by Debra Cowan
“It was, Davis Lee.” She flattened a palm on his chest. “I needed you to touch me that night. I wanted you to. I still do.”
“You had a real jolt, hon. I want you to know you’re safe with me.”
“I do know it.” Her eyes were earnest, pleading with him to believe.
“Yeah?”
She nodded.
Relieved, his gaze caught on a wisp of her hair blowing gently against her neck, right below the tender patch of skin behind her ear.
“So it’s okay that I’m touching you?”
He glanced down, saw her hand still on his chest. “Yes.”
Her tongue slicked across her lower lip. “Then maybe you could touch me, too? Just put your hands on my waist, like we’re dancing?”
“Okay.” He settled his hands there, her body heat warming his palms, her small waist taut beneath his touch.
She laid her free arm along his forearm, stroking his bicep. “You can tell I’m not in the least afraid, can’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I look like I’m ready to skedaddle?”
He chuckled, his arms sliding around her waist and pulling her close. “All right, I understand.”
Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. “I’m not made of glass, you know.”
He hoped that was an invitation because he took it that way. He bent his head and she met him, her arms going around his neck as his lips touched hers.
His chest felt strange, warm and light at the same time. She smelled luscious, felt so damn good against him. The same ruthless, reckless lust that had hooked into him the other night grabbed hold and he lifted his head, cautioning himself to go easy. “Better now?”
“I’d say we’re finally seein’ eye to eye,” she said on a dreamy sigh.
The heat inside him spiked. He wanted to kiss her again, do more than that, but he wouldn’t. Trying to hold on to his one remaining thread of common sense, he eased back enough to see her face, but kept his arms around her. “Since I told you what’s on my mind, why don’t you tell me what’s on yours?”
Her spine went rigid. He saw panic in her eyes the split second before she shuttered them against him. “What do you mean?”
“Honey, we both know something’s going on.”
“It’s…just the attack.”
He lifted her chin. “Josie, it’s been between us since the day I confronted you in the alley.”
She closed her eyes and when she opened them, they were dark and stormy. The turmoil on her face looked as if it were causing her physical pain. “I just can’t talk about it yet. Give me a little time?”
“How much time?” Irritated, he dropped his arms and stepped back. “I want to know why you really came to Whirlwind.”
She swallowed hard. “Davis Lee—”
“Why’s it such a big secret?”
“Who said it was?”
He gave her a pointed look, nettled by her sidestepping. “If it isn’t, then why don’t you tell me? Don’t you care that it makes me wonder if you’re involved in something bad?”
“I can’t help what you think.”
“You can, but you won’t. I’m going to find out what’s going on and it would be better if you were the one to tell me.”
“Or what?” Apprehension sprang up inside her and her voice rose. “You’ll throw me in jail?”
“Do you think I won’t?” His voice was low and dangerous.
Her stomach churning violently, she gave a disbelieving laugh. “You have no cause.”
“General provocation.”
He shot out the term so fast, she wondered if there were such a thing. “You can’t arrest someone for that.” In response to his stoic look, she said tentatively, “Can you?”
“Tell me what I want to know.” He took a step toward her, a fierce light in his eyes. “Tell me my trust in you isn’t misplaced.”
She turned away from the accusation in his blue eyes. She had come to Whirlwind with a straightforward plan and now it was a maze of secrets and emotions she’d never expected.
Davis Lee moved up behind her, closing in tight the way he had the night in Penn’s office. His voice was rough, edged with anger and disappointment. “I’ve been patient, Josie, but the time has come for you to tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“I told you about Rock River. Is it asking too much for you to tell me something, just one thing?”
It wasn’t, but she didn’t answer.
“After what happened Saturday night, I thought you would, but you didn’t.”
“Why are you bringing that up?” she cried, pivoting to face him. “That man was horrible—”
“And just a minute ago, when I was honest with you, I hoped you’d confide in me, but no.”
Everything inside her stilled. Guilt steadily chipped away at her. Davis Lee had been honest with her; he deserved nothing less. But she couldn’t do the same.
Feeling as if the ground were crumbling beneath her, she asked in a choked voice, “Why is it too much to ask that you let me tell you in my own time?”
“Because I don’t think you plan to tell me,” he said baldly. “All you’ve done is put me off.”
“Well, all you’ve done is press me.” She brushed past him and started for town. The thought of telling him she’d come here to kill Ian had her questioning her loyalty to her family. “I thought you had feelings for me.”
“Don’t play that card,” he said tightly. He followed, snatching the burlap bag full of cans off the ground and catching up to her. He didn’t touch her, but his body was very close. Too close. “You’d better change your mind about talking, and quick.”
Her temper sparked by his demanding tone, she snapped, “I won’t.”
She walked faster, but his long legs easily kept him apace with her. They reached the edge of town. She cut between two houses, angling for the steps at the end of the Whirlwind Hotel’s veranda.
“I guess I’ll just have to find out your reasons for myself.”
“By doing what?” she asked hotly, alarm racing along her nerves. If she told him she had come here to kill Ian, he’d be able to stop her—either through persuasion or coercion. What had started out as a quest for the justice her family deserved had become more about Davis Lee. That was wrong, wasn’t it?
“All you need to know is I plan to keep a real close eye on you.”
She faltered on the bottom step and looked sharply at him, saw the determination in his narrowed eyes. All the panic and frustration and fear that had been building inside her exploded into anger, made her voice tight. “Why don’t you leave me alone?”
“Clear the air and things will be fine.”
“I’m going in.” She managed to get the words out, feeling cornered, suffocated.
“You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be.”
“Go away,” she said through gritted teeth.
“If you change your mind, you know how to find me.”
“I want you to leave me alone!”
“Your call, sweetheart.”
She stomped up the steps and to the hotel’s front door. From the corner of her eye, she saw Davis Lee stalk down the street toward the jail.
Josie made it to her room on anger alone, but as soon as she got inside, it drained out of her. She leaned back against the closed door. She stood in the deepening shadows for a long time, trembling and fighting a sense of drowning as she stared at the wedge of hazy light coming through the window. If he really cared about her, he would trust her. Why should he? argued a more rational part of her mind. You haven’t told him anything about the pain Ian and his brothers had caused, the justice they had escaped.
But she didn’t want to tell him because now she knew she would have to be the one to kill Ian. Pushing away from the door, she walked over to light the lamp on the bedside table and sank down on the mattress. Unable to stop her tears, she buried her face in her hands.
Her visit to the newspa
per this morning had yielded plenty of information about the gang of outlaws, but no other names of people who might try to kill the surviving McDougal other than the ones she’d unearthed earlier— Catherine or Andrew Donnelly, Cora Wilkes, Susannah or Riley Holt.
Josie wasn’t convinced any of those people had made—or would make—an attempt on the outlaw’s life.
Because of her feelings for Davis Lee, her purpose was waning by the hour. How could she not fall for a man who was so careful of her feelings? Who worried so much about protecting her?
She didn’t want to think about the way he had cared for her after the snakebite, how he had saved her from being raped and possibly killed. He had opened up to her, not once but twice, and asked her to do the same. He deserved no less, and she hadn’t been able to give him the same honesty.
If she told Davis Lee everything, he could very well want her out of town, certainly out of his life. That thought stabbed cold fear into her. But the idea that Ian McDougal might escape justice again and never pay for all the murders he’d committed, all the lives he’d shattered, was horrifying. Her choice should’ve been easy.
Chapter Fifteen
No man needed killin’ more than Ian McDougal. It was supposed to have been easy for Josie to get rid of the man who had destroyed her world. But then she’d met Davis Lee. And fallen in love with him.
She had realized that sometime after midnight. The giddy, fluttery sensation inside her was overwhelmed by anxiety. It was just like her to figure out something like love after she’d argued with the man.
When the pink-gray light of dawn crept into her bedroom, she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, but she had made a decision. She would tell Davis Lee everything and after that… Well, she couldn’t even think about what would happen after that.
She took a quick, cold bath then dressed quickly and put up her hair as apprehension fisted in her stomach. Refusing to put it off any longer, Josie made her way to the jail with Davis Lee’s mended clothes. The garments were an excuse to see him in case he was still too angry to talk to her. But he wasn’t there.
Cody Tillman, a sturdy young man about her age who looked as tough as rawhide, was filling in as deputy. He told her that Davis Lee had taken a prisoner to the jail in Abilene, and would be gone for the day, possibly overnight. She knew which prisoner, knew Davis Lee was moving her attacker out of Whirlwind so she would feel safe. He’d promised to get rid of the man, but Josie wondered why he hadn’t asked Cody to take the man. Had Davis Lee chosen to transport the prisoner himself so he could stay away from her?
Her heart ached. She had to see him.
That day passed so slowly that Josie could’ve waltzed across Texas and back. She kept constant watch out her window, but she didn’t see him return. After a late supper, her way lit by moonlight and the lamps from the hotel and jail, she returned to Davis Lee’s office. Perhaps he had slipped in while she was eating supper in the hotel’s dining room. But he hadn’t.
She was on her last nerve. Though she dreaded the coming conversation, she was ready to have it done. She wanted to tell him the truth, all of it, the minute he got back to town. She was too wound up to go back to her room. Even knowing Davis Lee might not return until tomorrow, she decided to wait outside his house for a bit, just in case. That wouldn’t harm anything.
Woodsmoke drifted from the hotel and a couple of small homes behind. She moved across the street toward Haskell’s, noting the store’s darkened windows. The light from the jail shone weakly down the alley as Josie walked behind the mercantile. She drew up short. A candle glowed in Davis Lee’s front window.
He was home. Her heart thundered. Sweat slicked her palms. Holding the bundle of his clothes tightly to her chest, she made her way slowly to the porch.
She wanted him to know that she had come here to get justice for her family, wanted to tell him why she’d kept the information from him for so long. She wanted him to understand, but would he? Nerves jumping, she blew out a breath. There was only one way to find out. Besides, if she thought on it further, she’d hightail it back to the hotel faster than a scorched cat.
She stepped quietly up to the door and stood there for a long minute, listening past the chirp of insects and the soft push of the wind for any sound from inside. The oilskin shade was down on his front window, but she saw a shadow pass in front of it. Determined to be as honest with him as he’d been with her, she knocked.
“Coming.” The door opened and Davis Lee stood there, bare-chested, hair damp, bathed in the glow of a lamp in the corner behind him.
Her greeting slid back down her throat.
“Josie.” His voice was flat.
“Davis Lee.” She should’ve said more, had plenty to say, but her tongue wouldn’t work.
The sight of his tautly muscled, golden flesh had desire pulsing through her in a wild rush. Denim trousers hugged his lean waist. Moisture glistened on his brawny shoulders. Her gaze helplessly traced over the dark hair on his chest, the well-hewn plane of his stomach, down his long legs. His feet were bare and behind him she saw a set of evaporating footprints.
A shiver worked through her as her gaze lifted to his. She read the steel in his eyes, the anvil-hard firming of his jaw. “I…needed to see you.”
“I got that jackass to Abilene.” His words were clipped. “He won’t hurt you again. Or anyone else.”
“Thank you.” He filled the doorway, huge and intimidating. He clearly wasn’t going to invite her in, but she wasn’t leaving until she’d had her say. “I brought your clothes.”
His gaze flicked to the bundle in her arms. “I told you I’d come get them.”
“I thought you might need them. I stopped by the jail, but you weren’t there.” Taking the only chance she might have, she squeezed past him, catching a faint whiff of alcohol and the flesh-warmed scent of soap. She walked several feet to his dining table, noting the damp towel hung over the back of a chair he’d moved in front of the fireplace. He’d told her before that he had a bathing tub in a separate room at the back of the house.
She glanced over her shoulder, inwardly wincing at his sharp scrutiny. The door still stood open behind him, making it clear that he wasn’t planning for her to stay. She swallowed hard. “All the mending is finished. You should be fixed up for a while.”
“Thanks.”
She squirmed at his impassive voice. There would never be any easy way to do this. “I didn’t come to ask about your trip to Abilene.”
“Then why are you here?” He folded his arms over his wide, solid chest and waited.
She couldn’t bear him looking at her that way, so unapproachable, so put out. Wood shavings from his whittling littered the floor in front of the fireplace. His bottle of whiskey and a glass containing traces of amber liquid sat on the corner of the table. Whittling and drinking meant he was bothered about something. Maybe what had happened between them.
She carefully laid his clothes on the table next to the liquor bottle. “I wanted to talk to you about last night, the things I said. I told you to leave me alone, but that isn’t what I want.”
“Josie—”
“I didn’t sleep a wink. It upsets me that you’re angry.”
He shut the door, but he stayed in front of it.
“This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.” The crackle of the fire, the scent of pine shavings, the smell of his skin, had her remembering how he’d cared for her the other night, recalling in exquisite agony his mouth on hers, his hands on her body.
He watched her, looking grim and immovable. Fine, if he wouldn’t talk, she would. Not sure where to start, she plunged in. “When I came to Whirlwind, I didn’t intend to live here.”
“Even though that’s what you told me?”
“Yes.” She held his gaze, clasped her shaking hands together. “But now I don’t want to leave.”
“Is there some reason you have to?”
“I didn’t think you’d still be this mad,” she murmured.
“Does that mean you’re catchin’ the next stage out?”
Pain sliced through her. “Is that what you want?”
“Does it matter what I want?” he asked archly.
His reference to last night and her refusal to tell him anything was unmistakable. Had she ruined what was growing between them? “It matters a great deal to me.” She turned, paced to the other end of the table then back. “I care about you, Davis Lee.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” He held himself stiffly aloof from her. “Do you not want me to say that?”
He looked away, scrubbing a hand down his face. It was a long minute before he spoke. “Thanks for mending those clothes. If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll finish dressing and walk you back to the hotel.”
“I really did come here to talk to you. Please?”
Feet spread wide, hands on his hips, he leveled his gaze into hers. “I need more time to cool off.”
She knew if she didn’t speak now, she might lose her chance. She would definitely lose her nerve. Walking the length of the table, her words poured out. “My family is dead, and sometimes I miss them so much, sometimes I’m so lonely that I can’t breathe.” He frowned so fiercely that her voice cracked; she battled back tears as she paced the other direction. “The only time I feel all right is when I’m with you.”
“You’re with me now,” he said evenly, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t look all right.”
“You don’t want me here, and I don’t blame you. But please hear me out.” Her boots clicked hollowly as she moved back and forth across his wooden floor. “I want to tell you about my family.”
Her palms were clammy. She pulled off her gloves, stuffed them into her pocket. Her skin felt too small, her nerves laid bare. Turning jerkily in a whirl of skirts to go back the other direction, her thigh hit the edge of the table. The glass fell, hit the corner of a chair and shattered. “Oh, no!”
“Leave it,” Davis Lee said tersely as she knelt to clean up the mess.
“Clumsy,” she muttered as she picked up the biggest shard. “My parents— Ow!”
At the stinging prick, she dropped the broken glass. Blood welled from a small cut on her index finger.