by Bobbi Smith
No one spoke. Blade because he preferred not to; Angel and Lucky because every jarring movement of their mounts knocked the wind out of them. They passed endless fields of sugar cane and cotton. In the distance they could see the plantation estates of the owners of those fields, and Angel found herself duly impressed by their elegance. Most of the mansions were at least two stories tall with massive columns supporting the verandas that encircled them. Lush, green lawns spread out in manicured splendor before the southern palaces, and huge oaks draped with Spanish moss offered cooling shade and added beauty and a romantic mystique.
“Are you hungry?” Blade asked, finally breaking the silence as the sun climbed above them. “There’s a tavern a few miles ahead.” They’d been on the road for nearly three hours, and he was certain they were both in need of a rest.
“I am!” Lucky spoke up without waiting for Angel to answer. The small breakfast, eaten hurriedly that morning, hadn’t been nearly enough; but that was not his real motivation. He’d had enough and would have volunteered to take a bath just to get off Blue for a while. He glanced at Angel hoping she wanted down as much as he did.
“All right, let’s stop.” Angel answered, unaware that Lucky let out a whoop of joy at her decision. She was too busy wondering if she was going to be able to dismount, let alone stand up, once they reached the tavern.
The Cypress Inn was a ramshackle building. It had seen better days, but Angel didn’t give it a thought. She was grateful to come to a stop at the hitching rail and sat quietly, too tired to move.
Blade swung down from his horse and looped his reins, along with the reins of the pack horses, around the rail. He had started inside when he noticed Angel’s strained expression.
“Something wrong?” he ask with a straight face.
“No.” Her retort was instantaneous. She refused to let him see her in a state of weakness. With every ounce of strength she had left, e swung her leg over her horse’s back and slid, less than gracefully, to the ground. She leaned heavily against her mare, her legs like mush. After a moment, she took a few tentative steps, but she kept a supportive hand on her horse, just in case. She was relieved when feeling returned to her legs, and she was able to walk normally.
Lucky, too, was having trouble. He had managed to get down all right but could barely stand. His knees felt like water, and he was slow to follow Blade. He watched with admiration as Blade walked ahead of them with his usual easy stride. The long hours in the saddle had had no effect on him. In a valiant attempt, Lucky mimicked his swagger, but his wobbly legs turned it into a stagger.
In a move that both surprised and pleased Angel, Blade waited and held the door for them. She entered the cool, dark interior of the inn first and was glad to see that it wasn’t crowded.
The menu was sparse, but nourishing, and after they’d ordered, Angel went to freshen up. Crude though the facilities were, she did manage to wash her face and hands and she felt a little better when she returned to the table. As she crossed the room to rejoin them, she noticed how intently Lucky was listening to Blade. Her first reaction was negative for she feared the boy might accidentally reveal their secrets, but then she realized how starved Lucky was for male companionship and how good being with Blade was for him. Certainly, she could help him a lot, but there was no dismissing the influence a man had on a young boy. She hoped that the boy would not reveal any of their private dealings to the gunfighter. It was essential that her story remain intact.
The food was plentiful, if not particularly good, and as far as Angel and Lucky were concerned their time at the inn was too short. It seemed the moment they began to feel normal, it was time to mount up once more. Blade appeared behind Angel and helped her mount. His big, strong hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her with relative ease into the saddle. Their eyes met as he handed her up the reins, but she could read nothing in the dark gray depths. He helped Lucky up, too, and they headed north.
“I’m glad you came back!” Cyril exclaimed as the man approached the desk.
“You saw her?”
“I think I did. Of course, at the time I didn’t realize why she looked so familiar. Let me look at that portrait again,” the clerk suggested.
“Here.” Brad Watkins held out Angel’s picture, and Cyril smiled widely.
“That’s her, all right. She was in here last night.”
“She was?” Watkins was excited. At last, a break!
“Yes, sir. It was the strangest thing, too. A lady like her . . .” He gave a disapproving shake of his head. “I would have never thought—”
“You would have never thought, what?” he prodded.
“Why, her asking for Blade Masters, that’s what. She said her name was Angela Roberts and that she wanted to see Masters. When he wouldn’t come out of the bar to see her, she went traipsing right on in there looking for him!”
Watkins cursed. A day late! “What happened?”
“I don’t rightly know. She and Masters sat in the back of the bar talking for a while, and then they left here together. I never did see her after that. He came back, though.”
“Where’s this Masters now? What room’s he in? I have to talk to him.”
“He checked out this morning first thing.”
“Damn!”
“Do I get the reward money you were offering?”
“First, tell me this. Did she have a boy with her? Or another woman?”
“No. She was alone.”
The man paused thoughtfully, then told the desk clerk. “If you find out where they went after they left here, I’ll double this.” He handed over the promised twenty dollars.
“Where are you staying again?”
The man gave him the name of his hotel, and Cyril nodded.
“If I find out anything more, I’ll send word right away.”
Chapter Thirteen
Night. At last, it was night. Angel lay in her bedroll near the small campfire, staring up at the star-spangled sky with unseeing eyes. She’d thought herself a strong person. She’d thought she could handle anything. She’d thought she felt as bad as she was going to feel when she’d gotten off her horse; but as the hours had passed, her body had tightened up on her, and she’d found out just how wrong she’d been.
She ached everywhere. Blade had watched her throughout the evening, gauging her resilience. Steeped in pride, she’d refused to let him know her agony. She’d pretended she was fine and had almost convinced herself—until now. Lying flat on her back on the lumpy, unyielding ground, she’d discovered to her mortification that she was stuck. She couldn’t move.
Angel grimaced in the darkness as she tried unsuccessfully to shift positions. She’d never known the ground could be so hard! She wanted to be quiet because Lucky and Blade were sleeping nearby and she didn’t want them to wake up and find out how badly she was hurting. Angel slowly tried to lever herself up on one elbow so she could roll over.
Angel hadn’t meant to groan. The sound involuntarily escaped from her as she moved and unexpected pain exploded through her body. The groan surprised Angel as much as the way Blade, in the blink of an eye, was on his feet, his gun drawn and ready, peering into the darkness that surrounded them.
“Angela?” he said her name quietly, not wanting to cause alarm, yet ready for trouble.
Angel had been holding her breath, not only from the pain, but from the lightning way Blade had moved to protect them. He hadn’t made a sound, but had been ready to defend them almost instantly. It unnerved her a little to know that he was that good, and she trembled. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s nothing.”
It was a bald lie. The truth was Angel was caught in mid-roll and couldn’t move one way or the other. She gave a desperate shove, and another grunt escaped her as she managed to roll onto her stomach.
Blade, aware of her stiff, awkward movements, had admired her pluck. She was not a complainer. Now, however, he knew it was time to step in. Stiff-necked, proud woman that she w
as, his “boss” would suffer all night rather than ask for his help. Knowing at least that much about her personality, Blade holstered his gun, reached in his saddlebags, and hunkered down beside her.
“Lie still,” he commanded.
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” she asked, annoyed. She looked at him over her shoulder, a movement that caused her untold pain. “What do you want?”
“I want to help you.”
“Just go away. I’ll be fine.” Forcing a bravado she didn’t feel, Angela tried to hide the extent of her helplessness.
“If you think you’re sore tonight, wait until tomorrow,” Blade chuckled. “Now, take off your shirt.” He delivered the order in a deliberately gruff voice. If she wouldn’t accept it gracefully, he would force her to yield to the help she needed.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to use this liniment on you.” He held up a bottle for her inspection and waited as she read the label by the firelight. “If I don’t, you’ll be so sore in the morning that we’ll have to move at a snail’s pace and we won’t make any time at all.” When she still hesitated, he chided, “I thought you were in a hurry to get to your fiancé. You’ll be the one holding us back if you can’t stay on your horse.” He sat on his heels, waiting for her response.
Although irritated by his impeccable logic, Angel could not deny the truth in his words. If she felt bad now, how would she feel after lying in one position for the rest of the night? She regarded Blade frankly. “The liniment will really help?”
“I promise you’ll feel better.”
“All right. Use it,” she told him. But as her eyes met his, she felt a disturbing response to his presence. “Just be careful where you put it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be very careful,” he said slowly. “This is strictly an employer/employee relationship—unless you want to change our agreement?”
“No!” she protested quickly, and when he answered she could hear the laughter in his voice.
“I didn’t think so. Now, sit up—let me help you—and take your blouse off. You’ll notice a change by morning.”
With Blade’s assistance Angel managed to rise to a sitting position and awkwardly began to unbutton her blouse. Blade watched her free the top button, then the second one. His gaze was fixed on her slender fingers as she worked the third button where it fastened over her breasts. His throat tightened, and his concentration grew fierce as he waited for the pearl restraint to slip through the buttonhole. Suddenly, he wanted to be the one freeing that button. He wanted to be the one baring the treasure hidden beneath the protective layer of cloth. When she loosed the button, he caught a glimpse of the creamy slope of her breasts above the lacy edge of her camisole, and his heart slammed against his ribs. Quickly, he swung his gaze away. Over and over in his mind, he repeated, She’s the boss. She’s the boss.
Angel finished the last button and attempted to shrug out of the blouse, but the movement was excruciatingly painful.
“Here, let me,” Blade offered. Without giving her opportunity to protest, he slipped the garment gently from her shoulders. Laying the blouse aside, he opened the bottle of liniment and poured some into the palm of his hand to warm it.
“This will go on better if you lie back down.”
Angel managed to stretch out once again on her blanket.
Blade stared down at her as she lay quietly before him. Burnished by the flickering light of the campfire, she was a golden goddess, and another kind of heat began to burn low in his body. He traced the graceful line of her neck and shoulders with his eyes and his unbidden stirrings of desire grew even stronger.
Blade told himself this was business. He was always in control, and he meant to stay that way. He was going to get his ranch, and she was going to California to get married. It didn’t matter that one of the thin straps from the delicate web of her camisole had slipped down her shoulder. All that mattered was that he massage the liniment into her soft, satiny flesh and be done with it.
Giving himself a stern mental shake, Blade forced his errant thoughts back under tight control. She was his boss. A man didn’t kiss his boss, but then he’d never had a boss like Angela Roberts before. The thought brought a wry smile to his lips.
“This may feel a little cold at first,” he said finally, warning her that he was about to begin.
“I’m ready. Go ahead.” Angel had her head turned to one side and her eyes closed. Whatever he was going to do to her, she couldn’t feel any worse than she did right now.
Blade brushed her thick, golden braid aside and then nudged the other camisole strap down to give him unhampered access to her neck, shoulders, and back. When he reached out to begin his massage, it startled him to find that his hands were shaking. By sheer force of will, he stilled them and then spread the lotion evenly over her shoulders. He rubbed it in, marveling at the silken softness of her. Beneath the satin of her skin, though, Blade could feel the terrible tightness of strained muscles, and he kneaded her neck and shoulders, easing her misery.
As his big hands worked their magic, Angel drew a ragged breath. She was surprised he could be so gentle. His massage felt more like a caress than a curative. He knew exactly where she was having the most pain and exactly the right amount of pressure to use to relieve it. His sure expertise lulled her. When he started to work down her spine, spreading his hands across the width of her back, it felt so good she couldn’t suppress a moan.
At the sound, Blade stopped immediately. “Did I hurt you?”
“Yes,” she managed in a husky, lethargic whisper, “but it hurt good, if that makes any sense.”
“It does,” Blade told her, and he resumed working his way down her spine, stopping only when he came to the top of the dangerously low camisole. He stared down at his hands upon her back, noticing how dark they seemed against her pale skin. Another surge of desire shot through him. Blade wanted to press a kiss to the nape of her neck. He wanted to take her in his arms and strip away the swathe of silk that separated her flesh from his. Angela was lovely. Angela was beautiful. Angela was lying quiet and expectant. He wanted to ... Angela was his boss. The thought screamed through his senses, jolting him back to reality. He stopped cold, not trusting himself any further, and withdrew from contact with her.
“Are you done?” Angel asked, jarred by the cessation of his hynotic touch. She couldn’t imagine why he’d suddenly stopped and then realized that the sharp-edged pain had dulled to a throb.
“For tonight,” Blade answered a little more curtly than he’d meant to as he picked up her blouse. “Do you feel any better?”
“Much.”
“Let’s get your blouse back on.”
He watched as she started to sit up, greatly relieved when she repositioned the camisole straps. He wrenched his gaze away from the smooth arc of her throat and the softly sculptured line of her bosom beneath the clinging undergarment. She was a temptation, and Blade gritted his teeth against the baser urges that filled him. When she was ready, he held her blouse so she could slip her arms into the sleeves.
“You’ll need the liniment again tomorrow night,” he advised her, and Angel grunted a reply as she lay back down. She was so exhausted and finally relaxed, now that the pain was gone, that she was already drifting into blessed oblivion.
“Well, good night.” He got to his feet.
Angel was almost asleep when she murmured. “Blade . . . thanks.”
Blade scowled, annoyed that his body responded to the soft sound of her voice. He tightened the lid on the liniment a little too tightly and stuffed it back into his saddlebag. As he lay down on his own bedroll, Blade was ready to swear out loud. Before, Angela had been the one who couldn’t sleep; now, he was going to be the one desperate for rest. This time it was his body that was aching, but for a very different reason.
He stared up at the starry sky. She would need another massage tomorrow. Was he dreading or looking forward to it? Then he remembered the reason for her despera
te trip to California—her beloved fiancé. With an animal-like growl, Blade rolled onto his stomach in search of sleep.
Angel awoke before daybreak. As she sat up in her bedroll, she was pleased to discover that she felt reasonably good. The liniment had worked wonders, and she threw off her blanket. But when she tried to stand, the deadness she’d felt in her legs yesterday had transformed into raw agony. She bit her lip to keep from crying out loud as she struggled to her feet.
“Good morning, Angel!” Lucky was exceedingly cheerful as he brought her a cup full of fresh, hot coffee.
“Good morning,” she returned, wondering how he could be so happy. Surely, he had to be aching as much as she was. “How do you feel this morning?”
“Fine, why?”
“I’m a little sore, and I thought you might be, too.”
“No. I don’t hurt at all.”
“It must be because you’re young,” she sighed with a smile, envious of his youth and vigor.
“Well, I’ve been up for over an hour helping Blade. He’s teaching me how to take care of the horses,” he told her proudly.
“And you’re a fast learner,” the gunfighter said as he came to see how Angel was doing. “How are you?”
“Half of me is fine, but the other half.... How long will it be before all parts of me are working in harmony again?”
“About a week. But when we start across Texas, it’s going to be a much harder ride. At least here we’ve got some roads, bad as they are. Once we leave Louisiana, we’ll be riding cross-country.”
Angel gave a lift of her chin as she replied, “Then I’ll just have to work that much harder at getting in shape, won’t I?”
“You’re doing well, but you can expect today to be the roughest of the whole trip.”
“Then let’s get started and get it over with.”
