Passions Wild And Free

by Janelle Taylor

To the north of them, shortly after Marsh picked up Randee, trouble had struck. A band of renegade Indians, led by the Kiowa Chief Satanta, had attacked the stagecoach which had transported the blonde from Wadesville to the Red River border of Texas. Boldly they had crossed the river and raided the home station where Randee had slept Saturday night. They took horses, goods, and female prisoners; but the white men had been left behind, all dead.

  In 1867, the Kiowas and Comanches, fierce tribal enemies, had given up the Texas Panhandle and agreed to settle on reservations in Indian Territory. But the land was barren and promises were broken, so Chief Satanta had rebelled and returned to “the old way.”

  When the Army major’s wife and the stagecoach failed to arrive Sunday afternoon as scheduled, a search would begin immediately. The dreadful evidence would be found by dusk. By Monday morning, soldiers from Fort Sill would be on the march to recover the captives and to punish the renegade Indians. And, news of the lethal raids would be sent to the passengers’ and station workers’ next of kin in Fort Worth and Wadesville ….

  As the miles raced past, Randee studied the irresistible man who rode just ahead, of her. No matter how amiable and charming he was, she always sensed a protective reserve about him. Yes, she admitted, he talked to her when it suited him to do so, but he always revealed very little, especially about himself. One thing she did know, she was safe with him. If he had been after the expense money, he wouldn’t have joined her at Red River. If he had been after her for other wicked reasons, he would have halted and taken advantage of her by now. Somehow, she had sensed she could trust him in those areas, even if he kept things from her or lied to her about himself.

  Randee’s eyes roamed the sturdy physique on the saddle before her. Marsh possessed a combination of visible strengths: physical, mental, and emotional. At the hotel, he had given her a scant insight to an array of feelings, but by accident and without his awareness. It didn’t surprise her that he was a wary and private person, but she hoped he would relax and reveal more during their journey.

  She eyed the strong jawline which was .firmly set on that handsome face. She remembered how light his blue eyes appeared against a darkly tanned face surrounded by ebony hair and heavy stubble. When he smiled, it created such an arresting effect, and he seemed to do it easily and naturally for the “coldblooded” gunman Brody had called him. She liked his intelligence and concern, shown to her by the horse, saddle, hat, and weapons. This man was a rare combination of traits that potently drew her to him, a man not to be taken lightly or foolishly.

  They didn’t halt their tiring journey until dark, as Marsh said they needed to get at least halfway to Jacksboro. After tending their horses and setting up camp, they finished off the cold ham-and-biscuits with hot coffee made by Marsh. As both were weary and sleepy, they turned in immediately after eating, with only boots and hats removed. This wasn’t the time for conversing about anything, so they didn’t. Both were asleep quickly, Randee more deeply than Marsh.

  It was shortly after dawn when the gunman awakened Randee and told her it was time to eat and move on. He secretly eye’d her for signs of excessive fatigue and fragility, and decided she was doing more than fine on the arduous trail. In fact, she had done better yesterday than most men would have, and without a single complaint or problem or sluggishness. He was most impressed, and surprised, by this beautiful lady who matched his endurance and determination. To keep her from slacking off, or so he mistakenly thought, he did not compliment her on her favorable skills. They ate the beans and biscuits which Marsh had ready almost minutes after she was astir.

  Randee furtively observed the handsome man whose ebony hair fell appealingly over his forehead. Shadowy stubble darkened the strong jawline on his bronze face, and his eyes looked very blue and enticing this morning. He hadn’t buttoned or tucked in his shirt yet, and that golden chest was most tantalizing. Feeling warm and itchy all over, Randee knew she had to get her mind off the tempting sight of this man. The nineteenyear-old female smiled and stretched after finishing her breakfast. She told him, “You make wonderful coffee, Mr. Logan, and you’re an excellent cook.”

  Marsh realized she was slightly nervous this morning, and he hoped he had guessed the correct reason for her tension: him. As she straightened her garments and brushed her hair, he grinned and teased, “I reckon that means I’m not supposed to be good in those areas because I’m a man. Or because I’m a gunslinger. Fact is, Miss Hollis, I’m on the trail most of the time, so I have to know how to cook good to keep from starving or spending too much time in noisy towns. Let’s get packing, woman, or we won’t make Jacksboro by nightfall.”

  At dawn, while Randee and Marsh were beginning their day, the notorious Epson Gang made a bloody raid on a ranch near the Trinity River West Fork, a cattle spread northwest of Jacksboro ….

  Chapter Five

  The pace of their journey was different this morning. Randee and Marsh did not ride as hard and fast as they had yesterday, but their progress was a steady one, and the miles lessened between them and their first destination. At each rest and water stop for the horses, Marsh again kept mostly to himself, and Randee followed suit. She realized that he would have to get accustomed to having another person around all the time. Until the Durango Kid adjusted to his loss of privacy, she concluded it was best to be as unnoticeable as possible.

  The blonde longed for a soothing bath and clean clothes, and a soft bed with lots of cuddly pillows. Visions of steaming cornbread, delicious vegetable-andbeef soup, fresh lemonade, and blackberry cobbler filled her mind. She thought of Brody Wade, who was probably yearning for her hasty return and her hand in marriage. Guilt washed over Randee as she gazed at Marsh Logan, and her body flamed instantly with a feverish passion, which Brody had never ignited.

  She wondered why this mysterious loner had such a powerful and crazy effect on her, while a dependable, respectable, kindhearted man like Brody felt more like an adopted brother. The two men were so different from each other, and both were so unlike that vile beast, Payton Slade. Randee angrily scolded herself for allowing her stepfather to plague her on this lovely afternoon in late May. She dismissed all three men from mind, and called forth the Epson Gang to study.

  When they halted for a longer stop that afternoon, Marsh was in a curious mood. “We’ll make camp tonight at a place I know near Jacksboro, the site of the gang’s first raid. We’ll make our plans and do our maps there.” Running his fingers through his black hair, he mussed the windblown locks more than he tamed them. He appeared edgy as he chatted. “During the next few days, I’ll teach you some tricks about stealthy tracking and fast movements. I want you as highly trained as possible before we confront those murdering bastards. While we’re camped near Jacksboro, you can practice with those new weapons and get that mare used to you” The alert Marsh had noticed her working frequently with the animal since that morning, and he didn’t know why he’d added that unnecessary suggestion. It was obvious she knew a lot about horses and earning their loyalty and assistance.

  Randee was aware of Marsh’s unusual talkativeness and slight tension. She presumed he had had trouble in this area in the past and was placing himself on extra guard, but was trying to conceal it. “Thanks, those are excellent ideas,” she remarked. She reasoned that asking him questions right now would only make him retreat further into silence, so she didn’t press. She had to be patient until he was ready to open up to her, which he might do after getting to know her better.

  “How did your little picnic with the sheriff go?” he inquired.

  Randee looked his way, but his gaze was in the other direction. She grinned and queried, “Fine, why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering if you kept your head and didn’t drop any clues about us,” he replied, then drank deeply from his canteen. “Did he act or talk strange? Did he mention me?”

  “Naturally he mentioned the notorious Durango Kid; I must say, most unfavorably. But he didn’t behave strangely or mistrustfully,
even when I made up kin in Ohio and told him all about them. You can relax, Mr. Logan; I remained tight-lipped, like someone else I know.”

  Marsh half turned and glanced at her. Yep, he concluded, she was smart and quick, and she was witty. He chuckled, causing his eyes to sparkle and a pleasant expression to slip over his face. “Wade told me to steer clear of you, that you belong to him. Is that true?”

  “My relationship with Brody doesn’t concern you,” she responded.

  “I suppose not, unless he hears of our little adventure and comes after me with a blood glint in his eye. I don’t like showdowns with the law. A furious sweetheart could tangle our plans something fierce. Haven’t you learned that jealous men do crazy things?”

  She quipped, “Then, make certain we’re careful on all accounts. Speaking of arousing suspicion, you were too nice in the bank.”

  This time, Marsh laughed heartily. “So were you,” he retorted playfully. “It sounded smart when I first gave you that order, but I decided it would look strange being hostile to a beautiful lady for no reason.”

  Randee let his compliment pass as if unnoticed. She watched Marsh stretch and flex his muscular body, and that warm tingle came over her again. Heavens, she fretted, he was such an overwhelming attraction! She focused her attention on Rojo, patting her nose, stroking her neck, feeding her bunches of grass, and speaking to her.

  “Another question, Randee,” Marsh began, his tone softened like a caress. “You said you left home in February and made it to Wadesville alone. Why did you leave Kansas and why are you afraid to return?”

  Before she could master her reflexes, Randee’s hand ceased its loving labor. She inhaled sharply and she stiffened. Hastily she commanded herself to relax and to come up with an acceptable answer. Her warring mind refused to aid her, so she snapped, “That’s my business! It’s none of your affair.”

  Marsh refuted, “It is my affair if you left trouble back there and it follows you here and involves me.”

  Randee turned slowly and met his probing gaze. She smiled provocatively and murmured, “Do I look like the kind of person who gets into trouble?”

  Marsh’s eyes leisurely traveled over her from head to foot. “Yep.”

  Randee laughed at his amused expression. “Even if I did leave a nasty situation behind, I’m certain my partner can handle any overflow of trouble if it comes our way. But don’t worry, nobody’s coming to Texas to look for me and to cause you problems. My father’s dead.”

  “Where’s your mother?” he asked instantly.

  Randee sent him a fake smile. “She’s happily married again, and newlyweds don’t need a grown woman around their house. Their efforts to gain privacy got to be annoying. Besides, I wanted to live with my kin and enjoy new surroundings, so I came to Texas.”

  Marsh knew she was lying, but he didn’t call her on it. There was no denying that something terrible had happened in Kansas to drive her away from home in the midst of winter. Otherwise, a female of her age would have been given an escort by her parents or kin, or she would have taken the stage. There was a reason why she left quickly and alone. What it was, or who it was, he needed to discover.

  Randee knew he hadn’t believed her, but she didn’t retract her lies or nervously add more to her tale. “What about you, Mr. Logan? Why did you leave home and become a famous gunslinger?”

  “For thrills and adventures, Miss Hollis, just like you.”

  “You men are lucky. You can seek adventure without problems, but females can’t. A woman on her own isn’t viewed in a good light, and people try to take advantage of her. Yet, you men can go anywhere and do anything you please, and everyone thinks it’s fine and even envies your freedom and excitement. When you defend yourself, it’s a glorious notch on your reputation. But if a woman shoots a man, it’s murder or big trouble. That’s stupid and unfair.”

  “You sorry you’re a woman? You trying to become a real man? Is that what this chase is all about?”

  “It isn’t a joke, Marsh. Try being a woman for a month and you’ll see what I mean! We work as hard, if not harder, than men. We labor side by side on farms and ranches, plus take care of homes and children during and after those chores, while the men rest. We doctor the sick, we teach the young, and we hold things together when men go off to war or get killed. But, no, I don’t wish I were a man. I just want to be treated fairly and equally when and where I deserve it.”

  “Is your father to blame for this bad opinion of men?”

  Randee’s face flushed with anger. “Don’t you dare insult my father! He was the best man to ever live. After chores, he always helped around the house because he knew Mother and I were just as tired as he was. He did lots of things men consider woman’s work, but he was a strong and brave man and people’s jokes didn’t bother him. I was referring to the way it is in most homes and situations, where men give themselves, or other men, all the credit for success, as if their wives had nothing to do with it. My father wasn’t like that. He did’special things to make us happy.”

  Randee looked out across the greening landscape and envisioned Randall Hollis working out there. “My father never treated me like a son, or wished I were one. He treated me as an equal with the other hands because I earned that right. Just like I’ll prove to you I can handle my share of everything that comes our way. I don’t care why you agreed to take this job, but my only reason for this mission is to see justice done. I want those bastards dead for what they did at the Carson Ranch. And if it costs me my life, so be it, because it’s the only thing in my life right now.. Let’s get riding, or we won’t make Jacksboro by dark.”

  As she wet her throat after her mild tirade, Randee chided herself for jabbering like a fool. She had to let this bitterness go, this destructive resentment over her father’s early death and her mother’s marriage to a beast like Payton Slade: one of those men she had been describing! Heavens, she loved her father and missed him terribly. How totally different Payton Slade was from Randall Hollis, and she could not understand what her mother saw in that wicked man. Between the war and her mother’s remarriage, Randee’s life had been ruined. Then, to come here and to find a new one, only to have it stolen from her …

  Marsh intruded on her tormenting thoughts, “How’s the arm?”

  “What?” she replied, unsettled and confused.

  Marsh gently grasped her arm and pushed the sleeve up to look at the purplish-yellow area. “Luther Crebbs got you good that day. Did you have it checked to make sure the bone isn’t cracked?”

  Randee glanced at the healing injury, then up at Marsh. His touch was as gentle as she had imagined it would be. Seemingly genuine concern showed in his eyes, and unnerved her further. “I’ve taken care of enough breaks to know it’s fine, just badly bruised muscle. My arm’s still a little sore, but it won’t get in the way of our work.”

  Marsh knew she was fatigued and probably aching from her rough journey, but not once had she slowed him down or asked for special treatment. He also knew that something awful was haunting her, and he understood that feeling only too well. A curious empathy came over him and he wanted to comfort her. “You don’t have to behave as strong as a man, Randee. When you need to stop, don’t be too proud or embarrassed to say so. I’m used to constant travel; you aren’t.”.

  Marsh was standing too close for comfort, and his touch was too disturbing to ignore. Her nose detected a mixture of ruggedly manly smells, which were stimulating. She felt the heat from his virile body, and the heat he was creating within hers. He exuded a tantalizing tenderness that flustered her. She had carried burdens for months and weeks, and she longed to throw herself into his arms to accept the solace he was mutely offering. She dared not behave so weakly and rashly. She had to remain strong and in control, or he would doubt her strength and capabilities. Moreover, his embrace was hazardous to her.

  Today he was wearing a tan shirt and snug jeans that vividly displayed his well-built frame. She felt her heart beating strangel
y, and she inhaled deeply to slow its crazy pace. “I’m doing fine, Marsh. I’m tired and sore, but not enough to make camp this early. I worked and rode every day at the ranch, so I’m in good condition. I’ll tell you if I need an extra break. But thanks for being so kind and understanding.”

  Nimbly mounting her horse, she announced, “I’m ready, partner.”

  Marsh took off his hat, wiped the sweat from his brow, and replaced it. He tossed two woven sacks of supplies across his saddle, which he had hidden at this rest stop before retrieving Randee. He mounted and said, “Come along, Miss Hollis. We have a ways to go before nightfall.”

  They traveled until dusk without another stop or word. As the sun was grazing the tree tops near a wide creek, Marsh revealed, “We’re almost there. We’ll be camping in ten minutes.”

  “Good. I’m starving and exhausted,” she freely admitted.

  In a strained voice, Marsh concurred, “Me too.”

  Randee wondered about his gradual change in tone and aura as they neared this lovely and peaceful spot. She moved her right leg over the horse and dismounted. Bending forward at the waist, she” bounced several times to loosen her taut back muscles. Afterwards, she twisted and flexed her limbs to complete unwinding. Her skin was damp and dusty, and her stomach was near to hunger pangs.

  As if reading her mind, Marsh informed her, “About a hundred yards downstream, there’s a nice water hole for bathing. You look like you need it badly.” He grinned and challenged, “That is, if you trust me enough to take advantage of a good thing. While you’re refreshing yourself, I’ll take cook duty tonight.”

  “Is this spot safe?” she asked as she fetched her leather pouches. “I mean, is it a secluded one? Any neighbors or squatters nearby?”

  “Nobody’s supposed to be around for miles, Randee, but I’ll keep an extra eye and ear open. I haven’t been here in a long time, but it still looked deserted as we rode in.” While unsaddling his stallion, Marsh disclosed, “This ranch belonged to people I knew, people killed in that first raid last April. The house and barns were over that way,” he told her, pointing to a shady grove not too far from the stream. “It was really something to see. Thirteen months ago, the Epson Gang killed everybody and burned everything to the ground.” “