The Talisman - Crisscross

by Shaunna Gonzales

Quinn found it impossible to understand the woman. He stretched out, allowing himself to float. One moment Trish needed rescuing, the next she needed no man. There seemed to be an inexplicable quality about her. He refused to believe her to be anything but what she portrayed and yet she didn't fit the mold of a whore. Why would she go out of her way to find a murderer? Did she care about others that much? About him and his family, for that matter? She constantly changed and with every frustrating change, he found himself wanting her more. Earlier today, she had flirted with him, inviting him into her room with those batting eyelashes and come-hither smile. It had taken a great deal of self-control not to take her then and there. He felt his body react to his thoughts despite the cool water. Today she had wanted his help only to thrust her whoring ways in his face at Moore's saloon.

  A submerged branch feathered his arm, signaling him that the rivers current had carried him the length of the swimming hole. He rolled and swam over to check on the gelding.

  He'd known his share of women and even rescued one or two, including Zelda. Trish didn't fit the mold. He had to admit she could handle herself. He had no doubt that she very possibly could have finished Old Curly without his knife in the old coot. When Moore had leered at her, she had kept him in line, a line that Quinn hadn't felt was wise to cross. Oh, he wanted to, at one point, he even needed to, but he wanted something else more… her respect, her friendship and her love. He swallowed hard. Had he actually used the word love?

  The gelding he trained for Noble shied, pulling at the bit and squealing. Quinn put his feet under him, standing waist deep in the water. Trish approached the gelding. She no longer wore the red and black with matching parasol and kid gloves. Now she wore a shirt, more like Lucinda and Penelope did, but she'd tied it high, just under her bosom, revealing an off-white under garment and one of Zelda's old skirts, a faded red one without ruffles and lace. Her whole ensemble, even her hair, seemed to have a red tint to it.

  She approached the gelding, her horse's reins in one hand, her hands extended. When the gelding stood still, she reached for the pile of sweet alfalfa just beyond his reach.

  "Move that feed an' I'll tan your hide." She spun around, jerking her arms close to her beautifully shaped form, alert and searching.

  "But he's hungry," she called.

  "He's more thirsty than hungry, but he's gotta learn. Tie your horse where he can drink."

  He shook his head in amusement and took a step back into the deeper water. She wasn't as upset as he'd believed, not if she came to the swimming hole, his swimming hole. His gut didn't twitch with excitement, yet his whole body came alive knowing she was near with his current lack of clothing. He watched her do as he told her. Her horse dropped his head to drink of the fresh, cool water. Satisfied that she wouldn't intervene with the gelding's training, he paddled to where the sun danced on his bare skin. From his station he continued to watch the horse. The gelding pulled at his reins and squealed, then stood still, quivering.

  "Quinn, that is so mean," she complained, coming closer.

  "That's trainin,' it ain't pretty, but he's got to learn to stand and not wander when ground tied. Your horse stay put when ya ground tie him?"

  "You're naked."

  So, she had noticed. Would she stay? "Wearing my 'no nothuns' while the clothes dry." He motioned toward his array of clothing hanging on several branches. He treaded water, moving out of the sunlight to hide his arousal. Despite his physical excitement brought again to a pique with her arrival here, he held his tone flat. She didn't respond. Quinn rolled and stroked toward the far end of the swimming hole, knowing that she watched him. He ducked under a fallen log, one he'd stripped most of the bark off. He came up on the far side and draped his arms across it to watch her. The sound of breaking twigs and rustling of bushes let him know she was headed for the flat rock above the pond.

  Surprising that she should know it was there. It was only visible from the middle of the swimming hole. He could only see her shadow as it played on the water's surface. Apparently, she sat down. She remained a mystery to him… a beautiful, unpredictable creature, capable of surprising him in so many ways. It would require time and patience, maybe even a lifetime to completely understand her. He might never accurately predict her moods or her decisions. The possible continuation of mystery tantalized him, providing additional fuel to his burning attraction.

  Her wanton behavior proved tempered by caution. He smiled, wondering how cautious she really was. What more might he find hidden behind her unpredictability? He decided to find out.

  He swam to the middle of the swimming hole and paused, treading water. "Ya come to sit on that there rock or swim?"

  She scooted closer to the edge, peering down at him. "Actually, I came to relax."

  "So ya ain't planning to wash yer clothes neither."

  "Didn't bring any soap."

  "I got soap over here in a tin."

  "Thank you, but-- I came for a swim."

  "Alone?" His pulse thundered in his ears. He clamped down on his desires.

  "Yes, please. I need to think. I hope you don't mind." With the sun at her back he found it impossible to read her expression and decided to fold to her wishes.

  "Then I'll--" he indicated he would leave and instantly wished he hadn't.

  "Thank you," she murmured.

  He swam to the edge near where his pants were drying and pulled himself out. Knowing his backside was bare to her view sent his senses reeling. His body reacted. He took a deep breath and exhaled, lifted his pants from where they hung and pulled them on, one slightly damp leg at a time. Experience told him this would not be a comfortable ride home.

  "You got a bit of a sunburn." He jumped. He'd been so engrossed with regaining control of his desires that he hadn't heard her approach. She stood five feet away. He buttoned his pants while she came closer. Her fingers touched his shoulder. A tingling quiver shot through him, overshadowing the burning sensation. Her touch, so delicate and soft sent a shiver down his spine, settling in his groin. His shoulder rose with his deep breath, bringing more of her fingers into contact with his skin.

  "Thought ya said you wanted to swim alone."

  "Changed my mind. I better do some wash or Zelda will stop letting me borrow her clothes."

  Quinn's heart dropped. Her touch had been no more than a disinterested touch. "This pond's good for washing if ya don't stir it up right below the sun rock. There's a tin with soap in it there by the willows ifn' you wanna wash yer dress."

  "Where?" She craned her neck, dropping her hand from his shoulder.

  He moved back to her and stood behind her. Placing his hands on her hips he guided her to where she could easily see the tin hidden amongst the willows. "See it now?"

  Did she really sway into him or was he just imagining it? The thin fabric may hide her delicate shape to the casual observer, but standing this close, his hands on her hips, he could feel a definition of her body that surprised him. Standing this close to her, her fragrance tantalized his senses. He breathed deep, wanting to inhale all of her.

  "Won't the animals get it?"

  "No." He smiled. "I don't leave it here. The critters would carry it off. But it don't hurt to come prepared."

  "Oh, then you better take it with you."

  "No. You use it." Quinn knew he'd just been dismissed. He stepped away from her. At the water's edge, he pulled his shirt on and glanced at her. She stood there, straight and refined. Her fingertip wave nudged the door on his emotions closed. She had no interest in him. He apparently had none of those qualities she required in a man.

 

  Chapter 29