by Jill Gregory
Cade kissed her mouth and swung a leg possessively over hers. “Morning yourself.”
“How much time do you think we have?”
“Before what, sweetheart?”
“Before Cobb comes searching for me.”
She could feel the tension arc through him. “Not much. Unless he’s sleeping it off—you did say he was going at the whiskey pretty good, right?”
“Right.” She leaned across him and began to nibble at his shoulder, then slid her lips and tongue across his chest.
“And then there’s Brett,” he sighed, drawing a hand gently through the wild bright mane of her hair. “He was searching through the other canyon for you last night. He’ll turn up pretty soon to see if I found you.”
“Which you very cleverly did.”
He was silent a moment. “Not without some help,” he said quietly after a moment.
Annabel sat up at his tone, shoving the cloud of her hair behind her, feeling perfectly natural and somehow beautiful with her naked shoulders and breasts exposed to his view.
“What do you mean?”
“It was strange, but last night when I was searching for you and going loco because I didn’t know which way to turn, I saw something. Something—or someone—showed me the way. A woman—at least I thought it was a woman, who beckoned to me and then ... disappeared. Like a ...” He hesitated, then added with a curt laugh, “... like a ghost.”
Annabel’s hands flew to her throat. “Mama,” she whispered. “I saw Mama last night out in the storm—she showed me the way to this cave. She was just a light, I can’t explain it, sort of a ... a glowing figure, but I knew it was she. Cade, she saved me ... and she showed you how to find me.”
His gaze locked with hers. “I’ve heard too much Indian lore and too many strange tales in these mountains over the years to doubt it. Besides,” he added with a shake of his dark head, “I know what I saw, and it sure wasn’t my imagination.”
Annabel sank down again and rested her head against his chest, nestling close as she pondered this turn of events in amazement. A surging, comforting warmth washed over her. Mama was out there, watching over her. Mama had sent Cade to find her, help her, love her....
“All these years,” Annabel mused at last, as beside her Cade stroked his hand up and down her arm, “I thought I was in love with Brett. I truly believed it, you know. But I think I wanted to love him, because he was so good and so kind and so dear to me. I had just made up my mind, without ever really consulting my heart. I only thought I had,” she added with a laugh. “But then, when I met you, I was so pigheaded I tried to ignore what I felt, what my heart was telling me ...”
“Maybe you were right to ignore it. Maybe this is the biggest mistake you’ll ever make.”
“Cade—how can you say that?”
He had just been about to touch her breast, but he knew in that moment it was wrong, this whole damn thing was wrong. He released her and sat up abruptly, lurching to his feet and reaching for his trousers.
“Annabel, it’s time to face facts.”
“What facts?” she asked in bewilderment as she watched him tug his trousers over his lean hips and fasten them, then turn back toward her, bare chested, his hair tousled, a day’s growth of beard stubbling his chin, making him look even sexier and more dangerous and more irresistible than ever. Oh, God, how she loved him. She ached and longed for him just looking at him and he was telling her ... never mind?
“What facts, Cade?” she repeated softly, when he just stared at her with his hard unfathomable eyes. He was pulling away, at least, trying to—emotionally as well as physically—and Annabel decided suddenly that she’d be damned if she’d let him.
“I’m a McCallum.”
“I know.”
“We’re a ruthless breed. You know Ross, you’ve seen for yourself. And you know the history, you know what he did to my mother. He destroyed her.”
“We don’t know that for certain. And besides,” Annabel said evenly, gazing back at him with calm, loving eyes, “what has that to do with you and me?”
You and me. His heart contracted at the words. He’d give a lot if only there could be a you and me.
“I’m just like him. Too damned much like him. When I still lived at home, in the years before I ran away, we butted heads every single day. Both of us ornery and stubborn as hell, determined to do things our way and no one else’s, ready to push aside anything that got in our way. Do you understand? We fought, because we were exactly alike. Maybe you don’t know me well enough to see it, but it’s true, you’ll have to trust me on this.”
“I trust you on everything.”
He scowled at her in exasperation. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected. Instead of looking concerned and arguing with him, she was just sitting there, so calm, so steady and strong and beautiful, like some kind of fire goddess with that hair of hers shimmering down around a face that was damn near bringing him to his knees.
“Annabel,” he began again desperately, “listen. I made up my mind a long time ago when I first heard that my mother took her own life that I would never inflict my damned domineering McCallum ways on any woman. I wouldn’t want to cause any woman the kind of pain my mother must have gone through at my father’s hands. I vowed to myself I wouldn’t ever marry, or let myself ... get close to anyone ... that I’d never have more than the simplest of physical relationships with any woman, no ties, no feelings between us ... nothing....” His voice trailed off. “What are you doing?”
It was obvious what she was doing, she was coming toward him. Her body naked and exquisite, gleaming golden in the soft dying embers of firelight, her hair cascading around her shoulders and breasts, she was coming toward him deliberately and sexily, with love and acceptance in her eyes.
“Stop being so damned silly,” she told him gently, and thrust herself up against him, her arms snaking like silk around his neck. “You’re a good man, Cade McCallum. No, you’re a wonderful man. And I’m not the least little bit afraid of you. I’ve never been afraid of your father either—I happen to think he’s a lovable old coot, even if he is somewhat garrulous—oh, Cade, haven’t you seen by now that I adore the McCallum men? Every single one of them—especially ...” Her tone grew huskier, filled with musk and promise, as she touched her mouth to his.
“Especially you.”
“But ...”
“No buts.” She was sliding her hands across his shoulders now and then his back, her fingers sculpting sensuously over the rock-hard muscles. She was intoxicating him with her charm, her open, giving smile, and the pure lushness of her body, doing wild things to his gut as well as other parts of him. “Whatever happened between Ross and Livinia, and we don’t know anything for sure, it has nothing to do with you and me.”
Those words again. Cade gritted his teeth as her nearness threatened to annihilate all his defenses in a shattering roar.
“And even if you are a trifle ... bullheaded—well, so am I. And I think you’ve seen that I don’t exactly wither under fire. In fact, I told you once that I come from equally tough stock—and I do. Nothing about you scares me. Except,” she said, and the truth shone plain in her eyes, stabbing straight into his heart, “except the possibility that you might turn me away.”
“I should,” he groaned, his muscles still clenched tightly as she drew his head down toward hers.
“No. You love me and I love you. For once in your life, Cade McCallum, just follow your heart.”
Follow your heart. It sounded so simple ... but ... if he ever hurt her ...
And then he saw the love blossoming in her eyes, a love that was strong and deep and filled with compassion, and she was in his arms, soft and sweet and trusting, and he suddenly knew that she was already in his heart, embedded there like emeralds in the dark soul of a mine, a part of it, now and forever, and somehow, that she belonged there.
“Annabel, this is loco ... I never thought ... oh, hell. What are you doing?”
&
nbsp; She was stroking him, teasing him, arousing him even more than he already was, if that was possible, and her gray-green glance sparkled up at him, with love and mischief and promise.
“Quickly, my love,” she urged, a smile dancing across her face as she began to kiss his mouth, his chin, his chest, his shoulder. “Red Cobb might well be here soon and ...”
“You’re the most loco woman I ever met. You love living dangerously, don’t you?”
“Just like you,” she gasped back as he picked her up and carried her back to the blankets, determination and anticipation stamped upon his lean face. He lowered her gently but hurriedly to the ground, and grinned as she reached for the trousers he’d donned only a short time ago.
“You’re the damndest woman I ever met,” he said tenderly, while at the same time pushing her down onto the blanket with ruthless haste.
“And you’re the most splendid man,” she breathed, her eyes widening as he moved atop her and spread her legs with his thighs. “Cade, we do have time for this, don’t you think? I mean if Cobb walked in here now ...”
“We’d both die happy.” His eyes gleamed into hers as he lowered his head to her breast and then neither of them thought about Red Cobb again.
Chapter 25
Puffy white clouds dotted the new-washed morning sky as Red Cobb spotted the plume of smoke curling up from the canyon gorge.
A campfire? Could she have somehow survived the storm, found shelter, and now started a campfire? No, it was probably someone else—maybe, he thought, his eyes glinting at the possibility, Brett McCallum, or even Steele. One or both of them might have come looking for her, and maybe they thought a campfire would draw her. Or him ...
It could be a trap, he thought, his nerves tightening.
Well, we’ll just see, he thought, heading his horse down a scrubby ravine that would lead him toward the curling wisp of smoke.
It was still early morning, and his head hurt from all the whiskey, but not much. He’d slept well, snug in that cave, wishing he could have had her already, but knowing it was only a matter of time.
He’d catch her today, and he’d teach her the cost of crossing Red Cobb.
He stopped well short of the campfire and left his horse among some cottonwoods, then crept closer on foot. A smile cracked across his face as he saw her, sitting there in that ragged green dress, looking not nearly so fine or uppity now. She was huddled on the cold ground, trying to warm herself against the morning chill by sitting close to the flames. She was eating some berries she must have found there in the canyon, and she looked hungry and lost and utterly vulnerable.
His pulse quickened with raw lust. This was going to be sweet, so sweet.
“Morning, bitch,” he greeted her, stepping out into the rocky clearing with a wide grin on his face. “Sleep well?”
She looked up and straight at him, appearing not the least bit startled. Or scared. She eyed him coolly. Why the hell wasn’t she screaming, or trying to run?
She did scramble to her feet as he approached, but she didn’t look scared, and she held her ground. She was calm as a Sunday school teacher, but her eyes held a burning anger that made him stop in his tracks for a moment, then he caught himself and came on.
“Did I sleep well?” she repeated in a tone that was almost amused. “Not as well as you’re going to.”
He halted again. An inkling came to him then, a cold nausea-inducing hunch which made him shift his gaze swiftly around the clearing, but he saw nothing, just trees and rocks and scrub.
“You’ve caused me a hell of a lot of trouble, you bitch,” he muttered, “but you’re going to pay for it now. Don’t even think about running because I’ll—”
“You’ll what?”
Brett McCallum stepped from behind a tree, his gun drawn and cocked and pointed at Cobb’s chest.
“No sudden moves,” Roy Steele said quietly, materializing from behind a rock just behind the woman, and Cobb stared at him in amazement and dismay.
“You.” His voice shook a little. He wasn’t apprehensive—no, he was furious, furious with them and with himself for falling for their trap. “I’m going to kill all three of you,” he announced, absolute certainty in his eyes.
“First you, Steele, and then McCallum. And then the woman. When we’ve finished some other things,” be added with a hoarse laugh. “She and I have some unfinished fun and games to attend to ...”
“Shut up, Cobb.” Steele moved three quick, easy strides toward him, his body superbly graceful beneath that shining sun.
“You’re not going to do anything to anybody. Your time is up.”
“You think so? Steele, I’ve been waiting for this day—itching for this day. I can’t wait to kill you. I’m sick to death of people wondering who’s faster, always mentioning your name when they mention mine. I’ve been meaning to settle the question once and for all ... but I had a job to finish first.”
“I know. Me.” Brett McCallum sounded every bit as cool as Steele did, Cobb thought in amazement. Somehow he had expected something different, a scared, green kid, a city greenhorn he’d have to taunt and force into a showdown. But this dark-haired young man with the blazing blue eyes and the gun held in a steady hand was no tenderfoot. Not that he’s a match for me, Cobb told himself quickly. But it’s strange, he’s not what I expected, not what I was led to expect ...
“If you’re smart, you’ll throw down your gun right now,” the woman said and she sounded so sure of herself that Cobb wanted to kill her right then. “At least then they’ll let you live. Not that I care,” she added with a shrug. “You’re a worthless piece of vermin if I ever saw one, but decency means we must take pity on you and at least give you a chance.”
“He doesn’t deserve a chance, Annabel, not after what he did to you.” Brett studied the red-haired gunslinger contemptuously. “You’ve been looking for me, Cobb. Well, I’m here.”
“Sorry, but you’ll have to wait in line.” Steele never glanced aside, but spoke with quiet firmness, his level gaze fixed intently on Cobb’s flushed, ever-darkening countenance. “And when I’m finished, Brett, I reckon there won’t be enough left of him for you to do anything but spit on.”
“You’re wrong, Steele,” Cobb rasped out, and for all the fact that he was angry, frustrated, and humiliated at having been taken by surprise, there was no fear, only supreme confidence in his words and tone. “You’re old, and you’ve lost your edge, if you ever even had one. I’m gonna send you straight to hell, and these others after you ... if you’ve got the guts to take me on one at a time.”
“Annabel, get out of the way,” Steele ordered, his eyes still riveted calmly on the other man. Obediently, she moved toward Brett, standing motionless at his side, giving the two gunfighters a wide berth.
“Anytime you say,” Steele drawled coldly.
Sweat poured down Cobb’s face. But it had nothing to do with fear—only excitement, anticipation, the chance to meet the ultimate challenge. Even if Steele did kill him, he was determined to bring his enemy to death with him. “One thing you should know first, Steele,” he barked. His lips twisted with the taunting words. “Your ladyfriend, Lily, back in Eagle Gulch—I killed her. She gave me some bad information and I had to come back and beat the truth out of her, and I reckon I got a little carried away. I told the doctor she hit her head when she tripped and fell, and he signed the death certificate as an accident.” Cobb guffawed. “No one in Eagle Gulch had the guts to call me a liar.”
Something lethal flickered then behind Cade’s steady gaze, and his body grew more tense, like the muscles of a wolf before it springs upon its prey. There was an intent in his eyes, the same perilous intent in Cobb’s as they stared at one another.
Before anyone had a chance to speak, the clearing exploded with movement. Cobb and Cade went for their guns, drawing in a lightning flash that dazzled the eye, and then gunshots exploded, ringing through the walls of the canyon. Annabel grabbed Brett’s arm and cried out as blood b
lossomed across Red Cobb’s shirtfront. He fell to his knees and tried desperately to lift his gun arm. Blood was pouring down his chest.
Cade shot him again.
This time Cobb hurtled face forward onto the rocky ground, and lay there twitching while a pair of eagles soared overhead and Cade watched with merciless eyes.
Annabel closed hers. When she opened them, Cobb’s body was still, and there was no sound or movement, only the blood and the acrid smell of gunsmoke, and the cry of the eagles high, high above.
* * *
Moonlight bathed the Rivers’ porch in a pearlescent glow as Annabel peered out the parlor window at Cade and Brett. They were lounging against the porch railing, talking quietly, and she studied them for a moment, reflecting on how alike they were, and how different.
Earlier she and Conchita had washed the supper dishes together and put them away, while Adelaide swept the floor and hummed under her breath. Dinner had been a feast of spicy beef and tortillas, fried chicken and refried beans. It had been a celebration, for now the Rivers family and the whole valley was free of the Lowry Cattle Company’s tyranny. But the adobe ranch house was quiet now, for Tomas and Adelaide had gone to bed, and only Conchita sat with some mending on the sofa in the parlor.
“It is a lovely night—why don’t you go outside and sit with them,” Conchita suggested as Annabel hesitated by the window.
“I think I will.”
The older woman rose with slow dignity and smiled at her guest as she gathered her mending into a woven basket. “I am going to bed. For the first time in a long time I believe I will sleep well. With Lowry dead, his men will scatter and we will be left alone. At least for a while.” She paused as she saw the book in Annabel’s hand, and noticed the odd, excited expression on her face.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I think I know how to make things right. At least, I’m going to try.”
“Go then,” Conchita touched her shoulder. “Our problems might be solved, but I think that you and the Señor McCallums will not sleep well until something else is settled.”