly let someone hurt you when I can prevent it?”
He grinned and nudged his horse closer to her. “Does that mean you care what happens to me?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Believe what you want.”
“I will. And I believe you knew I would be taken unawares and got scared, so you came looking for me.” He eyed the horse she was on and raised one eyebrow. “Where’d you get the horse?”
“It’s Virgil’s.” Her cheeks reddened to a deep scarlet. “He left it outside the saloon.”
His eyes widened. “You stole the man’s horse?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “How else was I supposed to find you?”
Colt threw his head back and laughed until his eyes watered. “Here I thought you were some prissy rich man’s daughter when you’re actually a horse thief.”
“I most certainly am not!”
“Oh, yes you are.” He chuckled again “You’ll be lucky if you aren’t hanged for it. Or shot. Most men don’t take too kindly to horse thieves.” He shook his head at her, watching her face turn a brighter shade of red. “All this time you’ve been persecuting me for being an outlaw and you’re a thieving little thing yourself.”
“I’m not a thief. I’m just…. borrowing the horse for a while.”
“So you’re taking it back to him, then?”
She didn’t answer. Just sat there glaring at him.
“Well?”
Her already red face glowed as she scowled at him. “I really dislike you, Colton Avery.”
Colt grinned again. “No you don’t or you wouldn’t have stole that horse and rode all this way to warn me. In fact, I think you like me. A lot.”
“Believe what you wish.” She grabbed the horse’s reins and turned him back toward town. “Now that you know Virgil is behind you, you’ll want to make sure you aren’t around when he comes this way. Now, have a good day, Mr. Avery. I have a stagecoach to catch.”
Colt watched her leave and laughed again. She was sitting up tall in the saddle, her back straight, with her chin tilted up in an arrogant angle. Little Miss Prim and Proper—on her stolen horse—riding off like a queen out for a Sunday stroll.
He nudged his horse and went after her, grabbing her horse’s reins when he reached her. “You’re going the wrong way, sweetheart.” He turned them, back in the direction he was originally going, and grinned when she tried to take the reins from him.
“I’m not going with you, Colt, now give me those reins.”
“Can’t do.” He looped them around the saddle horn in front of him and looked over at her. “You go back to town and Virgil will find you. He sees you on his horse, and getting arrested for stealing that animal will be the least of your problems.”
“I have no intentions of getting caught.” She made a grab for the reins and he took hold of her hand.
“For once in your life, would you listen to me?” He gave her a stern look, meeting her gaze head-on. “Do you honestly believe they won’t see you? Do you think someone hasn’t noticed the horse missing yet? Hell, they’re probably making their way out here as we speak.”
She turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes a little too wide. She licked her lips and Colt’s pulse leaped. “Look, we’re only a two day ride from Willow Creek. The stagecoach line runs that way so you can just go home from there instead.” Assuming he let her get on it. He stared at her, watching her turn to look at him and knew, one way or another, before she got on that stagecoach, he’d make her think twice about leaving him. If he was lucky, she might even stay.
His heart skipped a beat at the thought. Why did he want her to stay? He rolled the question around in his head, trying to figure out exactly what it was he wanted from her.
Her in his bed, for one. He hadn’t been able to think of much else since clapping eyes on her but it was more than that. He liked talking to her, looking at her, and the verbal sparring matches gave him a bit of humor in his otherwise boring existence.