"Creed?" She blinked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded, her voice uneven. "What's wrong?"
"It's time to go, Jassy." He stepped away from her and took a deep breath. "This isn't the time or the place."
"When?" she asked. "Where?"
"In about four years," he muttered, and resettling his hat on his head, he started walking before lush pink lips and luminous brown eyes changed his mind.
Chapter Four
She was still following him. Creed let out a long sigh, bemused by his feelings for Jassy McCloud. On the one hand, it was kind of flattering having her trail after him like a love-starved puppy. There was a sweetness about her, a vulnerability, that made him feel protective of her, especially now that her mother was dead.
On the other hand, he spent far too much time thinking about her. He didn't need a distraction like Jassy McCloud in his life, and one night, when he'd had a little too much to drink, he had told her so.
Follow me all you want, he had said, his voice harsh and unrelenting, but it won't do you any good. I'm not taking you with me. Now get lost.
She had nodded that she understood, but she had kept following him, hiding in doorways, watching when he left the hotel, waiting outside Jackson's while he ate breakfast, trailing after him when he went to the saloon. Whenever he caught her at it, she just smiled, her eyes glowing with hope.
It was time to leave town, he mused, before he started giving some serious thought to taking her with him. He had done a lot of fool things in his life, but getting mixed up with a little bit of a girl who wanted a home and a dozen kids would make all his other mistakes look like accomplishments. So he'd head out of town and that would put an end to it.
Tomorrow, he thought. He would leave for Black Hawk tomorrow.
But tomorrow came and went, and Creed didn't leave town.
Jassy stared at her sister. "You're leaving town? Where are you going?"
Rose smiled a secret smile as she folded her best dress and added it to the small pile of clothing on the bed. "Ray wants me to meet him in Denver."
"Denver! But . . ."
Rose's eyes narrowed ominously. "But what?"
"He's . . . he's married."
"No, he's not."
"But . . ."
"He's not married to Tess."
"Oh."
"He's only stayed with her this long because of Harry. But Harry's a big boy now."
Jassy clasped her hands together. "Are you coming back?"
"I hope not." Rose made a slow pirouette, a dreamy expression on her face. "Wouldn't it be great if he asked me to"
"To what?" Jassy stared at her sister. Surely Rose didn't think Coulter would many her.
"Never mind." Rose shoved a couple of crumpled greenbacks into Jassy's hand. "We'll be gone a week or so. You stay in the house until I get back, hear?"
"What if you don't come back?"
Rose made a broad gesture with her hand. "Then I guess all this will be yours."
A lump of fear congealed in Jassy's stomach. She wasn't all that crazy about her sister's company, but she had never lived alone, had no way to support herself, except . . . She swallowed the fear rising in her throat. No matter what happened, she wasn't going to end up working at the Lazy Ace.
"Oh, for crying out loud, don't fret about it," Rose said irritably. "If we decide to stay in Denver, I'll send for you."
"You promise?"
"Sure."
"When are you leaving?"
"On the evening stage."
Creed paused on his way out of Roscoe's Tobacco Shop. Across the way, he saw Jassy's sister being helped aboard the stage bound for Denver. His gaze swept the boardwalk for some sign of Jassy, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Creed frowned, wondering what Jassy would do if Rose was leaving town for good, and then he swore under his breath. It was none of his business. Jassy was none of his business.
His business or not, he found himself walking down the boardwalk toward Gratton's. Inside, he quickly wrote a listsugar, coffee, flour, potatoes, onions, a dozen eggs, a slab of baconand handed it to Gratton.
The shopkeeper looked a little surprised as he rang up Creed's purchases. Creed supposed he couldn't blame the man. Until today, he'd rarely stepped foot in the place.
After paying for his purchases, Creed made a stop at Mulsteins's Meat Market, then headed for Jassy's. With each step, he told himself he was making a big mistake, but he didn't turn back.
Minutes later, he was knocking at her door.
Jassy stared up at Creed in astonishment, the beat of her heart increasing with each passing second.
''Creed." She murmured his name, unable to believe he was really there. "What are you doing here?"
"I saw Rose over at the stage depot."
"She's on her way to Denver to meet aa friend."
"Is she coming back?"
"Oh, yes," Jassy said, injecting a note of conviction into her voice. "Next week."
Creed grunted softly. "Where do you want this stuff?"
She noticed the box in his arms for the first time. "What is it?"
"Just some stuff I picked up. Coffee, flour, things like that."
"Why?"
Creed shrugged. He wasn't prepared to explain what he didn't understand himself. "Where do you want it?"
"In here," Jassy said and led the way down the narrow, paint-peeling hallway toward the dingy kitchen.
Creed dropped the box on the rickety table, his gaze sweeping the room. He guessed the walls had once been green, though now they were a dingy shade of gray. The floor was warped and discolored. The homemade table and chairs had obviously seen better days. The cupboard doors hung askew, and the oilcloth that covered the window over the dry sink was ripped down one side.
Damn, he thought, he wouldn't stable his horse in a dump like this.
Jassy felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she followed Creed's gaze. The house had always been ugly but now, seeing it through his eyes, it seemed even worse.
She lowered her head so he couldn't see her embarrassment, wishing she'd never let him inside the house.
"Jassy?"
"What?" She mumbled the word, refusing to meet his gaze.
Creed placed a finger beneath her chin and forced her head up so he could look into her eyes.
"You don't have anything to be ashamed of, Jassy," he said quietly. "It isn't your fault."
She felt a small glow begin inside her, a flickering flame of gratitude because he understood what she was feeling.
"Think you could fix me something to eat?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You can make something besides cookies, can't you?"
Jassy nodded, warmth flooding through her.
"There's a couple of steaks in there," Creed said, gesturing at the box. "I like mine rare."
"Me too."
He stared down at her, wondering what the hell he was doing. The silence stretched between them, thick, palpable. He was aware of the faint scent of soap and sunshine that clung to Jassy's hair and skin. Her eyes were a warm luminous brown, completely without guile as she returned his gaze.
Creed dragged a hand through his hair. What was he doing here?
"I'm going outside for a smoke," he muttered, leaving the kitchen before her nearness made him forget she was just a kid.
Minutes later, he was sitting on the top step, the cigarette in his hand forgotten as he stared into the distance. He wasn't doing Jassy any favor by being here, he mused bleakly. People being what they were, they would no doubt jump to the conclusion that Jassy had decided to ply her sisters's trade and that Creed was her first steady customer.
Personally, he had never cared what people thought about him, but he hated to be responsible for blackening Jassy's reputation. She was a good girl. She deserved a better life than the one that seemed to be waiting for hercertainly a better life than he could give her.
He swore under his breath. Where had that thought come from? He didn't need a woman in his life, especia
lly a white woman, not after what had happened the last time.
Tomorrow he would buy her enough groceries to last the rest of the week, and then he'd hightail it out of town before he got in any deeper than he already was.
Creed ignored Gratton's inquisitive gaze as he entered the mercantile the next morning. He heard several curious whispers as he stood at the counter, waiting for Gratton to fill his order, and he knew that the news of his visit to Jassy's house the night before was already being reported by the good women of the town.
Damn! Well, he'd give them something else to talk about, he thought as he walked back to the ladies ready-to-wear department and picked out a pale pink blouse and a flounced skirt made of a dark pink print. He looked around for the green dress, but it was gone.
He told Gratton to add the clothing to his other stuff, dropped a handful of greenbacks on the counter, and left the store, conscious of the speculative stares that followed him out the door.
Jassy looked up at Creed, genuinely surprised to see him. He hadn't said anything about coming back after last night. She had never spent an evening alone with a man before, and dinner the previous evening had been awkward at best. Alone with Creed, all rational thought had fled her mind. Time and again, she had found herself staring at him, unable to believe that he was there, that he had chosen to spend the evening with her.
"Mornin'," Creed said.
"Good morning."
He shifted the box in his arms. I probably ate up most of the grub I bought yesterday," he said with a wry grin, "so I thought I'd better restock your shelves for you. Here."
He shoved a paper-wrapped parcel into her hands. "This is for you. To replace the one your mother took back."
"You don't have to do that."
"I know. I want to."
Jassy clutched the package to her chest and a smile bubbled up inside her as she stepped aside to let him in. "Have you had breakfast?"
He shook his head. "Not yet."
"Are you hungry?"
"Yeah."
"Eggs and bacon a right with you?"
Creed nodded. Last night, she had proved herself to be a good cook.
He followed her into the kitchen, placed the box on the table, then sat down in one of the dilapidated ladder-back chairs and watched her fry the bacon and eggs. She could probably get a job cooking at one of the restaurants, he thought, admiring the sway of her hips as she crossed the floor to take a couple of plates out of the cupboard. The pay wouldn't add up to much, but it would beat working in one of the cribs.
Jassy smiled shyly as she offered Creed a plate piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes. She filled his coffee cup, then sat down across from him. Unable to help herself, she pretended that Creed was her husband, that they ate breakfast together every day, that soon he would go off to work and she'd spend the day cleaning and sewing, all the while waiting for his return.
Creed ate in silence, aware of Jassy's covert glances, of the flush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. He wondered what she was thinking that kept the color high in her cheeks, but decided it wouldn't be prudent to ask.
With a sigh, he pushed his plate away and sat back in his chair, one hand wrapped around his coffee cup.
"What are you gonna do today?" he asked.
"I don't know. Rosie told me to stay in the house and keep out of trouble."
Staying out of trouble sounded like good advice, Creed thought. Too bad he wasn't smart enough to take it.
"How'd you like to go for a ride?"
"Really? Where? When?"
"Any place you like. Now."
She jumped to her feet, ran around the table, and hugged him. "Oh, Creed, could we go back to the valley where we went before?"
Warning bells went off in his mind as he remembered the kiss they'd shared that day, remembered the way Jassy had molded her body to his, begging him to make love to her.
She read the uncertainty in his expression. The excitement faded from her eyes and she stepped away from him, her hands clenched.
"I'm sorry. You don't have to take me anywhere, Creed."
"Jassy . . ."
"It's all right. I understand."
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin in a defiant gesture that went straight to his heart.
"You don't have to feel sorry for me, Mr. Maddigan. I can take care of myself."
"Do you want to go riding or not, Jassy?"
His quiet voice punctured her anger. "Yes, very much."
"How soon can you be ready?"
Jassy glanced around the kitchen. She'd have to put the rest of the groceries away, wash the dishes, change her clothes. "Half an hour?"
Creed nodded. "Don't be late," he said with a wink, and settling his hat on his head, he left the house, whistling softly.
Chapter Five
Creed headed out of town the back way, hoping no one would notice the two of them riding out together. He had stopped at the livery stable and rented an even-tempered bay gelding for Jassy to ride. She had smiled her thanks as he helped her mount. She looked pretty as a picture in her new clothes.
Jassy was quiet the first mile or so, and Creed wondered again why he was spending so much time with her, why he didn't head for Black Hawk and get on with his life. But then he slid a glance in her direction, and he knew why he hadn't left town. The sun seemed to dance in her hair, making it glow like living fire. Her gaze darted from side to side, her eyes bright with the wonder of discovery, and it occurred to him that she probably didn't get out of town very often. Seeing the world through her eyes would be like seeing it for the first time.
She looked over at him and smiled, her expression radiant, her eyes shining with such happiness that it made him ache inside. Time and again, she leaned forward to stroke her horse's neck, and each time Creed's body hardened as he imagined those untutored fingers running over his chest and down his thigh, imagined her beautiful dark eyes staring up at him, hazy with passion. . . .
Muttering an oath, he slammed the door on his rampant thoughts.
As they rode alongside the stream, Jassy marveled anew at the beauty of the prairie that stretched ahead of them for miles. But it was Creed's face that drew her attention over and over again. She never tired of looking at him, of watching the easy way he sat in the saddle, the way his gaze moved over the countryside, ever wary, missing nothing. She loved to watch the play of muscles in his back and shoulders when he moved.
Occasionally she met his glance and felt the heat that smoldered in the depths of his eyes. He was a man grown, she mused, not a boy like Harry Coulter. The thought should have frightened her; instead, it filled her with a sense of exhilaration, as if she were on the verge of some wondrous discovery.
Her heartbeat quickened when they reached the valley. Creed had kissed her here. Unconsciously, she licked her lower lip, remembering, wondering if he would kiss her again.
Creed drew his horse to a halt beneath a lacy willow tree. Dismounting, he lifted Jassy from the bay and slowly lowered her feet to the ground.
She gazed up into his eyes, her every thought, her every desire, shining in her dark gaze.
And in spite of every warning he'd given himself, Creed Maddigan lowered his head and kissed her, his lips drinking deeply from hers, as if she were life itself and he was a man on the brink of destruction.
Her lips were soft and smooth and warm. At the touch of his tongue, she swayed against him, her breasts pressing against his chest as her lips parted in silent invitation.
Creed wrapped his arms around her, and together they slowly sank to the ground. He kissed her for a long time, his mouth playing softly over her lips, her eyelids, the curve of her cheek, the tip of her nose, the lobe of her ear. His hands burned to explore the gentle contours of her body, but he knew that if he touched her, he'd be lost. And so he kissed her instead, his tongue laving the sweet length of her neck, the pulse that vibrated in the hollow of her throat. It was the most exquisitely painful p
leasure he had ever known, touching without taking, exploring without possessing.
Jassy moaned softly as the tender torment went on and on. She pressed herself against Creed, her hands roaming over his broad back and shoulders, delighting in the play of powerful muscles beneath her questing fingertips. His body was hard and firm and infinitely fascinating. His kisses made her yearn for something she didn't fully understand, made her blood race and her heart pound with such ferocity that she feared it might burst within her breast. Heat flowed in her and through her, until she was on fire for him. And when she thought she might die of the ecstacy wrought by his lips and his tongue, he let her go and stood up.
For a moment, she could only stare at him, too dazed to speak. He stood with his back to her, his hands clenched at his sides, as he drew in several long, shuddering breaths. Then he turned around.
''Come on," Creed said, offering her his hand, we'd better go for a walk."
"A walk?" She blinked up at him through eyes cloudy with desire.
"A walk," Creed said.
Confused, she placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. "But . . .'
"But what?"
"I . . ." She glanced away, embarrassed. I want you to kiss me some more."
"And I want to kiss you," Creed said, his voice raspy and uneven. "And that's why we're going for a walk."
"Is walking a good idea? I mean, what about your leg? Does it still hurt?"
"Not as much as some other places," Creed muttered. "Come on, let's walk."
She didn't argue. She was too happy to be with him, too caught up in his nearness, in the taste of his kisses, to let anything dull her happiness.
Hand in hand, they walked across the valley floor, their footsteps muffled by a carpet of thick grass. She listened to the birds singing in the trees, remembering how she had thought the valley looked like a fairy place the last time they had been here.
Now, with her lips still tingling from Creed's kisses, she knew that it was, indeed, a fairy place, a magical place where old dreams came true, and new ones were born. She slid a glance at Creed. She had read a story once of a frog who had been turned into a prince.
Madeline Baker - Lakota Renegade Page 4