First Love Wild Love
Page 13
Calinda stared at him, reading the honesty in his anguish-lined face. “I’m so sorry, Lynx. I didn’t know.” A tear eased down her cheek, feeling she understood Lynx’s rebellion and cynicism, feeling she now grasped Rankin’s reluctance to discuss his wife and the past.
Lynx pulled her face down to his chest, stroking her hair. He tenderly whispered, “Don’t worry about me, Callie; I’ll survive.”
Calinda lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “But you deserve more than surviving, Lynx, especially how you’re doing it.”
“Do I deserve an angel like you, Callie?” he asked, kissing her, needing her warmth and touch to repel the agony she had revived.
When the kiss ended, Calinda smiled and said, “Yes.”
“Because you feel sorry for me, pity me?” he asked.
“No,” she murmured honestly. “I feel sorry for the suffering you’ve endured, Lynx, but I don’t pity you. You’re a very strong and brave man. Why is it so difficult for you to accept your feelings and deal with them? You have defeated everything but your worst enemy, yourself. Come home, Lynx; Rankin needs you, and you need him.”
“What about you, Callie? Do you want and need me here?”
His mouth closed over hers. Calinda didn’t resist his silent plea for her response. He pulled her over his body and down beside him. Eventually he was lying half on her eager body. Her arms went around his neck and she held him tightly to her. Their mouths meshed in unison; their bodies touched and pleaded. Their desires couldn’t be ignored.
This time, Calinda was not dazed by drugs or sleep, but by forceful passion. This time, Calinda was aware of each caress and kiss, but mindless with smoldering desire. This time, Calinda wanted to learn why Lynx filled so much of her mind and heart. She needed to comprehend this fierce urgency, this bittersweet torment.
Lynx’s hand drifted down to unlace Calinda’s gown and expose her creamy flesh to his lips and quivering hands. She hadn’t realized Lynx was nude beneath the sheet. She didn’t resist when he eased her gown off and their fiery bodies made staggering contact. She only knew she wanted Lynx to halt this raging fire and end this tormentingly sweet agony. She surrendered to his blissful touch and possession.
Lynx had just enough presence of mind not to hurriedly make passionate and savage love to her. He had dreamed of her for weeks. His daring caresses tempted her until she was aquiver with urgent need. She moaned softly and writhed as his tongue lavished moisture on her firm breasts and his hands stimulated her womanhood. He murmured into her ear, “Do you want me, Callie?”
“Yes, Lynx, yes,” she feverishly responded.
He entered her and rode wildly and freely until she stiffened briefly and then clung desperately to him. As if starving for him, she greedily encouraged him to feed her fiercely and quickly. When both were rapturously sated, Lynx was drenched in perspiration. He rolled to his side, mentally willing his drumming heart and swift respiration to slow to normal. Never had he felt as whole as he did at this moment.
Callie didn’t mind the moisture on his chest as her fingers drifted over it and she laid her face against his damp shoulder. They lay quietly for a time, then Lynx propped on his elbow to study her. “Are you all right, Callie?” he asked, as if this was her first time to make love.
She smiled serenely and nodded. “You have a way of hypnotizing a woman, Lynx Cardone. Perhaps I should watch you closely and be on guard every minute.”
Lynx tenderly caressed her cheek and smiled. “I hope that won’t be necessary or desirable, Callie. You’re the most intoxicating woman I’ve known. Promise you won’t leave here while I’m gone. I’ll get back as soon as possible, then we can work out something about us.”
“Must you leave?” she entreated, missing him already.
“Yes. I promised a man I’d do some work for him, but I can’t tell who or where.” His thumb moved back and forth over her lips.
“Is it dangerous?” she worried aloud.
“Living is dangerous, Callie,” he side-stepped her question.
“You will be careful?” she insisted, knowing he wouldn’t tell her more than he had stated.
“I promise. Give me your word you’ll be here next time.”
“I promise. I’d better go,” she said reluctantly.
“Don’t,” he urged, hugging her tightly.
“Your father would be most upset and disappointed with me if he discovered the truth about us.” She suddenly laughed.
“What’s so amusing?” he inquired, eyeing her curiously.
“I don’t believe this. I’m lying in bed with a near stranger, calmly chatting after making love. You are a wicked and potent temptation. You should be ashamed of yourself for demoralizing me. This is the most illogical and incredible thing I’ve ever done.”
He chuckled. “Count me in. I’m just as astonished and confused. I’m glad I met you first. You’d best be on your guard, woman; I’ll probably shoot the first cowpoke who looks at you sideways.”
“How could I possibly notice him when my eyes are for you alone?” she quipped, caressing his smooth jawline.
“Just make sure you remember that while I’m gone. I wouldn’t want to challenge some new sweetheart the moment I returned.”
“Aren’t you mighty possessive for a man who has no claim on me?” she teased, snuggling up to him, savoring his words and new mood.
Lynx shifted to remove a cross of pounded Spanish silver from his neck. He slipped it over her head and vowed, “That says you’re mine.” Lynx tried to ignore a stunning reality: he hadn’t felt this happy, carefree, or excited in years. His only regrets were bad timing, mandatory silence, and a defensive reluctance to trust this woman so quickly and completely or his own unpredictable feelings. Until he was certain of what he wanted and needed, he must bind her to him without making rash promises or perilous confessions. A man would be a fool to douse such flames without a good reason…
“How shall I mark my claim?” she hinted playfully.
As he chuckled, she bit his shoulder gently. “There, that’s my brand. However you read it, it says Calinda Braxton. Perhaps I could alter the bottom of the C/R branding iron and make one to use on you,” she gleefully ventured.
“You wouldn’t want to inflict such searing pain on me.”
“Rankin told me it only smarted for a minute.”
“On a horse or cow, but I’m a man,” he amusingly wailed.
“That you are, Mister Cardone,” she agreed dreamily.
Lynx’s gaze fused with hers, then his mouth came down to begin a leisurely session of lovemaking…
Lynx’s tongue drew moist circles around her breasts as she watched with smoldering eyes. Oddly, she felt no shame at this intimate and erotic behavior. The look in his gaze told her everything she needed to know at this special moment; this was love, their first love, love wild and free. Her heart surged with joy at that realization.
A radiant smile flickered over her face. Her fingers drifted through his curling mane, the ecstasy of their contact flooding her heart and soul. For a time, he seemed content to engulf her beauty and to lovingly stroke her satiny flesh. This moment had been long in arriving and demanded to be savored to the fullest.
When their play grew serious and hungers mounted, he entered her and held her possessively. Each blissful stroke urged another, then another. Soon they were caught up in the swirling vortex of fierce passion. As if submerged in water, he seemed to surround her completely. She wondered why she had ever resisted him. His love offered all she wanted or needed. Regardless of the past or future, Lynx Cardone was a vital part of her existence now. She loved him.
With skill and persistence, he timed their release perfectly. They clung together as rapture enslaved and rewarded them. Afterwards, he held her with such gentleness she wanted to cry with joy. She nestled into his arms, knowing she never wanted to leave them.
“You’re mine, Callie,” he whispered against her forehead.
“Yes Lynx
,” she instantly agreed, hugging him tightly.
Wrapped in each other’s arms, they slept until passions demanded another feeding…
Chapter Six
When Calinda yawned and stretched contentedly the next morning, she discovered herself in her own bed! As her mind cleared of dreamy cobwebs, she recalled Lynx gathering her drowsy body in his arms and returning her to her room. She smiled as lovely memories of last night returned. It was definite; she was in love with Lynx Cardone. After his actions last night, surely he felt the same. She hopped out of bed and dressed, eager to see him. She prayed he hadn’t left for the range yet, but he had promised to take her riding with him.
When she went downstairs, the house seemed empty. Finally she located Rankin in his office, poring over the ranch books. He glanced up and smiled fondly at her, quickly closing the books. She returned his smile, then asked if she was disturbing him.
“Not at all, Cal, come in. You look mighty chipper this morning.” He opened a drawer and slipped the two books inside, then closed and locked it.
“I suppose I was out of sorts yesterday,” she excused her mood. “I didn’t see Salina or Lynx around,” she remarked to withdraw information. She was trembling with excitement at seeing her love.
“Salina’s gone into town with one of the men for supplies. I’m sorry to say, that son of mine took off for parts unknown at daybreak.”
Calinda’s smile faded. “He’s gone?” she asked without caution.
“Is something wrong, Cal? You look pale,” he said.
“He said he was taking me riding this morning. I guess he forgot he was leaving.” Calinda didn’t conceal her disappointment.
“He was in a strange mood last night,” Rankin said. “How did you two get along?” he probed.
“Fine,” she murmured, not really paying attention.
“He left me a note. Want to hear it?” he asked.
“No thanks,” she almost whispered, her eyes sad.
“He mentioned you,” Rankin tempted.
Her face brightened. “He did?”
“Told me to take real good care of you. I think you made quite an impression on my son. I was hoping you might encourage him to stay home. Seems he still has wander-dust in his boots.”
Calinda blushed. “You two are lucky to have each other. Did he say when he’d be home again?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Afraid not. Maybe knowing you’re here, he’ll hurry back.”
That news put a curious sparkle in her eyes and smile. Rankin suppressed his grin and pleasure. Clearly these two had something going. But why had Lynx taken off like that? Had Rankin’s hints at marriage panicked Lynx into defensive distance? If Calinda changed her mind and asked to see the note, he would have to find some excuse to deny her. After all, Lynx hadn’t really mentioned her in terms she should read. Was the fearless Lynx running scared of Brax’s daughter? Or was Lynx avoiding his father’s gentle coercion?
For the next few days, Calinda was depressed. She couldn’t believe Lynx would make such passionate love to her, then leave without a word. He had shown trust in her by exposing such bitter and private feelings. Had he felt threatened by the revelation of his emotions? Had her sympathy and fiery responses merely been soothing for him?
As promised, Rankin found Calinda a chore to eat up time and energy. She was responsible for feeding and watering the new colts and their mothers. Later, she asked to help with the extra saddles to keep them in condition. Wherever possible, she took on little chores and performed them skillfully and eagerly. She cleaned and blued Rankin’s guns, and she rode fence with him while he taught her more each day. As with Rankin, she came to love the openness and beauty of the landscape. But she missed Lynx terribly. After learning about the other event which occurred the day of her father’s disappearance, she comprehended the two men’s reluctance to discuss that agonizing time. How could she probe her father’s actions without refreshing the haunting memory of Laura? She let the matter slide for now.
When Salina became busy with canning fruits and vegetables for winter, Calinda found household tasks to drive her body to fatigue and her mind to distraction. She helped one of the men in the floral gardens; she assisted with cleaning the balconies and outside furniture; she scrubbed the stone floors on the porches; and she made herself useful in many other ways. Still Lynx haunted her day and night.
Carly Jones, a dependable and amiable ranch-hand, worked with Calinda many times. He taught her to handle a lasso and small calves. Some days they practiced roping and shooting. Other days, she accompanied him on his fence rounds. It was imperative to locate any holes cut in the fences and to repair them quickly to prevent expensive cattle from being stolen or wandering off. Calinda came to realize that rustling and fence-cutting were common occurrences. After she learned to manage a wagon and team of horses, she frequently delivered barbed wire and supplies to the cowboys on the range.
Some days, when Salina wasn’t present to prevent it or to harass her, she would prepare special treats or cool drinks and take them to the men who worked within riding distance of the house. The men became fond of her and her company.
During the first week of June, Calinda sought out Rankin to beg a favor. She handed him a letter and asked him to mail it for her the next time he went into town. “I wrote to the Simpsons,” she told him. “I asked them to let me know if they heard from my father. I doubt it will do any good, but I felt it was the only action I could take.”
Rankin smiled indulgently. “Why don’t you go into Waco with Steve tomorrow? You can mail the letter and shop. You’ve worked hard these last weeks, Cal. Steve will look after you. You deserve a rest and diversion.” Rankin wasn’t worried about the Simpsons. He knew he would intercept any response.
Two days later, Calinda was in Waco, “Six-shooter Junction.” This large town was bustling with activity, prosperity, and people. Though Waco was quite modern, it wasn’t uncommon to have a gunfight on the main street every day. A center for education and culture, Waco was often labeled the “Athens of Texas.” It boasted of churches, opera houses, and flourishing businesses. There were many schools, including Baylor University. She was surprised by the immense size and architecture of the buildings, many flaunting lofty spires or turrets. There were stockyards on one end of town, for cattle being sent by train to the market. There were a variety of stores, and Calinda had a fat purse which Rankin had given to her.
Steve Garrison, a trusted ranch-hand and close friend to Lynx, took Calinda to see the sights after their arrival. Steve related tales of early longhorn cattle drives through this area before the railroads came. He told her how fencing and windmills had altered Waco’s landscape and way of life. Besides cattle, this was a heavy agricultural region, with vegetables and cotton the main products. Calinda was surprised to discover a large Texas Ranger post at Fort Fisher. Perhaps they could offer help with her dilemma.
Steve hired a buggy and showed her the cotton mills, expounding on the days when “Cotton was King.” He gave her a brief history lesson on Waco during the Civil War, adding that Confederate uniforms were made from local cotton and on machinery smuggled through the enemy blockade. He drove her to see the suspension toll bridge over the Brazos River which had been completed in 1870. Steve pointed out how many buildings and homes were constructed of Wacomade pink brick. She saw the McLennan County Court House, the Cotton Belt Depot, and the famous Waco Square. Then, having business to handle, Steve left her to herself later that afternoon.
As Calinda was leaving a dress shop to return to the hotel, a pair of startled golden eyes trailed her movements. When she was safely inside, Lynx headed for his meeting. He kept wondering what Calinda was doing alone in a wild town like Waco. Surely she hadn’t left the ranch? Later, he would check out this mystery.
Lynx pulled up a chair and sat down across from Major Jones. “Things going smoothly up Dallas way?” he queried absently.
“Peak is dogging the Bass gang. I’m g
oing to need your help, Lynx. Murphy is ready to turn traitor to Sam. He’ll need a contact.”
“Where do I find him?” Lynx asked, propping elbows on the table.
“Sam’s planning another big robbery. Murphy’s going to inform me as soon as it’s set. I’ll need you to stick close until word comes in.”
“You sure it isn’t the James gang?” Lynx inquired.
“Yes. The Jameses are working out of Arkansas and Kansas right now. But we do have two other problems: Rube Burrow and Cole Stevens. Burrow has been hitting the Southern Express heavily. He’s got Pinkerton detectives roaming the woods after him.” Jones shoved some papers into his saddle-bag and focused his piercing eyes on Lynx.
“Burrow’s description wasn’t in the crime book.”
“He’s a mean one, Lynx; don’t take any chances if you happen on him. Blue eyes as cold as winter; nerves like iron. He’s tall and gangly, but strong as an ox. He thinks nothing of using his 44’s on anyone. He also likes to use disguises, so he’s hard to trace.”
“What about Stevens?” Lynx questioned, leaning back in his chair, his hands dropping across his lap.
“He’s a sly one, Lynx. He hits banks, trains, and stages at their peaks. I don’t see how it’s possible, but it appears he knows when and where to strike. Mighty strange…” Jones murmured.
“Who’s riding with him?” Lynx asked, coming to full alert.
“Six men and a skinny lad.”
They talked on for a time, then Lynx left by the side door. He headed for the hotel. It was nearly nine o’clock by then. Lynx encountered Steve coming out of a saloon. He questioned his friend about Callie’s presence, relieved to learn why she was in Waco.
Lynx decided it would be best not to see Callie and went to his own room in the same hotel. The longer he lay there thinking about her so close, the tenser he became. Why was he afraid to love her and trust her? Finally, he got up, dressed, and headed to her room.
Concluding it might attract the attention of others, Lynx didn’t knock. He used his acquired skills to unlock her door and sneak inside. He walked to her bed and stared down at the lovely sleeping face. Could she betray him too? Could he handle her and the resulting situation if he allowed her to get too serious and too close? He clenched his teeth and turned to leave, as soundlessly as he had entered.