“No.” The word was soft, final.
“Why not?”
“Spring and fall are when Lord Robert’s managers are most needed on his country estates.”
The chill moving through Jessica congealed into ice and settled into the pit of her stomach.
“What does that have to do with us?” she asked tightly.
“I will be one of those managers.”
“What are you saying?”
Wolfe looked out the window. “We will live in England.”
“You hate England.”
Wolfe shrugged. “Parts of the countryside are quite pretty.”
“They’re not a patch on this,” she said, indicating the wild beauty of the mountains beyond the window.
“No. They’re not.”
“What of your mustangs?”
“I’m giving them to Caleb.”
Jessica swayed and whispered. “You mean never to come back to the West!”
Wolfe didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The shadows in his eyes said all that was necessary.
“But why? You love this land. I’ve seen you, Wolfe. You watch these mountains the way a man watches a woman he loves.”
“Let it go, Jessi.”
“No! Why can’t we live here? Why must we live in England?”
“This is no place for you,” Wolfe said quietly. “You have to be born for this land. You weren’t.”
“And you were.”
He made an odd, almost helpless gesture. “Yes. But I can survive England. You can’t survive the West.”
“Dear God, how you must hate me.”
Swiftly, Wolfe turned and touched Jessica’s cheek. “I don’t hate you, elf.”
“You will. I’ve cost you the only thing you’ve ever truly loved. You will hate me as surely and as deeply as you love the land!”
Wolfe saw the shine of tears on Jessica’s face and gathered her into his arms. “Hush, wife. You’re only hurting yourself.”
“I don’t want to live in England,” she said flatly, pushing away from him. “Do you hear me? I love the mountains. Why can’t we live here?”
“You gave yourself into my care. I won’t watch this wild land kill you.”
Jessica’s hands clenched against Wolfe’s shirt, digging into the hard muscle beneath the cloth.
“Wolfe, listen to me. I am stronger than you believe. If I were the weak little elf you think me, I would have died as a child!”
His hand curled beneath her chin. Silently, he felt the delicate bone structure and soft skin. He smiled sadly.
“You haven’t half my strength,” Wolfe said. “In England, that won’t matter.”
“In England no one looks beyond your bastardy and Indian blood,” she said harshly. “Here you have friends and a chance to build a better life for yourself. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see what—”
Wolfe’s thumb pressed against Jessica’s lips, sealing in her urgent words. 1
“I’ve always seen that,” he said in a calm voice, “It’s why I left England, and you. I could have you or I could have the West. I took you, knowing what the end would be. England.”
“But I—”
“It’s done, Jessi,” he interrupted flatly. “It was done when I took your maidenhead.”
“Wolfe, please believe me. I didn’t mean for this to happen! Not like this. Dear God, not like this!”
Gently, Wolfe took Jessica’s clenched hands from his shirt. “I know. But all your pleas and tears won’t change what is. You are what you are. I am what I am. We are husband and wife and England will be our home.”
Jessica closed her eyes. She would have preferred blows to Wolfe’s calm summation of their marriage.
“Go begin packing,” Wolfe said quietly. “I’ll help Caleb for the time that is left.”
The kitchen door opened and closed softly behind Wolfe.
For a long time, Jessica stared blindly at the door, seeing nothing but the tears overflowing her eyes, understanding too late what Wolfe had always known: Their marriage would destroy one of them, if not both.
Agree to an annulment. Damn you, let me go!
I’m the wrong husband for you. You’re the wrong wife for me. Lying together would be the worst mistake of my life.
You were not born for the Western wilderness. I was.
Don’t love me, Jessi. It will only hurt us both.
It’s done, Jessi. It was done when I took your maidenhead.
You are what you are. I am what I am.
Tree That Stands Alone.
Jessica opened her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stave off the ice radiating through her soul. With the same fierce determination she once had used to survive as a child, she searched now for a way out of the trap she had sprung around Wolfe.
When she finally found it, she washed the marks of grief from her face and went to find Caleb Black.
“DELAYING won’t accomplish anything,” Wolfe said, continuing the argument that had begun the moment Jessica had awakened him at dawn. “Whether we leave today or ten days after, we’re still leaving.”
“I said I would return to England without a fuss if you would hunt mustangs for one last rime,” Jessica said evenly. “I meant it.”
Warily, Wolfe looked at Jessica. He had seen her in many moods, from intense fear to intense passion, but never had he seen her like this. There was nothing fey or elfin about her now, nor anything fragile. There was simply an ingathering of strength and purpose that reminded him of nothing so much as himself.
“I don’t want to hunt mustangs,” Wolfe said carefully.
“Then do it for Caleb. He needs more horses in order to work his ranch properly. He said so himself.”
Wolfe looked uneasily at Jessica. He sensed the wild grief in her as clearly as she had sensed it in him that morning. Yet there were no tears in her eyes, no resonances of passion in her voice.
He didn’t know her this way. The realization frightened him.
Wolfe’s hands flashed out, pulling Jessica into his arms. “I won’t take you into the wild with me,” he said harshly.
“I know.”
“Is that why you’re so eager for me to hunt mustangs? Are you already tired of having me in your bed and body?”
The words were hardly out of Wolfe’s mouth before Jessica was kissing him as though she expected to die in the next moment and wanted him never to forget what she had been like when fully alive. He kissed her in the same way until they both were breathing brokenly, consumed by passion.
“Fill me,” Jessica whispered against his mouth. “Fill me until I can’t remember what it is to be separate from you. Fill me as though it were the last time.”
With a hoarse sound, Wolfe swept the filmy layers of Jessica’s nightgown above her waist. He whispered her name as he knelt between her legs and drew them up over his thighs. The melting ease of his penetration told him more about her love than any words could have. The sweetness of being possessed by him and possessing him in turn dragged a husky sound from the back of her throat.
“More,” Jessica said urgently. “Wolfe, I must have more of you.”
“You’re too small. I’ll hurt you.”
“Please…”
She pulled at him, straining against him, asking for more of him, asking for all that he had to give, her words a dark fire licking over him, making him shudder with a need unlike any he had known before. With a hoarse sound, he slid his arms beneath her knees and lifted her legs, opening her without reservation. She moaned and bit her lip and arched against him, asking for more. Her silken heat spilled over him, underlining her whispered pleas.
“To think I called you a nun,” Wolfe said hoarsely. “You are fire, elf. Burn for me.”
Then he gave her what she was crying for, filling her, sinking into her so deeply that she felt him all through her body until she was stretched on a golden rack of ecstasy and she burned.
Wolfe felt Jessica’s wild release begi
n and laughed with elemental triumph. He moved slowly, deeply, dragging cries from her, watching her burn, burning with her as the silky fire of her ecstasy fused their bodies together. He drove repeatedly into her, sinking more deeply into her fire, wanting it never to end. But she felt too good, she lured him too profoundly. Her words and rippling cries and sleek body demanded that he give himself to her as completely as she had given herself to him.
Even as Wolfe tried to hold back, he knew it was too late. He was too much a part of her, his body so deeply joined with hers that he didn’t know where he ended and she began, two flames intertwined, burning redoubled with each breath. Fighting no more, he gave himself to her and to the ecstasy that burned ever higher, feeding on his release, renewing and consuming both of them until they burned as a single flame, inseparable.
CALEB was waiting for Jessica in the kitchen. He looked at her pale, drawn face and bleak eyes and said something savage beneath his breath.
“You really mean to go through with this damn fool idea?” he demanded.
“Yes.”
“Did you tell Wolfe?”
“That wasn’t part of our bargain. I agreed not to set out alone if you would agree not to tell Wolfe that I was going.”
Caleb took off his hat, ran long fingers through his black hair, and said bluntly, “I think this is a piss-poor idea.”
“I’m aware of that,” Jessica said in a clipped voice. “I’m also aware that Wolfe would probably kill Reno or Rafe if they helped me. Wolfe won’t kill you.”
“You’re a lot more certain of that than I am,” Caleb retorted.
“Wolfe will be angry, but he knows there is no other woman for you except Willow. Reno or Rafe wouldn’t touch me, either, but I’m afraid to test Wolfe’s temper that far. He might shoot before he asked questions. He’s frighteningly good with that rifle.”
“Seems like a man as possessive as Wolfe is just might love his wife.”
“Desire isn’t love,” Jessica said tightly.
“Jessi—” Caleb began, only to be interrupted.
“I trapped Tree That Stands Alone into marriage. I’m setting him free.”
“Jessi—”
“Are the horses ready?” she asked, cutting across his attempts to speak.
There was a taut silence.
“I’m damn tempted to ride out after Wolfe,” Caleb said finally.
“I can’t stop you.”
“And I can’t stop you, either, is that it? You’ll cut and run off in the wild the first chance you get, and the Devil take the hindmost.”
“Of course. That’s the only reason you agreed to take me to the stage in the first place.”
“Blackmail.”
“In a word, yes.”
Caleb’s mouth turned down as he looked at the darkness and determination in Jessica’s eyes. It reminded him of the time Willow had set out alone on Ishmael in the middle of the night rather than go through with a marriage she believed Caleb didn’t want. Willow had come very close to dying because of her determination that Caleb be set free. The memory of nearly losing her still haunted him at odd moments, making him go to Willow and hold her, reassuring himself that she was alive, safe, his.
Jessica was no less determined to do what she believed was right than Willow had been. All Caleb could do was see that Jessica stayed safe until Wolfe had a chance to sort out the mess.
Grimly, Caleb pulled out his six-gun, spun the cylinder to check the load, and holstered the gun with a smoothness that told its own deadly story.
“The horses are waiting, Mrs. Lonetree.”
Tears came unbidden to her eyes. “My name is Lady Jessica Charteris.”
“CALL it,” Reno said.
“Heads,” said Rafe.
“Tails.”
Rafe flipped the coin.
Reno’s hand flashed out, caught the coin, and smacked it down on the back of his hand. He pocketed the coin without bothering to look at it.
“Tails,” Reno said, turning away.
As he reached for his horse’s rein, the bullwhip Rafe was holding rippled and writhed as though alive. Suddenly, the tip cracked with the sound of a pistol shot.
Reno turned toward Rafe, who was coiling the whip with swift motions of his hands.
“That’s your free one, Matt,” Rafe said flatly. “Don’t do it again. Which horses do you want?”
“Only one of us is going. Me. You’re staying with Willow.”
Rafe smiled thinly. “I figured that out real quick. What you haven’t figured out is Wolfe was so eager to get finished hunting mustangs and get back to his wife that he left here at a dead run.”
Reno hesitated, listening.
“By the time you catch up and the two of you get back to the ranch,” Rafe continued, “Caleb will have a hell of a long lead on you. So which of Caleb’s horses are best for making up time over rough country?”
“Willow said to be sure one of the horses we had waiting for Wolfe was Ishmael.”
“All right. Who else?”
Reno’s smile was as hard and brilliant as his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Everything Caleb left here is better than anything he took with him. That boy was in no hurry to put daylight between himself and Wolfe.”
Rafe blinked and then laughed softly. “Tricky.”
“Smart. Wolfe is going to come down off the mountain like a blue norther.”
“Maybe. And maybe he’ll just let Jessi go. From what I’ve seen, he wasn’t any too pleased to be married to her.”
Pale green eyes assessed Rafe before Reno showed his teeth in a wolfish smile. “And that’s just what you were planning to rub Wolfe’s face in, wasn’t it?”
Rafe’s smile was as cold as his gray eyes. “That’s a fact. He was hard on her.”
“He had some cause, and Jessi was the first one to say so.”
“All the same, I’d like to be the one to tell Wolfe.”
“Sorry, big brother. This one is mine.” Reno swung into the saddle and looked down at Rafe. “Think. Why do you suppose Jessica asked Caleb to go instead of one of us?”
“I’ve been wondering about that,” Rafe admitted, “what with a wife and new baby to look after and all.”
“Stop wondering. Caleb is married to the soles of his feet and Wolfe knows it. So does Jessi.”
“Neither one of us would have touched Jessi,” Rafe said instantly. “She knows that.”
“Uh-huh. Now, do you want to be the one to explain it all to Wolfe while he’s a half mile away, taking your measure over the barrel of a rifle?”
“If Jessi didn’t love that hard-headed son of a bitch, I’d be glad to explain it to Wolfe any way I got the chance.”
“So would I,” Reno said flatly. “But she does love him.”
Rafe’s mouth tightened. He nodded and stepped out of the way.
“All right, Blackfoot,” Reno said. “Let’s see if you’re half the running fool Jed Slater thought you were.”
The tall black horse leaped forward, hitting its full stride in seconds.
THE second day on the trail, Caleb spent as much time looking over his shoulder as he did watching the route ahead.
“Stop putting a kink in your neck,” Jessica said, looking up from the stream where the horses were drinking. “Wolfe isn’t coming after me.”
“For a bright girl, you can be stump dumb at times.” Caleb checked the cinch on the pack saddle and then on his own horse. “Wolfe loves you.”
“He wants me. There’s a difference.”
“Not for a man, honey. Not at first.”
Caleb swung up on his horse and started forward again, leaving Jessica staring after him. He kept to a steady pace, not wanting her to accuse him of shirking his side of the bargain. On the other hand, he never took the shortest route around any obstacle. No point in giving Wolfe cause to be any angrier than he already would be.
It was late afternoon before Caleb reined in to study the route ahead. On either side lay a cluster of r
aw mountain peaks which were separated by a broad band of land that was clothed in trees, scrub, and grass. The divide was several miles wide at the bottom and less than a mile at its highest elevation. Where Caleb and Willow were, the land was green with the wild rush of spring and alive with meltwater from the nearby mountains.
“We’ll camp here,” Caleb said.
“It won’t be dark for two hours.”
Caleb slanted Jessica a cool amber glance. “It will take longer than that to get over the divide. If we don’t camp here, we’ll be picking our way through a half-frozen marsh in the dark with no place to sleep but sitting up in the saddle.”
Jessica met Caleb’s glance, sighed, and looked uneasily over her shoulder. She thought she had caught movement behind them, but Caleb didn’t seemed concerned. When she looked back, he was watching her with an odd smile on his face.
“Don’t fret, Red,” Caleb said kindly. “I gave you enough lead on your man that he’ll work off the worst of his mad before he catches us.”
“Wolfe isn’t coming.”
“Horseshit.”
Jessica gave Caleb a startled look.
He smiled as gently as though she were Willow.
“Even if you’re right,” Jessica said with a catch in her voice, “Wolfe couldn’t get to us this quickly without riding a horse to death. He wouldn’t do that.”
“One horse couldn’t get the job done,” Caleb agreed. “Three could, though—Deuce, Trey, and Ishmael.”
“What?”
Caleb looked past Jessica at the open ground they had just covered.
“If I were you,” he said, “I’d spend the next few minutes thinking up ways to take the edge off Wolfe’s temper.”
The certainty in Caleb’s voice sent a stroke of unease through Jessica. She stood in her stirrups and looked past him.
Two big black horses and one smaller sorrel had broken from the cover of the forest and were running flat out toward her up the long sweep of the grassy divide. Only one horse carried a man. As she watched, the rider leaped from the back of one of the blacks to the sorrel without slowing the pace one bit.
“Dear God,” she breathed.
“Looks more like Wolfe Lonetree to me,” Caleb said dryly.
With watchful amber eyes, Caleb waited while the horses thundered closer. When he saw that Wolfe’s rifle was still in its scabbard, Caleb let out a silent breath of relief and gave Jessica a reassuring smile. Jessica didn’t notice. She sat on Two-Spot and waited, knowing her horse had no chance to outrun the Arabian stallion.
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