Heart of a Lady (Book One of the Red River Valley Brides)

by Hestand, Rita

  "Don't you want me to scrub your back?" A warm smile curled around his mouth. He was clearly enjoying this. Obviously her complete lack of control fascinated him.

  Visions of just that danced in her mind and awakened her body. Lust was a powerful emotion, one she thought she had better control over. But he always had the right words at the right time. Warmed by his words, fascinated by the look in his eyes, she tried to focus on her anger.

  "No, I do not! Now get out," she protested hotly, frightened by her lack of confidence.

  "You may try your best to be a prim and proper lady, but you don't kiss like one. You kiss me like you want more. A lot more. Which leads me to wonder just who you are, Jo Ella." His voice was soft, as though he were making love to her with it. "I don't know about you, but I dream of being with you in bed. Making love to you all night."

  "You don't mean that." Her loose behavior of late had given a bad impression, and if she weren't careful, Dillon might find her out. All her efforts to gain control of her own life were fast slipping away around this powerful man. Was she a weakling?

  "You kiss like a woman in love. In love with me," he said softly. The lazy way his eyes swept over her sent a thrill through her that made her almost jump from the water and into his arms. Her nipples puckered as she reached to cover herself.

  Control!

  "Damn you, Dillon. I came here to find a husband, not a lover. I want more than stolen kisses and empty promises."

  He nodded as though she'd thrown ice water on him. "You want marriage. All right. I'm willing if you are. We'll get married." He turned to leave. "The sooner the better, I'd say."

  "Wait! I didn't say I'd marry you!"

  "You didn't say you wouldn't either." He laughed.

  "Why do you pull this kind of thing on me? Why do you threaten all I came here to accomplish?" She saw her weakness and was angered that she hadn't taken control of it. She'd given this man the wrong idea, somehow

  "I want you where you belong—in my bed and in my arms. If I have to marry you to get, so be it."

  "If you have to marry me?" She gasped. "What an ego you have. I never once said I would marry you, Dillon. I haven't invited your surprise visits either. You are not welcome here. I am trying to bath, to relax."

  He shrugged. "You are a temptation to me, as much as I am to you, Jo Ella. A man can't say much more about a woman than that. I want you, and you are gonna be mine." He said this so flatly she stared with her mouth open.

  To make matters worse, he smiled as though the victory had already been won.

  "You see, that's a clear invitation to kiss you. Those luscious lips, pouting and parted, ready for my kisses. What do you expect, other than to be kissed until you are dizzy with wanting me?"

  "Get out! I don't want this, I don't want this verbal foreplay of yours. I don't want you, Dillon. I'm not looking for a romp in bed with you. I want a home, a family, a life."

  "I'd rather get in" He laughed, and threatened to come closer. "You want a family? Kids?"

  "Yes."

  Stiffening as tension oozed, he stood staring at her.

  "If I had a gun, I'd shoot you. I swear I would."

  "Want mine?" he offered.

  "The water is getting cold. I want to get out of here."

  "I'll help dry you off." His eyes danced with mischief, and his smile curled around her heart for a moment, until good sense prevailed..

  "No thank you," she said at long last, exhausted from dueling verbally with him, she sounded breathless. "Just leave… please."

  "Your demands are not very convincing. You sound so defeated."

  "I am. I have asked you to leave. I have not invited you here. I don't want your attention, especially this way. I want to bathe. That's all I want. You are disturbing my bath, a bath I've waited anxiously for all day." She sighed.

  "You disturb more than a bath with me, honey. I don't think I've ever wanted a woman as much as I do you. I don't know why. It's just a fact."

  "Wanting and getting are two different things," she insisted. "And marriage is more than just the wanting. And coming here like this, doesn't endear you to me."

  He two the steps it took to stand over her, bent down, touched his lips to hers, and then walked away with her gaping after him.

  There was a soft laugh on his lips. How had she allowed it? How did he get away with kissing her while she was bathing? Anger battled with urges. Her breathing erratic, Jo Ella sat for a long moment in stunned silence.

  How could he say he cared so much but act like that? He was in lust with her too. Lust was not what she wanted. She had lust with Randal, and look where it got her. She would not go down that road again.

  As much as she wanted him physically, she hated him for his brash ego and knowing smile. Somehow she had to find a way to get the upper hand with Dillon, for he was a force, like a tornado that blew in hard and left in a whisper.

  She hated that.

  But all she could manage after his visit was tears. Disappointment crawled up her spine, disappointment in herself. He didn't love her. He only wanted her body, like so many others had wanted her. Memories came flooding back to haunt her. She didn't want that any more. She didn't want Dillon any longer. She recognized the lust in her own heart and his.

  Lust would never rule her again, she vowed.

  She washed, and when she was sure he was gone, she blew out the candles, got out of the water, and crept up to bed with the wrung out towel wrapped around her.

  Her heart was pounding. Shame melted over her like hot wax, her body and mind warring against each other. That's what she hated most, the war going on inside her.

  Remembering why she'd come here in the first place put things into perspective. She had determined a long time ago that she'd seek a husband and be a lady if it killed her.

  No more Randal's.

  But tears were a large part of her night, and she hid her face in her pillow as the memory of the desire in his eyes haunted her.

  Fighting Dillon was becoming a habit she didn't want. She had to keep in mind what really mattered in the long run. Ma Jones was right. Dillon might want her for a while, but what would happen if he tired of her? What would she be to him then?

  She sobbed so hard she woke up Trish.

  "Hey, what's wrong, honey?" Trish came to sit beside her on the bed.

  "I was taking a bath… and Dillon showed up."

  "Oh my God. What did you do?"

  Jo Ella sat up and looked at her. "I couldn't do much of anything, seeing as I was naked in the water at the time. I sat there, watching him ogle me and bed me with his eyes. I watched him lust after me. And fought the urge to do the same with him."

  Trish smiled. "That's what I like about you, Jo Ella, you are so honest. So, did he leave?"

  "Yes, he left. But I have to admit, I’m guilty too. I lusted after him, too. All the time I told him to leave, a part of me, that I thought I'd buried, wanted him to stay. And the worst part is, he knew it."

  "Oh my. What are you gonna do?"

  "I'm not sure, but I've got to put him in his place, somehow. I'll lose everything I came here to gain."

  "And where is his place?" Trish asked innocently.

  "Anywhere but around me."

  "He gets to you that much?"

  "He's like Randal. And I can't let him. I won't be used again." She cried. "I won't, Trish…."

  "Oh, honey. We all get those feelings every now and then. It's natural. But you are right. I doubt Dillon would be the right man for you. You know they called me the cold one, at Al's. I just laid down for them, I refused to let myself feel anything. But when you came up with this idea, I felt we suddenly had a chance to make a real life. And I so wanted that. I still do. Your dream became mine. Don't let this cowboy Romeo keep you from your dreams, Jo Ella."

  Jo Ella looked surprised. "Why? Of all the girls, I just didn't expect that from you."

  "Because he's a rascal, and most rascals don't make a good husband. Don't y
ou understand? He's just a temptation. Do you want another Randal, or do you want a good life with babies and a husband to love you for the rest of your life."

  "You are such a level-headed girl." Jo Ella smiled at last. "He did kind of frown when I mentioned kids."

  "Yep, he's a rascal all right. I got my eye on a man here in town, but he's nothing to look at. It's just that he has a home, some land, and well, I figure I can grow to love him."

  "Oh but, Trish. You don't want to just settle, do you?"

  "No, but I don't want to fall into the trap you've got. And you know that I've never trusted a man, never."

  Jo Ella measured her words. "I guess you are right."

  "I know I am. Now get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

  "I hope so."

  With a smile and a nod, Trish returned to her bed.

  Jo Ella fretted over her words though. "The trap you've got."

  Trish was right. Dillon was a temptation, and that's all he was. She had to face that now and be done with him.

  The problem was, he seemed determined to possess her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harry tracked Cole for miles. The tracks were fresher now, the horse with the loose shoe had lost the shoe and was easier to spot. The fires they left were still warm. He was close. He was determined to catch them unaware.

  As he made camp that night, he wondered about Jo Ella, and the fact that he had sent her home with Dillon. What if that act gave her permission to accept Dillon's advances? Had he pushed her into Dillon's arms? Would Dillon really do right by her?

  Maybe he had no business interfering with her at all. Did he have the right to claim a woman when he was a sheriff?

  His feelings for Jo Ella ran deeper than he could imagine. She was beautiful, but it wasn't her outside beauty that interested him. He found something more profound within her.

  Harry sensed she was a woman who wanted all the right things, but resisted them because of her past.

  He couldn't lay here fussing over her, and get this job done. He had to stay focused on bringing Cole and his gang in.

  The kid with Cole wouldn't be that big a problem. Morey was the one he had to worry about. Nothing Cole had done had been as bad as what Morey had managed to get away with. Cole had the background of a good person, and somewhere deep inside, Harry thought maybe that decent man still lived. But Morey had a drunk for a father and a mother who beat him continuously from the time he was old enough to walk until he walked away from her at fourteen. Morey had turned out just like his mother, unfortunately.

  Lawmen tended to know a lot about these things, especially if they were local people. Because Morey's ma killed his pa when he was ten years old, it had to have had a bad effect on Morey. And Morey had watched it all, hiding under a bed, he saw his father lying on the floor of the cabin and the blood running out of his mouth. The paper had had a big write up about it, and the story had been told many times in Vada. It was the worse murder in the county at the time. Maybe men like Morey had no choice in life. They hadn't been taught right, so how could they be expected to act right?

  It seemed to Harry as though being a lawman could be very tough sometimes. Knowing the full story of someone's life, and yet not letting it effect judgment was hard.

  When he thought on it, he was more than a little sure Morey had killed Dillon's pa. But it could have been in self-defense. Still he doubted Morey could ever prove that fact, or a jury would believe it. A ranching community supported the ranchers in the area. That was fact. If they were robbing him, then he'd naturally fight back. The sad part was Harry might never know the truth of it.

  Getting them back to town was only half the battle. Dillon wouldn't sit around and watch Morey get life in prison. He'd make a move, and then Harry would have to go up against him.

  Dillon was not the forgiving sort. Revenge played a heavy part in Dillon's life.

  Facing Morey was one problem. Facing Dillon was another. Despite the fact that they fought over the same girls, despite the fact that Dillon had a huge ego, Harry did like Dillon as a man. Right or wrong, Dillon stood up for what he believed, which was more than Harry could say for a lot of people.

  But Harry knew he'd do whatever it took.

  As he slept, dreams of Jo Ella danced through his head and heart at the same time. What he felt for her was burning into his very soul. He wanted to marry her, but he knew it would do no good unless she wanted him the same way. He thought she was tough enough to survive being a lawman's wife. He knew she was. But if she loved Dillon, and he had to go up against Dillon, she'd hate him.

  Morning came too soon. He made a pot of coffee and sipped it slowly. The meadow was quiet except for a mockingbird who insisted on keeping him company. He glanced up in the tree and smiled. "Little fella, you bring sunshine into my heart. It'll be a helluva day, but you just made it a little better."

  The mockingbird seemed to get a little louder, his song a little sweeter.

  Harry pushed on.

  The trail was a winding one. They were trying to make it as hard as possible for him to follow, but Harry had learned to track from an old Indian and he was ever grateful for the lessons.

  Nightfall came before he caught up to what looked like their campsite.

  Harry crept up through the bushes, and watched them.

  They were all relaxing, as though no one pursued them. Cole had already removed his gun and laid it by his saddle.

  Harry moved into the outside circle of their camp. "Throw down your guns easy like and put your hands over your head," he instructed.

  The young one drew his gun and fired, but hit a branch above Harry's head. Harry blasted the gun from his hand in seconds. The kid blinked hard then burst into tears as his hand gushed blood.

  "Damnation," the kid cried aloud.

  "That's right, kid. Now throw those hands up," Harry said as he moved to collect their guns.

  Morey and Cole glanced at each other. Both seemed shocked that Harry had only shot the gun out of the kid's hand. Cole stood there with his mouth hanging open, and Morey was frowning, his eyes shifting from Cole's gun to the kid's hand. He hadn't killed the kid. Morey was slow to throw down his gun, challenging Harry as he slowly unbuckled his belt and let it drop to the ground.

  "Who are you? And what do you want?" Morey asked in an gruff manner.

  "I'm Sheriff Jones from Vada. You know…where you shot up the bank teller and one of my deputies and took a woman, not to mention the cattlemen's deposits. You're fortunate neither one are dead. And in case you are wondering, you are all three under arrest now." Smiling, Harry threw handcuffs on them.

  Cole stared angrily. "Sheriff, huh?"

  "That's right."

  "Yeah…I remember you. Across the street. We ain't got any money," Morey announced as though proud of it.

  "Is that a fact? Well, I guess you hid it somewhere along the way then. That's okay. We'll pick it up as we head back," Harry instructed not daunted by the innocence. "Of course if you don't want to pick it up, it might go a little harder at the trial for you."

  "You'll never get us there alive," Morey rasped.

  "We'll see about that." Harry cuffed the kid a little more gently. "Sorry about your hand, kid. I'll wrap it when I get our horses together."

  "It's okay…" But tears streamed down the kid's face. He couldn't be over sixteen or so and had a face full of freckles and a bush of red hair.

  "Now sit down and make yourselves comfortable while I bring my horse over," Harry instructed. He backed all the way to his horse, watching them.

  Morey jumped up and started to run, but Harry shot about an inch in front of his left boot. "I don't miss what I aim at, Morey. So unless you want to limp the rest of the way back, I wouldn't go no farther. I don't plan on killin' you. I plan on getting you there, but whether it is in one piece or not is debatable. And totally up to you. If you shoot, I'll shoot to lame you. Makes it easier for me to take you in."

  "Why don't yo
u jest kill us and git it over with?" Morey snorted.

  Harry chuckled. "Well, you see, I like to do things the hard way. I plan on takin' you back alive."

  That shut them up for a spell.

  Harry tended his horse, tethered him then joined their camp. He stirred their beans. "You only have three plates set. I guess you weren't expecting me."

  "We weren't expecting anyone."

  "How long you been trackin' us?" Cole asked. He'd been silent most of the time. "I never even heard you come up. What are you, part Indian?"

  Harry removed his boots from their position hanging on his saddle horn. He sat down and put them on.

  "A spell. But you are right about one thing, an Indian did teach me how to track and sneak up on a man. It's paid off for me more than once. Just thought I'd share a little about myself with you, since I'm pretty read up on the three of you. All but the kid there.

  "It is Danny Tucker, isn't it?"

  The boy nodded dully.

  "It's gonna be a long ride home, boys. Now let's eat and get some sleep, we start back in the morning."

  "Barefoot. Now that's a trick I wouldn't have thought of. But you gotta sleep sometimes. We'll git you then." Morey bared his teeth.

  "I sleep light. Comes from bein' a sheriff for a while. But you go ahead and run. Just know I'll lame you if you try it. First one leg, then the other. I want you to stand trial for what you did. But it don't mean I can't make you limp the rest of the way."

  "Stand trial?" Morey protested. "Limp. What kind of sheriff are you?"

  Cole's face turned red. "What are we under arrest for?"

  "Bank robbery, kidnapping, disturbing the peace, maybe even resisting arrest. Whatever I can lay on you that fits. 'Course I'd like to arrest you for murder, but that hasn't been established yet. And I'm the kind of sheriff that believes in justice."

  "Murder?" Cole protested. "We didn't kill no one…"

  "Dillon's pa? Ring a bell with either of you?" Harry suggested. "I been waitin' to hang that on you for a while. But bank robbery is bad enough on top of kidnapping a woman."