by Debra Cowan
“What are those for?” she asked.
“Thought we’d try something besides cans this time.”
“A bigger target?” Her mouth quirked. “Do you have hopes I might be able to hit one of these?”
“Yes.” He smiled, causing a tickle in her stomach.
She looked away, making herself recall the way he’d spoken to her last night. He strode behind the barn, walking into the pasture beyond. Late-day sunlight, the color of old gold, shifted across the prairie, running over the tips of endless buffalo grass. The muscles in his arms strained at the sleeves of his blue shirt.
Several yards away from the weathered building, he stopped in a gentle dip of ground and dumped one rectangular bale on top of the other.
He started past her toward the barn again then stopped. “Josie?”
She looked up, her nerves prickling at the intensity in his eyes.
“I’d like to apologize.”
She blinked. “W-what?”
He braced his hands on his hips and faced her, his eyes glittering beneath the brim of his hat. “I was too harsh last night. I shouldn’t have handled things that way and I’m sorry.”
Stunned, she stared at him. “You obviously thought I was guilty.”
“I did. I don’t now.”
“Why not?”
“I just…don’t think so.”
“So you do believe that last night I was where I said I was?”
“Yes.”
Why did he believe her now? She shoved down the pleasure she felt at his apology. “I don’t understand.”
“If you were guilty, you wouldn’t have shown up tonight.”
“And if I really had been the one who took a shot at McDougal, I probably would’ve left town after your accusations.”
“I figure that’s right.”
Though she was glad Davis Lee no longer suspected her, there was something… “I understand,” she said softly, stifling a twinge of disappointment.
“Understand what?”
“The reason you believe me isn’t because I told you I didn’t shoot at him. It’s because you watched the hotel all night to see if I would go anywhere. And since I didn’t, you’ve decided maybe I was telling the truth.”
He kept his gaze trained on hers and she knew by the implacable look on his face that she was right. Why did that hurt so much?
“Did anyone see me last night who could confirm where I was?” Her voice sounded ragged. “I’m sure you asked around.”
He nodded. “I’m apologizing because I was too harsh.”
“And arrogant?”
After a slight pause, he acceded with a nod.
“And a bully,” she added.
“Going for blood?” He grinned. “And a bully.”
His admission had her lips curving, but as glad as she was to hear his apology, he was much less dangerous when he wasn’t being so likable. “Thank you. I accept.”
“Good.” He smiled into her eyes and her heart skipped a beat.
His fierce questioning of her last night had left her wondering. “If something happened to McDougal while he was here, would you be held accountable?”
“Yes. He’s in my jail, after all.”
Josie didn’t want that. Davis Lee had saved her life and now she could be endangering his job. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him, but McDougal had to pay for murdering her loved ones.
She watched him stride back to the barn, long legs eating up the distance. She wanted him to believe her because he trusted her. The admission sent a jolt of panic through her, had her backing up mentally. No, she didn’t care if he trusted her or not. The reason she was here with him was twofold: to learn to shoot, and to use him to find out information about the man she intended to kill.
Davis Lee returned with two more bales, stacking them atop the others to make a straw tower. The pressed hay sat considerably closer to her than the cans had at her first target practice.
“Do we need to start at the beginning?” Davis Lee came to stand beside her.
“No,” she said shortly. “I remember what you taught me.”
She dipped into her pocket and pulled out her new weapon. She popped the chamber and held it up so he could see it was empty. “After I load it, I sight the target—do I just aim for a place on the bale?”
“I’ll get something.” He walked back to the front of the barn and disappeared around the corner then returned with a burlap bag. Walking the twenty or so feet to the hay bales he stretched the feed sack the length of a bale and tucked it beneath the thin rope that held the hay together. He turned the marked side toward her so that the name of a feed company and some words too small to read were visible.
“Aim for the circle of words.”
She nodded, desperate to hit the target today, to finally learn how to do this.
He moved up beside her. “What else do you remember from last time?”
You yanking off my corset. “Don’t point the gun unless I’m prepared to use it.”
He nodded. “Ready when you are.”
“All right.” She opened the box Jed Doyle had filled with bullets.
She slid six into the gun’s chamber and clicked it into position. She lifted both arms and leveled the gun, sighting down its length to the black words marked on the burlap bag. She pulled the trigger, flinching at the noise.
The bullet went off into the air. She’d forgotten how loud the gunshots were, how hard the weapon kicked, how lousy she’d been the first time. Resolved to hit the target at least once before leaving today, she sighted it again.
“Here.” Davis Lee reached toward her, sliding his hand over hers and pushing her grip down. “If more of your palm covers the handle, you’ll be steadier.”
She squeezed the trigger again, amazed that the weapon’s kick did lessen. “Yes, I can tell a difference.”
“You didn’t close your eyes this time. That’s good,” he murmured.
His words sounded almost caressing and made her as jittery as a painted lady at a prayer meeting. She didn’t know how many lessons she would be able to survive with Davis Lee. How long she’d be able to keep up her guard against him. She emptied the chamber, hitting absolutely nothing.
She stared at the weapon in frustration. As she reloaded, Davis Lee laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Try to relax. Your shoulders are too stiff. That’s part of the problem.”
“The other part being that a blind man has better aim?”
He grinned. “This isn’t something you can learn in a day.”
“For some of us, maybe not even a year.”
“You’ll get it. It just takes practice.”
She would learn how to do this. Ian McDougal wasn’t getting past her again, the way he had that awful night. As she stared at the bale of hay, she wondered if she could really shoot the outlaw given the chance. Could she really kill him the way he’d killed her parents, her fiancé? She shoved the doubts away. She’d come to kill him. She would.
Josie didn’t know how long she stood there with Davis Lee, shots cracking through the air as the sun sank lower in the sky behind them. A couple of times he jogged over to the hay bales and told her she’d hit the ground just to the side of them or just in front.
That gave her enough encouragement to load another six bullets. Her forearms ached and she found it more and more difficult to keep her attention solely on the task at hand. Her mind and her attention kept wandering to the big man beside her who encouraged and directed and stood altogether too close.
She wanted to stay mad at him, but the anger slipped away as easily as the time. There were only a dozen or so bullets remaining in the box. She fired three more, lousy good-for-nothing shots and lowered her arm. “Why can’t I do this?”
“Squeeze the trigger slowly,” he said. “Picture in your mind that you’re blowing a hole in that feed sack.”
“I have been,” she said through gritted teeth.
He smiled, reaching over to nud
ge her forearm up. His hand circled her wrist, his thumb resting on her pulse. “Don’t stop yet.”
His palm was hot and callused against her skin. She pictured hitting the target then squeezed the trigger. A hole appeared in the bag at the left edge.
For a second, she stared. She took a couple of steps forward and her mouth dropped open. “I—I hit that! Do you see? I hit it!”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I see.”
“I’m going to do it again.” She moved back beside him, taking aim.
When she was ready, she fired. Another hole appeared, this one near the bottom center of the bag. “Ohmystars!”
In her excitement, Josie spun toward Davis Lee. He was closer than she thought and she bumped him, hard. The gun flew out of her hand. Before she could react, a sharp explosion cracked the air.
She shrieked and launched herself at him, her arms locking around his neck. She pressed against him, tight as a steel spring bustle. “What was that?”
“Your gun.” His arms wrapped around her as he looked over her shoulder. “You’re lucky it’s pointed the other direction. You could’ve shot off your foot or mine.”
She exhaled in relief, sagging against him. “I got so excited that I finally hit something. I’m sorry.”
“No harm done. This time.” His breath drifted against her cheek.
Josie realized with a start that she was plastered to him. Every inch of her. Against every inch of him. She swallowed hard.
“You gotta be careful.” His voice stroked over her, velvety and hypnotizing.
Her gaze met his. There was no mistaking the hunger in his eyes. Hunger that should’ve had her wrenching herself out of his arms and putting her feet on solid ground. She licked suddenly dry lips. “I will. I promise.”
His eyes darkened and her senses narrowed to the man holding her.
The burn of gunpowder, the excitement of hitting her target for the first time, disappeared. Davis Lee’s chest was solid muscle against her breasts. The deep male scent of him slid into her lungs, heady and delicious. His body cradled hers all the way down to her button-up boots.
“I’m gonna kiss you, Josie,” he said gruffly. “I have to.”
Her breath caught. “Are you trying to scare me?”
“If you’re scared, you better run. Now.”
She didn’t want to run. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers.
He dipped his head. “Are you goin’ for that blade?”
She shook her head. Waiting, aching for him to kiss her. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest and her arms tightened around him.
He had to taste her. Filled with the scent of her, he curled her tight into him and settled his mouth over hers.
She stilled for a second then parted her lips, letting him in. The soft noise she made kicked off a scalding desire inside him. He had imagined the taste of her, but he’d come nowhere close to the dark sweetness of her mouth.
She touched his tongue with hers. He dragged one hand up her back, cupping her nape so that his thumb rested in the hollow of her throat. He drank her in, his mind blank of all reason as a savage swirl of need pulled him under.
He angled her head, went deeper and slower with his tongue. There was no fight in her. She was all give and soft woman.
He let her slowly drift down his body until her feet touched the ground. She stood on tiptoe, still kissing him, her stomach against his arousal, her breasts flattened against his chest. She smelled delicious, tasted like honey-drenched sin.
One arm slanted down her back, holding her to him. He lifted his other hand, gliding his thumb over her cheekbone, burying his fingers in her hair.
It was like thick, hot silk. He wanted to unbraid it, drown his face in it, feel it on his bare skin, his belly. The whole time they kissed he told himself he was in control. That it was her body shaking, not his. That he was only trying to keep her off balance.
She moaned, gripping the front of his shirt. He lifted his head, his breathing rough and loud. Hard with need, he throbbed against her belly and she felt it, her eyes widening slightly.
Her pulse thrummed wildly beneath his touch. She was flushed, her eyes deep and soft with desire as she lifted a shaking hand to his face. “Oh…my,” she said hoarsely.
He kissed her again, harder this time, again demanding total surrender.
He got it. She melted into him, her hands curving around his nape then slipping into his hair. She was sweet and hot.
Davis Lee thought his knees might buckle. He dragged his lips from hers and set his teeth on her neck. He nipped and laved his way to her ear, biting gently on her lobe.
She wiggled closer, making a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan. Aching, he nuzzled her temple, her cheek, savoring the fine texture of her skin, drawing in her light honeysuckle scent. He brushed her lips with his just as he heard a noise behind him.
He lifted his head.
“Noooo,” Josie moaned, trying to pull him back down.
“Shhh.” He pressed her close, trying to hear over the roar of his blood.
The murmur of a voice, the jangle of harness, the soft blow of a horse. Someone was in the barn. Catherine.
Josie finally heard the sounds, too. She stiffened and wiggled out of his arms. Her face was flushed, her hair loose where he’d thrust his fingers. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly.
Davis Lee balled his hands into fists and forced himself to step away, which was damn hard when he wanted to pull her back against him and finish what he’d started. Dragging in air, he waited for her to slap him or run.
She stared at him, her eyes huge and moss-green in her beautiful face.
The violent hammering of his blood finally quieted enough for his brain to work. She probably expected him to apologize for taking such liberties, but when she spoke, she said, “I think we should go.”
She turned away, kneeling to pick up her gun. She carefully checked to make sure the chamber was empty before she stood and slid it into her skirt pocket. As she smoothed her hair into place, her color deepened. Her lips were still wet from his.
The sight of her set off a primal hunger inside him. He wanted to taste her again, take her. She was his.
The thought exploded in his mind and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned, laboring as if an invisible weight pressed down on him. He had to get away from her.
“I’ll come back later and return the hay bales to Catherine’s barn,” he said. “I should get you back to the hotel before dark.”
“Yes. All right.”
She didn’t look at him as they walked silently back to town, making a path that kept them away from Catherine as well as other people and brought them up behind the hotel.
One look at Josie and it would be clear she’d been thoroughly kissed. By him. What was he going to do? “Josie?”
“Please don’t say anything. Please.” She knew it would never happen again. It couldn’t. But she didn’t want to hear him say he regretted it.
Somehow she’d find a way to put the memory aside so she could continue her lessons with him.
He walked her to the front of the hotel, his handsome face set in unyielding lines. The day had only begun to shift into evening, a soft gray haze blurring the edges of the setting sun. Voices drifted over from the Pearl as people finished their dinner. Lanterns there and in the hotel spread golden light onto the street.
They stopped in front of the hotel’s landing. She tried to ease the tension arcing between them by giving a little laugh. “It’s a good thing you didn’t have to kill any snakes for me today.”
He nodded, his eyes dark and serious in a way she’d never seen.
“I hope I’ll be able to hit that target again. Do you think it was just an accident that I did?”
“I can’t do it, Josie,” he said baldly.
“Do what?”
“The, um—” He cleared his throat. “I won’t be able to take you out for lessons again.”
Shock stiffened her
spine. “But I was just getting somewhere.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Is it because I dropped the gun? I didn’t mean to, I swear.”
“No, that’s not why.”
She stared at him for a moment. “It’s because of that ki—because of what happened, isn’t it?”
“It’s not that.” But he looked so uncomfortable that she knew it was.
“We can forget about it.” She didn’t know how she would. She’d never been kissed like that in her life, not even by the man she’d pledged to marry. “I mean, it was just a kiss. Or two. Right?”
His face hardened. “Some things have come up that demand my attention. All my attention.”
“I thought you had Jake to help you.”
“I do.” Davis Lee’s gaze flicked away. “He will, but I’ll still be too busy to spend the time with you.”
“We don’t have to meet every night.” She didn’t understand why she felt so desperate.
“I’m sorry.”
“But—”
“I hope you’ll understand.”
No, she didn’t!
He tipped his hat, murmuring, “I’ll see you soon.”
And with that, he was gone. Josie watched his steady purposeful gait as he moved toward the jail. She wanted to wail, to scream. She needed him—his help, she corrected. Only that. Even so, she fought the sinking feeling that she’d lost more than shooting lessons.
Chapter Nine
Knowing he’d been right to tell Josie he couldn’t continue the shooting lessons did nothing to ease the need that had throbbed below Davis Lee’s gun belt since kissing her.
Need that only sharpened the next day in church, when she slipped into a seat on the back row across the aisle from him. The drift of her soft scent lured his mind back to the way she’d felt against him yesterday. It was difficult to keep his attention on Reverend Scoggins.
After the service ended, she rose, barely sparing him a look as she walked out. By the time Davis Lee answered questions about the fire and gunshot on Friday night and got outside, she was walking down the middle of Main Street, flanked by Cora and Loren.
Her bronze silk gown gloved her high breasts and tapered in at her small waist. Her skirts swayed gently. Her long hair was gathered high on the back of her head to cascade in a dark fall to her shoulders, exposing the sweet line of her neck. She looked like honey and cream, and Davis Lee wanted another taste.