“I don’t care. I’m…I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know. Ghosts, maybe.”
Creed grunted. He didn’t have the heart to send her back to her own bed, not if she was really scared, but he knew there was no way he was going to get any sleep with her lying there beside him. No way at all.
Nevertheless, he turned his back to her and closed his eyes.
She stirred beside him, her body brushing against his as she curled up against him.
Her scent rose all around him, warm and sleepy, soft and feminine. Alluring. Desirable.
He swore under his breath. If there was indeed a hell, no doubt he would burn in it for all eternity for his thoughts alone.
He woke before dawn to find Jassy’s arms and legs entwined with his. Her hair was spread over his arm like a living flame. Her skin was slightly flushed; a faint smile played over her lips. He would have given a month’s pay to know what she was dreaming about.
And then she murmured his name, her voice thick with unfulfilled desire, and he knew. He tried to ignore his body’s instant reaction, but she was too near, too tempting. Unable to help himself, he rolled onto his side, gathered her into his arms, and kissed her.
He had meant it to be a quick, passionless kiss, but as soon as his mouth covered hers, he was lost, drowning in sweetness.
He was holding her, kissing her, whispering her name. The words became clearer, the shadows became substance. She was aware of the gentle abrasion of whiskers against her cheek. She drew a long shuddering breath and inhaled the scent of man and sweat and dust… She heard a moan, and realized it wasn’t hers…
Jassy’s eyelids flew open as her dream merged with reality, and she realized that Creed was indeed holding her, kissing her.
Her arms slid around his neck, drawing him closer. Pressing herself against him, she parted her lips and let her tongue taste his. And suddenly she was holding empty air.
Creed swore softly as he scrambled to his feet. Another minute and she would have been his in every sense of the word. And then what? Once he had taken her innocence, he would never be able to let her go.
Jassy sat up, looking confused. “Creed, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Nothing, he thought ruefully. How was he going to keep his hands off her when she came alive at the slightest touch, when she offered herself to him without hesitation? She was like fire and silk in his arms, hot and soft and smooth.
Turning on his heel, he headed for the river.
“Creed, where are you going?”
He paused, but didn’t look at her. “I’m going to take a… I need some privacy, so unless you want a first-class education in male anatomy, don’t follow me.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he fixed her with a warning stare, then headed for the river. He doused his head and neck in the chill water, then sat back on his heels, his gaze fixed on the opposite bank.
If his calculations were right, they weren’t more than twenty or thirty miles from Rock Springs. If they rode hard, they could be there late tomorrow afternoon. With luck, he could sell their horses for enough money to buy some decent clothes for the two of them and have enough left over for a couple of second-class tickets on the Union Pacific. Three days on the train should get them into Sacramento. From there, they would take a stage into Frisco. He’d find Rose, get his money back, get Jassy settled someplace, and clear out of her life once and for all.
He’d miss her, though. Still, it was for her own good. He was never going to amount to anything, and she deserved a decent life, marriage to a respectable, church-going, stay-in-one-place man, a home of her own, children. What did he know about any of those things? He had never been respectable and never would be. Worse, he had no desire to be respectable. He had never been one for going to church. Never had a home of his own. Didn’t want children.
But he wanted Jassy. There was no question about that. Wanted her with every breath he took, with every beat of his heart. What was worse, he needed her. He, who had never needed anyone, found himself needing this woman-child in ways he didn’t even fully comprehend.
Muttering an oath, he surged to his feet. He would never be good for her. He had ever been good for any one. But Jassy deserved the best, and he aimed to see she got it. The sooner the better.
She was sitting on her bedroll when he returned to camp.
“Let’s go,” he said curtly. “We’ve got a lot of riding to do today.”
“What about breakfast?”
“We’ll eat on the trail.”
“But…”
“Don’t argue with me, Jasmine.”
Jasmine! He had never called her that. Confused at his anger, she rolled her bedding into a compact cylinder and tied it behind the saddle. She braided her hair, pulled on her moccasins, saddled her horse, all without speaking to him. Head high, chin jutting out, she dug a piece of jerky out of her saddlebags, then climbed into the saddle.
Moments later, they were riding north.
*
Jassy stared at Creed, wondering what was wrong. Ever since she had flirted with him beside the stream, he had been trying to ignore her. At first, she had thought he was angry with her, but he didn’t seem angry, just withdrawn. His face was like something cast in stone, hard and unyielding. He spoke only when necessary. Insisted they ride from dawn ’til dark, and then, as soon as they’d eaten and the horses were settled for the night, he had taken refuge in his bedroll, pretending to be asleep even though she knew he was awake. Awake and on edge, just as she was.
The attraction between them hummed like a telegraph line, sizzling like summer lightning. He had only to look at her, and her whole being seemed to come alive. Colors were brighter, sounds more clear. Her skin tingled with longing whenever he was within reach, though he made a determined effort not to touch her in any way.
He had kissed her. Kissed her and liked it. And she wanted more. More of his kisses, more of everything.
He had told her they would reach Rock Springs sometime tomorrow, that they were taking a train to San Francisco. But Jassy had lost all interest in finding Rose. The money was no longer important. Nothing mattered except Creed and the wall he was erecting between them.
She stared at his profile, mentally running her fingers through his hair, tracing the hard planes of his face, lingering on the sensual line of his mouth.
Tonight, she thought, tonight she would find out what was wrong. One way or another, she would find out.
She was up to something, he could smell it in the air, the same way he smelled the promise of rain before the night was over.
He had been aware of her covert glances all day. Even now, as she spread their bedrolls beside the fire, he could feel her furtive gaze. She was as nervous as a new bride…
He swore softly. What the hell had made him think of that?
Lurching to his feet, he headed for the shallow waterhole located a short distance from their campsite.
“Creed?”
Her voice stopped him in his tracks. “What?” He didn’t look at her, merely waited.
“Will you be gone long?”
“I don’t know.”
He waited a moment, to see if she had anything else to say, then stalked into the darkness. He was burning up inside, he thought. His blood was on fire. His skin felt tight. And he ached. Oh, how he ached for her.
He flopped down on his belly at the waterhole and buried his face in the cool water. Jassy. She was like a song he couldn’t get out of his mind. Her sweetness, her ready acceptance of him in spite of who and what he was, drew him like a lodestone. He wished suddenly that he could be the man she wanted, the man she deserved.
For the first time in his life, he regretted the choices he had made, the kind of life he had lived. The ghosts of the men he’d hunted rose to haunt him, their skeletal faces accusing and damming. There was blood on his hands, on his soul, and he would never be free of it, any more than he would ever be free of his
past, of the fact that he was an escaped convict, a man on the dodge…
He swore under his breath. Life had been so uncomplicated before he met Jassy McCloud, and yet he knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t give up a minute of the time he had spent with her.
Sitting up, he shook the water from his face and hair, then prowled the darkness, edgy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. He paced for almost an hour to give her time to get to sleep, and then he padded silently back to camp.
The first thing he noticed was that there was only one bedroll, and Jassy was in it, her hair a riot of color against the dull brown blanket.
A muffled oath escaped his lips as he stared at her, his breath catching in his throat as she slowly sat up, letting the covers pool around her waist.
The firelight caressed her, glinting in her hair, shimmering on her naked shoulders and breasts. Wordlessly, she held out her arms, the silent invitation as old as time.
His feet felt like lead as he moved toward her. His voice was ragged as he whispered her name, and then he dropped to his knees beside her and wrapped her in his arms. Her skin was warm and moist. Inviting. Tempting.
He felt her arms go around his waist, heard his name on her lips, and then she was kissing him, pressing her body to his, drawing him down onto the blankets.
A distant corner of his mind told him this was wrong, urged him to resist, but the passion of her kisses made his blood flow hot and thick, like lava, drowning out everything but the taste of her, the touch of her.
He covered her body with his, his hands gliding over her silky flesh, his mouth hot and hungry as he kissed her. He was a condemned man, and she was his only hope of salvation.
His arms tightened around her as he deepened the kiss, his tongue searching for hers. A muffled groan of pain and pleasure was trapped in his throat as her tongue met his, inviting him to taste, to explore.
Her hands roamed over his back and shoulders and chest, nervous, eager. She delved under his buckskin shirt, moaning softly as her fingertips came in contact with warm skin. She heard the sharp intake of his breath as her hands skimmed across his chest.
He wanted her. Every kiss told her so. She could feel it in the tension that caused him to tremble, in the sudden hard heat pressed against her belly. Hear it in the harsh rasp of his voice as he murmured her name, the sound filled yearning, with need.
And she was trembling, too, longing for something she didn’t quite understand. She wasn’t ignorant of the act itself, but no one had ever told her of the wild tumble of emotions that accompanied the act of love. She felt afraid, excited, eager. And in the very depths of her being, she felt the need to give, to soothe Creed’s doubts, to give him the love she knew he had never had.
She tugged on his shirt, and he shrugged it off. The touch of his bare flesh against her own was exhilarating, and she drew him closer. His skin was dark bronze; hers was translucent ivory. He was strong and hard; she was yielding and soft.
She gazed into the smoky depths of his eyes and saw her own yearnings, her own hunger, mirrored there. But, more than that, she saw doubts. His doubts.
Hoping to erase his misgivings once and for all, she murmured that she loved him.
She had hoped to make him smile. She had thought he might reply that he loved her, too.
She did not expect him to draw back as if he had been slapped.
Creed stared down at Jassy for a long moment. Her lips were bruised from his kisses, her eyes glowed with the flame of desire. He knew in that instant that he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t take her innocence. She was only seventeen, with her whole life ahead of her. She deserved more out of life than a used-up half-breed gunfighter.
“Don’t, Jassy,” he said curtly.
“Don’t what?”
She reached for his hand, but he caught both of hers in one of his, his grip merciless.
“I won’t let you waste your love on a man like me,” he said.
And releasing her hands, he threw the covers over her and walked away.
“Creed! Damn you, Creed Maddigan, don’t you dare turn your back on me!”
“Go to sleep.”
“No.”
He refused to look at her, knowing how dangerous it would be, knowing he would be sorely tempted to forget his good intentions and crawl back under the covers. ”Dammit, Jassy, do what I say!”
“You’re not my father.” Her eyes narrowed angrily. “Or my husband! You can’t tell me what to do.”
He started to turn, then caught himself. Don’t look at her, he told himself. You’ll be fine if you just don’t look at her.
“I want you,” she said softly. “I love you and I want you, and I know you want me.”
“I want a lot of things.”
“Please, Creed, don’t shut me out.”
“This was a mistake from the beginning, Jassy. I’m no good for you. I never have been. I thought…” He blew out a long, weary sigh. “Hell, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
“It matters to me.”
He turned to face her then, his eyes dark and haunted. “Jassy, you don’t know anything about me.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “Just listen. I’m a wanted man, and nothing’s going to change that. I thought if I took you far enough away, it wouldn’t matter. But it won’t work. I can’t ask you to spend the rest of your life on the run, always looking over your shoulder because of something I did…”
“Creed, you’re forgetting about the letter from Judge Parker! He said he’d look into your case. We could go back. I could tell him what I saw…”
“No, Jassy. I’ve made up my mind.”
“But…”
He shook his head. He should have left her in Harrison, he thought bleakly. At the time, he had convinced himself that he was doing the right thing, rationalizing that he couldn’t walk out on her, that he couldn’t leave her alone. He knew now it had been a mistake. She had been captured by Indians because he had been too damned selfish to leave her behind. If Chah-ee-chopes hadn’t taken a liking to her, Jassy could have been killed, or worse. Somehow, he had to make her understand.
“Jassy, Harry’s not the only man I ever killed. If Parker starts nosin’ around in my past, there’s no telling what skeletons he’s liable to dig up.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me that before?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It didn’t seem important at the time, and then…I guess I just didn’t want you to know.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. It had all happened so long ago, he hardly ever thought about it anymore, but it was there, a dark shadow in his past, the only killing he had ever been ashamed of.
“And now you want me to think you’re all bad, is that right?”
“Think whatever you like.”
“I don’t understand you, Creed Maddigan,” she exclaimed, her anger rising. “You keep telling me you’re no good for me, that I’m too young. Well, you’re wrong! I’m not too young. A lot of girls are married and have a couple of kids by the time they’re my age. And as for your not being good enough for me…” She shook her head. “My mother was a whore, Creed. Maybe what you really mean is that I’m not good enough for you!”
“Dammit, Jassy, that’s not true and you know it! And in spite of the way you grew up, you’re still just a kid, and if you don’t want to end up like your mother, then you’d best hang on to your virginity for as long as you can!”
There was no use arguing with him, not now, when they were both angry, when anything she said would only make him more determined to leave her behind.
“Very well, Creed,” she said with feigned resignation. “If that’s the way you want it.”
“It is.”
She gave him a long, accusing look and then, with a sniff, she turned her back to him and closed her eyes. That might be the way he wanted it, she thought, but that wasn’t the way it was going to be.
She smiled into the darkness. She might have lost
the battle, but she was determined to win the war.
Chapter Twenty-One
Creed’s gaze darted left and right as they rode down the dusty street that was Rock Springs main thoroughfare. Back in the 1860s, Rock Springs had been a trading post and stage coach station on the Oregon Trail. Now it was a coal mining town for the Union Pacific Coal Company. The population, mostly male, numbered at less than two hundred people.
Four years had passed since peace had been made between the settlers and the Sioux. In that same year, 1868, Wyoming had been organized as a Territory. A year later, the new Territory had granted women the right to vote.
Even though Rock Springs wasn’t much of a town, and they were pretty far from Harrison, there was always a possibility that a wanted poster carrying his description might turn up, although he thought the chances were slim. But there was no help for it, they were out of supplies and out of money. He’d sell the horses and buy two tickets to Sacramento. For Jassy’s sake, the sooner he got her settled and got the hell out of her life, the better. For both of them.
There was only one store in town. Located on the south side of the tracks, it was officially known as the Beckwith Quinn Store, but everybody called it the Big Store.
Creed had never seen the place before now, but he’d heard about it. Besides being the Company Store for the mine, it housed the Mine Office and the Post Office. It was also the undertaking parlor, with the delivery wagon doubling as a hearse when necessary. The Big Store sold everything from blasting powder to clothing, mining tools to groceries. When the miners needed entertainment, they used the counters for a stage and danced in the aisles.
Jassy wandered through the store while Creed haggled with the owner about what their horses and saddles were worth. There were several men in the place, and they all turned to stare at her.
Feeling uncomfortable, she made her way back to Creed, who was waiting for her near the door.
“Did you get a good deal?” she asked.
“Good enough to get us a couple of train tickets and a change of clothes.”
Jassy nodded, trying not to notice the way the miners were staring at her. Creed didn’t look too out of place in buckskins, but she was acutely conscious of her fringed doeskin dress and moccasins.
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