Passions Wild And Free

by Janelle Taylor

  Randee caressed the sleek muscles of his shoulders and arms and back. Her fingers playfully traced the hard ridges of his spine, all the way to his firm buttocks, which she seductively massaged. It enlivened her to stimulate and pleasure him. Her hands quivered with delight. His body was beautiful, so firm and yet so smooth. She knew he enjoyed making love to her, thrilled to her uncontrollable responses.

  “I need you, Marsh, now,” she whispered hoarsely. She had made love enough times to assess her distance and pace. She could wait no longer to feel him within her, have him joined to her.

  Marsh’s throbbing manhood entered her, and she arched to meet his gentle probe. He felt it quiver and threaten to explode as powerfully as the dynamite in his saddlebags. She was so all-consuming that she was his only reality, his only mission tonight. It staggered his senses to taste and feel and hear her surrender.

  Locked together, they labored sensuously for the prize which awaited them at the end of this blissful race. They clung together, riding rapturously across love’s prairie, which was ablaze with a wildfire. They explored, searched, journeyed, and wandered until they located ecstasy, their destination, and raced into that wondrous paradise … .

  At last, they relaxed side by side upon the crushed grass. They remained silent, embracing and allowing the beauty of this episode to wash over them serenely. The air was cooler now, as were their bodies. The melodies of crickets, frogs, and night birds still filled their ears. The moon was overhead, giving them more light in their blissful enclosure. The sky was clear of clouds, but scattered with millions of blinking stars. Contentment encased them.

  “How did I ever get along before I met you, woman?” he asked tenderly. “You’ve softened a part of me that I thought was hard forever. It’s past time I explain a few things about me.”

  When Randee remained still and silent, Marsh glanced down at her. He smiled happily. She was cuddled against his side, sound asleep. He realized she must be exhausted after her long vigil over him and utterly relaxed after their passionate bout. He kissed her forehead and murmured, “I don’t know how it happened, Randee, but I love you.”

  Without arousing her, he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the cozy shack. He placed her on the bunk, and he took the sleeping roll on the floor. She curled onto her side, toward him, and sighed dreamily. Another smile curved Marsh’s healing mouth upwards. He felt wonderful tonight, strong, alive, invigorated, happy.

  The jet-haired man lay on his back, thinking. Tomorrow, he had to expose himself to the woman slumbering nearby. Not only did she deserve the truth, but he couldn’t conceal it any longer. In order to protect her from criminal charges and possible injury, he had to reveal his identity to the local authorities— naturally excluding Brody Wade and Marshal Foley Timms. He had to find a way to get her out of this mission so she would be safe until he could complete it quickly. If only he could find some hard evidence against that gang and their accomplices, he could settle the matter within a week or two.

  Marsh ran his fingers over his sore wounds and damned his attackers. He vowed that Foley Timms and his boys would pay for their assault and for forcing his love to imperil herself trying to help him. Recalling her actions, his heart seemed to burst with pride and love, and gratitude. He tried not to feel bitter over his recent weakness and defeat. It was hard, because he had allowed them to get captured; he had allowed himself to get beaten and humiliated. But he had weakened only enough to protect Randee. He hadn’t betrayed his job and identity: the reasons for the harsh beatings. He envisioned Timms’s fury at his silence and strength, but he hadn’t let the man break him. The only way Timms could have gotten the information he so desperately and savagely wanted was to have used, threatened, his love. Since the man had feared to do so, did that mean Brody Wade had more influence and authority with the gang than the guileful marshal did?

  Marsh glanced over at Randee, and felt his heart drum madly. Soon, she would be walking at his side daily and sleeping beside him every night, if she would marry him. And he would have to be a blind fool not to realize she was as much in love with him as he was with her. He looked around the cabin and reflected on their days here. Maybe this enforced solitude hadn’t been so demanding after all … .

  Thursday morning, Randee stretched and yawned contentedly as memories of the night before played joyfully through her steadily clearing mind. She felt wonderful: rested, enlivened, lighthearted. Abruptly she realized she was lying on the wooden cot. She sat up quickly and looked around, but Marsh wasn’t inside the cabin. The door was open, and she heard birds chirping gaily. Noticing the sleeping roll on the floor, she knew he had taken that position last night after giving her the only bed. She remembered falling asleep in his arms outside, which meant he had carried her here. She smiled and warmed.

  Tossing the light cover aside and rising, Randee saw that she was still naked. What she needed was a quick bath before dressing and beginning breakfast. Sighting Marsh’s shirt tossed over a rickety chair, she pulled it on and grabbed a blanket with which to dry herself. She headed to the stream, then halted and wondered if she should alert him to her approach. “Marsh? Where are you? Do I need to wait a while?”

  He did not respond, and she panicked. She feared he had overexerted himself last night and perhaps damaged his ribs again. She ran toward the stream. He was not there, nor was Midnight. She called his name several times. Nothing. She raced to the edge of the tree line and scanned the horizon for him. Nothing. Surely he wouldn’t leave her here while he went off to …

  Randee chided herself for her wild imagination. Of course he wouldn’t, she reasoned, because he did not know there were no charges against them. As far as he was concerned, they were fugitives. And he wouldn’t leave her here to face danger alone, not without telling her. Where had he gone? What was he doing?

  Hurriedly she bathed, returned to the cabin, and dressed. He was going to return; he had left his belongings here! To distract herself, she made a fire on the hearth and started their morning meal.

  Soon, Marsh entered the cabin and warned, “You have to put out that fire, woman. I saw a curl of smoke from a mile away.”

  Startled by his silent arrival, Randee squealed and whirled in alarm. “Don’t do that! You scared the wits out of me,” she scolded him. “Where have you been? I was worried about you. How’s your side? You shouldn’t have lifted me last night in your condition.”

  Marsh chuckled heartily. . “A real chatterbox this morning, are we?” he teased mirthfully. “One question at a time. Let’s see,” he murmured, trying to remember them. “I went riding to test my strength and to give Midnight some exercise. He’s been lazing around as long as I have. As to my health, Doc Hollis, I feel great today. How about you? Besides being annoyed with me for sneaking off and sneaking up.”

  Randee shook her head as she noticed the roguish sparkle in his eyes. “Marsh Logan, you’re a beast. Why didn’t you leave me a note?”

  Marsh’s smile faded and his blue eyes chilled. “I couldn’t, no supplies. That snake Timms stole half the stuff in my saddlebags. He took our notes and maps, and the dynamite.” Marsh was glad his Presidential papers and badge were sewn inside the area under his cantle, the raised section on the back of his saddle. When he needed them, all he had to do was slit the stitches and withdraw them.

  Randee was dismayed by that news. If she had known about the theft that night, she could have searched for their belongings. “I’m sorry about our evidence, Marsh. I didn’t even look inside your saddlebags when I retrieved the horses and saddles, and I haven’t thought about them since we’ve been here. By now, Timms has probably destroyed them. I did remember to take your guns from the sheriffs office,” she remarked, even though she noticed he was wearing them.

  “Thanks,” he remarked, his fingers grazing the gun butts absently.

  “What now?” she asked. “Do we start from scratch again?”

  “First, put out that fire, or we might attract company. Then-
”

  She injected, “It isn’t necessary. The law isn’t looking for us anymore.” Randee related what she had overheard at the ranch last Friday between Brody and Payton. As shè made her disclosures, she observed Marsh’s astonishment, and vexation. “Hopefully Payton Slade is dead by now, so my mother’s safe for a while. Willard’s alive, Marsh, and the ranch is really mine. We’re safe and free.”

  Marsh irrationally accused, “Why did you deceive me, Randee? I trusted you and depended on you. The only reason I’ve remained here so long was because I was so weak and I thought we were in peril. I’ve stayed here to get back my strength so I could go after them and prove our innocence. While you were drugging me and holding me captive here, those bastards have been hiding their trail better than before.”

  Stunned, Randee shouted at him, “That isn’t fair, Marsh Logan, and you know it! There was nothing you could do until you healed properly, even if we were free to leave at any time. If you had known, you would have taken off too soon and harmed yourself.”

  Without being aware of it, Marsh responded in the same tone which she had used, “You shouldn’t have kept this from me! This mission is vital; I have work to do. If I had known we weren’t in danger I would have been chasing their butts yesterday. You knew I was able to ride and work days ago, if not for that sneaky medicine. There’s no telling what Wade, Timms, and Light have been up to while I’ve been trapped here. Maybe I could have defeated them by now.”

  “Without proof? In your condition, they might have snared you again and killed you this time! Damn you, Marsh Logan. You—of all people—know how evil and cruel they are. Now they’re desperate. They know all about us and will be guarding their backs every day.”

  “That should have been my decision, woman; I’m in charge.”

  “You weren’t in any condition to be in charge, partner.”

  Marsh paced angrily, but the anger was at himself and those villains, not at Randee, whom he seemed to be taking it out on at this time. He was flustered by this new setback and wasn’t thinking clearly or calmly, which was unlike him. “Damnation,” he swore. “Now they know who and what I am. Getting them will be harder. Willard should have waited for permission to unmask me.”

  Randee’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “You mean it’s true about you being a secret agent for the governor? You’re a lawman?”

  Marsh turned and met her troubled gaze. This was not how he had meant to explain matters to her this morning. “Not for the governor, Randee, for the President. I’m a United States Special Agent, chosen and appointed and authorized by President Grant. I’m accountable only to him, and few people know what I am. Most of my missions are secrets, so I’ve used lots of covers, like Storm Hayden. The original posters were made up so I could earn my way into a gang of rustlers in Nebraska. I didn’t commit any crimes and I was never an outlaw. I handle cases other law enforcement agencies can’t or won’t touch. I work in any state, but mostly Texas and her surrounding neighbors. Since there was no real Storm Hayden, I wasn’t worried about that old identity causing us trouble, until new fake posters started showing up.”

  Randee felt weak and nauseous. She sat down at the small table. “What’s your real name?” she asked without looking at him.

  “Marshall Logan, Jr. That was my parents’ ranch we visited, and the Epson Gang did murder them. Until I capture or kill every one of those bastards, I’ve refused to take on any other assignment.”

  An old and distressing line of thought came to mind: How important was his victory? Would he use anyone, anything, to obtain it? How far would he go to complete his current “assignment”? Now she understood his references to their “mission”—no, to his mission. Randee informed him, “I knew about the poster and Storm Hayden before you lied to me about them. Flossie saw one in Pete’s desk and told me about it the night I slept with her in the saloon. She tried to convince me you were lying to me, but I figured you had a good reason. I didn’t confront you because I wanted you to trust me and … enough to confide in me. First, you’re the Durango Kid, then suddenly you aren’t; next, you’re Storm Hayden, then suddenly you’re not. I don’t know who or what you are anymore. Are you sure you’re really Marsh Logan?” she asked sarcastically.

  “I didn’t mean for you to learn the truth this way, Randee. I was going to tell you everything this morning. I had to keep silent; I was sworn to it by the President. I don’t even have permission to be revealing this stuff today, but it can’t be helped.”

  “You’re right, Mr. Special Agent, because Willard destroyed your cover in an effort to save our lives. Is he also a Special Agent?”

  “He works with me on most cases. He’s a good man. I want you to remain here while I finish this job, then— “

  “Because you no longer need a partner, even one who knows their faces! You were only using me for information. The only important thing to you is your job, and your damned revenge!”

  “That isn’t true, Randee. You’re very special to me.”

  “And you have the gall to accuse me of deceiving you! You’ve lied to me from the start. You’re only confessing now because the news is out about your secret identity. You’re a bastard, Marsh Logan.”

  “I know I am, woman, but it couldn’t be helped at the time. I’m heading for Fort Worth to speak with the law there. I have enough facts and suspicions to get some help with this matter. I’m going to find Foley Timms and force the truth out of him, then go after Brody Wade for the same reason. Once I have hard evidence, this case can be closed. Stay here where you’ll be safe. Please,” he urged.

  Randee looked at him, her gaze frosty. “No, I’m going to Wadesville and work on Brody myself. Payton is dead by now, the ranch is mine, we aren’t fugitives, and you’re not an outlaw— so I’m in no danger. Brody can’t blame me for working with a lawman, and he won’t suspect how involved we were because he believes I love him and want to marry him. I didn’t start this task to stop before it was finished. I’ve put almost as much into it as you have. I’ll watch him closely and get the evidence the law needs to punish my family’s killers.”

  Marsh was worried about her warring emotions. “The only way you can get close enough to spy on Brody Wade is to marry him.”

  Marsh did not realize that his statement sounded suggestively hopeful, not blatantly discouraging as he had meant it to be. Randee’s heart lurched painfully to think that her traitorous love would allow her to wed such a villain to defeat that vicious gang. “You can’t stop me.”

  “Listen to me, Randee,” he began, but she shook her head.

  “Never again, Mr. Logan. As soon as I have my coffee and biscuits, I’m leaving. And don’t you follow me or try to halt me.”

  Randee fetched a cup of coffee, added honey for nourishment and her impending ruse, and sipped it, even though the heat pained her lips. “Go ahead, do your job, Special Agent Marsh Logan.”

  Marsh decided aloud, “I’m going to saddle Midnight and load up while you settle down. Then I’m returning. We aren’t through discussing this matter, Miss Hollis.”

  Randee turned and glared at his retreating back. Oh, yes, we are, you treacherous snake! she mentally shouted at him. Randee poured another cup of coffee and generously laced it with laudanum. She added a little honey to conceal the taste of the drug. After dumping out the rest of the coffee so he couldn’t fetch himself a different cup, she began packing her possessions to be ready to leave quickly.

  Marsh came back as promised. When Randee placed her coffee cup on the table, Marsh lifted it and drank from it. Tasting the sweetness, he thought nothing of it, as he had seen her add honey earlier. He needed to settle himself down. He had to explain why she must remain here: He loved her and wanted her safe. He feared she might not believe his claim since he had deceived her so many times in the past. Would she doubt him? Think it was a sly, but cruel ruse?

  While Marsh was thinking, planning, fretting, the drug was working swiftly and potently. He was so distracte
d that it was too late by the time he realized what she had done. He stared at the blurring cup, then tried to turn and speak to her. His tongue wouldn’t work. His mind wouldn’t work. His body wouldn’t work. He passed out cold.

  Randee caught him before letting him crash to the hard floor. Tears ran down her cheeks as she gazed into his sleeping face. “Why, Marsh? I love you, and I thought you were beginning to …”

  She could not think about his deceit at this time. She had work to do. She had to get away from him. Even as she cursed him, she shoved him onto a bedroll and made him comfortable by removing his boots and guns. She read the paper and eyed the badge which he had brought inside to show her, his Presidential authority. There was no denying his real identity and status. She removed the silver necklace and placed it with his belongings. Taking one last look at him, she closed the door and headed for the stream. After kindly unburdening Midnight, she saddled Rojo, mounted, and rode away.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Randee reached town before three that afternoon. After leaving her horse at the livery stable, she registered at the hotel. Reclaiming her trunks from the storage room, she donned one of her prettiest dresses and bonnets for her impending visit with Brody.

  At his office, she was told by Deputy Matthew Johnson that Sheriff Wade was not in town and wouldn’t return until late tomorrow afternoon or Saturday morning. She asked Matthew to give Brody the message that she was back home and was staying at the hotel, adding that she wanted to see him the minute he arrived.