"Damned if I can refuse you anything, angel," he muttered thickly. He couldn't see her dainty freckles in the sheen of the moonlight, but he kissed each one where he remembered it to be, his lips trailing like match flames down her throat, and when he slid the shawl and gown from her body, his own response was fierce and immediate as he drank in the sight of her pale satin skin glimmering in the moonlight, her eyes soft and shining with desire.
Maura was too desperate to think beyond the moment. As she threaded her hands through the thick silk of his hair, she knew only that she loved him with all her heart, that there was too much grief and sadness and cruelty in the world, and that love should be embraced, celebrated, and cherished.
She wanted to tell him she loved him, but the words died in her throat. So she told him with deep, slow kisses that sought to devour the distance between them. She pressed close against him, needy and giving all at once, and when Quinn's hands slid around her breasts, when his teeth began to tug gently at her nipple, she responded with a half-crazed moan and her own hands explored his taut body with ever-growing urgency. They skimmed over iron-hard thighs and found his swollen manhood.
How magnificent he was—this gunfighter with the silver eyes and the body like weathered rock and the strong mouth capable of such hot, tender kisses. His sharply indrawn breath at her touches made her ever bolder—the knowledge that she was driving him as mad as he was driving her sent a flood of delicious power and stunning need through her.
The storm built between them, wild and driving, and together they began to writhe as tender touches gave way to fierce, clinging, seeking thrusts. As Quinn's weight covered every inch of her and his hands brought even the most hidden, sensitive places vibrantly to life, Maura's senses tumbled and whirled. She wanted him, all of him, more than she had ever wanted anything before—she wanted him and the wild cold night and the sweet scent of grass mingling with their sweat and with their desire.
Far above Quinn's broad shoulders, stars whirled through the ebony sky like diamonds scattered across a midnight sea. The wind lifted her hair, cooled her hot skin, and when Quinn thrust deep inside her, his eyes blazing into hers, she knew only a single-minded love that drove everything else on earth into oblivion.
"Quinn—I...I..."
I love you, she yearned to say, but she caught the words back on a sob as he plunged into her, powerful, sublime thrusts that touched the core of her being again and again and again. "I need you," she gasped, dizzy with the sweet agonizing tension that locked her body in its merciless grip. "I need you so," she cried as wild sensation after sensation swamped her.
His hands were tangled in her hair, his breath rough and hot on her face. "I need you, too, Maura. Damn it, I don't want to... I've never needed any woman... not like this."
Aching hope and wonder filled her. "Quinn, really? Truly?"
"You make me want to promise things I never thought I would," he groaned. He rained kisses on her, their bodies moving desperately together. "Oh, hell, what are you doing to me, Maura Jane? My sweet, beautiful Maura Jane."
"It's nothing, Quinn, compared to what...you're doing to me." He caught her mouth in a bruising kiss and Maura gave herself up to the joy licking through her. She felt his strength and his need crushing down upon her as together they rolled and wrestled and rocked upon the grass, locked in a fierce frenzy that built to a peak so intense, it left them both shuddering. Breathless and gasping, they held on to each other for dear life and toppled over the crest of a mountain so high, it skimmed the stars.
Flying, soaring, Maura clung to him, wordless cries tumbling from her lips, the taste of him on her mouth, the strength of him clenched within her. Glorious, she thought as they raced together into hot, biting flames and gave themselves up to the fire.
When the flames flickered down and the smoke cleared like fairy mist and the mountain retreated to a dizzying blur, they lay enfolded and spent in each other's arms. Caught in the grip of sated bliss, they rested, entwined, beneath the silent moon and held on to each fragile moment of togetherness. Silently, each dreaded the breaking of the spell.
It came, of course, all too soon when a hawk wheeled overhead, dipped, circled, and flapped away. Somehow as it crossed the sky, the magic ebbed and reality flowed back. They felt the hard ground beneath them, the cold air seeping over their naked bodies. The sensation of being exposed and vulnerable not only to the beauty of the night, but to human danger, descended upon them, and heaven fled.
Maura stirred first and sat up. Quinn moved faster though. He came to his feet in a smooth uncoiling movement, tossed her the nightgown and shawl, and reached for his pants.
They dressed in silence, all too aware of each other, with memories vibrating between them. But when Maura turned from the creekbank and began to walk back, Quinn stopped her. He scooped her into his arms and without a word carried her through the trees and across the dark, fragrant grass to the cabin.
Chapter 29
The next week passed quietly. The image of her murdered brothers haunted Maura from time to time as she cooked and tended to her chores, but she was saddened to discover that she felt no real grief. She hadn't loved Judd and Homer—they'd never been kind or decent enough to endear themselves to her or to anyone, perhaps not even to Ma Duncan—but she mourned the brutality of their deaths and the suffering they must have known.
And like everyone else who had been at the Tyler party that evening, and everyone who heard what had happened, she wondered just who had committed those brutal murders—and why.
John Hicks had sent a telegram to the federal marshal in Laramie notifying him of the crime. He'd also described the rampages of the Campbell gang and made a plea that a lawman be sent to Hope at the earliest opportunity to reassure the citizens and restore law and order. Days had passed and there had been no reply. But Quinn took no chances. He left standing orders that when he was gone from the ranch, at least two ranch hands remain within shouting distance of the cabin at all times.
Maura tried to tell him that whoever had borne a grudge against Judd and Homer could hardly have one against her as well—and certainly wouldn't know how to find her if they did—but she might as well have been speaking to the meadowlark that sang every morning outside the cabin window for all the good it did her.
And even when she reminded him that the Campbells appeared to have left the vicinity—no one had spotted them in weeks—Quinn just went on cleaning his gun or saddling his horse or chopping wood, as if she hadn't spoken at all.
One bright May morning when the sky gleamed like a sapphire and puffy white clouds danced a slow ballet, they prepared to drive into Hope for supplies.
Just before she went out to the wagon, while she was tying the strings of her bonnet, Lucky Johnson knocked on the cabin door.
When she let him in, she was startled by the grim expression on his youthful face as he tugged off his hat and nearly crushed it in his hands.
"Lucky—what is it? What's happened now?"
"Nothing." He stomped inside, glared around the cabin at nothing in particular, then shrugged.
"You look like someone shot your best friend."
"I do?" He scowled. "Well, nothing's wrong. Everything's dandy. Everything's just as dandy as can be."
"Then why are you here?" Maura asked, torn between amusement and concern. "Do you need something from town?"
"I surely do," he muttered, half to himself, then glanced at her and flushed at her puzzled expression. He reached into his pocket and dug out a folded scrap of paper. "I'd be obliged if you'd give this to Nell Hicks for me.
Maura stared at the folded paper, then at Lucky's brick-red countenance. "Why, of course."
He started toward the door, but Maura couldn't resist asking a question. "Have you seen Nell since that night when she found...you know..."
"I rode into town once and tried to see her, but her pa said she was too upset to work downstairs in the store. And he wouldn't go up and get her." He scowled. "But Tex
walked in just then and... Oh, never mind."
"What do you mean, Lucky? What did Tex have to do with anything?"
"Well, he was with her that night when she saw those two bodies hanging from that tree and I guess he's been coming to call on her ever since then. He had a handful of posies for her, gave them to Mr. Hicks right in front of me." The scowl deepened. "Hicks said: 'What, another bunch of 'em?' and he looked mighty pleased about it. Promised to bring them straight up to her."
"I see." Maura did see. Tex's attentions to Nell, and the fact that he himself had not been able to see her, were obviously not sitting well with Lucky Johnson.
"Perhaps you should take another ride into town yourself. I'm sure that by now Nell is back working in the store."
"The boss has other ideas. I've got cattle to round up in the north pasture. And tomorrow we're doing some building here at the cabin—me, Orville, and the boss. I won't be getting to town anytime soon."
He looked so glum that Maura reached out impulsively and patted his arm. "Oh, Lucky, don't you worry. I'll give Nell the note. She'll be glad to know you're thinking of her."
"I feel bad, that's all," he mumbled. "She's had a rough time of it—first with those Campbells, and then with what she saw. Ladies shouldn't see things like that, you know?"
"I know." Maura couldn't suppress a shudder.
"And I treated her bad. Rude-like. I don't know why, because I'm not usually like that with girls, but I just couldn't seem to help it."
Suddenly he straightened his shoulders and assumed a cocky stance. "But it doesn't matter none. I just thought that since you're going into town, you could give it to her—but on second thought"—he reached for the note Maura still held, his color deepening even further— "maybe it's not such a good idea."
"Lucky Johnson!" Maura exclaimed, thrusting the note behind her back before he could grab it. "You just go on out there and get to work. I'll take care of this note. Now scoot."
"But..." Doubtfully, he stared at her, as if contemplating the wisdom of reaching behind her and trying to take the note back.
"Scoot, I said!"
He scooted. Maura dropped the note into the pocket of her gingham gown, gave the spotless kitchen one final critical glance, and sailed out to the wagon.
Few words passed between her and Quinn as they drove into town. She commented on the beautiful, mild spring weather. He said that from the looks of the clouds in the distance, a storm would blow in within the next day. She mentioned that she'd like a chicken coop, and perhaps a pen to keep a pig or two, and he replied that he'd give the matter some thought.
"I've been thinking of something else," she said shortly before they began to climb the gentle rise just beyond the fringe of town. "Names."
Startled, he shifted his glance from the road to look at her.
"We need to decide upon a name for our baby," she explained patiently.
He swallowed. "Yeah, sure. I hadn't thought about... a name."
"Most people do have them," she pointed out gravely.
"Most," he concurred, a grin angling at the corner of his mouth. Then he shrugged. "Whatever name you pick is fine with me. But don't you want to wait and see if it's a boy or a girl?"
"Actually, I've been thinking of names for both a boy and a girl. It's always good to be prepared."
"I reckon it is, but there's plenty of time." He glanced at her belly. Beneath the gentle folds of the worn dress it was still nearly impossible to tell that she was carrying a child—aside from a slight rounded thickness around her middle, Maura didn't look much different than she had a month ago.
"There isn't as much time as you might think. When I saw Doc Perkins a few weeks back he said the baby would most likely be here sometime in October. Or early November, at the latest."
November. Quinn felt as if she'd dealt him a blow to the stomach. By November they'd be sharing the cabin with an infant. There would be crying, squalling, tiny clothes, booties. He tried to imagine it and felt only an uneasy tightening in his gut.
"Besides," Maura when on, when it became apparent he wasn't going to offer any further comment, "I love thinking about the baby. Edna has a hand-made crib that she used when her daughters were small and she said we can have it. Isn't that sweet? The sewing circle is working on a quilt and I'm going to start on some baby clothes," she rushed on happily. "And Quinn, I keep trying to imagine what he or she will be like—and look like."
Quinn felt sweat beading on his forehead. Honor had driven him to take responsibility for the child Maura would bear, but he'd be damned if he could get the least bit excited about it. More ties. More things to worry about. It was bad enough he thought about Maura night and day, that she had somehow started sneaking into his thoughts no matter where he was or what he was doing— herding cattle, fixing a fence post, or playing poker in the saloon.
Her face came to him at the oddest moments, her voice whispered in his ear. Making love to her was different than it was with any woman he'd ever known. Hotter, sweeter, more intense.
And afterward, he found himself enjoying those moments of holding her in his arms, inhaling the flower scent of her hair, her skin. Feeling her heart beating against his.
Whoa.
Things were getting out of hand. And he wasn't sure what to do about it. Ever since that night when they'd made love in the grass he'd kept his distance. He wanted her too much. That wasn't good. Wasn't right. Spending too much time with her, getting too comfortable in the damned cabin she kept fixing up and making brighter and cozier, what with needlework pillows, and flowered china cups all matching, and new curtains and thick rugs.
She brought out feelings in him, yearnings—and fears—he'd never known before. And what if the baby did the same?
It was a relief when Hope came into view. He forced his attention toward the look and mood of the town, alert to any sign of trouble. Horses tied to fence posts, rows of stores and shops, people striding up and down the street. Since the Campbells had been chased off the last time, folks seemed to feel more confident. The place was slowly coming to life again.
But Quinn didn't trust the quiet. He knew Lee and Ned and especially Luke too well. He hadn't outlived all his enemies by underestimating them. He'd have to see the Campbells six feet under before he'd even think about letting his guard down again.
"Reckon I'll stop by the mill and get more lumber. I'll come fetch you here at Hicks's when I'm done," he told Maura as he helped her alight before the general store.
"Quinn." She gazed up at him, and the wistfulness in her eyes seemed to stab right through him.
"Yeah?"
"You never asked me which names I'm thinking about for the baby. Don't you even want to know?"
A man shouldered past him, then a woman holding a small boy and girl each by the hand skirted around Maura. The horses snorted in the glowing sun. Quinn stared into his wife's exquisite eyes, feeling that part of him was sinking helplessly into their gold-flecked depths.
"Later," he managed to say gruffly, then stalked to the wagon and left her without looking back.
Maura gazed after him, a knot of sorrow burrowing deep inside her heart.
Why did she keep trying? It was no use.
Quinn was doing his duty and no more. When the baby came, she could only pray he would feel something for it, but as for loving her, or yearning to be a family the way she did...
It was time to stop dreaming. Some things were possible in this world, and some were not.
From the window high above the general store, a man watched the woman standing alone in the street. A slow smile lit his face. His palm had itched to pull his gun when he saw Quinn Lassiter driving that wagon, but time in prison had taught him patience and so he held off. He knew that sometimes it was better to wait.
He could have killed the woman and Lassiter from where he watched behind the curtain, but that would be too quick, too easy. Lassiter had to suffer—and suffer slow.
The woman went into the stor
e.
He liked the way she moved, with a feminine sway to her hips that was at once graceful and alluring. He liked the way she looked. All that fine bright hair.
He hadn't seen much of her figure, but that would be remedied real soon.
Stroking his dirty straw-colored mustache, he turned from the window and nodded at his two cousins. They waited impatiently, watching his face, eagerness and bloodlust shining from their eyes. Ignoring the trussed-up storekeeper hog-tied to the chair against the wall, Luke Campbell addressed Lee.
"Get down there with the Hicks girl pronto. Lassiter's woman is on her way in."
Chapter 30
The little bell tinkled overhead as Maura pushed open the shop door, but she halted on the threshold when she saw Serena Walsh inside, setting a basket of eggs over one arm.
Both Serena and Nell Hicks glanced over at her as soon as the bell tinkled, so she had no choice but to go on in.
"Good day, Nell," she began, then broke off. The girl looked dreadful. Her eyes were swollen and red as if she'd been crying, and there were huge dark circles beneath them.
Moreover, though she was tightly gripping the counter-top, as she looked at Maura her hands and arms began to shake, all the way up to her elbows.
"Good heavens, you haven't gotten over the shock yet," Maura exclaimed, rushing forward. "You poor child—"
"Mrs. Lassiter." Serena Walsh stepped forward, blocking her path. Maura was forced to stop and meet her gaze.
"I was wondering if I might have a few moments of your time. I'd like to talk with you. When you're finished with your purchases, of course."
Maura was still studying Nell and anxiety for the girl furrowed her brow. "I don't have very much time," she said distractedly, "but, yes, if you'd like. We could go to the hotel and have some tea when I'm done here. Then I could watch for my husband from the window. He's coming back for me."
"I have a better idea. Why don't we have tea at my boardinghouse? I baked some almond butter cookies this morning. The sitting room overlooks the street so you can watch for Quinn."
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