Jed (The Rock Creek Six Book 4)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Hannah closed her eyes and brushed her cheek against Jed’s chest.

  “But I’m glad he didn’t,” Jed said softly, his voice a bit calmer. “If he had, you wouldn’t be here now.”

  He liked her. She knew it was true, as he held her and told her he was glad she was here, trapped inside the rock with him.

  “I can’t believe I told you all that,” she said. “I’ve never told anyone what happened that night.”

  “I guess I’m just an easy man to talk to.”

  “You are,” she agreed, making herself more comfortable against his chest. “And right now that night seems like... like such a long time ago.” An age ago, not worth secret tears or a lifetime of regret.

  Hannah was about to doze off when Jed’s voice intruded on her half sleep. “If we get out of here, is tonight going to be one of your regrets?”

  “No,” she answered without hesitation and with a soft smile on her face.

  Chapter 12

  Hannah woke slowly, remembering as she came awake where she was, how dire the circumstances were. She didn’t feel at all frantic. Her nose was buried in Jed’s warm chest, his arms encircled her, and her legs were entwined with his. The ground was hard, the air cold, and her muscles ached from walking through the sloping tunnels and sleeping on a bed of rock.

  She felt oddly wonderful.

  “You’re awake,” Jed whispered.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “Did you sleep at all?”

  “A little.”

  She had no idea if it was day or night; she couldn’t begin to decipher how much time had passed since she’d fallen asleep in Jed’s arms.

  Soon they would have to get up and resume their trek through the caverns, waiting for a speck of light or a hint of wind to reveal another exit. If there was one.

  But for now... For now she was content to lie here, warm in the cold cave, Jed’s arms protecting her from the hard, harsh rock.

  His hands rubbed up and down her back, the movement slow and comforting. She closed her eyes and savored the caress of those big hands as they dipped lower to cup her backside and pull her tighter against him.

  So close against Jed’s body, chest-to-chest and thigh-to-thigh, she felt almost a part of him, as if she could dissolve and seep into him. His arms were strong and held her close. The length of his manhood pressed against her, hard and insistent.

  He wanted her. There was no ulterior motive to his desire, no secrets behind the need. He wanted her. It was a simple emotion, an uncomplicated passion.

  She wanted him, too, more than she’d ever thought possible.

  When he tilted her head back and kissed her, she met his ardor without restraint. Lips parted, tongue searching, she gave herself over to the intense physical need that coursed through her quickly and easily.

  Perhaps she should be shy, demure and coy, but that had never been her way. And what she felt demanded boldness. A hungry parting of her lips, a raw exploration of Jed’s mouth with her tongue.

  Without reserve, she laid her hand over the evidence of his desire, the long, hard length beneath his buckskin trousers, and as he kissed her deeply, she trailed her fingers up the length and back down again. He shuddered, faintly, from the lips that captured hers to the long leg that draped possessively over hers.

  Jed pushed up her skirt and laid his hand on her thigh, trailing his palm up to caress her bare backside and pull her even closer. Impossibly closer. Her body tingled in anticipation; she quivered from the inside out.

  Working entirely from feel, she began to unfasten the buttons that restrained him. It was a slow process, but one by one she managed, her fingers working deftly and without hurry.

  Jed lifted her leg and moved it so her thigh draped over his hip, bringing them even closer together. Her body throbbed, her heart increased its pace and pounded hard as she pressed her chest to his and crooked her thigh higher, raking it up his side.

  His hand grazed up her leg, from her knee to the bare flesh of her inner thigh. A large, rough palm rested there for a moment as they kissed, and then he touched her intimately. He found the sensitive nub near her damp entrance and stroked it until she trembled with the need to have him inside her. Her body quaked at its core, in anticipation and in urgency.

  She couldn’t tell Jed that she loved him, though she was beginning to suspect it was the truth. He had stirred her blood in one way or another since the moment they’d met. What they had was more than physical. He made her angry, and happy, and he brightened her whole world with a word or a grin. Jed brought her alive for the first time in her life. She had certainly never felt this way about any man before.

  No, she couldn’t tell him that she loved him, but she could return last night’s compliment without giving away too much. “Jed Rourke,” she whispered, “you take my breath away.”

  He entered her then, pushing himself inside her slowly, stretching her impossibly. The sensation erased all thoughts of love and dire circumstances, until there was only this.

  He stroked her languidly, rocking against and into her without the impatience she herself felt. Heavens, he really did take her breath away. She rocked into him, trying to urge him deeper, threading her fingers through his hair and holding on tight as if that would somehow help. His pace increased in time with the urgency she felt growing with every thrust.

  With a growl, he smoothly rolled her onto her back, thrusting deep to fill her completely. She cried out as almost immediately an intense pleasure billowed through her. She felt Jed’s fulfillment as she cried out, delighted in the shudder and the release deep inside her body the way she delighted in every other sensation he’d introduced her to. She arched her back, determined to savor every tremor, every lingering quiver of their shared pleasure.

  He drifted down to cover her heavily, to breathe deeply in her ear and kiss her neck, there just beneath the earlobe. All was heavenly, until she suddenly realized that it was much colder than it had been a few moments ago.

  “Oh,” she muttered, then louder. “Oh!”

  “What’s wrong?” Jed asked, lifting his weight from her body.

  “I rolled off your coat,” she said quickly.

  He remedied the situation immediately, whirling onto his back and carrying her with him. When they came to a stop she rested atop him, her head on his chest, her legs straddling him.

  “Well, this is a rather interesting position,” she whispered as Jed grabbed her cloak and covered them both with it.

  “Hannah Winters,” he said softly, “you are a wicked woman.”

  “Complaining?” she asked.

  “No,” he whispered.

  For a few moments they lay there, together and warm and satisfied. Soon it would be time to move on; she knew that. She also knew that if anyone could find a way out of here, it was Jed Rourke.

  He tensed beneath her. “Did you hear that?”

  “No.”

  Moving quickly, he set her aside and rose to his feet. “Listen,” he whispered.

  As she righted her clothes she did listen, straining. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Give me your hand,” Jed ordered, and she obeyed, lifting her arm, knowing he would find it in the dark. He did, grasping her hand firmly and assisting her to her feet. “Time to move on.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  By feel alone they found and donned their outer garments, her velvet cloak and his buckskin coat, the rifle and leather scabbard. They never drifted far apart. Wandering too far apart in this darkness could be disastrous. She could not imagine being lost in this inky enclosure without Jed.

  He found her face with his fingers and kissed her quickly. Trailing those fingers over her shoulder and down her arm, he found and clasped her hand.

  “Let’s get out of here, darlin’.”

  * * *

  He struck a match to get his bearings. Without a hint of light, he and Hannah might wander around in this chamber without ever finding their way out.

  Going
by the position of the torch that he’d jammed into a crevice, he noted the tunnel they’d emerged from. At the opposite end of the cavern there were two other tunnel entrances.

  He glanced down at Hannah just before the flame reached his fingers. Her hair was in tangles, she was covered with dust and dirt, and her clothes were ripped and in disarray.

  And she was so beautiful his heart damn near stopped.

  Holding Hannah’s hand, he picked a tunnel. There was nothing to do but forge forward, putting one foot in front of the other and hoping for the best. They hadn’t gone far when the tunnel narrowed, and he and Hannah could no longer proceed side by side.

  “Grab on to my coat, like you did yesterday,” he said, resting one hand against the wall and reluctantly releasing his hold on Hannah. His fingers drifted over her palm as she took her hand from his.

  She obeyed without question, grabbing on to his coat, and they proceeded with caution. She stayed closer today than she had yesterday, her body so near to his he could feel the brush of her breasts against his back. There were no tears, no weepy questions about whether or not they’d ever get out of here.... She just held on and followed silently. Damn, what a woman.

  The path they were on definitely led up. He took careful steps, to keep from tripping over some unseen obstacle as he made his way up the dark pathway.

  They’d been walking for at least a quarter of an hour before he heard it again. A noise. A voice. His name.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked, his voice low.

  “Yes,” Hannah whispered.

  He struck the last match and held it before him. The path led straight ahead and slightly upward. Before he could move forward or shake out the match, a faint gust of wind drifting through the tunnel blew out the flame. In the renewed darkness, he grinned widely.

  “We’re going to make it out of here, Hannah,” he said as he stepped confidently forward.

  “Of course we are.” She sounded not at all surprised.

  It wasn’t long before a hint of light made the darkness not quite complete. Shadows took the place of inky black. He could see the shape of his hand against the wall.

  And someone called his name again.

  “We’re here!” he shouted.

  There was no place to go but straight ahead. The light increased as they went, and so did the breeze. The medley of gruff voices, prettier than any music he’d ever heard, grew louder.

  They could see the tunnel ahead, now, and still Hannah didn’t release her hold on him. He didn’t want her to. They stepped up and into a wide chamber much like the one they’d spent the night in. Sunlight spilled in from a crevice fifty feet above and laid its bright, beautiful mark on the cavern floor. Jed looked up and saw a couple of familiar faces looking down.

  Rico grinned, and Sullivan swore softly.

  “I knew if anyone could find us, it would be you two,” Jed said gratefully.

  “Miss Winters is with you?” Sullivan asked.

  In answer, Hannah peeked around Jed’s side. She continued to hold on tight. “I’m here.”

  Rico tossed down one end of a rope, and Jed set about tying it around Hannah’s waist. He double-checked each knot, and tied the rope around twice, just to be safe. When he was satisfied that she was securely and safely hitched, he laid his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You ready?”

  “For anything,” she whispered, grabbing on to the rope with both hands.

  He grinned and gave the order to pull her up. Immediately, she was jerked off her feet and hauled up. He held his breath as he watched her dangling in the air, and breathed again only when he saw that Reese was there to help her once she’d reached the gap in the rock above.

  Moments later the rope dropped again, and Sullivan stuck his head through the aperture.

  “Tie yourself up good, Jed. It’s going to take all of us to lift you out of there.”

  He quickly cinched himself up tight, and then lifted one hand and gave the okay.

  His skyward movement was considerably slower than Hannah’s had been, but then he weighed almost twice as much as she did. When he was close to the top he began to climb, hand over hand, toward the bright sunlight.

  The light hurt his eyes, but the sun on his face was warmer, more wonderful than he could’ve imagined. When he reached the top and hauled himself onto the rock, Reese and Hannah were there to help him the rest of the way out.

  By the light of day he saw that Hannah wasn’t only disheveled and dusty, she had a hell of a beard burn on her chin and one cheek. Her fair skin was no match for his whiskers.

  And she looked at him with such clear, fearless eyes, her tangled hair catching the rays of the sun and turning flame red.

  Rico and Sullivan dropped the rope and came forward, tired smiles on their faces.

  “What happened?” Sullivan asked. “Miss Winters’s rented horse came back to the livery on its own; then Benedict came into town last night and said the horse you bought from him yesterday showed up at his place saddled but riderless.”

  Hannah stepped around Reese, and Jed placed a tired arm casually over her shoulder. “Someone lured Hannah out here with a note saying they knew who really killed Clancy. They tried to kill her.”

  “And you?” Sullivan asked.

  “I came out here after I found this.” He dug deep in his pocket and pulled out the crumpled note. “There were two of them.”

  Sullivan studied the note with a frown on his face. “You found this where?” he asked.

  “In her room.”

  Sullivan glanced up and raised his eyebrows in a silent question Jed was not ready to answer.

  “We tracked the horses here at sunup and saw the cave-in,” Rico said as Sullivan reread the note. “Spent the rest of the morning looking for another opening.” He smiled. “We should have known you would find your way out.”

  “Whoever lured me here is no doubt the real killer,” Hannah said sharply. “Now, do you all believe me?”

  The guys looked skeptical, still.

  “Might not make a difference,” Sullivan said lowly. “The trial is underway. It may even be over.”

  “I’m Baxter’s counsel,” Hannah snapped. “They wouldn’t dare start without me.”

  Sullivan shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

  “Where are the horses?” Jed asked, leading Hannah away from the opening in the rock.

  “Down the hill,” Rico said, pointing.

  They all followed Rico down the rocky path, over loose stones and natural stair-steps, and down sheer, short drops. He never completely let go of Hannah.

  At the base of the hill were four horses. The three the guys had ridden out that morning, and Jed’s new sorrel.

  Jed pointed to the grouping of rocks where the bushwhackers had hidden. “They were there, two shooters,” he said. “You should be able to track them. Don’t kill them when you find ‘em, though. I’d like that privilege for myself.”

  Jed briefly patted the sorrel on the neck, then stepped into the stirrup and hoisted himself into the saddle. Looking down, he offered his hand to Hannah. Without hesitation she took it, and he quickly and easily hauled her up and dropped her in his lap, both legs dangling to one side as if he were her own personal sidesaddle.

  “We’re going to see if we can’t stop a trial.”

  “It’s not enough,” Sullivan said as he mounted his own horse smoothly.

  “What do you mean it’s not enough?” Hannah asked, her voice tired but still strong enough to be piercing.

  Sullivan set calm eyes on her. “What happened to you would be enough to make me think twice, but I’m afraid it’s too late for that. Everything is in the judge’s hands now, and he’ll either claim that you’re making up the story to get Baxter off, or that what happened had nothing to do with Clancy’s murder.”

  “But why else...”

  “Save your arguments for the judge, Miss Winters,” Sullivan interrupted. “I’d suggest you hurry.”
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  Jed grabbed the reins and Hannah and whirled the sorrel around to race to town.

  * * *

  The ride from Wishing Rock to Rock Creek had been fast and furious, but Hannah had not been afraid as the ground flew past. Jed held her tight, and she felt no fear. Her mind had flown as the horse had, over what had happened last night and what was still to happen today.

  It looked as if every resident of Rock Creek had crowded into the hotel lobby, which had been converted to a courtroom for the day. Eyes were trained unerringly forward; no one looked Hannah’s way as she tried to make her way to the front of the room.

  She ached all over, she was starving, her mouth and throat were dry, but there was no time to even think about her discomfort. Time was quickly running out. The foreman of the jury stood.

  “Wait,” she said, but her voice was weak, too dry to be strong enough to be heard in this crowd.

  The foreman read the verdict. Guilty. Hannah stopped in the middle of the room as the spectators nodded in satisfaction. She was too late.

  Jed stood beside her, silent and pensive. God, she wanted to fall into him; she wanted to hide her face in his chest and cry. She had come here to help her sister, and she had failed miserably.

  Rose shot to her feet. “I can’t let you do this,” she said, her voice stronger than Hannah’s had been.

  Baxter, who had shown no emotion upon the reading of the verdict, rose to his feet and pointed at Rose. “Sit down and shut up.”

  Staring at Baxter, Rose shook her head. “No.” She turned her eyes to the judge. Her face went ghostly white, and she looked as if she might keel over at any moment. She seemed to reel on her feet. “My husband didn’t kill anyone. I stabbed Reverend Clancy.”

  “Rose, sit down.” Baxter turned to the judge himself. “Excuse my wife, your honor. She’s hysterical; that’s all I can say. The jury had it right.” He lifted his chin defiantly. “I killed Reverend Clancy, and good riddance.”

  “No,” Rose shouted. “He’s covering for me; can’t you see that?”