Big Sky Lawman

by Marilyn Pappano

  Seconds passed as they simply looked at each other. She did love him. Sloan could see it in her eyes, could feel it in her touch. She loved him more than she’d ever pretended to love her bastard fiancé, and he intended to see to it that she loved him for the rest of their lives.

  “I haven’t yet apologized for the way I acted today,” she said, but he shook his head.

  “I don’t want an apology. I just want you.” He wasn’t sure what was so right about his words, but they brought her a sweetly delighted smile that he couldn’t resist kissing. Gathering her close, he deepened the kiss immediately, sliding his tongue into her mouth as he slid his hands over her body. Even without seeing, he knew she was a marvel of perfection. Her skin was soft and pale, her curves nicely rounded, her muscles long and lean. Her breasts were soft, her nipples incredibly hard, her waist narrow, her hips womanly.

  As he memorized the way her skin quivered when he stroked over her belly, the way her heart pounded beneath his hand, the way he could make her muscles tighten, then relax, then tighten again, she was doing the same to him, touching him as he’d fantasized since seeing her that long-ago day in the grocery store. There was no hesitance as she glided her hands over his stomach, no tentativeness as she slid one hand to his groin. She touched him with the certainty of a woman who knew what she wanted. She aroused him, made him hard, hot, hungry as hell. The way she was stroking him, cupping him, making him swell, he knew this first time wasn’t going to be slow and leisurely…but the next would be.

  By mutual unspoken agreement, they were moving into place, her long, slender body underneath his, her hips cradling his, her legs twining with his, when the last bit of common sense he possessed crept to the front of his mind. Twisting free of her mouth, he breathed deeply, then squeezed his eyes shut to regain some bit of control so he could gasp, “I don’t…have any…any condoms…”

  She touched his face, a series of light, gentle touches that both soothed and tormented. “James never forgot condoms,” she murmured, “and since him, I’ve been alone. If it’s protection you’re worried about, I’m clean. If it’s birth control…” Her smile was loving and wistful and wishful. “Let’s not worry.”

  The thought of Crystal pregnant was a powerful one. He gave her a hard, possessive kiss at the same time he entered her. Once he’d filled her, once her body gloved his in a perfect, snug, made-for-each-other fit, he murmured, “I never forgot, either, and I’ve been alone a long time, too. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  She’d been right that the cold didn’t matter. They generated their own heat. His skin was damp and slick, and slid against hers with a friction he felt all the way to his toes. She matched his rhythm and increased it, urging him with her hands, her mouth, her body, to thrust deeper, harder, faster. Already on edge and unbearably aroused, he was happy to comply, sliding his hands underneath her, pressing her flesh to his, taking her for a greedy, demanding, frantic ride. With her soft cries and his ragged breaths echoing in his head, he stiffened, gave a great groan, then filled her. With her own great groan, she came, too, her hands clutching his arms, her body clinging to his, with intense shudders ricocheting through her, intense emotion claiming her.

  For a long time he remained where he was, braced above her, still inside her, until his arms began to tremble from the effort. Gentle waves of pure pleasure replaced the thundering rush of need. Languid satisfaction, both physical and mental, claimed his body, made it heavy, as he slowly sank to lie half on their makeshift bed, half on Crystal.

  Nuzzling her shoulder, he opened one eye to see that her own eyes were closed. A single tear slipped from the corner and left a trail across pale china skin before it disappeared into her hair, and her mouth was curved into the sweetest, most satisfied-woman smile he’d ever seen. Understanding both the tear and the smile, he grinned. “What does a polite and proper Southern girl say after making love?”

  She turned her head to look at him. “I think a heartfelt ‘Wow!’ sums it up. I can’t move.” He automatically started to shift his weight off her, but, belying her pronouncement, she caught hold of him and pulled him back. “Every nerve in my body is tingling. Even the soles of my feet feel different.”

  “And we’ve hardly even started,” he teased.

  She slid her fingers into his hair, combing, playing, and oh, so seriously spoke his name. “Sloan? I know you said I don’t have to say it, but…I do love you. Just so you know.”

  He turned onto his side and pulled her onto hers. Her thigh was between his, her belly pressing against his rapidly reviving arousal, her breasts rubbing his chest. With a bit of maneuvering, he was inside her again, and his hand was covering her breast, making her nipple harden and her breathing go shallow. “I know,” he murmured as he watched her eyes flutter shut and he began a slow, lazy thrust that filled her through her soul. “I’m glad you know, too.”

  Crystal lay on her back, her head pillowed on Sloan’s arm, and gazed at the millions of bright stars sparkling above. She’d always found the Montana sky an impressive sight, but never more so than tonight. Every cold dark night the rest of her life, she would think of Sloan and this night, and she would smile…or drag him off for an encore performance.

  “Aren’t they beautiful?” she asked, her voice so small and insignificant in the big meadow under the big sky.

  “Hmm.”

  She glanced at Sloan and found him looking at her with such tenderness. Swallowing over the lump in her throat, she said, “I mean the stars.”

  “Yeah, them, too.”

  She directed her gaze up again. “To think that they’re so far away, that this light we’re seeing started its journey to earth ages ago, that some of these stars we’re seeing don’t even exist any longer. It’s incredible.”

  “Hmm.” He grinned when she gave him a chastening look. “I know. You meant the stars. But you’re pretty damn incredible, too.”

  She turned onto her side and snuggled as close to him as she could get. She opened her mouth to say something about how utterly amazing he was, but the words that came were a total surprise. “What is Marita to you?”

  He needed a moment to shift gears, then gave an awkward shrug. “At the risk of sounding callous, nothing. I’ve known her all my life, but we’ve never been friends.”

  “She was clinging to you.”

  He made a dismissive gesture. “She’s playing a game. She’s looking to see how many Indians she can have sex with before she settles down and marries the respectable white guy her father’s picked out for her.”

  “Does your friend know that?”

  “Everyone knows. Tonight Elkshoulder just didn’t care.” He stroked her back, rubbing with even pressure over every vertebra, making her stretch like a cat against him. “Do you want to ask if I’ve slept with her?”

  She gave him a reproving look. “I have more respect for you than that.”

  “Respect?” he teased. “For a lowly Cheyenne cop who lacks ambition, a pedigree, a fancy college degree and everything else women like you are supposed to want?”

  “Oh, darlin’, you have everything I want,” she replied with a throaty laugh. Finding soft, warm skin beneath her hand, she began rubbing his stomach in slow circles. “I thought you were going to make me apologize in front of your friends.”

  “I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind. But it would have been cruel, and I was afraid you’d leave and, of course, I’d have to go after you.”

  “I was afraid I’d leave and you wouldn’t come after me.”

  “That’ll never happen.” He said it quietly, with no great emotion, no emphasis. Just a simple statement of fact. A promise she could believe in. And she did believe him—believed in him.

  Savoring the comfort and pleasure of that fact, she raised her head to tell him so. The grimness of his expression stopped her, though. Feeling a tiny shiver inside, she waited for him to say whatever had turned him so bleak.

  “If I had known your history with James,
I never would have threatened to tell the Montgomerys anything about your vision. I never would have bluffed about exposing you to gossip and ridicule.”

  She considered his solemn words for a moment, then cheerfully disagreed. “Sure, you would have.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she silenced him with her fingertips on his lips. “You wouldn’t have carried through, but you would have made the threat, because it was the only way to get me to cooperate, and you needed my cooperation. I don’t blame you, Sloan. I would have played it out the same way if I’d been you. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I never would have hurt you.”

  “I know that now. Don’t worry about it. If you hadn’t threatened to expose me, I never would have helped you, and we wouldn’t be here like this tonight.”

  “Yes, we would,” he replied. “Maybe not tonight, but sooner or later.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “It was inevitable. From the first time I ever saw you, I knew you were meant to be mine.”

  She looked to see if he was teasing, but there was nothing but bold confidence and smug certainty in his expression. Meant to be mine. She couldn’t think of anything nicer.

  Silence settled between them then—comfortable, warm, peaceful. She and James had had a lot of silences between them, but never like this. She’d been too busy worrying that he would find out she was pretending to be someone she wasn’t, or that she wouldn’t measure up to his standards, or that she would disappoint her parents again, and he…

  The truth was he had gone long periods of time without thinking of her, even when she was right beside him. The plainest, simplest truth was he had never loved her, had never really wanted her, had never given a damn about her. Just as he had been the means of winning her parents’ approval, to him she had been one more step along the journey of his political ambition. He’d had the right family name, the right upbringing, the right education, the right job and the right support. All he’d needed was the right wife…but she’d turned out to be very wrong.

  For the first time she could smile about it.

  “What are you grinning about?” Sloan asked.

  Before she could answer, a light streaking across the sky caught her attention. “Look, a shooting star.”

  “Make a wish.”

  Closing her eyes, she did. When she felt him move, when his gentle, talented fingers closed over her breast, rousing her nipple, when he slid down to take it in his mouth, she gasped, then gave a deeply satisfied sigh. “Hey,” she said delightedly, threading her fingers through his hair in a silent plea for more. “How did you know what I wished for?”

  Eleven

  Wednesday was the day before Thanksgiving and offered little to be thankful for. It was cold, without even a hint of sun, and a drizzle was coming down, not heavy enough to call off their search, but enough to make a person miserable.

  Sloan and Crystal sat in the Jeep at the end of the narrow road. She’d asked for a minute before they headed for the clearing, so for several moments they’d sat there, motor and heater running. His arm was stretched between the seats, his hand on her neck under her hair. He’d made love to her again last night and slept all night with her in his arms, but he couldn’t get enough of touching her. It seemed to fill some need in him and, at the same time, double or triple it. The more he touched her, the more he wanted to touch her.

  Right now, as pale and uneasy as she looked, he really needed to touch her.

  Sometime after midnight the cold had overcome the romance, and they’d packed up and gone to his apartment. After an early breakfast there, he’d driven her to the Branding Iron to pick up Winona’s truck. He’d pointed out Marita’s car a few spaces away, and she’d shaken her head. “Shameless woman,” she’d said with a sexy smile. “Gone off to spend the night with some handsome Cheyenne, and she doesn’t care who knows it.”

  He’d pulled her close and murmured, “I like shameless women,” and she’d blushed. So innocent, and so bold. So proper and polite, and so incredibly passionate. So delicate, and so strong. He loved the contradictions that were her. Hell, he just plain loved her.

  With a deep breath and a shaky sigh, she turned to him. “Shall we go?”

  He shut off the ignition, zipped his yellow slicker and climbed out. She was out, too, by the time he circled the truck. Her slicker was hot pink and belonged to Winona. It was big enough to allow for warm clothes underneath—jeans and a heavy sweater—and the sleeves fell practically to her fingertips. She pulled the hood over her hair, but didn’t tighten the drawstring.

  He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “I’d give anything if I didn’t have to take you up there again.”

  With a feeble smile, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I’ll be all right.” But she didn’t sound very convincing.

  They followed the trail to the clearing without conversation. What could he say to make her feel better? What could she say to make him stop worrying?

  There Crystal walked straight to the place where Christina’s presence was strongest. She stood there, eyes closed, arms folded over her chest. Sloan went to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Without opening her eyes, she turned her face toward him and smiled a thin, sickly smile. “Thanks. I need that.”

  After a time—he couldn’t say whether it was one minute or ten—she asked, “Is there another road out here besides the one we used?”

  “I don’t know. There may be a logging road or a utility right-of-way. Maybe an old ranch road. Why?”

  “There’s a car, parked on a road where no one will see it.”

  That would explain how Christina had gotten to the clearing, Sloan thought, and how she’d planned to leave. They’d done an aerial search of the whole county shortly after her disappearance, but it was easy to miss a car from the air. Park it under some trees, still leafed out in August, and the sharpest eyes in the sky wouldn’t see it.

  Shrugging out of his arms, Crystal took his hand and left the clearing, following a faint trail. He’d walked it for a couple of miles on Monday, finding nothing, but he didn’t tell her that.

  All through the hills, trails crossed and circled around on each other. Periodically, she stopped and gazed around, seeking clues that he couldn’t begin to guess at. After a time, the path they were following diverged into two. They ran parallel, like different tracks of the same path, for a few hundred feet, then gradually separated.

  She stood motionless, gazing from one to the other, seemingly unaware of the drizzle, the cold or him. Finally she took a hesitant step to the right, followed by another. As she walked on, her manner became more confident, her step surer.

  Where the path was wider, Sloan moved to walk beside her. “What are you seeing?” he asked quietly.

  “I’m not. It’s more of a feeling, actually—a sensation. I can feel that Christina was here. She walked along this trail. She knew where she was going. It was familiar to her at night, but this time she was…” Her forehead wrinkled into a frown. “Not afraid. Tense. Afraid of being disappointed. And hopeful.”

  Where the path from the road to the clearing had been a steady climb, this one was a gentle slope. It was easier going, no more strenuous than a walk in the park. Trees were scarcer, so the sky was visible overhead. On a moonlit night, Sloan figured, a person could move with reasonable care at a decent pace without the aid of a flashlight.

  The trail came to an end between two tall boulders that looked as if they’d been deliberately placed to hold a gate, and just on the other side was a narrow, primitive road.

  Sloan gave Crystal an admiring look. “You’re good, darlin’. This road is perfect for someone who wants to get in and out of here without being seen.”

  She looked neither pleased nor satisfied. “Where do you suppose it comes out?”

  “God only knows. It’s not on any county maps that I’ve seen.” He stood in the center of the grassy lane, looking first one way, then t
he other. “So Christina arranged a meeting out here, possibly with the father of her baby, to…”

  “Ask him for money. To ask him to take the baby. Maybe to marry her and give his child his name. But why all the way out here? And why at night?”

  “To avoid being seen. She never even confirmed for anyone that she was pregnant. She sure as hell never gave anyone the name of the father. It was obviously their secret. But why the big deal?”

  “Maybe he was married. Maybe he was too old for her.”

  “Or too young. Or maybe he was Indian.” His smile was no more than a quirk. “Mayor Montgomery will tell you himself that he’s the least prejudiced man in all of Blue River County. Why, he likes Indians just fine. But he sure doesn’t want his daughter bringing one home to join the family, and he probably wouldn’t feel any more kindly toward an Indian grandchild than my mother’s parents would have.” He returned to lean against one boulder while she took up position against the other. “So Christina comes out here to meet someone. Does he show?”

  “Yes,” Crystal replied. It didn’t sound like a guess.

  “She goes into labor and delivers the baby. Surely he doesn’t go off and leave her and a newborn in the woods.”

  “Maybe he’s already gone before her labor starts. Or maybe he stays with her, then takes the baby away to care for it. Maybe—” She rubbed one hand across her forehead.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I just feel…unsettled.”

  He put his arms around her. Even through the layers of clothing separating them, he could feel that she was chilled. “Let’s go back to the truck and have some of whatever Winona put in those thermoses, then see if we can find out where this road goes.”

  Though she nodded, she didn’t look as if she found much relief in the suggestion. “We’re not through in these woods,” she whispered.

  They wouldn’t be, Sloan agreed, until they found Christina.

  With the trail made slippery by rain, it took them nearly an hour to hike back to the Jeep. There he once again started the engine and turned the heat to high while Crystal opened the basket Winona had packed for them.