Montana Surrender Page 7

  "Cinnabar? That roan you were riding last night?"

  Jessica gasped. "You! You must have Cinnabar! Or one of the men with you last night." She laid an imploring hand on his chest. "Please. I'll...I'll find some way to pay you if you give him back. He's...I've had him since shortly after he was born. He's one of the few things left in my life that's dear to me."

  Her words stirred his sympathy again. She was much too beautiful to have to beg such a favor from him — a favor so easily granted. Guilt filled him, and he found himself unable to tear his black eyes away from her pleading brown ones, the small hand on his chest sending tingles throughout his upper body. His mind ordered his arms up to remove the hand so he could think straight, but instead he found his arms curving around her to pull her even closer.

  "Pay me, huh?" he said without thinking. "There are other ways to pay a person than with money."

  Jessica tried without success to still her hands as they crept up his chest toward his neck.

  "I...I won't...."

  "No, pretty lady," he said as he lowered his head. "You can set the boundaries of your payment. I won't take more than you offer."

  The remembered dreams of the previous night didn't even begin to compare with the reality of once again having his lips on hers. His mouth covered hers softly and tenderly at first, then more firmly as her hands found their place on his neck and tugged against him.

  She clung greedily to him, her breasts at first only brushing, then flattening against the firm chest as she snuggled against him. It felt so good to be in his arms. All her worries flew away and she found herself yearning to never leave the peace and contentment of his embrace.

  But she found something else there, too. The sweet fire stirred sluggishly in her blood at first, then overtook her senses in a rush. When he reluctantly drew his lips away, she threw her head back, offering her slender neck to his ministrations.

  The man groaned and lowered his head again. She tasted and smelled almost the same as he remembered, except for a faint hint of roses today. And holding her again chased the pain from his mind and made him crave four walls around them, giving them privacy to savor each other for hours. If his senses didn't lie to him, she would enjoy it as much as he would.

  Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he heard a tiny voice trying to break through the turmoil of his thoughts. He was taking advantage of her muddled senses. She wasn't completely recovered from the snake's attack or the memories it brought back to her. A moment ago, he'd wanted to comfort her — now he found himself drinking deeply of the surcease so freely flowing into his mind as he held her.

  Angrily he raised his head and shook it to force the thread of reason back into a dark corner. Though he could never share a future with someone like her, he could have a few minutes more with her right now. He watched her eyes open half way and the long lashes sweep downward once to flutter against her pink cheeks before she opened them fully again.

  Jessica had only a glimpse of the ebony eyes softened now in passion, the pain she had sensed in them earlier pushed aside. She gladly opened her mouth under his again and closed her eyes in pleasure when his hand came up to cup her breast. She felt him lean back against the rock beside them and grasp her hip with his free hand to pull her against the length of him.

  Far from frightening her, the hardness Jessica found herself nestled against as he spread his legs and lifted her feet from the ground sent a moan of greedy passion from her throat. Her arms tightened around his neck and she clung frantically when a new flame raced through her. Finding herself in no danger of wilting to the ground in his firm grasp, one hand unconsciously whispered downward, across his chest and on a path to investigate the source of the pleasure cascading over her.

  Heated flesh met her exploring fingers as they slid into a hole in the faded denim encasing his legs. She felt him jerk — heard him gasp, then immediately staggered to regain her balance and rubbed at the reddened marks his fingers left on her arms when he thrust her away from him.

  He almost lost himself again as he stared into her puzzled brown eyes. Tears misted the question he saw there and her kiss-pouted lips trembled as she misinterpreted his frowning countenance as anger at her, not the passion it truly spoke of.

  "God, pretty lady," he said with a groan. "Don't you know what you do to a man?"

  Jessica shook her head silently, sable curls tossing around her dejected face.

  "But I know what you do to me," she almost whispered.

  All at once a violent blush stole over her cheeks and she whirled away from him. She jerked away a step when his hands cupped her shoulders and rigidly stared into the distance.

  "Please," she gulped. "Just leave now. Leave me alone."

  "All right," he said quietly. "But I'll be watching you until you get back into town. You won't see me, but I'll be there."

  "Just go!" Jessica pleaded.

  "I'll make sure both your horses get back to you, pretty lady."

  Jessica almost stumbled when she abruptly turned around, but she gasped and quickly pulled her hand from his steadying grasp.

  "Cinnabar!" she demanded. "Where is he? You promised!"

  "I keep my promises, pretty lady," he assured her. "I wouldn't dream of reneging on this one, especially when I've already received such a delightful payment for it. I can't give him to you right now, but you'll have your horse back by tomorrow."

  Jessica found herself believing him as she met the sincere gaze in his black eyes. She nodded her head slightly, unable to tear her own eyes away. Her pink tongue came out to moisten her suddenly dry lips, and she heard the man grunt as though struck in the stomach as he broke the contact.

  Jessica watched him move away, then shrank back a step in fear as he made a swipe and picked up the snake by its tail.

  "What...what are you going to do with that?" she gasped.

  "Supper," he threw over his shoulder without breaking stride.

  She shuddered and closed her eyes for a second. When she looked again, only empty space met her gaze.

  Her words tumbled out without thought. "I don't even know your name!" she called to the emptiness. Only the snort of the gelding standing several yards away answered her.

  But she could feel his presence for a long time afterwards. She thought she would almost have known he was watching her, even if he hadn't told her. She felt his eyes on her when she picked up her hat before she caught the gelding and deftly removed the small stone from its hoof. She could feel him nod in satisfaction, along with herself, when the horse moved off without a limp toward where her men were camped.

  And for some crazy reason she found herself holding back one of the cans of peaches from the men. After she headed back to town and rode out of sight of the camp, she pulled the gelding up beside a convenient rock. Leaning over, she set the last can out in plain sight.

  "Dessert," she called out in a shaky voice, then nudged the horse into motion again.

  And she felt the moment his eyes left her, when the town came into sight. Her shoulders jerked reflexively, as though from a wrench of loss of contact.

  Chapter 7

  Though Buster assured Jessica a few moments later that Ned had already gone up to his room, only silence met her ears when she tapped on the door. She knocked a little harder, and heard the bedsprings protest as someone rolled across them.

  Ned's strangely muffled voice came through the door. "C...comin'. Just a sec."

  The Ned who opened the door wasn't in any condition for Jessica to discuss the tale of her ride with. He swayed as he stepped back, and Jessica caught a whiff of cheap whiskey on his breath.

  "Oh, Ned," she said softly. "What would Mattie say?"

  "Well, we don't really have ta tell her, do we, Jes?" He winked sloppily at her and twisted his lips into a sly grin.

  Jessica found herself laughing at him. "No, I guess we don't, Ned. But I've never seen you take more than a drink or two in my life."

  "Haven't too often, Jes. But there
's at least one friendly feller in this town. Got to talkin' we did, and time just got away from me."

  "And I'd guess the number of drinks you had got away from you, too."

  "Must have, Jes," he agreed with another wink.

  "Who was he, Ned?"

  Ned reached up and scratched his head. "Well, now, come to think of it, I never did get his name. He sure was likable, though."

  "He must have been, for you to sit drinking for over two hours with a stranger whose name you didn't even know," Jessica said in a dry voice. "Do you think you can be ready to go down to supper by the time I change? Or should I have Eloise bring you up some coffee first?"

  "I'll be ready, Jes. You go on. I'll just wash up and be right there."

  Jessica sniffed and turned to the door, where she paused for a moment.

  "You might put on a different shirt, too, if you have another clean one. That one smells like tobacco smoke."

  She closed the door, then shook her head and smiled to herself as she walked across the hall to her own room. She cared too much about Ned to chastise him for a couple hours' enjoyment after their long days on the trail.

  In her room Jessica walked over to the wash basin sitting in the late afternoon sun shining through the window to warm it slightly. She pulled the shade down, unbuttoned her blouse and reached for the washcloth to wet it and clean the dust from her face.

  The cloth wasn't really as soft as she would like. In fact, it rasped against her face slightly, feeling almost like a man's whiskers. She drew it down over her neck and across the tops of her breasts under the chemise.

  The coldness of the cloth she unconsciously drew back and forth over her breasts finally brought her to her senses a time later. She gave a start and dunked it back into the water to warm it. After wringing it out again, she stood over the basin and watched the ripples of water calm once more. She stared into the water, now somewhat murky with dust.

  She had a face now to put with the voice and body that had kept her tossing and turning all the night before. She could almost see it peering back at her from the water. Those eyes — at times so hard with shadowed pain they were as flat as the eyes of the snake on the trail. Other times they softened to almost brown when he looked at her.

  She found herself longing for Mattie and the frank talks they shared. How many times had she come home from a barn dance or church social all starry eyed over some young cowboy's attention? There were plenty of stolen kisses in the shadows when couples could escape the sharp eyes of the dance chaperones. None of the kisses she received ever stirred her as much as the stranger's did, though, she admitted.

  She had also received her share of rides home from church and evenings spent on the front porch swing at the ranch house with one or another of her latest suitors. And, true to Mattie's frank warnings, none of the young men she allowed to kiss her at the dances or on the porch were satisfied for long with only kisses. Each time the familiar groping would start — whether in the darkness of the front porch or maybe on a picnic she allowed herself to be talked into — she would feel a repugnance crawl through her veins. The suitor would be cut dead by Jessica's cold eyes the next time he dared approach her.

  Not once had she ever even slightly experienced the feelings that Mattie hinted she would find with a man some day.

  "Maybe that's been the trouble all along," she mused to herself. "All those others were just boys. The person I met out there is definitely a man."

  A man who's seen lots of pain in his probably at least twenty odd years, her mind continued. Maybe even closer to thirty. A man who has something to hide.

  Instead of the thought scaring her, Jessica felt her heart tug inside her breast.

  And how could she ever have imagined how she would feel in those strong arms? Was it the lust Mattie had also frankly told her some people mistook for love? Was there a sensuous part of her that could be stirred to the point where she lost her control? To the point where she would have lain down in the stones on the trail with him if he hadn't pushed her away?

  Oh, she had no delusions about lust. Who could watch the stallions cover the mares on the ranch, then see them walk away to graze without a backward glance and not know about lust? Quickly satisfied, lust was.

  But what about the winter mornings she knocked on Mattie's door to find her still ensconced in bed with Ned, lingering for a moment longer before she rose to face another busy day? And what about the times she came into the kitchen to find Ned sneaking a quick kiss from Mattie before he set his hat on his head and left?

  Mattie would only get a dreamy expression on her face when Jessica questioned her. She would know someday, Mattie would tell her.

  A sharp rap on the door jerked Jessica around.

  "Ready, Jes?" Ned called through the thin structure.

  "You...you go on down, Ned," Jessica called back. "I'll be there in a minute."

  Jessica heard him grumble something about how long it took women to dress as he moved away.

  "My God, Storm! I wish you wouldn't do that!" Idalee's hand flew up to cover the low decolletage of her dress as the big man stepped out from behind a sheltering curtain.

  She raced across the room when he smiled and held his arms open, straight into his warm embrace. She snuggled against him, then threw her arms around his neck to draw his face down for a brief kiss. Her hands caressed his cheeks as she pulled back to look up at him.

  "One of these days you're going to give me a stroke."

  Storm chuckled softly and released her without answering. Stepping away from her, he settled in a comfortable, stuffed chair beside the curtains. He stretched his long legs out, crossing them at the ankles, before he sighed and smiled at her.

  "Wouldn't be any fun if I didn't surprise you once in a while, Idy."

  "And how many times have I asked you not to call me that? Huh, Storm?" Idalee said grumpily. "And where the hell have you been all this time?"

  "Around," Storm replied vaguely. "I see your language hasn't improved. You got anything here to drink besides that rotgut you serve your customers?"

  Storm watched Idalee purse her lips into a disapproving pout at his insult and walk over to the velvet bell pull beside the speaking tube in the corner of the room. She hadn't changed at all in the months he had been gone. Still the same proud tilt to the small, pointed chin and the same luster to the red-gold curls tumbling down her back.

  Her emerald gown, a bit too much for this early in the afternoon, encased her tiny figure to perfection. Only a spattering of freckles on a pert nose set under cat green eyes remained to remind him of the pigtailed creature who had followed him around years ago.

  Funny. Once he had thought Idalee had grown into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, though he enjoyed teasing her about the freckles way too much to tell her they only added to her elfish beauty. But today the silky softness of sable curls and the gold flecks in a pair of brown eyes tugged at his senses — and lips just full enough to be meant for kissing.

  Idalee had never set a horse as though born to the saddle, yet still exuding the essence of femininity. And the fuller figure of the pretty lady fit the space in his arms just exactly right.

  Storm relaxed a little and allowed his lids to droop over his dark eyes. He would probably never see her again, unless he stumbled across her yet another time when her own foolish actions placed her in danger. Beauty the pretty lady might have, but she obviously had been hiding under a cabbage leaf when the Good Lord passed out brains. She needed a guardian angel!

  It damned sure wasn't going to be him, Storm told himself as he tried to fight the drowsiness overcoming him. He needed to talk to Idalee about...what? Of course. He really should apologize for not coming to see her as soon as he escaped, if only to thank her for the comfortable hiding place she fixed up for him. He could almost feel safe there. And here. Almost. And damned it felt good after so long on edge day in and night out.

  Idalee turned and stilled the terse words on her lips telli
ng Storm the lemonade he enjoyed was on the way. Her mouth softened and the green eyes took on a look of love for the large man stretched out before her.

  His body almost overpowered the chair, his shoulders touching each side of the curved back. She would have to talk him into staying long enough to give him a haircut. Though the shiny black locks shone with health, they almost brushed his shoulders.

  Idalee's eyes traveled down the arms encased by the blue plaid shirt to where his thumbs hooked into his denim jeans on each side of the top button. Plenty of room in the overstuffed chair for his narrow hips, but she knew from the times she teasingly patted him on the backside that the back of his jeans would be pulled tight.

  The front, too, she laughed silently to herself. Maybe she could figure out some way to get him a set of men's clothing from the general store without arousing suspicion. Elias's clothes wouldn't fit him, and that jagged tear on the frayed jeans loomed dangerously close to his crotch — though how anything embarrassing to him might escape the tight material she couldn't imagine.

  She would definitely have to find a way to at least get him a pair of jeans, she thought, letting her eyes wander down the thin material covering his long legs. Why, the denim was so worn as to be almost transparent and it clung tightly to his muscular thighs. At least his moccasins looked in fairly good shape, but she guessed he had made them himself.

  He was truly a magnificent male specimen. Why, she had even had a short infatuation with him herself in their teens, when both of them were trying to get a handle on their emerging sexuality. Recalling the puzzled look on Storm's face the couple of times they had shared an experimental kiss, Idalee giggled quietly. She had probably had that same look on her own face.

  All the books said that flaming passion started with kisses — passion that swept away reason and ended with a girl getting in "trouble". Or, at least that was what her mother had insisted, though she and her girls knew better now.

  But there hadn't even been a tiny spark to begin a flame when she and Storm kissed. Probably the most mature decision they had made in their teens had been to accept the deep friendship between them — to agree to always be there for one another, while realizing that the love they had for each other wasn't marriage love.