by Jodi Thomas
“Gag him,” Mariah added, and smiled at the instant hostility exploded in his face.
As Dusty opened his mouth to protest, Ruth wrapped a napkin across his face, quieting the yell to a mumble.
Mariah pushed the gun barrel into his ribcage and pushed him toward the back door. “Ruth, we’ll be in Dusty’s cabin discussing a few things. If anyone asks, you haven’t seen us.”
Ruth nodded and turned to clear the breakfast dishes, as if kidnapping were becoming the morning activity in this house.
Mariah shoved Dusty between the trees and up the steps to his cabin. “Don’t give me any trouble, or I’ll put an end to this partnership right quick.”
Dusty stumbled into the room that had been his refuge from the world for years. He jerked at his gag and had it almost off when Mariah, using all her strength, shoved him violently toward the bed. She tied a loose end of the dish towel to one huge trunk of the four-poster bed.
“Stand still or you’ll be needing that gag to wipe up your blood.”
Dusty gave up the protest and relaxed. She could see the playful anger in his gaze turning to passion and was thankful he was tied up, or she would have once again had trouble talking to him.
“If I remove the gag, will you promise to talk without yelling at me?”
Dusty nodded slowly.
Mariah pulled the gag from his mouth. “Now, you’re going to stay here and talk to me or, so help me, I’ll leave you tied until you starve.”
“All right, Mariah, you’ve made your point. I’ll hear you out.” He twisted and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Mariah pulled up a cane chair and pointed the gun away from him for the first time. She stretched her boots out beside him and crossed her legs so that the side of her boot rested against his thigh. Mariah smiled at the reaction just her light touch had on the darkening of his eyes.
Mariah cleared her throat to sound very businesslike. “I’ve watched my mother work with sick and wounded people all my life. When I was no more than three, I remember wishing I could do what she did. I’ve learned the herbs and mixtures she learned from her mother, but I want to know more. I want, clear to my bones, to be a doctor. A few years ago, Boston opened its medical school to women and I’m going.”
When Dusty didn’t interrupt, Mariah continued. “I never wanted to sell the ranch to anyone but you. I would have sold it for a fraction of what it’s worth if you’d offered me enough for two years of school.”
“I don’t need your charity,” Dusty answered. “I could have offered you a fair price, but you already had another buyer.”
“Stop it, Dusty. You’re getting off the subject again. I looked at your books, and with the bad winter last year, you have little capital.”
“I’d have enough. You’re not selling your half to anyone…including me.”
Mariah’s cheeks reddened in anger. “There you go again, telling me what I can and can’t do. Where is it written in Ben Weston’s will that you have controlling interest?” She laid the gun on the floor and stood at eye level with him. Pushing her finger into his chest, she demanded. “Just because I’m in love with you doesn’t mean I’m going to give up everything that’s important to me and settle for being a ranch wife for the rest of my life.”
“What did you say?” Dusty pulled at his bonds.
“I said, you thick-brained cowhand, that just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m going to give up everything that’s important to me.”
Dusty yanked the towel away from his hands and pulled Mariah over onto the bed as she screamed in surprise. She twisted to face him and found he was smiling down at her.
“How did you…?”
“Ruth never could tie a knot worth anything.” Dusty laughed. “Now, what was that you said about loving me?”
“We were talking about my selling the ranch.”
“We were talking about you loving me,” Dusty corrected.
Mariah tried to wriggle free of him. “That’s another thing I hate about you; you always change the subject whenever it suits you.”
“Mariah, did you or did you not say you loved me?”
“I’ve changed my mind. I would have to be insane to love someone who…”
Dusty stopped her words with his kiss. He spread his body over hers and kissed her with a passion that was born of anger and matured in slow understanding. He forced her lips to open to his desire. Mariah let out a soft cry as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her. His kiss deepened as she returned his passion with her own. She moved her fingers into his hair as his hands encircled her waist.
Dusty showered her face with kisses then moved to her ear. “You love me, Mariah. Say it, again.” As he whispered, his fingers slid under her blouse and touched her bare skin.
“I love you,” Mariah whispered. “I do love you.”
Dusty returned to her mouth with a feathery kiss that drove her mad as he brushed her breasts lightly with his fingers.
Mariah pulled at his shirt, for her need to touch him was a fire inside her. “Love me, Dusty. Please, love me.”
Any control Dusty had left was lost when she pleaded. He had loved her all her life, and he couldn’t stop to reason now. For the first time in his life he felt himself coming home, belonging to someone. She might yell and fight like a wildcat, but in his arms there was no mistaking her right to belong. No woman would ever feel so wonderful by his side. No woman would ever make him feel like Mariah did. Good or bad, yelling or loving, he was totally alive when she was near, and any life without her would be a walking death.
Dusty made love to Mariah with a fiery passion that molded them forever into one. He took and gave in a blending of harmony that created a melody of love for her to follow. A love that drew its roots from childhood grew into a passion that filled both their hearts with pleasure.
Mariah cried in pain and ecstasy as he entered her, for never would she be totally her own person again. A part of her would always belong to him, just as a part of him would always be hers. She loved him beyond and in spite of all that had gone between them. He was the only man who had ever broken the wall she’d built around herself for protection. He was the only man she’d ever wanted. She knew, even as he moved within her, that the need for him was building and would take a lifetime of loving to satisfy. She needed this man as she had needed no other, not just in bed, but in her life.
When their passion was spent, Mariah nestled into his arms and fell asleep. Her black hair spilled over his tanned shoulder as he pulled the covers over their nude bodies.
When she awoke, the shadows were long into afternoon and Dusty was not by her side. Mariah rolled over, feeling a sudden panic. She relaxed as she saw him kneeling by the fireplace.
Dusty turned to smile as he heard her sigh. “I thought I’d better build a fire to take the chill off the evening.”
“I’m not cold.” Mariah felt her body warm at just the sight of him standing before her with only his pants on. His chest was a network of strong muscles and light brown hair.
He moved the few steps to the bed as she pulled the covers just over her breasts. He leaned to kiss her lightly on the head. “Are you hungry? I could go up to the house and find something to eat.”
Mariah ran her finger down the middle of his chest and circled the scar just above his waist. “You were hurt there during the Indian attack when I was two.” Mariah stretched and touched his hair just above his ear. “I remember a bandage across your head also.”
“You were too young to remember.” Dusty laughed.
“No, I remember.” Mariah’s fingers brushed lightly just above his pants’ waistband.
Mariah’s fingers were warm, and Dusty felt suddenly out of breath. He tried to keep his breathing normal as he whispered, “I remember you slept at the foot of my bed, afraid to leave.”
“If you were hurt again, I might do so once more.” Dusty tugged at the blanket to reveal more of Mariah’s creamy white breasts to his hu
ngry eyes. “It would be worth being so near death, if I were sure to find you in my bed when I awoke.”
Mariah laughed and slid under the covers. Dusty dove into the bundle of quilts and pulled her face free. “I love you, Mariah Weston. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone in my life.” He pushed her hair away from her face. “If I thought I could hold you by tying you to this bed, I’d give it a try.”
Mariah pulled the covers down until her breasts were touching his bare chest. She moved her hands along his sides in a slow, arousing play.
Dusty stopped her action. “Tell me you love me, Mariah. I want to hear the words once more.”
“I love you. Dear God, how I love you…but I haven’t changed my mind about going to medical school.” Mariah had to be honest even at the risk of spoiling the moment.
Dusty laughed, but there was little joy in his laughter. “I thought about it for an hour while I watched you sleep. I know the only way I have a chance at ever holding you is to let you go.” He kissed her tenderly on the mouth, and when she would have spoken, he silenced her with another kiss.
He stood and pulled his shirt on. “I’ll go get something to eat and a pot of hot coffee. We’ve got a lot of talking to do before the others get back.”
Mariah watched him leave in silence. She slowly climbed from the bed and pulled on her discarded clothes, not bothering to button her blouse. Without Dusty in the room, she grew suddenly cold. She pulled one of the blankets from the bed and curled up in the soft chair by the fireplace. Books lined two of the walls behind her in warm colors of browns. Everything around her smelled of Dusty and his life. She felt cocooned in his world and closed her eyes to simply enjoy the sensations for a moment.
Chapter Thirty
Dusty brought a tray of cold chicken and hot coffee back within what seemed like only minutes to Mariah. He spread the feast before her on the hearth and pulled another chair by the fire. The tiny room filled with the aroma of strong coffee. The crackling fire made Mariah feel like the rest of the world had vanished and only this one place in time and space remained.
“Anyone back yet from Mike and Allison’s?” Mariah asked between bites of chicken.
“No. I heard a horse in the barn. Probably a cowhand coming in early. I didn’t even stop to look, I was so anxious to get back to you.” Dusty set his coffee cup down and stared at her as if memorizing every line of her face.
“What is it, Dusty?” Mariah felt nervous under such scrutiny.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are sitting there with the quilt tucked around you and your blouse open?” He leaned forward and pulled the quilt over her shoulder. “Now that we’re talking, I’ve wanted to tell you for days that I love the way your hair curls around this shoulder and the funny way you look at me. There’s a touch of the devil in every twinkle of your eyes.” Dusty lightly brushed his fingertips along her arm. “Today I learned that sparks can also ignite passion.”
Mariah looked away into the firelight. Her cheeks reddened from his compliments and the fire’s warmth. He was right. She had spent the whole week here either fighting or loving him. Now it was time to understand him. “Tell me about all these books.”
Dusty relaxed back in his chair enjoying the calmness of the moment. “Bethanie thought I should have schooling, so she hitched me up with a tutor back East. As the years went by, I enjoyed reading more and more. The tutor died, but his son continues to send all the best books. A few years ago when the open ranges started to be fenced in, I decided to study law. Before that, I enjoyed learning French. I used to go up to the settlement by Fort Worth and practice. I made some good friends among those people.”
Dusty touched a row of books lightly. “Anyway, it’s been first one thing then another, but law is fun because about the time you think you’ve got it down, it changes. I’ve never had a class, but I’ve read everything I can get my hands on.”
Mariah was fascinated at this side of Dusty, though not surprised. “That’s why Mike said he wants you in Austin with him.”
Dusty nodded. “Mike helped get John Ireland elected governor in ’83. The old guy has fought the building of railroads so long everyone calls him ‘Oxcart John.’ He took a liking to me, and Mike thinks I can influence him.”
“To do what?” Mariah understood little about politics. Dusty chuckled. “Mostly to endorse Lawrence Ross to take his place.”
“Ross?” Mariah interrupted. “Wasn’t he in charge of the Rangers before the war? I think I’ve heard Uncle Josh talk about him.
“He’s the same man.”
“Would he make a good governor?”
“The best,” Dusty stated without hesitation. “But if I went to Austin, I’d be gone from the ranch quite a bit this next year.”
“And you could never leave the ranch,” Mariah finished.
“No, it’s not that.” Dusty stood and began pacing. “This ranch is like family to me. I never had anything of my own from the time I was six, except a watch my brother gave me before he died. That’s why I could never let you sell part of it. It would be like selling off a sister or a brother.”
“But do you want to stay here?”
Dusty raised his hands to one of the low ceiling beams. “Part of me wants to fight in Austin, but part of me will always be here.” He turned his back to her and leaned his head against the mantel.
Mariah had seen this man fighting mad and so angry he couldn’t speak, but never had she seen him in such agony. The muscles tightened across his back, stretching his cotton shirt tight in protest. His hands balled into fists as his face turned upward.
“Dusty?” Mariah whispered, not understanding his sudden mood change.
His words came to her in little more than a whisper, half a plea, half a command. “Don’t leave me, Mariah. Don’t go. It could be so perfect here with you.”
“Do you know what you’re asking of me?”
“I know…I know.” Dusty straightened and pulled himself under tight control. “You’d hate yourself, and me, too, if you stayed, but I had to ask. I don’t want to think of this ranch without you.”
Part of Mariah wanted to reach up and hold this man until all the pain he felt vanished, while another part of her wanted to run as far as she could from him. She had always thought love would make everything simple and plain, not more confusing. “Dusty.” Tears formed in her eyes. “We have to find an answer. I love you too much for there not to be a way.”
Dusty stood behind her chair, his hands barely touching her shoulders. “Mike is pretty determined that I go to Austin this fall with him. There’s a great deal of work to be done at the capital if ranchers are to get a fair shake. I’ve got enough work there to keep me busy for a year, maybe two.”
Mariah brushed his hand with her fingertips. “Dustin Barfield, are you saying you’d wait two years for me.”
“No.” Dusty frowned. “I’m thinking we could get married now and spend what time we could together these next two years. I could come up to Boston when the House was not in session, and you could come to Austin in the summers.”
Mariah liked the idea. “What about Christmas?”
“We’d spend Christmas here at the ranch.”
Mariah tried to be practical. “There would be long train rides, and we’d have to sell off most of the cattle to afford my school and a house in Austin, and what if I got pregnant?”
“I wouldn’t mind the train rides. Most of the cattle died last winter anyway, and Mike can buy the rest for a fair price…and what if you are pregnant?”
“Then I’d have the baby, strap it to my back, and go to medical school.” Mariah laughed.
Dusty pulled her up and into his arms. “You would, too.” He kissed her soundly. “Now, will you marry me, plan or no plan, or do I keep you locked in this cabin for life?”
“You’re forgetting, I’m the one who kidnapped you.”
Dusty lifted her off the floor to eye level with him. “Answer my question.
”
“I’ll think it over.” Mariah loved teasing him.
Dusty growled at her and swung her around the small room.
Neither heard the footsteps on the porch until an instant before the door flew open.
Chapter Thirty-one
Dusty’s head jerked up as footsteps sounded on the porch. An instant later, the cabin door flew open. Dusty jumped for his gunbelt as a man in black bolted into the room. The blast of a round from the stranger’s rifle froze Dusty’s progress. He dropped to the floor with an oath of pain.
Mariah was at his side before the intruder could advance into the room. She watched in horror as blood dripped from a hole in Dusty’s shoulder.
Dusty raised slowly to his knees and pushed her behind him, his gaze never leaving the man standing before them with his gun smoking.
“Mayson.” Dusty whispered the intruder’s name between clenched teeth like an oath. There was no pain in Dusty’s eyes, only a hatred accumulated over twenty years.
“Well, well, what have we here, a little love nest?” Mayson’s smile covered the width of his face, and his thin black mustache spread above his mouth like a charcoal-drawn upper border.
Dusty stood, drawing Mayson’s full attention. Mayson yelled. “Make another move and I’ll hit closer to your heart.”
Dusty faced Mayson fearlessly. “What do you want? You know I didn’t kill your son, so don’t think you can get away with murdering me.”
Mayson seemed in no hurry to answer. He moved toward the fireplace as if he’d been asked to warm himself. “I’ve been out in the cold all day waiting for you to show yourself. I thought you were gone until I saw you walking back behind the main house a few minutes ago.” He glared at Mariah. “I had no idea you were out here with your whore-partner.”
Mariah opened her mouth to give Mayson a few choice words, but Dusty beat her to it.
“You just slither in to insult us, Mayson? If so, put down that gun and say the same thing.”
Mayson laughed a high-pitched whiny cry that bore no hint of humor. “I’m not so young and foolish to battle with a man when age is not in my favor.” He glanced at Mariah. “Or so dumb as my son to think I can sweet-talk a woman out of half a ranch. Though, if I’d know bedding was all she wanted, I might have come myself instead of sending a boy.”