Silken Thunder

by Fayrene Preston

  “You didn’t do your job.”

  “I’ll get your damned ledger for you, McCord. Just get me the hell out of here.”

  Wes regarded the tip of his boot. “I notice you don’t mention your two men.”

  “Them too.” The way things were going, he had a feeling he was going to need them.

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of here. There’s your gun belt.” He waved his hand toward the desk. “But you’ve got to do something for me.”

  Dan grinned cockily. “The ledger, sure, I — ”

  “I have the ledger.”

  “Then what?”

  “Leave town. As of now, you're off my payroll. And I don’t want to ever see you around these parts again.”

  Stunned, Dan tried to think. “I know too much, is that it? Is that why you want me out of town?”

  “I want you out of town because I don’t like you.” Wes’s lips twisted. “And because you're a fool. I have no use for fools.”

  “Listen to me. With me helping you, there’ll be no stopping you. I’ve got plans.”

  Wes gave the man a hard smile. “It’s damned difficult to have any plans when you're rotting in jail, Cummings. And that’s what will happen to you if you don’t agree to leave town today.”

  Hell. Things were falling apart fast, and there wasn’t much he could do about it with his hands tied like this. “I'll go for a price. Say, twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “You’ll get what I owe you in salary up to today and not a penny more.”

  Cummings's hold on his temper was slipping fast. “Come on, McCord. What I’m asking is a drop in the bucket compared to what your profits are gonna be once the railroad comes through here. And I’ve been a part of making it all happen.”

  “A very small, insignificant part.”

  Cummings drew in a deep breath. “Okay, McCord, I was hopin’ I wouldn’t have to use this, but you should know, I know something that could ruin you and … someone very close to you.”

  Wes tensed. “What’s that?”

  “I know that you and the shopkeeper’s pretty daughter are real close, if you catch my drift.” He saw McCord tense and smiled with satisfaction. “I came over to your house late one night to deliver some papers and looked through the window. Guess what I saw?”

  Wes leveled gray eyes like cold stone on him and spoke very quietly. “I'm married to the woman in question, and I have the certificate of marriage to prove it. If I hear so much as a hint of a rumor that casts aspersions on her good name, I'll come after you and kill you.”

  Shock widened Dan's eyes. Then, immediately, he was furious. The son of a bitch had stolen his weapon from his hands. For a moment the red veil of his rage made him unable to speak. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to appear calm. McCord thought he was so high and mighty, but if he thought everything was going to go his way, he was wrong. Dead wrong.

  Dan leaned back in his chair and looked up at Wes.

  “Okay, I’ll leave town, just like you say.” He lifted his bound wrists. “Only cut me loose, will ya?”

  Cummings tied on his gun belt and started out the door after McCord. He’d done everything McCord had ever told him to do. He’d ramrodded the tent city. He’d lit out on the trail after Lassiter and that girl. And it hadn’t been a picnic in that canyon.

  After all he’d done he sure as hell deserved better treatment. He’d be damned if he was just going to ride out of town and let McCord stay on as king of Chango. McCord would be sorry he ever tried to get rid of him.

  He stared straight ahead at McCord’s broad back. Savage joy jolted through him. He had a clear, close, absolutely deadly shot. His hand grasped the handle of his gun, drew it out of his holster, and he carefully took aim.

  Pain!

  Cummings was spun around by the impact of the hot burning pain that seared through his chest. What was happening? He gazed around wildly only dimly aware he had heard an explosion. Sloan Lassiter stood across the street, his gun drawn, smoke curling out of its barrel.

  The gun in Cummings’s hand was now too heavy to lift, and slipped from his hand. The pain was no longer burning, but cold. Very cold.

  He crumpled to the boardwalk.

  At the sound of the shot Wes had whirled around with his gun drawn. He saw Cummings, lying lifeless on the ground, and his gaze tracked to the source of the shot. Sloan was holstering his gun.

  Sloan slowly crossed the street and stepped up on the boardwalk, coolly meeting his enemy’s gaze. “I wouldn’t even let a murderer be shot in the back.”

  Wes raised his eyebrows. “I wasn’t going to thank you.”

  “I don’t want your thanks.” Sloan glanced away for a moment, then brought his gaze back to Wes. “I just saved your life. That means you owe me one truthful answer.”

  Wes’s hard face showed no emotion. The silence between the two men was thick and tense. It was a strong and tall wall that had taken fifteen years to build.

  Suddenly Wes shrugged, and a faint smile touched his lips. “What do you want to know?”

  Sloan had memories of Wes’s smile. Wes had smiled as he’d said, Turtle Rock Water Hole is two days walk, due east. Use the sun for direction and you’ll make it. Stay there. Sooner or later someone will be by. Then with a jaunty salute he’d ridden off with their hard-earned money and left Sloan and his brother without food, water, horses, or weapons.

  Sloan swallowed to ease the painful tightness of his throat. “I have to have one question answered. Did you know that water hole was dry?”

  Long moments passed and Sloan wondered if Wes was going to answer. Then Wes looked him squarely in the eyes. “No.” He turned and walked away.

  Sloan watched intently as Wes walked down the broadwalk and entered his office. The short exchange with Wes had left him shaken. There was a fight going on inside him, one that dealt with fifteen years of his life. Dark terrors and violent torments were colliding in his brain, creating a tremendous tumult. Could it be that after all this time, that was it? Just a simple one-word answer.

  Brianne rushed up to him, her green eyes wide with worry. “Sloan? I was in the lobby of the hotel when I heard the shot. What happened?”

  “Let’s go back to your room.”

  “Sloan, you’re frightening me.”

  He took her arm. “Come on, I’ll tell you everything.”

  The afternoon sunlight filled the bedroom with warm light and illuminated the tiny dust particles that had settled onto the polished rosewood surfaces of the dressing bureau and armoire.

  “I don’t know why I saved his life,” Sloan said. “I sure as hell didn’t plan to.”

  “Maybe at last you’ve learned that life is a blessing.”

  “I came here to kill him. And then I turned right around and saved his life.” He shook his head, bewildered. “He said he didn’t know that water hole was dry.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  Sloan hesitated, then grimaced. “I don’t want to, but … well, the hell of it is, I do. Deep down, dammit, I do.” He rose and walked to the window to stare broodingly at the corral below. “He had no reason to lie to me. Not now.”

  “Sloan, what’s wrong? This ought to be a time of great relief for you. Finally after all these years you can put the past behind you and get on with your life … our life.”

  “I wish it were that easy.” Sloan's gaze took on a distant look. “When Wes came into my life, I was as green a kid as you can imagine. All I’d ever known was farm life. Wes spun yarns about a great big beautiful country to the west that I hadn’t even known existed. He fired my imagination. He talked about horses that ran free and wild over the frontier and how it would be relatively simple to round up a herd, head into the New Mexico Territory, and sell them. The profits were bound to be enormous, he had said.”

  “To me it all sounded like a great adventure, and I … I talked David into coming along. For God’s sake, he was only fourteen years old!”

  The disg
ust and pain in his voice made Brianne jump up and go to him. “Sloan, you can’t possibly be blaming yourself for David’s death?”

  “That is what I'm doing, have been doing ever since he died. But I was able to bury my own guilt beneath my hatred of Wes. Now I don’t have that anymore. Now I have to face what I did.”

  She put her arms protectively around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. “I won't let you do this to yourself. You were no more to blame for David's death than Wes was. Things just happened. The water hole happened to be dry. There happened to be a snake there. Things could just as easily have gone the other way.”

  He looked down at the top of her head and smiled tenderly. “One of the first things I came to admire about you was your loyalty to those you love. I think I’m very lucky to be one of those people.”

  She pulled away and gazed up at him. “You’re not alone anymore, Sloan. Your pain is my pain. From now on we’ll face everything together.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Hasn’t exposing this guilt that you’ve hidden so long made you feel better?”

  “No. I’m afraid it’s something I’m going to have to live with for a long, long time.”

  “Then we’ll live with it together. Any burden that’s shared is lessened.”

  He stared at her, his expression grave. “I think I have a lot to learn from you, Brianne.”

  “And I have a lot to learn from you.” She pressed her lips to his. “But now we have a lot of time for lessons.”

  Chapter 10

  Wesley had almost died!

  Anna had no idea how long she had stood at the upstairs window of the emporium, staring down in horror at the street. Cummings’s body had been dragged away. Even the shocked, curious townspeople had dispersed. Yet still her heart was slamming against her ribs, her stomach twisting with the terror she had felt when she had seen Cummings pointing the gun at Wesley’s back.

  She had tried to scream, but no sound had come. She had tried to run down to him, to warn him, but her limbs had been frozen.

  It had all happened so fast. Mere seconds. And Wesley could have been the one lying on the street instead of Cummings.

  The knowledge released her from the vise of horror that had held her immobile, and she whirled and ran downstairs and out the door. Her trips to Wesley had always been in the secret of darkness, down the path at the back of town. Now, for the first time, she went to him in daylight, crossing Main Street to his office without caring who saw her.

  She walked into his office and found him at his desk, pen in hand, his brow furrowed with concentration as he studied several documents in front of him. She closed the door behind her, then leaned back against it.

  Wesley was alive. Her relief almost overpowered her.

  But she was also very determined.

  His head came up and his expression changed to puzzlement. “Anna?”

  “Make love to me.”

  The pen slipped nervelessly from his hand. “What’s wrong?” He saw her smile uncertainly. She had rarely smiled at him.

  “I want you to make love with me.”

  Thoroughly baffled, he pushed away from his desk and came to his feet. “Anna, I don’t understand.”

  “Is it so difficult?” she asked, then repeated, “I want you to make love to me.”

  He studied her for a moment, trying to fathom what was going on. This had to be a dream, yet she looked very real, and he certainly was reacting as if this were really happening. His heart was pumping like a locomotive and he could feel himself readying. God knew he wanted her, wanted her so much it frightened him. He hesitated, then, caught up in the urgency he could sense in her, he started toward her. “We’ll leave separately and — ”

  “No. We’ll leave together.”

  His eyes darkened, but somehow he managed to keep himself in check. “Anna? What is it?”

  She held out her hand to him. “What I’m asking is such a simple thing, Wesley. Are you going to come with me or not?”

  Without another word he took her hand and walked out the door. But when he turned in the direction of his house, she shook her head and stopped him. “The meadow.”

  Wes asked no more questions. Curious glances followed them, and his hand instinctively tightened on hers. He was worried about her reputation, not his. But the speculation didn't seem to be bothering her. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her. She remained silent, serene, giving no indication of what she was thinking. He didn’t know why she had come to his office and asked him to make love to her. He knew only that he didn't have the strength or the desire to refuse her. Once they left the town behind them, they made their way to the middle of the meadow.

  Together they sank to the ground. The meadow was awash with sunlight, and the air was saturated with the heady scent of the perfume of flowers.

  “Undress me,” she said.

  “Anna — ”

  “Please.”

  He wished he could interpret the mysterious new glints that he saw in the depths of her eyes. He wished his body weren’t already hardening with need for her. And most of all he wished the heat that was taking over his body weren’t making thought impossible. But she had taken things beyond his control with just the simple words make love to me.

  He lifted his hand to the front of her dress. One by one he freed the buttons. Slowly her dress fell away until it was around her waist. Uncharacteristically Wes stopped, uncertain of what to do next.

  With languid movements Anna lifted the chemise over her head.

  Wes sat back and stared at her, his breath caught in his throat. How could any woman be that beautiful, he thought. Her ivory breasts were high and round and tipped by tight pink buds. Between them lay his ring.

  She lifted her arms to her hair and began pulling out pins. She dropped them heedlessly among the flowers, then shook her head, and her golden hair spilled down past her waist to around her hips.

  She lay back amid the yellow buttercups and held out her arms. He drew a ragged, painful breath and went down to her.

  His kiss was filled with a need he had never known before. Vibrant and hot, Anna responded to him. It was she who unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. It was she who smoothed her hands over his chest and back as if the feel of his skin were a necessity for her next breath.

  The sun warmed his back. Drawing a deep breath, he pulled in perfumed air and the feminine, lilac scent of her. Her breast in his hand felt like bliss. He fastened his mouth to the pink tip, sucked, and tasted ambrosia.

  Together they finished undressing each other.

  Against the lush green grass, Anna’s body appeared like lustrous ivory. Her hair spread around her head, its golden strands weaving among the yellow flowers. Lying beside her, Wes picked more flowers and sprinkled them around her breasts, down her stomach and the length of her legs. Then he rubbed the flowers over her, burnishing her with the scent of the flowers and the golden pollen.

  “Ah, Wesley … ” The feelings he was creating were almost too intensely erotic for Anna to bear. She arched her back off the ground, and he saw the sun catch the shimmering glow of her skin.

  Unaware of what she was doing, she reached out and her hand closed around a cluster of the flowers, crushing them. Then, still holding the flowers, she brought her hand to his chest, then went lower, through the coarse hair to close around the rigid, pulsing length of him.

  As she smoothed her hand up and down him, the petals created an exotic friction, bringing to life nerves he hadn't known he possessed and setting them on fire.

  “Would you taste like flowers?” she whispered.

  He made a sound like something had torn apart in his chest. He pulled her into his arms and rolled with her through the grass and the blossoms. Her hair flowed around them, and long, gleaming strands of it stuck to her hot, damp flesh and entrapped yellow and gold flowers within its mass.

  When he stopped, he was on top of her and her legs were par
ted, but he couldn’t bring an end to their golden ecstasy. Not yet.

  “Will you taste like flowers?” he whispered, and lowered his mouth to her skin. Her fragrance dizzied him. Her sweetness intoxicated him. And when he reached the soft, intimate core of her, he thought he might lose his mind. He kissed and licked and sucked, ravenous for her.

  Inflamed, Anna bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying out, then she forgot her resolve and screamed. Her need for him was no longer gentle. A heavy pressure was building within her, yet she felt weightless, like a flower petal on the wind. If he didn’t take her soon … “Wesley … ” She gasped, then shuddered as he entered her.

  Gripping her hips tightly, he began guiding and controlling the rhythm and movement of their bodies. Sweet golden pleasure shuddered through her. She felt him, hard, deep, perfect inside her, almost as if he were a natural part of her. She resented even his partial withdrawals. When he thrust into her again, she wrapped her legs around his back and surged up to him.

  They were one. They were golden. They were their own source of light.

  * * *

  They lay on their sides, facing each other, Anna’s flower-textured hair spreading over their cooling bodies like a gold silk coverlet.

  He hadn’t been able to bring himself to pull away from her, and he was still inside her. Her eyes were closed, her dark lashes lying over her cheekbones in thick, fringed half circles. Her skin had lost its flush and had returned to its ivory perfection. Her leg was thrown over his thigh, and while he studied her, she unconsciously nestled closer to him.

  Deep within her he felt the movement as a caress.

  “Anna?”

  She opened her eyes, and her eyes were so clear, it seemed he should be able to see all the way to her soul. But he couldn’t. In truth he had no idea what she was thinking or feeling.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered. “Be my wife.”

  Slowly she smiled. “Yes.”