The Trail to Love (The Soul Mate Tree Book 4)

by Tina Susedik

Pleasure overrode the pain of her nails digging into his flesh. His balls tightened. His entire body shuddered, and with a shameless groan, he spilled inside her.

  For a few moments, nothing filled the air except their ragged breaths.

  “That was amazing,” Sarah finally murmured, her voice soft and sultry.

  Jack rolled from her and settled next to her, dropping his arm over his eyes. Amazing didn’t come close to what he’d just experienced. He couldn’t come up with any other words to describe the most intense orgasm of his life.

  “Jack?”

  “Hmmm?” His brain still wasn’t functioning properly.

  “The tree is gone.”

  Moving his arm from his eyes was near to impossible, yet he managed to drag it away. Sure enough, the tree was gone. How the hell could it appear and disappear? Were they crazy? And when had Sarah seen the tree before?

  Sarah leaned up on her elbows. “Do you smell that?”

  A warm breeze brought the scent of smoke to him. “Someone has a fire.”

  She glanced over him at the circle of wagons. “At this time of night?” Then she stilled. “Jack, did you see that?”

  Jack rolled over and looked into the distance, the night lit by a full moon. Someone skulked around Sarah’s wagon.

  “Yeah, I see him.” He recognized the man’s ragged hat. Horace. Shit, what was he doing? A reddish light flickered briefly. Flames?

  He was going to kill Manny if it was the last thing he did.

  Sarah jerked on her bloomers and searched for her blouse. “Oh, my God. Tommy.”

  Jack yanked up his pants, buttoning them as he charged toward her wagon. He couldn’t let another person he cared for die. Behind him Sarah screamed for her son.

  “Get Tommy,” he yelled, tearing around the side. The wagon dipped when Sarah climbed up the front. He ripped the cover from the water barrel, grabbed a pail, and filled it. It took only one bucket to put out the small fire on the ground at the rear of the wagon. He stomped on the wet embers to make sure no errant, hot ashes restarted.

  By the time Sarah came to him, holding Tommy to her chest, people were climbing from their beds to see what the ruckus was all about. Jack turned his back, buttoned his shirt, and jammed it into his pants.

  Sarah must have tidied up in the wagon, as her blouse was fastened properly and tucked into her skirt.

  “Is Tommy all right?” Greta rushed to Sarah, holding a shawl tightly at her neck.

  “Mommy, my eyes hurt.”

  Sarah rubbed Tommy’s back, much as she had done to him a bit ago. Her gentle touch was still etched in his skin.

  “Shhh, sweetie. You’ll be fine. They’ll stop hurting soon.”

  “What happened?” Greta asked.

  “Get out of my way. What’s going on here?” Horace shoved through the crowd and pushed Jack aside. “Sarah, honey. Are you all right? I came as soon as I heard about the fire.” He rounded on Jack. “What the hell did you do this time, Billabard?”

  Was Manny serious? Was he really going to put the blame for the fire on him? Jack folded his arms over his chest. Instead of answering, he’d wait him out to see what lies the jackass would come up with.

  “Sarah, honey,” Horace reached for Sarah’s son, “let me take Tommy from you. He must be getting heavy.”

  Jack bit back a laugh at Horace’s syrupy words. Sarah narrowed her eyes and held Tommy away from him.

  “I’ve told you before, Mister Manny, and I’ll tell you again in front of all these people. I never gave you permission to call me Sarah. I’m not your honey, sweetheart, little woman, or any other endearment you call me.”

  Horace slapped a hand to his chest as if Sarah had injured him. Jack coughed into his fist. Horace was quite the actor. And Sarah was gorgeous when angry. He’d let her have her say, then step in if Manny so much as looked at her wrong.

  “But, honey . . . I mean, Miz Nickelson,” he quickly added when Sarah tightened her lips. “This man started a fire by your wagon. Why, you and Tommy might have been killed. I would simply die if something happened to either of you.” Horace pointed a finger at Jack. “First he loosens your wheel, then tries to burn down your wagon. You can’t trust him. Come with me, and I’ll take care of you.”

  Someone’s choking sounded more like laughter. Jack searched the crowd and settled on Greta’s husband, who rolled his eyes at him.

  “Here.” Sarah passed Tommy to Greta and took a step toward Horace, who smiled as if he was going to get what he wanted. “Mister Billabard did not loosen my tire, nor did he set this fire.”

  Horace puffed out his chest and hitched up his pants. “Is that what he told you? Because I have evidence that he did. He’ll say anything to get you to spread your legs for him.”

  Gasps and mumbling came from several onlookers. Jack took a step forward, ready to grab the man by the collar. Sarah shook her head at him, and he stopped. Narrowing his eyes, he fought down his anger. He’d let her handle it . . . for now.

  Sarah advanced toward Horace, who backed up. Jack relaxed, and this time he bit back a chuckle. It must be finally sinking into Manny’s dull brain that Sarah was angry.

  “Let me ask you something, sir.” Sarah tapped a finger to her lips. “Were you on duty tonight?”

  “Well, yes, I was.”

  “And where were you stationed?”

  “West of here, about a quarter mile from the train.”

  Sarah paced before him. “Hmmm. My wagon is one of the furthest from there. Is that right?”

  Horace nodded then frowned as if he had no idea where this was going. Jack did, and he was enjoying every second of Sarah’s interrogation.

  “So can you tell me how you found out about the fire and got here so quickly?” Sarah looked around at the crowd. “I mean, some of these good people barely got out of their beds before you arrived. Were you really patrolling?”

  Jack took a step forward when, without answering her question, Horace pivoted to Jack and jerked his finger at him. “You. You’re the one who’s causing all the problems here, Billabard. If it weren’t for you, Sarah would be mine.”

  Jack didn’t have time to grab Sarah before she attacked Manny.

  “Why, you little jackass. I never was, nor will I ever be yours!” She shoved him against her wagon. “I’ve told you over and over to leave me alone. Mister Billabard has nothing to do with this. You’re the one who loosened my wheel and you’re the one who set the fire. You’re the one who wants my son out of the way so you can have me.” Sarah poked him hard in the chest. “You.” Poke. “Will.” Jab. “Never.” Poke. “Have.” Jab. “Me.”

  Jack smiled. At the rate she was going, Manny was going to have a mass of bruises on his chest. He didn’t care one way or the other about Manny. He did need to stop her before her finger fell off from touching the asshole.

  Jack tugged her away. “That’s enough, Sarah.”

  Horace held his clenched fists at his sides, then before anyone could react, grabbed Sarah’s hair. “You bitch!”

  Anger nearly blinded Jack. He grabbed the hand gripping Sarah and squeezed his wrist until Manny let go of her, then tossed the bastard to the ground. “Don’t you ever touch Miz Nickelson or anyone else on this train again.”

  Horace jumped to his feet, fists swinging.

  “What is going on here?” Sam yelled, rushing through the group. “Manny, why aren’t you patrolling?”

  “Because,” Horace pointed a finger at Jack, “he started a fire by Miz Nickelson’s wagon, and I’m making sure he pays for his crime. He also loosened her wheel a few weeks back.”

  Sam faced Jack. “Is this true?”

  “You know me better than that, Sam. I would never do anything to harm anyone, especially a widowed woman and her son.”


  “Horace?” Sam raised his eyebrows.

  “He’s lyin’.”

  Sarah stepped between the two men. “Jack didn’t do those things. I’m not positive who loosened the tire, but I know for a fact that Horace Manny set the fire.”

  Sam restrained Horace from going after Sarah. “I did not. Billabard did.”

  “Mister Hunt, I recognized Horace Manny moving around my wagon. Shortly after I smelled smoke.”

  “How could you tell it was me?” Horace said between tight lips. “You was in the wagon.”

  “No I wasn’t. I was over by the trees. I recognized your decrepit hat. No one here wears a hat as disgusting as yours.”

  Horace laughed. “It’s a widder woman’s word against mine, and you know how they are.”

  Jack crossed his arms over his chest, but stood ready to punch the idiot if he attacked Sarah again. “No we don’t, Manny. Why don’t you tell everyone here how widows are.”

  “Why, they ask for it.” Horace took in the people observing the interaction. He hitched up his pants. “If’n you know what I mean.”

  Jack shook his head. “I guess I don’t rightly know what you mean, Manny. Why don’t you explain for us.”

  “Well, see’n as how they don’t have a man to take care of their needs, they look for someone, anyone, to satisfy ‘em. The longer they go without a man, the more desperate they become. Miz Nickelson here has been beggin’ for it.” Horace thumbed his chest. “And I’m just the man to give her what she wants.”

  Sarah leapt at Horace and slapped him hard across the cheek. “Why, you vile snake. I wouldn’t go with you if you were the last man on earth. You’re dirty, stinky, and disgusting. I have never sought you out, and told you many times I’m not interested. Why can’t you understand that?”

  Horace rubbed his face. “You’ll be sorry you did that, missy. No woman slaps me and gets away with it.”

  Greta stepped forward. “What Sarah says is true. I’ve heard the comments he’s made to her. Comments that no gentleman would make to a lady, and Sarah is a lady, through and through. Many times, I’ve told him myself to leave her alone. He never listened and always came slinking back like the snake he is.”

  Jack had enough of Manny’s lies. “I also saw him at Sarah’s wagon tonight just before we noticed smoke coming from the back.”

  “See.” Horace jumped up and down, pointing between Jack and Sarah. “I told you she was a hussy. She was with Billabard.”

  A few murmurs rose from the crowd.

  While lying was not one of Jack’s best suits, now was the time to do the best he could to protect Sarah. Heat crept up his neck and face. Hopefully it wouldn’t be noticeable by the nosy onlookers in the full moon.

  “Yes, Sarah and I were together, talking. Since I’m leaving the train when we reach the fort, she wanted to know what to expect for the rest of the trip.”

  When no one said anything, he took that as a sign they believed him. He didn’t dare look at Sarah, but her quick breath said volumes. Would he see anger at his announcement of his leaving? Did she think their time together would change things? “Manny didn’t know we had a good view of the camp, or Tommy could have died from the smoke. I’m not sure what his purpose was, but he is the one who set the fire. I also know he loosened her wheel. I recognized his boots that night.”

  “Why would you have seen his boots?” Sam asked.

  Jack put his hands in his pockets and stared at Manny. “I knew what he was saying about her and worried what he might do, so I’d been bedding down outside her wagon to make sure he didn’t go after her in the dark.”

  Sarah gasped. “I didn’t know you did that.”

  “We’ve been keeping an eye on her, too,” Greta added.

  The edge of something pink and frilly, looking like the leg of a woman’s undergarment, draped from the corner of Horace’s pocket. What kind of man walked around with a woman’s garment in his pocket?

  “What’s that in your pocket, Manny?” Jack nodded at Horace’s pants.

  Horace put his hand over the object and sneered. “That’s none of your damn business.”

  Jack frowned. “Didn’t look like anything to me. Looked like something pink and frilly.”

  Sam scratched his chin and stepped in front of Horace. “Pull it out, Manny.” When Horace hesitated, Sam added, “Now.”

  The women gasped and the men laughed when Horace pulled out a pair of pink bloomers, hooking them over his forefinger.

  “Those are mine, you skunk.” Anger laced Sarah’s words. “How did you get them? From my wagon?”

  Horace turned to the crowd and snickered. “Maybe I took them off you, Sarah.”

  “Why you little . . . I would never let you . . .” Tears slid down her cheeks.

  Jack’s heart ached at her distress. Comforting her like he wanted would only make things worse for her.

  “Where did you get,” Sam pointed to the bloomers, “uh, that, uh, thing?”

  Horace stuck his stubby nose in the air. “Not tellin’.”

  “It seems to me, Manny, that you are in possession of stolen goods. Considering everything else I’ve heard here tonight, I’m putting you under arrest. Since we’re so close to Fort Laramie, we’ll have a trial there and decide your fate.”

  “You bastard!” Horace screamed.

  With his hands in his pockets, Jack wasn’t prepared for Manny’s charge. People stepped back as they crashed to the ground, Manny landing on Jack’s chest, pummeling him in the face while Jack tried to take control.

  “You son of a bitch. This is all your fault.” Horace’s spittle spattered Jack’s face between the punches. “If it weren’t for you, she’d be mine!”

  Jack arched his back, managing to throw Manny off. With his hands finally free, he pushed himself up from the mud and yanked Manny by the shirtfront, hauled him to his feet, and slammed his fist in his face. Manny went down like a felled tree.

  Jack’s hand hurt, and he’d probably have bruises on his face. But damn, it felt good to finally punch the man out. At least now Manny would be tied up in the lead wagon. Except for necessary breaks, he’d stay confined until they reached Fort Laramie. Knowing Sarah and Tommy would be safe once the train left the fort would make it easier for him to head home.

  “Okay, folks.” Sam flipped Horace to his stomach and wrapped a rope around his hands. “Show is over. Time to head to your wagons.”

  At Sam’s nod, several men helped him hoist Horace to his feet.

  “You haven’t seen the last of me, Billabard.” Horace spat on Jack’s boots, then Sarah’s dress. “You, neither, woman.” His curses dimmed as he was dragged away.

  “Are you all right?” Sarah handed Jack his hat and took Tommy from Greta. She’d never understand how he’d slept through the yelling.

  Jack brushed mud from the brim. “Except for a few bruises, I’ll be fine. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  Sarah huffed a breath and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry you got hurt protecting Tommy and me.” She shifted Tommy higher on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  How could the simple warmth of her fingers on his shirt settle in his groin and make him want her again when they’d just been together?

  Seeing how Sarah struggled to hold Tommy, Jack felt like a heel. Last week he’d have taken the burden from her. Making love with Sarah didn’t change the need to move on, just made it harder to do so.

  And his feelings for Sarah didn’t change his promise to his wife. “I need to see what damage the fire caused.” He turned his back on her and stepped away, ignoring her gasp.

  “Why don’t you let us take Tommy to our wagon,” Greta said.

  From the corner of his eye, Jack watched as Sarah passed Tommy to Greta’s husband.

 
; The boy yawned, “Night, Mommy. I love you. Night, Mister Bard. I love you, too.”

  A piece of Jack’s heart melted. He would not, could not tell the boy he loved him back. Seeing as how in a week he’d never see them again, it would be cruel, even though it was true. Instead he turned slightly and ran his hand over Tommy’s back. “Sleep well, young man.”

  Disregarding Sarah’s tear-filled eyes, he peered between the canvas flaps. The inside reeked of smoke. There wouldn’t be time to air it out before they left in the morning.

  “It doesn’t seem too bad.” Her voice quivered.

  Was she upset about the state of her wagon, or the way he was treating her? She brushed his shoulder with hers as she assessed the damage.

  “I can pull up the sides to let it air out.”

  There was another problem that would have to be faced. “Where will you sleep tonight?”

  Sarah bit her bottom lip. “With Horace locked up, it should be safe enough for me to sleep under the wagon.”

  Jack tied the canvas back and kicked at the burned-out ashes. “That’s true.” He paused. “You know there are those who won’t believe we were only talking tonight.”

  Sarah’s golden hair glittered in the moonlight. His cock flared to life. Even knowing he was leaving, he wanted to take her in his arms. Unbutton those tiny buttons again. Lay her down beneath her wagon and take her slow. Spend more time on her luscious breasts, kiss . . .

  “Are you all right?”

  Shit. Caught in the act of dreaming of being with Sarah again. Hopefully she couldn’t see his hard-on. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m fine. Just tired. With the storm and the fire, well . . . I’m exhausted.” Did he dare bring up their time beneath the tree?

  Sarah smoothed a finger over his cheek. “Not to mention the fight with Horace Manny. You’re going to have quite a shiner.”

  Jack ducked away from her gentle touch. Guilt rushed over him at her quick intake of breath. Now he’d hurt her feelings. Hell, he was sure he’d hurt her earlier when he told everyone he wouldn’t be staying with the train. And after their incredible lovemaking, leaving was essential for his emotional wellbeing.