Desert Fire

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  Jackson said nothing and simply reached behind them and produced his pocketknife. He held the blade in the flames of the fire for several seconds. Then he released Malaina, sat up and drove the hot knife into the wound. The look of pain on his face was too much for her. Malaina was unconscious.

  5

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Malaina’s eyes felt dry as she forced them open. She could still hear the wind whipping about outside the cave. How long had she been asleep? She gradually became aware that her hand and one arm were lying on Jackson’s chest, which rose and fell in slow rhythm as he slept. He was lying on his back and her upper body was flush with his. She felt one of his hands resting on her back and she could see the other holding hers where it lay on his massive chest. She was no longer shaking but she felt oddly warm and still dizzy.

  Slowly, she raised her head and when Jackson’s hand slid from her back, he didn’t even stir. She slipped her hand from beneath his and sat up. The fire was burning out so she got up, went to the wood pile and selected wood to stoke the fire with. She could tell it was very cold in the cave, but she felt almost hot, so assumed that she was with fever still.

  After she had built up the fire and refreshed her dry mouth with some melted snow that stood in a bucket near them, Malaina sat down next to her sleeping champion. Jackson’s breathing was still slow and rhythmic. He stirred slightly and afterward his hands rested on his stomach.

  As Malaina studied his rough, calloused hands her attention was drawn to the new wound. It looked horrifying! Dried blood caked the area, and the black from the heated knife caused her to shiver. There had been no doctor to stitch it neatly closed and she knew it would leave a rough scar. She noticed, too, the other scar just above this one. The one he had received at yet another attempt at saving her.

  She brought her hands up to cover her face as the tears of guilt and thankfulness erupted. Malaina cried quietly for several moments, looking at the damage she’d caused to his magnificent form.

  “All you lack is the white horse. Every little girl dreams of a knight coming to her rescue, you know,” she whispered as she sobbed quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

  He looked so sweet. Like a little boy, she thought. His hair was tousled and he slept so soundly. She wiped her tears and stood up again, taking a deep breath. “I must look a mess!” she whispered, trying to change her train of thought. She picked up the top of the long johns that Jackson had mutilated and dipped a sleeve into the bucket of water. She bathed her face and then turned her attention to her shoulder. While lying with him, the blood from Jackson’s wound had stained her own shoulder. She slipped the red flannel off of her shoulder and removed her arm holding the garment at her chest. She wiped away the blood that had soaked through the cloth and onto her own skin. The thought of again being covered in the blood of the man she was in love with caused the tears to reappear.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “For what?” The sound of his voice so unexpectedly startled her and she spun around so quickly that she nearly lost the grip on her underwear. He stood before her, clutching his own garment at the waist. These underwear had no drawstring rigged up by his mother to secure them.

  There he stood...only half dressed, looking just like the magnificent lover that he’d teased her about.

  “I’m sorry for nearly getting you killed yet again,” she said, looking down at her exposed shoulder and rubbing it harder with the wet cloth.

  “I figure...you’ll be the death of me yet, girl,” he said. But no smile crossed his face.

  All the guilt she felt for his injuries exploded. She threw the wet cloth at him and burst into tears. “You are so cruel!” she screamed in a tear-choked whisper. She tried to move past him but he caught her arm.

  “Lay back down,” he ordered. “You’re still very flushed and hot.”

  “I’m fine,” she growled, but the painful chills were returning.

  “I said...lay down, Malaina,” he commanded through gritted teeth.

  “I just want to walk around for a...” but the dizziness hit her and she stumbled. Reflexively she reached out for him to steady herself. He caught her with one arm and pulled her against him. She let go her grip on her garment and fell against him, weakened. Subsequently the other side of her garment slipped down and both of her shoulders were exposed.

  “I think I had better lay down,” she mumbled. She felt him lay her gently down on the bearskin again and she drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

  

  When Malaina woke next, she was again lying on Jackson’s torso as he slept. She raised herself and sat looking at him. The hand that had been clutching his underwear had relaxed and she hoped silently that he wouldn’t move, otherwise she would be embarrassed to utter death.

  She studied his wound for a moment and it looked like he had escaped infection. “Oh! It is so hot in here!” she whispered to herself, slipping her other arm out of the long johns and tying the sleeves across her chest in order that the garment should not slip off. With shoulders and arms exposed, she lay back down and tried to rest. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and frowned. Sitting up again she muttered quietly, “It is so hot!”

  “Well, don’t slip anymore of them longies off...it’s too hard on a man,” Jackson mumbled.

  Malaina looked questioningly at him. His eyes were closed. She was sure. She bent close to his face and whispered, “Are you awake?”

  He smiled. “Of course I’m awake.”

  “Well, it’s very hot in here,” she stated irritatedly.

  “You’re tellin’ me,” he mumbled.

  “What?” she asked, but he only grinned with his eyes still closed.

  Malaina rolled her head back and forth trying to sooth her aching neck. “I hope somebody finds us soon,” she said to him. Jackson’s grin broadened.

  “On second thought,” Malaina corrected herself, “if anybody found us they’d think...” Malaina’s eyes widened and Jackson chuckled. “Jackson! Oh, no! What will folks think?” He opened his eyes to look at her and the look on her face caused him to break into laughter. “It’s not funny! This is completely sinful!” she cried.

  He erupted into more laughter. “Darlin’...this is survival. We ain’t done nothin’. Folks ‘round here know that. I guarantee you nobody, but nobody’s out lookin’ for us in this storm.” He lay down again and continued to laugh.

  She couldn’t help but smile at her own comments. “You’re right. People out here are different. They don’t just assume the worst.”

  Jackson sighed as his laughter subsided. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Better,” she said, reaching back and rubbing her neck. “Just stiff from lying on the ground. How’s your shoulder?”

  “It don’t hurt much. Baker got arrowed once right in the hiney,” he chuckled. “Poor boy couldn’t sit down for a month. Mama had a crazy fit, of course. We just won’t tell her about this. I bet she’s worried sick about you,” he said frowning.

  “She won’t worry. She knows I’m with you,” Malaina said confidently.

  He chuckled again. “That won’t give her no comfort necessarily.” He winked at her and she blushed. Then a frown crossed his brow again. “She might not even know you’re with me. Don’t know as anyone saw me get you back there.” Jackson began searching the cave. “I need somethin’ to hold up these britches.”

  Malaina stood and went to her drying clothes. “I have a pin in my petticoat that might work.” She fumbled around and found it. “Stand up,” she said and he did. He hiked up the long johns and held his hand out for the pin. “No, no, no. You hold them like that and...I’ll...just...there. See! Now you don’t have to worry about...” Her voice gave out as she felt his eyes boring into the top of her head. She slowly looked up at him.

  Jackson’s jaw was visibly clenched and his chest rose and fell heavily. “I think you better go back to sleep,” he mumbled. Malaina noticed how his eyes left her fac
e for a moment and traveled the length of her body and back again.

  She giggled nervously. “I must look a sight! Red men’s underwear, trap door and all. Look at my hair! All unpinned and wild.” She dared to look up at him again.

  “You ain’t helpin’ me out any, Malaina.” She cleared her throat and looked away.

  “And look at you! Half dressed...as usual...wounded...pants half falling off.” She looked up to find his eyes still burning into hers.

  “Go back to sleep, Malaina. Please,” he mumbled not moving. Malaina studied Jackson’s flawlessly chiseled torso, square clenched jaw, soft tense lips and boyishly tousled hair.

  “I don’t want to,” she whispered as she took a step toward him.

  He closed his eyes tightly and frowning shook his head. “Please, sugar. Go over there and go back to sleep for a while.”

  It must be the fever, for Malaina knew that had she been in her right mind, she would never have taken another step. But she did. She stood so close to him that she could feel the heat from his body.

  She gazed up into his brutally handsome face and said, “Bet you a nickel that I can kiss you without touching you, Jackson McCall.”

  He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Really?” Malaina smiled and nodded. “All right then. I ain’t known as a bettin’ man...but I’ll call your bluff.”

  She reached up, taking his whiskery face in her hands and pulled it toward her own. “Do you have a nickel?” she whispered smiling.

  “I’m good for it,” he said.

  Then she touched his lips very softly with hers and the thrill of it caused her to tremble. Malaina stepped back to look at him. He looked just the slightest bit dizzy. She reached into the pocket of her long johns and pulled out the nickel that she’d discovered earlier.

  “I guess I should stay away from gambling,” she whispered flipping the nickel into the air.

  Jackson caught the coin and dropped it in his own pocket. Then he slowly took her into his arms and kissed her forehead.

  “Don’t go playin’ with fire, Miss Malaina. It’s mighty unpredictable,” he whispered and she thought he would push her away.

  But moments later Jackson had made his decision and Malaina felt his coveted kiss on her forehead. Jackson bent and kissed one of her shoulders. Malaina couldn’t halt the excitement that flooded her being. When his lips next found her neck, she tightened her grip on his arms, solid as granite. Jackson caressed her neck several times with his kisses and then, as his mouth savored hers, Malaina let her arms slide around his waist, pulling herself tighter to him. His kisses were deep and filled with desire and passion and she returned them with equally as much emotion. She caressed his back, reveling in the feel of the muscles hardening as he worked to hold her tighter. She ran her fingers through his hair, felt his unshaven face, gasped once when he nearly crushed her ribs with his strong hands.

  Time was lost to them, until he finally tore his lips from hers and held her to him. His breathing steadied a little. Then he suddenly put her away from him and walked to where their clothes lay by the fire.

  “We gotta get home, Malaina,” he mumbled. She watched as he angrily pulled on his pants.

  Malaina stood stunned and then embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said as she reached for her clothing. “What you must think of me.” She felt hot tears forming in her eyes.

  Jackson grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. “What I think is that you are the only thing in my entire life that I have trouble resistin’! I don’t go drinkin’...no gamblin’...no womanizin’...then I find you out in the middle of nowhere and all my self-control goes right out the window. And if I don’t get you home, Malaina...I’m gonna end up havin’ to make an honest woman of you when I do.” Her mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Now...get your clothes on. I’m pretty sure that the storm is over.”

  5

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jackson and Malaina entered the ranch house kitchen together, finding Mary and Maggie seated at the table, sobbing. Both women looked up with astounded expressions as the tattered couple approached.

  “Hi, Mama,” Jackson said matter-of-factly as he reached for an apple that sat with several others in a basket on the table.

  Malaina didn’t utter a word, but flung herself into the parlor and in front of the warm fire. It had been a mere mile, and half another, home. But walking through two feet of snow with no extra clothing for warmth had put her back to the brink of freezing.

  Maggie slowly stood, still staring at her son as he followed Malaina to the fire. “Hi, Mama?” she screeched. “Hi, Mama?”

  Mary knelt beside Malaina, brushed the tangled hair from her face, studying her features with unspoken awe.

  Maggie continued in an emotional voice, “We have been worried near to death, Jackson McCall! The entire town is out searching for you! And for Black Wolf!”

  “Oh? Well, they can stop lookin’ for him. I killed that dirty son of...I put him out of his misery. And me and Malaina weathered the storm just fine and are home safe and sound,” Jackson said as if he’d been out milking the cow all night and day.

  Malaina saw the fury rising in Maggie’s face.

  “Oh. Fine. You killed him,” Maggie cried, shaking her head. “We thought you were dead!” Her voice returned to the frightened state as before. “And you waltz in here with a ‘Hi, Mama’ and grab an apple like you’ve been out sparkin’ after the dance.”

  Jackson stood and gathered his mother into his arms as she began sobbing. “I’m sorry, Mama. But we really are fine and now we don’t have to worry about Black Wolf anymore. We’re nearly frozen to the bone, though...and too awful tired to have any emotions left in us. You get Malaina warmed up now and I’ll go find the search party and tell ‘em we’re home.”

  Malaina watched as the grief stricken mother clung to her baby. “I’ll go tell Matthew, Jackson. He’s home. He can ride out after them,” Mary said, throwing on her coat and heading out the door.

  Maggie held her son’s face in her hands and smiled up at him through her tears. “You boys scare the life out of me!” Then she looked over at Malaina. Her mouth dropped open as she drew in a horrified breath and moved to her side. The tears began to flow again as she hugged her over and over and wiped her face with her well-worn apron.

  “Oh, my baby girl!” she soothed.

  “I’m sorry for all the trouble, Mrs. McCall,” Malaina forced out in a whisper before bursting into tears of her own and throwing herself into the woman’s welcome embrace. Malaina sobbed hard as the older woman consoled her with hushes and kisses on her head, rocking her where they sat on the floor. “I’ve brought so much trouble on all of you,” she cried. “I’m so deeply ashamed of it.”

  Maggie pushed her back and cupped Malaina’s chin firmly in hand, forcing the young woman to look at her. “That is enough, young lady!” she said. “I won’t be havin’ that kind of talk ‘cause it just isn’t so. Do you hear me? We wouldn’t have life without you now...no we wouldn’t. You’re our own! Our very own. Do you understand me?”

  Malaina nodded only to please the lovely woman. Maggie pulled Malaina to her again. “Now, let’s get a tub filled for the two of you, and get somethin’ warm down.”

  Jackson chuckled from his resting place on the sofa. “I think it would be wise to run us each a separate tub, Mama.” He grinned and winked at the two women.

  Maggie let out a sigh of exasperation. “Well, at least I know now that he’s truly unharmed.”

  Maggie left the room to prepare baths and Malaina stood in front of the fire for several more moments until her teeth quit chattering. At long last she turned to see Jackson asleep on the sofa.

  “Jackson?” she whispered. “Jackson? Are you asleep?” No answer and steady breathing indicated that he was. She crept slowly over until she stood looking down at him. He didn’t move.

  Malaina knelt and put a hand softly on his knee. “Jackson?” she said again. “Thank you,” she whispered as tears
brimmed in her eyes once more. “Thank you...for my life...again.”

  As she stood and turned away Jackson’s hand caught her own, startling her. She turned to look at him and watched as he slowly stood up. It was apparent that every muscle and bone in his body pained him. He smiled down at her and she smiled back as she surveyed the tousled hair and dirt smeared face. He looked so boyish.

  “I’ll tell you what, Little Miss Red Flannel Underwear...” She couldn’t stop the blush. He held up one hand and bent one finger at a time down as he spoke. “Let’s see, finding you in the desert, pullin’ a scorpion outta your drawers, gettin’ shot by some varmint who wanted to drag you off from town, killin’ an Indian who wanted you...took an arrow by-the-way...and keepin’ you from freezin’ to death durin’ a blizzard.” Her spirits began to fall again, but he went on. “I count at least five times that I’ve saved your dainty little hide. Tell you what...” He looked around sneakily and lowered his voice to a whisper. “You give me one more kiss like you did last night in that cave...and we’ll call it even.” He grinned down at her surprised face for a moment. Then his smile faded and his brow puckered in a frown. “I won’t ever ask again. And life has to return to just the everyday like before, you hear me?” It was a command and she felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. “It was all too romantic last night...stuck in the cold with a dusty ol’ rancher. I know you weren’t in your right mind and I wasn’t neither.” Malaina’s eyebrows lifted at his use of the word ‘romantic.’ “But, I am a man, after all...and you look mighty cute in red flannels. So, I want a proper ‘Thank you, Mr. McCall.’“ He grinned at her again, but she felt like running.

  In other words, it would have made no difference if the ugliest woman in the world had been in that cave with him. It offended and hurt her. She thought they had shared a loving passion for only each other for a few blissful hours. Now, she knew differently.