Kiss Of The Night Wind

by Taylor, Janelle

  His confidence dispelled her worries. “Where did you get this stuff? Did you go into Tucson?”

  He lit the lantern and began unpacking supplies. “Nope, too dangerous. I stole it from a rancher not far away. I also shot us a rabbit. Roasted meat,” he murmured and licked his lips. He was honest on those replies. He hadn’t dared enter Tucson to look for Joe Collins or to send telegrams to his superiors from Ben Myers’s town. “I knew if I told you my plans when I left here, you would argue and worry.”

  “You’re right,” she concurred. “That was quite a risk.”

  He shrugged wearily. “The horses have to eat and drink, and we have to see. Why don’t you fetch that rain water for them while I take some of this stuff to our camping area? I’ll build a fire and be back shortly for you.” He didn’t want her to see the wood and supplies he had brought here early Thursday morning after his Wednesday night talk with Collins. Just in case they had needed to escape quickly and conceal themselves for a while, he had prepared things to camp here. If she noticed his preparations, she would wonder about them. “I’m sure there’s plenty of brush back there from old camping trips, but I’ll check while I’m gone.” He loaded up and lifted the lantern to illuminate his path. Within minutes, he and the lamp’s glow vanished.

  Carrie Sue held the bucket outside and let the pouring rain fill it. She carried the pail to the horses and let each one drink. Afterwards, she refilled it again and placed it nearby. While she waited T.J.’s return, she stroked the pinto. As always, she mused, T.J. had logical reasons and credible explanations for everything. Either he was the cleverest man alive or he was being honest with her!

  The redhead’s partner rejoined her, without his shirt and boots. His wet hair curled in mischievous black waves, as did the hair on his hard chest. His saturated jeans clung enticingly to his hips and thighs, hinting at their strength and sleek shape. He was carrying two blankets over his left arm and a hunk of soap in his hand, and two lanterns.

  T.J. nodded at the items and suggested, “Why don’t we take turns getting a bath in nature’s shower right outside the entrance? It’ll be easier than poking holes in a pail and hanging it from a rope. After what we’ve been through during the past two days, I know it’ll make me feel better. You wanna be first or last?”

  “Last,” she responded. “Where did you get the other lantern?”

  “It was in the back. Somebody left it there, thank goodness.”

  She waited in the large cavern for T.J. to walk to the entrance, strip off his jeans, wet himself, lather up, rinse off, and return to her location. While he was busy, she stripped and wrapped the blanket around her to be ready to do the same task after he finished.

  Before leaving him there, she admired his magnificent body clad only in a blanket around the hips. She smiled when he warned her to walk carefully, as the rock flooring was slippery when wet.

  Carrie Sue dropped the blanket just inside the cave. She stepped outside and drenched her hair and body, aware that no one could sight her in the blinding downpour. She gingerly stepped beneath the protective ceiling of stone and lathered herself from head to foot. It felt exhilarating to scrub the dirt and sweat from her hair and flesh, and she savored the refreshing chore as long as possible. She let the water rinse away the suds before standing just inside the cave to dry off with the blanket. She shivered from a chill as a blast of wind blew rain against her.

  Carrie Sue stepped further into the passageway and dried off again. She wrapped the damp blanket around her and tucked it snugly above her breasts. Carefully she made her way back to T.J. “It’s getting dark and cool outside,” she remarked as she squeezed more water from her long hair. She shuddered again.

  T.J. had placed one lantern on the rock shelf near his saddle, out of reach of horses’ hooves. He doused the campfire and said, “That’ll give them plenty of light and I won’t have to keep checking on the fire. Let’s get you to that warm blaze in back. Dry your feet good or you could slip on these rocks. Some of the pathway is steep.”

  As she obeyed, Carrie Sue didn’t mention the two bodies in the side tunnel, but she remembered they were there in the darkness. Even though they were enemies, now that their peril was over, she hated to just discard them like unwanted trash. Yet, they couldn’t turn the bodies in and there was no way to bury the two men. She gathered her clothes and boots and followed her love into the shadows.

  They headed into the right tunnel, then rounded a sharp bend whose passageway led into a nice sized chamber. They zig-zagged left into an even larger chamber where draperies of stone looked like a frozen waterfall. T.J. paused for a while and moved the lantern back and forth so she could view the awesome sight.

  In all areas the walls were mostly shades of brown—ranging from tan to chocolate hues—with a few shades of gray and white intermingled. Most of the side walls and flooring were smooth, almost slick, even when dry. It appeared as if a massive underground river had created this series of chambers and passageways and had rubbed them smooth over a long period of time. She was amazed by the wildly beautiful formations from the floor and the ceiling, which were sometimes unending like columns holding up a structure.

  Here and there, they had to walk on sideways slants or down almost too steep paths of solid stone. On occasion, they had to duck low ledges with sharp and jagged tips. She noticed how some formations looked like the saguaro cactus set in stone. They passed areas where the flooring seemed to have ripples like stone waves on a strange sea. Many of the chambers were enormous, others small and cramped. The tunnels ranged from narrow and low to wide and tall. They followed the often snaking path through the darkness lighted by one lantern, which she prayed wouldn’t go out. Merciful Heavens, she decided, it would be black as soot and scary as hell in there.

  T.J. told her these passageways ran for miles in numerous directions. In one side tunnel there was a sink hole which had no doubt ensnared some unlucky explorers. They walked deeper into the crystal caverns until the path opened up into an oblong chamber where a cheery fire chased away more darkness. Even though a river had once eaten away at this underground area, it was totally dry now. A sandy bed had been left behind upon which T.J. had made their camp.

  She glanced around, relieved this area was flat and large. She saw brush and wood piled in several places, and she saw evidence of old campfires. She looked at her lover when he put aside their things and told her to follow him again before she got comfortable.

  They retraced their steps for a few feet. “This isn’t far, Carrie Sue. When you reach this fork, go left and round this corner. This is the outhouse when you need it.”

  Without further delay or embarrassing words, he guided her back to their campground. “I’ll start the rabbit roasting while you get that head dry and get on something warm.”

  Carrie Sue pulled a nightgown from her pouch, glad she had brought it along impulsively. Since no one could find them, she could be comfortable. As T.J. was facing away from her, she didn’t turn her back to drop the blanket and pull the gown over her head. Then, she bent forward to dry her hair with the blanket. When she went to sit near the fire, she brushed and braided her flaming mane while T.J. prepared coffee and readied the Johnnycake mix of plain flour and water with a pinch of salt. She watched him cut strips of salted pork for obtaining grease in which to cook the flatbread, and he placed them in a small frying pan.

  “You’re handy to have around, Mr. Rogue. I could get mighty spoiled with all this attention.”

  “I thought all women were spoiled,” he teased, grinning at her.

  “Most men think we are.” She retorted and laughed. A contradictory sensation filled her; it seemed strange being here with him, yet perfectly normal. It was as if they were the only two people in existence, or as if they had escaped far from grim reality. Primitive feelings were aroused by their simple and cozy setting and his state of dress. Dreamily she remarked, “With that blanket wrapped around you, if your hair was long, you’d look like an India
n.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t say half-breed. That’s a nasty name, and I sure was called it a lot after my so-called rescue by the cavalry. That and a savage rogue,” he added unthinkingly. He caught himself before telling her that was how and where he had gotten his undercover name. He rubbed his smokey gray eyes and said, “Lordy, I’m tired.”

  Carrie Sue gazed at him and agreed, “You look it, partner. Did I thank you for losing all that sleep to catch up with us and rescue me?”

  “Yep.” His gaze met hers, and they stared at each other. He noticed the azure gown which flowed over her soft curves like sensuous waves, and his body warmed. He drowned himself for a time in the bluish depths of her engulfing gaze. He wanted to loosen her hair and let the red mane flow around her face and shoulders like a tranquil and inviting waterfall. He longed to caress that silky flesh of rosy gold. He wanted to run his forefinger over brows which matched her tawny red hair. He yearned to kiss her nose and full lips, her shapely cheekbones. He craved to trail his hot tongue along her collarbone, to tease it over the throbbing pulse in her neck, to dip it into the hollow at her throat, to send it between her breasts and down her stomach and…“You have the prettiest hair and eyes I’ve seen on any woman,” he complimented her unexpectedly, uncontrollably. He shook his head to clear it and his hand stroked his whiskered jawline. “I need a shave,” he murmured as if suddenly feeling awkward.

  Carrie Sue realized this secluded and intimate situation made the carefree loner a little nervous. She was certain he had had plenty of sex, but love and closeness were new for him, and no doubt intimidating. Tonight they were totally alone, so either they talked casually or they would create an uneasy silence. She was touched by his near loss of poise, and it enflamed her passions to witness it. Surely that told her how deeply and strongly he was affected by her. “Thanks, partner; I like your looks too. What do you want me to do to help?” she inquired, aware of the heavy sensual aura around them.

  “Just sit there and let me admire you,” he replied huskily, then cautioned himself to stop acting like…Like what, a lovesick boy? He had to get control of himself and the situation or he’d foul up!

  His words, expression, and mood aroused her. “That’s too easy. Give me something harder,” she almost whispered in a strained voice.

  He rubbed his jawline again and looked hesitant. His keen mind shouted, Get on with your work and stop acting like an ass! She’s opened the door, so jump in fast before she slams it again! “Would you get mad or upset if I asked you about Curly James? I saw you two talking that day and couldn’t figure it out. It didn’t look like strangers meeting. How did you know a bastard like him?”

  The ex-outlaw drew up her knees and banded her legs with her arms, interlocking her fingers. She wet her lips and answered, “I’ll admit I lied to you that day, but you now realize I had no choice. I was pretending to be a schoolmarm, and I hadn’t known you very long. Curly James rode with my brother a long time ago in Texas. He recognized me and wanted to know what I was doing in Tucson. I told him the truth and he agreed to keep my secret. To answer your next question, no, I didn’t believe him and I was wondering if I should leave town before he could trick me. You saved me from that choice and problem when you gunned him down. Curly never was one to be trusted. He was wild, reckless, and mean. He was always disobeying Darby’s orders and getting the gang into trouble, so Darby asked him to leave.”

  He hinted, “I don’t imagine Curly took that news well.”

  “No, but the other men agreed with Darby’s decision.” She told him what Curly had said about Quade and Ferris, and of her suspicions about both men. He agreed with her. Yet, she didn’t tell him about Curly claiming to have seen Darby and his plans to rejoin the gang.

  T.J. shifted his position on the ground. He cleared his throat and asked bravely, “Speaking of your brother, don’t you think it’s about time you tell me about him and your life with his gang? I’ve been biting my tongue to keep silent. I was afraid of making you nervous if I pressed for more information, but I need to know more about you, woman. I figured you’d speak up when you were ready, but you’ve stayed tight-lipped. I kept thinking you’d open up when you realized you could trust me. Why haven’t you, Carrie Sue?”

  She fused her violet-blue gaze to his entreating one and responded, “I was wondering why you haven’t asked me those questions. Frankly, it had me worried. You’re right; you deserve to know more. My brother didn’t like killing unless it couldn’t be helped. But Curly did a lot of shooting; then, he’d tell Darby he was forced into it. Darby knows that robberies and rustlings don’t create posses the way killings do. Despite what people think and say about my brother, he isn’t cold-blooded. Like me, he was forced into this miserable life and he can’t get out of it. Mostly he uses the same six men, but some jobs called for extra guns. He was always careful about the men he let join his gang for a while, but sometimes he got fooled and let a bad one in. As soon as he realized his mistake, he corrected it.”

  T.J. wanted to ask if one of those mistakes was responsible for the deaths of Arabella and Marie and Jacob, but he couldn’t, not yet. “You love him a lot, don’t you?”

  Carrie Sue’s eyes softened and glowed. “Yes, I do. We’ve always been close.” She told him about their Georgia farm and its loss to a wicked Carpetbagger, and how her father had obtained vengeful justice. She related facts about the Texas ranch and how the Hardings had taken it from them, killing her parents during the process, and how she and Darby had gone after revenge. She explained about her years with the gang and her attempts at new beginnings, chances always spoiled by Quade Harding, the man who had barbwired her love to a tree to die. She explained how her identity had been kept secret until Quade unmasked her with that new poster.

  She went on, “In ’73, Darby and a few of his closest friends tried to go straight. They bought a ranch near Laredo. We stayed there for eight months and everything was wonderful. I even had my twenty-first birthday there in April. Then, Quade Harding had us tracked down. We had to leave everything behind but the clothes on our backs and our horses. We hid out in Mexico for months. That’s when Quade released the men’s descriptions—I suppose to get a line on me. May of ’74 was when he put out that bad sketch just to scare me. We’ve been on the move ever since, surviving the only way left open to us.”

  She talked about how people used to love Darby’s legend—until false charges, mistakes, and sensational newspaper accounts had darkened his image. She admitted they had shot several of Quade’s men during raids and pursuits, and shot other men in self-defense. She told him they had been accused of Quinn’s accident, which was a lie. She claimed that their “groundless harassment” of the Hardings and responsibility for Quinn’s crippling were the devious lies which Quade used to explain his large rewards.

  Her story moved him deeply, but he had to ignore such feelings to do what had to be done. Maybe she was telling the truth about Darby Stover, or perhaps she was blinded by her love for her brother. Either way, he had to capture the Stover Gang. He quelled his guilt to continue. “Your dealings with Quade Harding explain why he’s so determined to capture you and get rid of Darby. Until now, he’s held silent to get you back alive and safe. I guess he finally realized you’re too smart to get snared. Maybe he’s hoping you’ll rush back to him for help and protection.

  “Never!” she vowed coldly. “I’d hang first!”

  T.J. understood Quade’s obsession with this ravishing vixen. But he would go down shooting before he let Harding get his vile hands on her! As he turned the rabbit to roast the other side, he asked, “Have you ever been captured or tried to clear yourself?”

  She sighed heavily, bitterly. “Yes, I was captured once. Darby busted me out of jail just before two deputies raped me. Another time, I turned myself in to a Texas Ranger. I had the drop on him, but I couldn’t gun him down to escape. Besides, I figured if anybody could help me get a fair shake, it was a Ranger. He cursed me and beat me and ne
arly broke my arm before I wounded him and escaped. I wore a sling for two months. Then, Quade’s detective caught up with me several times with his threats and abuse, but I always managed to get away. I guess that explains why I have trouble trusting men.”

  T.J. was shocked by those confessions, and he didn’t doubt them. But he’d never heard of a Ranger capturing the Texas Flame. Considering her treatment by the tainted lawman, no wonder he’d kept silent! Later, he would get the man’s name from her and take care of him! “Yep, I understand. I wish I could think of someone to help you, but I can’t.” Even if he did know some powerful men, he couldn’t tell her at this time and he didn’t believe there was anything his friends could do for her.

  Carrie Sue smiled sadly, but gratefully. “There is nothing and no one to help me, T.J. Darby and I got in too deeply and there is no escape for us. We’ll have to keep running and hiding until we’re jailed or hanged or we get far enough away to be left alone. When I locate him, I’m going to try to persuade him to head for Montana or California or the Dakotas. He thinks fleeing is useless because somebody finds us wherever we go, if we don’t stay in hiding. We can’t do that forever. We have to eat.” She gazed at him tenderly. “I wish you could have met Darby before all this mess changed him. I’m worried about him. He’s been forced to stay in a life of crime too long. I’m afraid it’s going to make him hard and cold, and make him do things he doesn’t want to do. If you want to know the truth, partner, I’m not as afraid of hanging as I am of prison. And that’s probably what the law would do with a young woman. If only I could rub out my past as easily as you get rid of your trail or enemies, but I can’t. Quade has forced me out of hiding again. After trying so many times to start over, I’m beginning to doubt it’s possible. I suppose the only thing I can do is rejoin Darby.”