Robby was hungry. He was thirsty, too, and she had nothing to give him.
After rubbing two small stones against her shirt, she handed one to her son. “Put this in your mouth. It will draw moisture and slake your thirst for a while.” She did the same. Her father had taught her that, as well as how to walk quietly in the forest and listen, too.
That was how she knew they were being followed.
Jenny made no sign that she’d heard. Her walk slowed to allow passage through thick brush. She motioned Robby to silence. Pushing a sweeping branch out of their way, she bent down.
“I want you to run,” she whispered. “Run as never before. Follow the ridge till the trees are all aspens, then head down the hillside. Folsom is another hour’s walk. Go to Mac. He’ll keep you safe till I come for you.”
His eyes widened, staring at her, but he didn’t speak. Her fear was his own. He ran.
With a snap of the branches, Jenny cried out. She crashed into the brush, snapping off a deadfall, the sound of her cries covering Robby’s retreat.
She watched her son leave her. His small body darted below a sweeping branch of pine, then he was gone from sight. She straightened, brushing the broken twigs and clinging leaves from her arms. And she waited, listening. There was unquiet silence. She knew whoever had followed them would come; she had only to wait.
But the silence unnerved her. What if Robby was the one they followed? Had she made a mistake? She took one hesitant step, heard nothing, not even the sigh of the wind.
She ran then. She ran toward her son. Fear made her breathe in gasps. She ran, shoving branches from her path. Robby! She pictured him, felt his fear. She ran faster, darting around a thorn thicket. The brambles caught her jacket fast and she wasted precious moments to pull it free. The cloth gave with a jerk and she was moving again.
Sweat trickled down her face and seeped in rivulets down the collar of her shirt. Her breathing brought pain. Falling to her knees, Jenny looked behind her.
She felt the fierce trembling in her thighs and wanted to cry. No one was going to take her son.
She struggled to stand, bewildered by the total silence around her. The terror she felt made her want to scream out for her son.
There was the sudden undeniable pull of knowing she was being watched. She clutched her arms around her waist to stem the surging tide of fear. The urge to scream was overpowering.
She opened her mouth. The strength of a hand clamped over her mouth silenced her. Jenny fought against the arm around her waist, locking her own arms to her sides. She kicked hard, only to hit air. Her body heaved with waning strength. The despair of being trapped overcame her.
Chapter Nineteen
Charmas Kilkenny’s soothing voice put an end to her struggles. When he released her she sank to her knees.
“Jen? Jen, I swear I never meant to frighten you,” he murmured softly. “I saw you find the scarf and figured you’d know I was near. I couldn’t chance coming to you, but didn’t you know I’d follow if you got away?”
He was met with silence. “Where did you send Robby?” Sinking to his knees beside her, he drew her against him. Her name was all he whispered over and over. “Didn’t you know I’d help you?” He brushed his lips against her hair, drinking in the scent of her. “Did you think I would leave you with them?”
The softness of his voice and his heat warmed her trembling body, but she wouldn’t answer him.
“Are you really one of them? Are you all that Gage said?”
The sound of her pain-laden voice made him squeeze his eyes shut. He had told her half-truths and Jenny wanted no more of them. “Jen, I’m all that he said.”
She couldn’t hold back her tears. He held her when she blindly turned toward him, soothing her with the gentle rocking motion of his body, his fingers catching in the length of silken hair draped over his arm. Holding her, thinking of telling her the truth—all of it—he remembered what he needed from her. His lips tightened. He said nothing.
When the sobs subsided to shuddering breaths, Jenny tried moving away. He refused to let her go, pressing her to him. He couldn’t think of what was to come.
“Jen, you never told me where you sent Robby.”
“To Mac,” she said in a small, frightened voice. “Mac will keep Robby safe for me.
He gave her what comfort he could. “Robby will be safe. Jonas won’t find him. No one will, till you bring him home.”
“Home? No.” She couldn’t explain that Jonas had taken the feeling of home away from her cabin. “Charmas, they only want the money.” She sensed his withdrawal, but there had to be more than what she learned from Gage. “Didn’t you hear me? Give them the money. Give them what they came for and let them go!” He didn’t stop her move away from him.
“You won’t do it,” she decided in a dull voice. “You want revenge, too. Why? Tell me, please, Charmas, tell me,” she pleaded, searching his features for a hint she was reaching him.
Charmas sighed. It was the sound of his pain, and he looked at her with eyes of sadness. “Please understand, Jen, it’s what I must do.”
“Is it?” she snapped, her temper flaring.
“I have a debt to collect.”
“That kind of debt gets a man killed. You say that as if it were more precious than what we might have shared. Or did we share anything?”
Seeing her fury, hearing her regret and bitterness, hurt him. He couldn’t blame her, but it was pain he didn’t need. “We shared. I must finish what I started. You have to understand that. I was coming here to meet them that day you shot me. I didn’t know about you or Robby. I didn’t know I could learn to care so much for anyone again.”
“And Mave? Didn’t you care for her? If you’re determined to kill them, doesn’t that mean you loved her?”
Long tense moments passed before he spoke. “Mave was someone very special to me. She shouldn’t have died. But what I felt for her has nothing to do with what I feel for you.”
She didn’t want to hear his declarations or deal with them now. It was a pointless trail to pursue. She knew it would lead nowhere, not now, not with the men that stood between them.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” She wanted, no needed, his trust and he wasn’t going to answer her. It was confirmed in the stubborn set of his square jaw, the silent determination of his eyes, and Jenny moved away. Studying him, she fought the urge to break his calm control. “Even if I ask you again and again, you won’t tell me all of it, will you?” Silence and the merest flicker of his lashes were her answers. “You asked for my trust, but you don’t trust me.”
“Jen.” He turned toward her, needing to see her, and then wished he had not given in to the need. Her eyes stared back at him with a bright, hard, cynical gleam, like her smile. He leaned forward and she scrambled to her knees, ready to move away from him. “I just can’t,” he finished lamely.
“I’m going back now. Robby has had enough time,” she stated coldly, her eyes wary, sealing off memory, feelings, and hope.
Thick short lashes veiled his eyes. With a slow motion he pushed his hair from his forehead. The action was casual, but his unspoken anger was there in the tense spread of his fingers. “I don’t want you to go back,” he said in a desperate voice as he tried to figure out another way.
“Gage gave me an hour or he’d come looking for us. I need to go.”
He hated the bitterness, but worse, the rejection tore at his gut, and her hard, glittering eyes pierced his soul when he turned toward her. He didn’t want it to be this way, but this was the way it had to be. “I can’t watch you and Robby. Will Jonas go after him?”
“He can try.” She was afraid to tell him what she planned to do, certain that he would try to stop her. But her plan would work only if Jonas and Prado were back from town.
“I think Gage is saddened by needing to kill you, but he is waiting.”
“Stop torturing both of us by asking
me more!” Jealous rage made him come closer, but not close enough to touch as he softly demanded, “What the hell did Gage tell you? Were you alone with him?”
“Does it matter?”
Something dark moved within him. She was always so guarded with him. He moved without thought, grabbing her wrist and dragging her against him. “What the hell did he say?”
“You’re hurting me!” His grip eased, but he did not release her. “H-he said you taught him all he knew.” She couldn’t look at him. “It wasn’t so much what he said as what he didn’t. The feeling is my own for the way he spoke of you,” she added with a slight shrug, feeling the heat of him.
“Gage is my stepbrother, Jenny.”
She yanked free of his hold. He moved to lean back against the tree. Horror dilated her eyes, made her voice tremble. “How could you both talk of killing each other?” Shocked, she stared at him. She had thought she knew him, his strength and power, his gentleness and passion, the desire as wild as her own that ran deep within him. But this…
And she tore at his defenses, weakened them till he hardly dared take a chance that there would be something left to salvage when this was over. “Do you hate me so much, Jenny?”
His question surprised her. Ice seemed to be spreading inside her. She bit her lip until the throbbing matched her rapid pulse. Did she hate him? Could she ever? Why did he ask that now?
“Don’t you know?” he prodded, a mocking edge to his voice.
“I don’t know what I feel for you, Charmas.” Her voice and eyes were filled with entreaty. “I just don’t know anymore. I hate the thought of you planning to kill them. I’m trying to understand why you feel you need to do it, but Charmas, it’s hard even if I admit the choice isn’t yours alone. If you don’t go after them, they’ll hunt you again. I couldn’t stand living with that kind of fear.”
“And I’m asking you again to trust me, Jenny. I need that from you now.”
“I’ll go now. I must, before they come looking for me and Robby. But Charmas, if I help you, in trade promise me my son.”
“I’d promise you more, Jen, if you’d let me.”
The shaggy bark of a pine tree cushioned his back. His head angled up, eyes closed, and his hands clenched into fists. She remained as she was, staring, totally bewildered by the overwhelming need to trust him. Every bit of reason and logic inside her cried no; every instinct told her to go, now. She fought them down one by one.
“Come beside me, Jen. Here.” His slow grin and eyes bright with grim determination enforced his plea. “For a little while, just let me hold you. Please, Jen. I’ve been alone too long and death comes too many ways to a man.” He raised his callused hand, fingers extended for her to reach out and take hold. “Come warm me, Jen.”
It was the memory of his gentleness that made Jenny creep into the warm haven of his arms. Warm me, he had said. She was the one warmed by the tender way he held her near. He eased her head until it rested on his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing. Her cheek rubbed the softness of his shirt, much the way a cat moves to be petted. From beneath lowered lashes she saw light filtering down between the lacy tree branches. The forest no longer frightened her. Charmas was here.
She nestled closer, tension easing slightly. When he asked what she was thinking, she told him. “That part of your revenge is killing Jonas.” There was no hesitation. “I want my son free of him.”
He steeled himself against the possibility of her begging for Jonas’s life. He wanted so much to tell her he had no choice. But he knew Jenny. Kill Jonas and lose her. He held her tighter, pulling her against him as if he wanted to take her inside himself and protect her always. But being able to protect Jenny always was a fool’s thought and he had to remind himself that he couldn’t afford it. Danger hovered and their time was not their own but stolen. They could be tom apart at any moment and with the sense of control being snapped from his grasp, he struggled violently to cope. He fought to find words of reassurance for her, wishing she didn’t need to know all Jonas had done.
“You’re thinking of Sarah, aren’t you?” she said. “I know. Gage—”
“Damn his blasted—”
“No, Charmas. I’m glad he told me. But he sent Prado to kill her. Gage thinks she betrayed them to you.” Jenny reacted to the tensing of his body. Restlessly, he shifted until she was lying on top of him. His arms locked over her back, lips brushing back and forth over her head as she burrowed deeper against him, both heartbeats erratic. His chest expanded beneath her, breath caught on a groan.
“Wildflower,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “You have more questions. Sweet, warm Jenny, you don’t know what you do to me.” Desire surged to his shattered control, but Jenny needed reassurances from him. “Sarah’s safe and away because she trusted me. They won’t find her. The only reason they went to the fort was to meet with Grogan and Jonas. They had split up looking for me, but then she told them you’d be there, too.”
“Why did she tell them about me?”
He avoided looking at her. “Jonas promised her marriage when he had his son.”
“Marriage? But he couldn’t.” She lifted her head, staring at him. “He was, I mean is, married to me.”
“Jonas said,” he uttered with torment, “that you weren’t really married ‘cause you’re a—”
“—a breed,” she finished. He rocked her, his voice weary and so full of pain that she cast her own pain aside to cradle his face. “Charmas … why? Why did he do that to me?”
He kissed her palm, whispering his promise that Jonas would never hurt her or Robby again.
Feeling the throbbing heat of him slowly riding beneath her, she pleaded with him to let her go. Memory replayed and her body was already softening against his hard length.
“I can’t let you go filled with hate and anger, Jen.”
“Damn you!” she cried, struggling against him. “Let me go!”
“No. You keep everything locked inside you. Only my loving you can break down that wall. But you wanted me to trust you, too.” Need for her built inside him. He had to tell her more. She wouldn’t trust him; she wouldn’t love him with the hot, sweet wildness that was hers. He couldn’t blame her; he had given her little reason to trust him. Yet knowing it didn’t make the telling easy. With a lithe motion he rolled her onto her side, ignoring her lips thinned with anger, eyes resentful but sultry. He stopped her struggles by throwing one leg over her own, his head propped on one hand. Jenny stilled while he fought down his need to delve deep into her body again to find her soul. He gently pushed the hair from her face. The need to touch her was as forceful as his need to breathe. To claim her for his own became a fierce, primitive urge.
“Your mouth, Jen,” he whispered, lifting his head. “It tastes like honey melting under the hot sun whenever I kiss you. Kiss me, Jen. Melt for me.
Her gaze was liquid when his mouth captured hers. It was a kiss born of his hunger, of his desperate need for her, and it created the selfsame hunger in Jenny. She shuddered; his body answered. Her senses were filled with him. Warm, gentle warm, then hot, his mouth made his need hers. He pulled back slightly, cradling her cheeks, and gazed down at her with intensity, seeing the softness that would haunt him.
“Jen. Oh, Jen,” he breathed in a shaken whisper, “there’s a fire so deep inside you that could consume a man alive. I hurt, Jen. I hurt with wanting you to stay just like this for me always. Wanting you till I forget there’s anything else but you.”
Jenny saw in his eyes the passion and desire he spoke of. For the first time she knew the power that was hers as a woman who would be loved and cherished. Her heart was too full to speak and for his precious gift she kissed him.
When he reluctantly ended their kiss, he once more stopped her from leaving.
“All I can ask is that you don’t ever hate me. I don’t have the right to ask it, but I will. Hush. Let me talk. I told you I was all Gage said
. I’ll give no reasons. It’s too far into the past to matter. I never ran from a fight. I never went looking for one, but that didn’t seem to count. I worked where I found it, spent time in the army. I was good with my gun. And there were too many hot-tempered kids who wanted to see how good I was.” He held her tight, his voice hollow.
“It was a pattern I began to hate. I felt hunted. But when I went to Segundo, I decided to stop running. Men came there, too, till finally they stopped. When Gage said I taught him, he meant I showed him how to survive on the land. I never taught him to steal or to harbor the hate he carries. I never, never showed him how to kill. Those things he learned on his own.”
He paused, struggling to explain and not lie. He couldn’t. He dared not trust Jenny to go back with the truth, knowing Gage too well, but he hated himself for needing her to go back at all. She could buy him time. Time until they were all together in one place. Tucking her head under his chin, he sighed deeply.
“I had a ranch,” he began. “I worked hard to build it into a place to be proud of. I knew Grogan from the army. He came and asked for help. I gave it as one man gives what he has to another he calls a friend. Grogan came again and brought others. There was a bad drought that year,” he said in a flat voice. “My cattle died and I buried them along with my dreams. I had nothing but the land when Grogan came again with Prado and Jonas. They asked to stay a while and then Gage found me again. He met them there. I didn’t ask where the money came from. I took it and rebuilt my herd. I worked hard to save my dreams, Jenny.” With a weary drawn-out sigh, he added, “And they came again.”
He stroked her hair, but his fingers reflected the tension of his voice. “I’m not proud of what I did. But I never betrayed them. They repaid me by killing Mave. The payroll they robbed from the army was guarded by seven men. One of them was her brother. He was a man I called more than friend; I called him brother, too.”
Jenny held him close, offering silent comfort.
He sought the warm curve of her neck, tilting her head back. “I’m thirty years old. I’ve lived with death for more years than I want to remember, and now have so damn little to offer you.”
Wildflower Page 21