Once a Maverick

by Raine Cantrell

  “I brought you a present.”

  “A present?”

  “Did you get water in your ears, Dixie, that you need to repeat—”

  “No. And stop trying what little patience I have left.”

  He smiled to see her sneak a look around without letting on that she was curious. “Angel, you’re looking for something small. The present I brought you is quite large, although I guess I did a good job of hiding it. Try looking behind you, a little to the left.”

  Dixie turned and saw her mare, and with her was a glossy-coated roan that she assumed Ty had ridden. The swish of a longer, black tail called attention to the rump of the third horse. Kicking the trailing edge of the blanket out of her way, Dixie moved closer to the animals.

  “Kah?” She couldn’t believe it was her own mare, the one that had been left behind at the saloon then ridden so cruelly by Thorne. The welcome nicker as Dixie rubbed the white blaze marking on her head made her realize what Ty had done.

  She knew he stood behind her and, without turning, she said, “I never thought I’d see her again.” Dixie leaned her cheek against the horse’s sleek arched neck. “Her name is Apache for arrow. My father—” Her voice broke. She pressed harder against the mare’s neck. Ty’s hands were warm and comforting on her shoulders. His voice and words more so.

  “If you wanted to cry, I wouldn’t think you weak, Dixie. I’ve already told you that I admire your courage. I wish I could—”

  With a sob she turned and pressed herself against him. “I don’t want to cry. I don’t want every memory of him to bring me pain. Can you understand why it’s important to me that his killer doesn’t go free? He was a good man, Ty. He shouldn’t have been killed because someone wanted his land. He shouldn’t have died when I needed him.”

  Her grief-laden voice tore into him. He rocked her within his arms, wishing he could make her world right again, vowing in the next breath that he would.

  “Honey, listen to me,” he whispered, smoothing the damp, tangled hair back from her face. “I’ve seen men bigger and stronger than you push themselves past the last of their endurance. You’ve reached that point and more.”

  She lifted her head, her eyes filled with the shine of tears that she refused to shed. Ty wanted her so badly that he shook with need. But he found that he could put aside his own need to care for her.

  “I want you to promise me that you’ll rest here tonight. No, Dixie, let me finish,” he demanded when she tried to speak.

  “They’re camped about four miles down the wash, still trying to figure out how I switched horses without them waking up. I overheard enough to tell you that the kid’s having second thoughts about staying with them. It doesn’t matter if he does. I still want all three of their hides.

  “If that’s not enough, I can tell you that thunderheads are piling up and if we get a storm, they won’t be riding out anytime soon. Now, will you promise me?”

  Whatever Ty thought he expected, it wasn’t to have her nod, then slip from his arms. “Dixie?” He waited until she turned. “It will be all right.” Then, in a cold, hard voice he promised, “I’ll make sure of it.”

  She gazed at his face for long moments. “You were right about my going past the point, Ty. I can’t keep on fighting you.”

  Dixie moved to sit in the sun, and Ty scooped up her clothes and spread them over the low-hanging branches. He winced with every stretch of his arm, for his wound was yet open. The defeat in Dixie’s voice bothered him. He’d rather have that hot pepper tongue firing spirited comments at him.

  She had her eyes closed, head tilted back toward the sun. Ty knew he couldn’t push her now, but he couldn’t seem to keep away from her, either.

  Dixie heard him moving around but thought it safer to remain as she was, quiet, with her eyes closed so she wouldn’t be tempted to watch him. She couldn’t tell Ty about the fear he raised in her each time she was near him. She wasn’t at all certain that he would understand how vulnerable he made her feel with the tantalizing thought of being a woman with dreams again. The one thing she was sure of was that she wasn’t about to risk telling him. That would require an act of trust on the deepest level for her.

  Trust, like control, was not easy for her to give to anyone now.

  “Dixie?” Ty whispered, coming to kneel behind her.

  She merely murmured in answer, for the warmth of the sun and perhaps his presence made tension leave her and she was growing drowsy. But she opened her eyes quickly enough when she felt his hand on her head, drawing her hairbrush through her damp hair.

  “No, don’t move. I’ve wanted to do this, Dixie. Let me. Just for a little while, let me take care of you.”

  She thought of his telling her about that night he had watched her by her camp fire brushing her hair, and the tempting pictures she had made. Ty had a light hand with the brush and it made her feel good.

  She couldn’t remember the last time anyone…no, she refused to allow thoughts of the past to intrude now. There was peace to be had from this place, with Ty, and she wanted it, needed it so badly that she offered no protest.

  “Your hair’s the dark of a mink’s winter pelt shot with all the tawny shades of a cougar’s coat. And just as silky soft to touch,” he whispered, then smiled as she leaned her head to one side. Ty couldn’t resist pressing a light kiss to the arch of her bare neck, quickly retreating before she could deny him.

  Her smooth skin gleamed with warmth in the sunlight. Above the edge of the blanket her breasts swelled temptingly, tiny drops of water beaded like diamonds in the shadowed cleavage. His hand stilled. Her cold-hardened nipples were clearly defined by the soft drape of the blanket. He wished it had been the heat and moisture of his mouth that had made her nipples hard. A slight tremor that he couldn’t control shook him.

  “Ty? What’s wrong? I know my hair’s a terrible tangle after I wash it.”

  “Nothing.” He resumed brushing her hair, trying to be satisfied with her sleepy, contented murmur.

  Dixie was thankful that her voice had not betrayed her. It was becoming difficult to stifle the sounds of pleasure that she longed to free. His hands were gentle, and she felt as if he touched her as if she were something fragile and precious, to be cherished—not hurt or broken.

  Since Ty made no move to increase the intimacy between them beyond that light, fleeting kiss on her neck, Dixie let the last of the tension she felt go. She knew that he wanted her. There was no way he could disguise the blunt ridge of his flesh rising within his denims. But she was also aware that Ty wouldn’t push her, demanding something she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to give.

  Ty rubbed her scalp, absorbing the warmth with his fingertips. He thought about feeling the long, silky strands of her hair covering his body and felt the new heaviness of his blood. His hands stilled.

  She opened her eyes, blinking against the brightness of the sunlight, and closed them again. “You don’t have to finish, Ty. It’s a chore, but this is the one vanity I’ve allowed myself.”

  “Don’t ever cut it, Dixie. And it’s not a chore. I’d guess I’m getting as much pleasure out of this as you are.” Seeing the corners of her mouth lift upward, he bent to kiss her head. Her dark lashes formed delicate shadows over her cheeks, and he wanted to place kisses there, too, but he resumed brushing her hair until it lay like a polished mantle over her back and shoulders.

  “I take back what I just said. There’s no guessing to it at all. Touching you is a pleasure all its own.”

  He dropped the brush and stroked her hair with his hands. “A crowning glory,” he whispered, feeling deep inside him the way the silken strands of her hair clung to his fingers in a soft caress.

  In an unexpected move, Dixie reached back and caught hold of one of his hands. She drew it forward with her fingers curled within his and pressed a kiss on his palm.

  “Thank you, Ty.”

  “The pleasure, as I said, is all mine.”

  Dixie felt the heat of the sun disap
pear from her face. Her eyes drifted open to find Ty leaning over her. Dark and dangerous, he appeared both a dark angel and a tempting devil with his intense gaze studying her. A powerful yearning swept through her.

  He disengaged his hand from hers and raised it to her cheek. Gently rubbing his knuckles from her cheekbone to her chin, he eased her head back until his breath blended with hers.

  “You know you’re safe with me, Dixie. As safe as you want to be.”

  His words, like his touch, were another kind of caress to her. And another break in her defenses. She had to close her eyes against the intensity of need that rose within her to feel his lips upon hers.

  Hunger. She had not known its like. Thoughts of revenge slipped from her thoughts. That shocked her. The desire she had for Ty ripped aside every layer of control she had used to protect herself these last months.

  Her whole body tensed with pleasurable anticipation of feeling the fire burn again. Ty had only to kiss her to make it happen.

  She felt the press of his teeth on her earlobe, sending a sharp burst of wild sensations through her. Instantly he soothed it with his tongue, then the warmth of his mouth. She forgot to breathe as he traced the tiny indentations that shaped her ear. And she discovered that kisses came in many forms, but from Ty they all made fire burn.

  “Stop running from me, Dixie. There’s enough hunter in all of us so that when you run, I chase. One of us is going to get caught. But I’m not taking any bets on who.”

  The thought of having Dixie made his body flood with heat. The telltale catch in her breathing, the slight tremor of her body told him he could press the matter now. He stole a quick, light kiss from her lips.

  The sun’s heat warmed her face and Dixie knew that he had moved away before she opened her eyes.

  “Ty?”

  “Right now that water looks mighty appealing.” He stripped off his shirt, blinded for a moment while he pulled it over his head. When he turned, still clutching the bunched-up shirt in one hand, Dixie was gone. And so, he noted with a hard, scanning gaze, were her clothes.

  “You running again? I warned—”

  “No, Kincaid. I’m not running. I’d just feel…better dressed.”

  He didn’t miss her slight hesitation and mentally supplied safer for better. He was a fine one to warn her about running. He was doing a little of it himself right now. He hadn’t thought about moving off, just did it to prove to himself that he could. But his body was not complying with his mind’s dictate. He wanted her and the thought of having her spiked the heat of his blood higher.

  “Be foolish to get dressed now. Your clothes are still damp,” he pointed out, turning toward the water to give her some privacy beneath the tree.

  “I’ve worn them wet before. Stop worrying about me, Ty.”

  “Can’t help it.”

  Dixie heard the light splash of water and peered between the leafy branches at Ty. Sunlight washed over the lean, hard muscles of his back. Only the white strip of linen from the bandage that Livia had wrapped around his wound marred his deeply tanned skin. His hand was rubbing the back of his neck as though to relieve muscles tightened by fatigue. Or was it desire? The same desire that had made her run and hide time and again.

  Her hand stilled, clutching the edges of her shirt together. She told herself that she couldn’t trust him entirely, yet she had accepted his word about where Thorne was. She had accepted his prediction about the possibility of a storm that would keep her father’s killer from getting away.

  And she stood watching him rubbing sand from the streambed’s bottom, envying its touch on his body. Even under the sheltering branches, she felt hot. Sweat slicked her skin and she thought longingly of the cold water that glistened on Ty’s skin.

  He leaned over, struggling to keep his footing and not get his bandage wet while he scooped up water over his hair. He shook his head, spraying water every which way, then turned around.

  “I wouldn’t mind company, Dixie.”

  His soft, husky invitation sent a flush stealing through her body. He had known she was watching him, and in an effort to be open with him, Dixie stepped out from the sheltering tree.

  Tiny water diamonds were caught in the wedge of dark hair that delineated the center of his chest. As if her thought was his, Ty raised one hand and rubbed the very spot she stared at. She could see the pink flesh of a scar that began on his right hip and disappeared lower where the water lapped him.

  Even the breeze was sultry and heavy with the promise of a storm. But Dixie was battling a storm of her own emotions.

  She wanted Ty, but giving herself to him meant giving her trust, too. He claimed he wanted no complications, and she longed for more. If she had learned nothing else in the almost two years she had tracked Thorne, Dixie knew that what she wanted and what she could have were never the same.

  “Dixie, I’m coming out.”

  She came to, aware that he warned her, and she found herself taking her damp, discarded blanket to the edge of the water.

  “Then you’ll need this,” she said, holding the blanket out to him.

  His eyes darkened until the blue almost disappeared. She followed his gaze to where her shirt gaped open. For long moments she stared at the clean, powerful lines of his body.

  Abruptly she dropped the blanket and walked back to the fire.

  Ty didn’t say a word. He came out of the water, scrubbed the blanket over himself to get barely dry, then slipped into his denims. He blamed himself for making her retreat once more. But even as he regained control he knew that it was for the best.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m running away again, Ty,” Dixie began, struggling to fasten her shirt.

  “You want to leave.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “I think it best that I do. You told me you didn’t want any complications. Neither do I. Maybe when it’s over there’ll be time.”

  “Just tell me one thing, Dixie. Do you believe me about where Thorne and the others are?”

  “I—”

  “A yes or no’ll do. Tell me if you trust me to tell you the truth. ’Cause if you can’t, then ride the hell out of here.”

  She hated the way he forced her to make choices she wasn’t ready to make. But there was no arguing with the low, deadly tone of his voice. She was tempted to turn around and look at him, but she resisted.

  “I believe you.” The words were a mere thread of sound, but she knew he heard them. Knew it and wondered what she had committed herself to.

  “Then stay with me,” Ty whispered.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eyes closed, Dixie threw her head back as if she were seeking guidance. “Don’t do this to me,” she pleaded. “You frighten me with the need you make me feel for you.”

  Stripped of all pretense, her voice cut into him. But then, he reminded himself, Dixie had never used any women’s wiles on him. Her honesty demanded the same from him. And Ty discovered that there was no shame in admitting his feelings to her.

  “You think it doesn’t scare the hell out of me? I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. Don’t ask me for answers. Seven questions and six ways to Sunday I couldn’t give them to you.”

  A distant peal of thunder drowned out her reply. Ty glanced at the mountaintops. “Storm’s coming. Just like I said it would. But there’s a bigger one brewing right down here where we’re standing, Angel. Your move.”

  First he forced her to make a choice, now he flung a challenge at her.

  “What do you want from me, Ty?”

  The touch of his hand on her shoulder didn’t surprise her. She knew how soundlessly he could move. She felt the heat, and the strength of his long fingers shaping the curve of her shoulder. Like lightning, the touch became a lover’s caress.

  “Tell me what it is you want me to say, Ty.”

  And he leaned close to whisper, “That you’re not afraid of me. That you know I wouldn’t hurt you. Tell me you believe I don’t want to
just take from you but share pleasure that two people who want each other can have.”

  She lowered her head and leaned back against him. “Is that all?”

  “It’ll do for a start.” He slipped both arms around her and held her close. “Dixie, I know you’ve had a rough time of it. I haven’t asked you to tell me everything that happened to you, and I won’t. You’ve a right to share what you will about your past and respect my right for the same.

  “I want you. I want you to say the same and mean it. No recriminations later that I took advantage of—”

  “There’s something you should know, Ty. I’ve never been with a man.” She couldn’t resist twisting around in his arms to see his expression. When her gaze locked with his, she saw the surprise he couldn’t hide fast enough. She didn’t like the way his nearness clouded her senses. He made her feel out of control again.

  “Have I shocked you?” she asked, tilting her face up.

  “No,” he answered with a quick, rough shake of his head.

  The tension in his body became hers. “How’s a little honesty, Ty? You’re lying to me. I can feel it. You never expected that?” No matter how she had willed her voice to be steady, she heard for herself the betraying tremor that gave away how much it hurt. She knew how she had changed. She just never thought it mattered what he thought of her.

  His hand tangled in her hair as if he sensed she would bolt and run from him. “You’ve got me so confused, Angel, I can’t tell if I should be baying at the moon or getting down on my knees and begging.”

  “You’re not a man to do either one, Ty.”

  There was that honesty again. He had no weapon against it but more of his own. “I never have been. But it doesn’t matter. You do. Say the word, Dixie, and I’ll leave you alone. Tell me no.”

  “Ty, I wish I could. I wish I even wanted to. But I can’t lie to you.”

  “I’m not making any promises.” He wanted to recall the words the moment he spoke them. Her eyes clouded and for long seconds she looked away, before she directed a steady, level gaze at him that still held too many secrets for his peace of mind.