Kiss Of The Night Wind

by Taylor, Janelle

  When he reached her, he held up the small animal and replied. “A javelina, small enough to be real tender and delicious after roasted. He must have gotten separated from his band. Usually they travel in herds of five to nearly thirty. Ever seen one? Or eaten one?”

  Carrie Sue shook her head as she eyed the creature with small ears, a protruding snout, and almost no tail. He looked to weigh about fifteen to twenty pounds and was dark gray. “He looks like a pig with hair,” she remarked, mischievously wrinkling her nose.

  T.J. put down his burden and rifle. “You’re right. The Apaches hunted them for their hides and meat, so I’ve eaten plenty, and killed plenty with a bow and arrows or a lance. These little boys usually nose around at night or real early in the morning, and get real mean if cornered or chased. When they send out an alarm to the herd, it’s almost like a bark. They scare your pants off if you spook ‘em. They chatter their teeth like the rattling of a sidewinder. I think you know what that is since you called me one in the cave,” he jested.

  Carrie Sue stuck out her tongue at him. She asserted, “You deserved it, partner, for scaring me witless.”

  T.J. chuckled merrily and teased, “Better watch it, Red, or I’ll clip off that tasty tongue and cook it for my breakfast.”

  When he roguishly yanked her against him and brushed his lips over hers, she murmured, “Is that what you like best about it?” She flicked her tongue over his lips as her subtle words reminded him of how rapturously it had worked on his body last night.

  “You’re a woman of many surprises, Carrie Sue Stover.”

  As if it had been weeks since they had been together, they hurriedly undressed and fell upon the rumpled bedrolls, making love in an urgent and stimulating rush. Both were panting breathlessly when they finished and rolled to their backs to rest.

  “Lordy, you keep me boiling all the time! But I surely do like how you cool me off. Shame that lack of heat doesn’t last long.”

  Carrie Sue wiggled half atop him and teased, “I’m glad it doesn’t. If you didn’t crave me as much as I do you, I’d have to get the drop on you and force you to do my bidding at gunpoint.”

  He locked their gazes and said, “Yep, it’s good we’re matched.”

  She nibbled at his sensual lips as her naked body rubbed against his. “I like all the things you’re teaching me, partner. I’m glad I brought you along. Just look what I’d be missing.”

  “There’s plenty more to learn and experience, Red. Just make certain you don’t use these facts and skills on anybody but me.”

  Carrie Sue gazed lovingly into his smokey gray eyes. She didn’t care if she was naked in daylight with this man. She also didn’t care that he was calling her “Red,” because he did it in such a provocative and seductive tone. “As long as you’re satisfied to remain my private teacher, I’ll stay your devoted student.”

  “That’s a bargain, my ex-schoolmarm. Right now,” he said, capturing her in his arms and coming to a standing position with ease and strength, “let’s get washed up and cook some breakfast.”

  T.J. carried her to the water and waded into it. They were waist deep before he placed her feet against the bottom. After kissing her soundly, he coaxed, “Get busy, woman. I’m starved.”

  Following their baths, they dressed and began their chores. While Carrie Sue gathered more wood, T.J. skinned and carved the peccary. She built a fire in the pit and made coffee as he took the unusable parts of the animal away from camp. She mixed Jonnycakes and started them while he cooked small strips of meat, the larger hunks to be roasted slowly to eat later. As he watched the cakes, she fetched their dishes and poured them coffee. They talked and ate.

  Carrie Sue smiled after the first few bites and said, “It’s good.”

  T.J. seemed utterly at ease this morning, smiling and chatting freely. He related some of his experiences during the war between the Northern and Southern states. He talked about some of the famous gunslingers and lawmen he had met over the years, and about a few run-ins with each. He told her about some of his adventures on the trail. Yet, everything he revealed, which could be checked out or might have been heard by her, was true about T.J. Rogue.

  Carrie Sue enjoyed their conversation and rapport, which continued while they cleared the dishes and he put the rest of the meat on to roast slowly over the next few hours. They strolled around as she related more about her farming days in Georgia and her ranching days in Texas. She revealed more about her experiences with Quade Harding on the QH Ranch near Brownwood, below Commanche on a map.

  When their talk came around to her brother, she spoke of their days growing up, not of their years on the trail as outlaws.

  But T.J. did. “Money, cattle, and goods can be replaced, but a life can’t. If you get caught, killings will be the hardest crimes to justify. I hope you don’t get involved again.” T.J. asked her about the killings they had been forced to commit.

  Her bright smile faded and her sunny mood darkened. The lovely fugitive looked dismayed by the direction of their conversation. She admitted that killing was repulsive to her and to Darby and that they always tried to avoid it, unless it was necessary.

  T.J. had to ask, “I know what makes killing necessary in my existence, Carrie Sue, but what makes it necessary in yours?”

  She began to fidget as she explained, “Stages are always ordered to halt when bandits approach, but some drivers are reckless or cocky. Unless they tried to escape us, there never was any shooting. Or unless we were being shot at and our lives were at stake. You already know why we had to defend ourselves against Quade and his men.”

  Despite her unease, he continued, “What about the innocent victims of your attacks, the old men, women, and children?”

  A haunted expression clouded her violet-blue eyes. “Can we skip over such a painful part of my life?” she entreated sadly.

  He nodded and asked, “Who was the Texas Ranger who abused you?”

  The flaming haired woman looked surprised by his unexpected question. Yet, she answered, “Virgil Ames. Why?”

  “Well, I won’t be able to teach him a lesson about how to treat women, even women in your predicament. He was shot by Bill Longley. Ever heard of him or met him?”

  “Heard of him, yes. Met him, luckily no. They don’t come any lower or viler than Longley. He hates Negroes and kills one every chance he gets. I hear he wears a goatee which gives him a devilish look. Doesn’t he do a lot of bounty hunting?”

  “Yep, every time he’s low on money. He’s only about twenty-five, but he has at least thirty killings to his name. He’s a wild and savage man. He’s just lucky the law hasn’t gotten something on him yet. If he comes after the Texas Flame, the law won’t have to worry about him anymore; I’ll take him coffin deep.”

  T.J. returned to the fire pit to check on the meat. He poured more coffee and leaned against a rock while he sipped the hot liquid gingerly. He smiled when she joined him. He resumed their conversation. “If Longley hadn’t gotten Virgil Ames, the Rangers would have soon. I hear they don’t like anybody, especially their own men, giving them a bad name. Ames gave me a hard time back in Texas, but I didn’t let him provoke me into being reckless. I suppose he tried the same thing with Bill Longley and it didn’t work. I don’t exactly know what happened but the law didn’t arrest Longley. That’s one less revenge we have to worry about.”

  “That’s a relief. I’ve always been nervous about running into him again. I knew that if that day ever came, I’d have to kill him and be in more trouble. You can’t go around shooting Rangers, even with good reason. I have to admit, Virgil Ames was the only bad one I’ve met.”

  He concurred, “Yep, you don’t run across many bad Rangers. Usually they’re straight talking and fair. If Ames had been a good one, things might be different for you today.”

  “And we wouldn’t have met,” she added meaningfully. “I wonder which episode will prove best for me,” she murmured evocatively.

  He grinned and asserted c
onfidently, “I will, naturally.”

  Carrie Sue smiled and relaxed again. “We’ll see, Mr. Rogue.”

  “Yep, Red, we will,” he replied, licking his lips.

  Time seemed to move by swiftly today, too swiftly to suit either of them. Both were acutely aware of their plans to leave this tranquil haven at dawn the next morning.

  Carrie Sue asked, “Will you take me to see that area northward?”

  “Yep, let’s saddle up. Grab your canteen and fill it.”

  Slowly they rode through the mountains located between the Sonoran and Chihuahuan Deserts. She saw and heard many bird species: busy flycatchers, Mexican chickadees, rufous-sided towhees who were scratching in the leaves, wrens with their laughing echoes in the canyons, raucous gray-breasted jays, and exotic-looking coppery tailed trogons.

  There was a variety of plant life which seemed unlikely to grow in the same or nearby location, but it did. There were cactus in the lowlands; stunted oaks and pines, twisted alligator junipers, and cypress in the dense forests in the canyons; and scrubby manzanita, buckthorn, and skunkbush on the ridges. Forests of ponderosa pines, Douglas firs, and aspens filled the higher slopes. There were dry, sandy spots; there were lush grassy ones.

  They reached their first destination, “the wonderful land of cliff formations.” She saw hedgehog cacti with their red blossoms sprouting between rocks. There was an abundance of creeks, supplying plenty of water for the animals of this wondrous world. T.J. lead her from place to place, sometimes on horseback and sometimes on foot.

  Extraordinary rock sculptures greeted her ever widening eyes. There were acres of pinnacles, organ pipe rocks, towering spires, massive stone columns, and enormous boulders delicately balanced on small pedestals. The incredible formations were a spectacular sight. The couple traveled the riparian trails through floral meadows, and cool woodlands, and along paths made by thousands of moccasined feet over the years.

  T.J. escorted her to the area called “Heart of Rocks.” There he showed her an echo canyon where she bounced words off the mocking stones, and a rock grotto which they could walk over, under, around, or through. She could see from the well-worn trail that it had been used many times in the past. They halted at Turkey Creek to rest and refresh themselves before heading back to their camp in the southern region of this splendid location.

  When they reached their campsite, T.J. checked on the meat which was cooking in the fire pit. He asked later, “Do you have any kin back in Georgia? Some relative who’ll take you in if you can get back there safely?”

  Her gaze was locked to his. “No, I don’t.”

  He clarified, “Once I get you back to your brother, if anything happens to Darby, you’ll be all alone?”

  “Yes,” she responded, if she didn’t have her lover at her side.

  T.J. exhaled loudly. “That’s something you have to think about, Carrie Sue. Considering the kind of life you two lead, he could get killed at any time. I’m sorry, but that’s a reality you have to face. What would you do?”

  She had faced that grim reality long ago, even if she hated to think about it. “If you mean what I think, T.J., I’m confused. I’d never stay with the boys if anything happened to Darby. I’ve already told you I’m leaving the gang after I see Darby once more.”

  “That isn’t what I was asking. What would happen with Darby’s gang if anything happened to him after I left you there to go after Harding? I mean, what would they do with you? How would they treat you? You’re a beautiful woman, and they’re violent outlaws. Would you be safe with them until you escaped or I returned?”

  When she hesitated, he said, “I can see from your reaction that you aren’t certain you can trust them.”

  Carrie Sue was thinking more of his words “violent” and “escape” than she was about his disturbing questions. She hated to spoil their lovely day with such dismaying conversation. She told him, “They’ve been with Darby since the beginning and are friends of his.”

  He pressed, “But that doesn’t mean they’re friends of yours, right?”

  She frowned and answered, “I’ve been around them off and on for seven years, but they’re not family to me. What’s your point?”

  T.J. was relieved to learn her only affection and loyalty lay with her brother, but he replied, “That worries me, woman.”

  Carrie Sue had never thought of being alone with the gang. Frankly, she didn’t know how the outlaws would behave without her brother’s guidance and influence, especially Kadry and Dillon. As for Kale, she would be safe with him. Yet, T.J. seemed to be probing her loyalties and affections for the men. Surely he didn’t think she’d change her mind after seeing them again. Maybe he was only worried about one of them being too special to her, or worried that she would take their side if trouble struck. The gang members were all right, but she had avoided getting close to men who could die at any moment, except for Kale. She thought it best not to go into detail with her lover over that amiable relationship. She stated confidently, “Don’t let it. If there’s a problem, I can take care of myself.”

  “Against how many men, Carrie Sue?” he asked skeptically, slyly.

  “The last time I was with Darby, he had six men, seven including himself. Sometimes for bigger jobs like robbing trains or rustling cattle or holding up a well-guarded Wells Fargo freight, he hires additional men for a week or two. I can trust Darby’s friends, but I don’t know about any others who might be in camp. Rest easy, love; the boys wouldn’t harm me or allow anyone else to do so.” Carrie Sue knew there were posters out on the Stover Gang, so she wouldn’t be giving away any secrets by speaking the men’s names. To let him believe she trusted him fully, she listed the gang members, “He normally rides with Kadry Sams, Walt Vinson, Tyler Parnell, John Griffin, Dillon Holmes, and Kale Rushton.”

  “A man would have to be deaf and blind not to have heard and read about them. Six expert gunmen are a lot for one woman to handle, especially one as desirable as you are, Carrie Sue. Any of them ever try anything with you in the past? You know what I mean.”

  “Why? You planning to challenge them to a showdown for my honor?”

  “Nope, for your protection, if necessary.”

  “It won’t be, partner. My brother takes care of me in camp.”

  “What if he isn’t around or gets wounded or killed? Who would give you trouble? I’d like to look ‘em over before I leave you there.”

  She wanted to drop the subject, but knew her lover wouldn’t let her until he had the answers he was seeking. To appease him—but to lighten his grave mood—she continued in a playfully mischievous vein. “You promise no trouble you possessive male?”

  “Not if they leave you alone and give you time to leave safely.”

  “The worst is Kadry Sams. He’s Darby’s best friend, so don’t start anything with him or Darby won’t take kindly to my bringing you along. Kadry never harmed me, but he was always after me in public and in private. His chase was worse when Darby wasn’t looking or nearby, but he never succeeded. The other one is Dillon Holmes. He’s the one I’ll have to watch the most. He’s sneaky around the others and bold around me, if I got alone with him, which I avoided like a chigger patch. Kadry is part of the reason I left so many times. He wanted to marry me and didn’t want to be put off much longer. If I hadn’t left near Sherman, it would have come to trouble between us.”

  “I’m surprised he let you go without a fuss. Why did he?”

  She laughed. “He had no choice; Darby agreed with my decision. Kadry said he knew I’d be back soon, and it appears he was right.”

  T.J. cleverly hinted, “What if Kadry is the one who released your description to force you back into the gang, not the Hardings?”

  “Friend or not, Darby would kill him,” she vowed.

  “If his deed ever came to light,” her lover added. “I’m serious.”

  Carrie Sue contemplated his words, then shook her head. “No, Kadry would never endanger me; he wants me too badly. I co
uld get killed and he’d never get his hands on me again. Too big of a risk.”

  “Isn’t that also true of Quade Harding? Somebody betrayed you to the law, and it surely wasn’t me. I didn’t even guess your secret. If that poster hadn’t come out, I doubt anyone else would have either.”

  “You worry too much,” she teased, and he frowned. “I tell you what, partner; when we reach Darby’s camp, you study Kadry and Dillon before you leave and tell me your opinion of them. If you’re still available after handling Quade, you can take me far away.”

  “You have another bargain, woman. But what do you mean by if I’m still available?” he queried with intrigue.

  “You said Darby could get killed at any time. The same is true of you, T.J. Rogue, my famous gunslinger with a highly coveted reputation. Even if you defeat Quade, he’s not the only man after your handsome hide. You’re more enticing to other gunslingers than nearly naked women hanging over saloon bannisters are to sex-starved cowpokes when they ride into town. Who’ll be my escort then?”

  “Don’t worry about me or your escape, Red. I won’t die before getting you far away from your threat. If Darby is near Brownwood, after I leave you in his camp, you’ll have. one week to say good-bye while I finish off Harding. Then, I’ll drag you away even if I have to face down Kadry, Dillon, your brother, and the entire gang.” T.J. knew where he would go after dropping her off, to alert the Rangers and plan their captures, not to Brownwood after Harding.

  “I guess that means you aren’t planning to join the gang?”

  “I doubt it. If I do, it won’t be for long. ‘Course, that all depends on if I’m a wanted man now. We’ll decide later. It’s time to eat supper. Coffee or whiskey? What do you want tonight?”

  She was glad the subject was back to pleasant ones, and she intended to keep it that way for the rest of the evening! “Coffee with supper, and you later, if you don’t mind my working you so hard. You’re like water in this desert area, my handsome and creative teacher; I have to take every advantage of it when it’s available, ‘cause you can’t ever tell when it won’t be.”