Turner's Rainbow 2 - The Rainbow Promise

by Lisa Gregory

  Jackson started toward her. "You better just put that gun down, and nothin'll happen to ya."

  "It's you it'll happen to, if you take another step."

  Again Jackson chuckled. He knew that women didn't have the guts or the gumption to fire a gun at a man.

  Sarah sighted down the rifle. Jackson continued to walk toward her. She squeezed the trigger.

  The noise echoed around the barn. Jackson fell to the floor and lay writhing, clutching his thigh. Blood oozed between his fingers. His companions stared at him, the blood draining from their faces.

  "My husband taught me how to shoot. Perhaps you've heard that he's good with a gun," Sarah walked around to stand beside Cal, facing the men who held Luke. She pointed her gun straight at one of the men. "I don't like to kill, so I shot him in the leg. But if you or anyone else does anything except what I tell you, I'll aim for the heart." She paused, her gaze cool. "Now. Release my husband,"

  Their hands fell from Luke, and they sidled away. "Not too far," Sarah warned. "I believe the sheriff would like to see all of you."

  Luke looked at his wife. She stood in her nightgown, soft and feminine, her hair like a dark, silky cape around her. Her hands on the gun were steady, and her eyes were hard as rocks.

  Through an aching mouth, Luke began to chuckle. "Damn, Sarah! You're quite a woman."

  ❧

  It didn't take long for Luke and Cal to tie up the men, and Luke loaded them into the wagon. Jackson was moaning piteously, gripping his leg, but Luke merely tied a tourniquet around his thigh to stop the bleeding, fastened his hands, and shoved him into the wagon with the others.

  As soon as he was finished and the danger over, Sarah let the rifle slide from her hands to the floor and sat down heavily on a stack of bales. Luke looked over at her. Her face was white as paper, and he could see her shivering even from a distance. He hurried over to her.

  "You all right?"

  Sarah nodded, but her shivering increased. Luke smiled with pride and affection. You could trust Sarah not to panic in any crisis, but she was too sensitive not to feel it afterward. She had never shot even an animal before, let alone a man. This evening she had been running on sheer nerve.

  He lifted her up and put his arms around her. "You're cold. Come on. I'll walk you back to the house."

  "What about them?"

  Luke swiveled to look at the men trussed up in the wagon. "I don't think they'll go anywhere. Come on, Cal, let's leave them here for a minute to contemplate their future. Then we'll hitch up the team, and I'll take them in to the sheriff."

  They walked back to the house together. "You need something warm inside you," Luke told Sarah.

  "I'll fix some coffee." Sarah concentrated on the mundane. She was afraid she might begin to sob and shake to bits if she really thought about what had just happened.

  Luke set her down at the kitchen table and took out a bottle of whiskey from a high cabinet. He poured a shot for each of them, even a small one for Cal. Luke tossed his down. Cal and Sarah sipped at theirs, making wry faces. Luke smiled and laid his hand on Sarah's head.

  He could hardly believe she was safe. When she had entered the barn, it had almost paralyzed him with fear. Even though she was the one holding a gun, all he could think of was the danger she was in.

  "Why in the hell did you do that?" he asked in a combination of tenderness and irritation. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

  Sarah's head snapped up and she stared at him in disbelief. A little color returned to her cheeks. "They were hurting you! How could you think I wouldn't stop them?"

  His hand caressed her cheek, and he smiled down at her. "Are you all right?"

  "Of course I'm all right." Sarah took another, healthier swig of her drink. Indignation was beginning to wipe away her shock. "You're the one who's been beaten."

  She stood up, her hand going to Luke's face, turning his head this way and that under the light. "I better put something on that cut on your cheek. You're going to have one beauty of a black eye tomorrow, too." She looked at the scrape on his chin.

  "I feel fine." There were aches all over his body and face that Luke knew would begin to hurt like hell later, but right now he hardly noticed them. It was far more important to drink in the sight of Sarah's face, filled with tender love and concern. "I have to take Jackson to James to get the bullet out, anyway. I'll let him look at my cut. All right?"

  "All right."

  Luke sighed. "I better get going before that son of a bitch bleeds to death." He turned to Cal. "You stay here, and look after Sarah and Emily."

  Cal nodded. Luke bent down and put his arms around Cal's shoulders. "You acted like a man tonight, protecting Sarah. I'm proud of you."

  "I'd a killed him if he'd—" The boy's voice cracked.

  "I know you would have. I couldn't ask for a better son." He released the boy and stepped back. "Now, why don't you go up and check on Emily? Make sure she hasn't awakened and gotten scared by the commotion."

  Cal nodded and left the room. Luke suspected he would be glad to reach the sleeping tranquillity of Emily's bedroom. Luke turned back to Sarah.

  "I'm a little surprised you charged in there tonight. I thought you'd about washed your hands of me. You had a right to."

  "How can you say that?" Sarah's eyes were infinitely sad. "Don't you know, even after all this time? I love you. I love you more than anything. Whether you do things I don't want you to or not. Even if you walked away and left me here flat, I'd still love you—and wait for you to come back. You're my life, Luke. You have been for four years, and you will be for the rest of time."

  Luke swallowed. He couldn't speak for a moment. Finally he said, "And I love you."

  "I know."

  He nodded, too full of roiling emotions to express them. "I'll be back soon."

  Sarah sat back down at the table. She took another sip of whiskey. Then she laid her head down on her arms and let herself give way to the shivers.

  ❧

  It was almost one o'clock when Luke returned from town. The light in the kitchen was still on. A small smile touched his lips, Sarah was up waiting for him. He unhitched the wagon and turned the mules loose in the corral, then went inside.

  Sarah sat at the kitchen table, her head pillowed on her arms on the table, sound asleep. Luke stopped abruptly, his hand reaching back to keep the screen door from closing with a bang. He stood quietly, watching Sarah. She looked innocent, almost childlike, in the high-collared white cotton gown, with her hair tumbled down around her face and shoulders, softly sleeping.

  But he knew full well the lushly feminine body beneath the gown, the sensual woman beneath the innocent appearance. A slow smile curved his lips at the thought. God, he felt good right now, male and strong and sure of his world in a way he hadn't known in months. It was as though the events of this evening had burned away his blindness and shocked him out of the grim grip of fear and guilt. This was his life. This was his woman. This was where he belonged.

  Sarah's eyes flickered open as he watched. She glanced up and saw Luke, and she sat up groggily, stretching her cramped muscles. "Hello."

  "HeIlo." Luke continued to watch her.

  Sarah went still. There was something in his eyes...

  Her breath came a little faster in her throat. Anticipation and fear that she was wrong coiled within her. She searched for something to say. But when Luke looked at her like that, there was nothing she could say.

  "Luke?" She rose to her feet.

  "Yes?" He walked toward her slowly. His eyes were on her, intent and direct, as though nothing else existed in the world. In truth, at that moment, nothing did for him. His blood was pumping hard through his veins, thrumming in his ears.

  Sarah waited, her chest rising and falling with each sharp, short breath. Luke stopped inches away from her. She stared up into his eyes, her stomach jumping crazily. There was a deep, compelling hunger in his eyes, and something more-something she hadn't seen in a long time. A s
ureness, an anticipation of satisfaction; the look of a man who not only wanted her, but also who intended to take her to bed and ease that desire.

  She wet her lips a little nervously. His eyes followed the movement, the lids drooping sensually. He brushed the back of his hand down her chest, grazing her breasts with his knuckles. He watched her nipples tighten in response to his touch, and his face shifted subtly. Sarah waited, hardly daring to move lest she break the exquisite intensity of the moment.

  He took her hand in his. "Let's go upstairs."

  Sarah nodded without speaking. Luke picked up the kerosene lamp to light their way, and hand in hand they climbed the stairs to their bedroom. With every step they took, the heavy ache in Sarah's abdomen grew. She knew Luke must feel the faint trembling of her hand in his.

  He did, and knowing that his mere touch aroused her so made his own passion all the more fierce. Months of unfulfilled desire gathered in him, long night after night of lying in bed and aching for Sarah.

  Luke closed the bedroom door behind them and turned to face her. He couldn't say anything, but he didn't need to. Sarah could read in his face how beautiful he found her, how much he wanted her, how deep his love ran. He linked his hands in hers and leaned down to kiss her. Their bodies touched nowhere except their hands and lips, and it was an exquisite, delightful torment. He kissed her as gently as a man might kiss a maiden the first time, with restraint and tenderness, but behind it lay the knowledge of the fierce passion that had so often roared between them. They knew each other, body and soul.

  Luke's hands clenched on hers. His lips burrowed in. Sarah's mouth opened, inviting him in, and his tongue plunged into her. Passion shot through him, as hot, swift, and encompassing as a grass fire. The sweet anticipation of pleasure was gone, burned away in an instant, and Luke was driven by hard need.

  Luke dropped her hands and wrapped his arms around her like a vise. He kissed her deeply, his tongue ravaging her mouth, and his body moved into hers as if he sought to shove right through her skin and become part of her. Blindly he walked her back until they slammed into the closed door His mouth was hungry, undeniable. His body squeezed the breath out of her.

  Sarah gloried in it. She had waited so long and wished so much to feel Luke's male strength, his hungry impatience. She pressed back up into him with all her own strength, twining her arms around his neck and digging her fingers into his shoulders. His shirt gathered beneath her restless, seeking fingers, and she pulled and tugged, aching to feel his naked flesh underneath her fingertips once more.

  Luke moaned, turning his head to slant their kiss the other way, working his lips over hers. His hands came up to dig into her hair, his fingertips pressing against her scalp, bunching her hair up in great hand fu Is. He wanted to look at her, touch her, kiss her, all at once and everywhere. His desire was shattering. Uncontrollable.

  He pulled away, gulping in great draughts of air. He had to have her now. He could not wait for the sweet exploration of the senses; he was too desperate. He looked at Sarah, struggling to bring himself back under control, to take her with time and care. Then he saw in Sarah's eyes that she wanted to wait no more than he. She desired him with the same fierce immediacy. He chuckled, and there was an exultation in the sound. His eyes holding hers, Luke reached out with both hands and hooked them in the neck of her gown. With a single quick motion he tore down and apart, ripping the front of her gown.

  Sarah smiled and shrugged her shoulders to let the gown slide off down her arms. She loved being naked before him. She loved the demand of his gesture.

  She walked around Luke to the bed, her hair swaying invitingly across her hips, and he followed, struggling to get out of his own clothing as he went. His boots were kicked off, his coveralls and underwear dropped as he walked. Buttons popped beneath his fingers, and he cursed softly, vividly, at the impediments of material and fastenings.

  Sarah chuckled and turned to help him. But her fingers were as much hindrance as help, for they were easily sidetracked into exploring the hard brown flesh that each unfastening revealed. With his shirt only half unbuttoned and the cuffs still fastened, her hands left the buttons to slide inside his shirt and roam his chest. Her hands went up to the hard shelf of his collarbone and glided across his shoulders. His skin jumped beneath her touch, and she moved forward to press her lips against his chest. He groaned, and she felt the insistent prodding of his manhood against her bare abdomen.

  Sarah's hands swept down his arms, shoving down his shirt, but it caught at his wrists, the cuffs still fastened, and pooled around his hips. That was enough for her; it bared his chest and arms to her mouth and hands. But it frustrated Luke, hampering his movements, and with an impatient noise he jerked at the final buttons and sent the shirt sliding to the floor.

  He kissed her long and deeply, lifting her into bed as he did so. He slid in beside Sarah and began to kiss her all over, his mouth wild and sweet on her flesh, tasting every bit of the goodness he had denied himself so long. His tongue circled her nipples in loving strokes, turning them hard and thrusting. Softly he blew upon the wet buds and watched them pickle even more. He drew her nipple into the heated cave of his mouth and began to suck gently. Fiery sensations shot down through Sarah into her abdomen, increasing the heat there. Her legs moved restlessly, crossing and uncrossing.

  His hand slipped down and touched the softness between her legs. She was hot and slick with the moisture of desire. His fingers trembled. He could wait no longer. He had to come inside her; had to feel her around him. He rolled on top of her, parting her legs. For an instant he paused, the tip of his engorged shaft teasing at her supremely soft flesh. He gazed down into Sarah's eyes, his look searing into her soul, and then, his eyes still locked to hers, he moved into her.

  Sarah gasped at the first sweet stretching of her tender flesh, the delicate expansion as he pushed into her with infinite slowness. They felt each inch of pleasurable friction, each sparkling sensation as he opened her to him once more, claiming, filling, surrendering. At last he was buried in her fully, and she was hot and tight around him.

  Luke buried his face against her neck. "Oh, my love, my love." His words were barely intelligible. His skin quivered.

  He pulled almost out with equal slowness, and Sarah made a noise of protest, moving her hips up so as not to let him go. He thrust back into her, quick and hard, and she whimpered softly at the mind-robbing pleasure. He began to stroke within her, and Sarah dug in her heels, arching up against him, her hips moving frantically. Her world spun wildly, and she was aware of nothing but the unbelievable pleasure and joy building within her. He thrust into her again and again, hard and fast, racing to the ecstasy that danced tantalizingly just out of his reach. Sarah's legs wrapped around him. Her nails scored his back. He was as unaware of the pain as she was of doing it.

  The knot inside Sarah grew and tightened with each jolt, and she felt as if she were reaching, reaching, desperate for what she knew would come. Then, at last, it exploded within her. A soft noise escaped her lips, and she stiffened beneath him. The soft pulsation of her inner explosion touched off Luke's own, and he groaned, shuddering under the enormous force of his release.

  He collapsed against her, slick with sweat, his skin quivering under the aftershocks of pleasure. "Sarah." She felt his whisper against her skin.

  Sarah wrapped her arms around him tightly. "I love you. I love you."

  She never wanted him to move from her. This was all she needed in the world, Luke had come home to her.

  ❧

  It was later than usual when Sarah awakened the next morning. She was alone in her bed and for one confused, painful moment, she thought she had dreamed last night. Then she saw Luke standing at the window, leaning against the sill and looking out. She lay for a moment, admiring his lean form.

  "Good morning," she said almost shyly.

  He turned, his familiar smile lighting his face. Sarah realized how rarely she had seen that smile the last few months. "Goo
d morning." He strolled back to the bed. "Sleep well?"

  There was a knowing quality to his grin that made Sarah blush even as it set up a warmth in her loins. "Very."

  Luke sat down on the side of the bed and bent to kiss her. "I love you." He brushed her tangled hair back from her face.

  "I know." She smiled up at him and reached up to tenderly touch his bruised face. "Are you all right?"

  He shrugged and shook his head. "It's nothing. I've had a lot worse before. It doesn't even make a dent on how happy I am."

  "Are you? Really? Are you back for good?"

  "For good. And I don't imagine there's any man happier than I am right now."

  Sarah swallowed against the lump in her throat. She had a million questions, but she was afraid to question a miracle. Luke saw the curiosity and the hesitation in her eyes, and he smiled.

  "You're wondering what happened?" Sarah nodded. "I'm not sure exactly. All of a sudden last night I saw how wrong I'd been." He pulled her into his arms and held her, kissing the top of her head. "What a tiger you are! When you burst into that barn last night, your hair flying, wearing just your nightclothes and carrying that rifle—I was so proud of you, so crazy in love with you. You're right. You don't belong on a pedestal. You're real flesh and blood. Not fragile, not an angel. I thought, that's my Sarah, fierce, loyal, and tough as an old boot sometimes. And I knew I wanted what I had: you as you are, not some ideal, not some statue."

  He paused and sighed. "But you scared the hell out of me, too. I could see you getting killed right in front of my eyes. I felt angry and helpless because I couldn't protect you. Afterwards, I realized that no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't protect you from everything. Something like that could happen, no matter how well I guarded you against myself. I finally understood that your life isn't mine to control. I can't make you stay alive if that's what's fated for you. I could lose you for a hundred other reasons, and all I'd get from staying away from you is making whatever time we have together miserable."