Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03]

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Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] Page 12

by Wind of Promise


  Primer Tass’ feet began to move and he was out of the willows and standing not six feet behind her when she turned. He had not meant to reveal himself. He wasn’t ready to make his move, but his need for her to know that he was there and that she was his woman overrode his judgment.

  Vanessa froze with terror. It was as if the man in black had sprung from a nightmare. He had the same dark face and flat expressionless eyes as when she’d last seen him. Her frightened mind registered the fact that he was not a big man, he was not much taller than she. That he moved quietly and quickly was evidence since she had heard nothing. What a fool she was for coming down here without a weapon to defend herself. He stood looking at her with those dull, black eyes. She wanted to run, but she’d have to turn her back on him, and she’d be damned if she’d give him a chance to pounce on her.

  “Ya waitin’ fer me?” His voice was as oily as she remembered, oily and smooth.

  “Waiting for you? I don’t know you. I want nothing to do with you. Get away from me.”

  “Ya got the purtiest titties I ever did see.”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened only to snap shut again. Then her fright turned to anger and blossomed into an outburst.

  “How dare you spy on me! You nasty, vile, stinking piece of horsedung!”

  “Ain’t nobody got more right ta look at yore titties ’n me. I done told ya I took ya fer my woman.”

  “I’m not your woman! Get that through your thick skull right now. And get the hell away from me.”

  His laugh was guttural, and his eyes took on a feverish glow. “Spunky, ain’t ya? I like that.”

  “Come near me again and I’ll blow your stupid head off.”

  “I’d not be much good to ya dead.” With his eyes on her face he ran his hand down over his lower stomach and outlined the elongated hardness that was causing his buckskins to protrude. Without wanting to, her eyes followed his hand, and her face flamed. He laughed again. This time it was a throaty, pleased chuckle. “Jist alookin’ at ya gets me all het up ’n ready fer ya.” The black eyes fastened to her face were like two bottomless, evil pits.

  Vanessa was speechless with horror and outrage. She longed to smash his hateful face, but more than that she longed to turn and run.

  “Ain’t ya got nothin’ to say ’bout it, purty woman?”

  “I’ve got plenty to say and I mean every word of it. Come near me again and I’ll blow a hole in you big enough to drive a wagon through! Now go and leave me alone. If Kain knew you were here he’d kill you right now!”

  “Are ya aworryin’ ’bout me?” He stood with his thumbs hooked in the strap of his gun belt. “I jist wanted to make sure ya knowed I laid my claim on ya that first day. The fat Dutchman ’n the kid thought they’d get a go at ya, but I’d a killed ’em first.”

  “You’ve no claim on me, you stupid, ignorant lout! I could horsewhip you for even thinking it. I wouldn’t have anything to do with you if you were the last man on earth. You’re everything I despise in a man.”

  “That’s the kind a talk I like from my woman. We’ll hitch good . . . when the time comes. Ya’ll be wantin’ it same as me when I get ya off in the mountains ’n show ya how tis. I’m aimin’ fer us to have us a mighty fine old time out there all by our lonesome. Ya can do all the hollerin’ ’n scratchin’ ’n fightin’ ya want. It’ll jist make it better.”

  He leaped toward her. He moved so fast she was caught off guard. She turned to run, but managed only a few steps when his hand tangled in her hair and jerked her back against him. Before she could scream his hand clamped over her mouth, and he dragged her into the thick willows. A fresh flush of fear raced through her body.

  “Ya’ll keep quiet now, cause I could squeeze the life outta ya afore ya knowed it. I don’t want to, but I will afore I let ya brin’ the gringos down on me.” His hand moved from her mouth to her throat and his fingers tightened.

  “I won’t . . . I won’t scream. Kain will kill you if he catches you here,” she managed to say.

  “The gringo ain’t your man. If’n he was he’d be fuckin ya ever’ night, like I’d be adoin’. I been watchin’. But it don’t matter none. I’m goin’ to kill him,” he muttered against her ear. The hand on her rib cage moved up to her breast. His fingers closed over her soft flesh and he rasped, “I love titties. I like to bite ’em, lick ’em, nuss ’em.” His thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple. “It ain’t big. It ain’t been nussed, has it?”

  Pain and terror knifed through her. Unmindful of his threats she began to struggle. His fingers moved up to her jaw and he jerked her head around. He attacked her mouth with brutal, wet kisses, and all the while his arm held her back against his chest. Finally he lifted his head. She felt faint and sagged against his arm. Her stomach rolled and bile rose in her throat.

  “Ya like that, do ya? It ain’t nothin’ to what it’ll be. I can show ya thin’s that’ll make ya so hot fer me ya’ll chase me all o’er them mountains a tryin’ to get me.”

  Her eyes blazed. She would have spit in his face if not for the fingers that clamped her chin and dug into her cheeks.

  “Wait fer me. When I get thin’s fixed, I’ll be back fer ya.” His arm fell way, but his fingers on her cheeks tightened. A long, thin knife appeared in his hand and she made a frightened sound and tried to jerk away. “Jist hold still. I ain’t agoin’ to hurt ya none if’n yore quiet. I jist got to have this. I jist got to.” He grabbed a handful of hair at the top of her head and the knife began sawing through it.

  “No!” The protest came from her choked throat.

  The pull on her scalp was so painful it brought tears to her eyes. Finally the pressure stopped and he held out a two-foot length of gleaming copper hair. He smoothed it and carefully wrapped it around his hand. He was smiling. Vanessa’s hand went to the top of her head. Not over an inch of hair covered a large patch on her crown. Her mouth formed a soundless cry of rage.

  “I ain’t never seen white skin like yores or hair like this here. I’ll be akeepin’ ya jist fer me ’n not let nobody else have ya—if’n ya behave yourself.”

  “Vanessa!” Ellie’s voice came from beyond the willows. “Are you down here? Vanessa!”

  The tip of the knife sliced the top button from her shirt, then was suddenly beneath Vanessa’s chin and held her silent. “I’m goin’ to have me this, too. Ya listen up good. Tell the gringo Primer Tass was here. Tell ’em I’ll be waitin’ up the trail ’n I’ll drop him from any hill or clump a tree he passes. Then it’ll be jist you ’n me.”

  “You’d shoot a man in the back?”

  “Shore. What’s him to me?” He laughed openly at her. “I killed men I knowed better ’n him. Ain’t no man standin’ atween me ’n a woman I want.”

  “You’re an animal!” Vanessa croaked. “I’ll never go with you. If you force me I’ll put a knife in you the first chance I get!”

  To her amazement he laughed. “I warn’t mistook ’bout ya. Ya’ll come when the times right, ’n ya’ll fight ever step of the way, won’t ya, Vanessa? That’s yore name, ain’t it? Vanessa.”

  He said her name again as though trying to taste it. “Now mind I’ll be watchin’ ya, same as I been doin’. Ya can tell these folk I been here, it don’t matter none. I’ll jist be up ahead, ’n pick that bastard off with a shot in the head. Ain’t no way he can be ready fer me,” he concluded blandly. He watched her the way a snake watched a small frog or an insect, his black eyes still and staring. “I got to be aleavin’ ya, but I want me a little kiss first.”

  “Vanessa?” Ellie’s voice sounded anxious.

  As soon as his mouth was near enough, Vanessa sank her teeth in his lip with all her strength. He grabbed her hair and twisted until she let go. Blood ran from his lip and down his chin, yet he smiled.

  “Does hurtin’ make ya hotter? I knowed women like that.” His voice was a mere purr of a sound.

  He jerked on her hair so hard that tears sprang to her eyes and she stumbled back, f
alling against a tree trunk. When she turned to look, he was gone.

  “Vanessa!”

  “I’m here, Aunt Ellie.” She got quickly to her feet and pulled up the tail of her shirt, wiped her eyes and scrubbed her mouth, then straightened her clothes and pushed the hair back from her face. Her stomach churned as if she was about to be sick. She felt herself go ice cold. The next second she was burning hot. She was trembling from head to foot, but she made an effort to keep her voice steady. “I’m in the bushes. I’ll be there in a minute.” She took deep breaths to calm herself, then walked out from behind the willows, adjusting the belt that held up her britches.

  “It scared me for a minute when you weren’t here,” Ellie said with a little laugh.

  “There are times when a body’s got to go to the bushes.” Vanessa kept her face turned away. A gust of wind from the river whipped her hair. “It’s getting cold. I’ll finish washing in the wagon.” She leaned over, away from her aunt, whirled her hair into a loose roll and pinned it to the top of her head.

  “I thought you’d have your hair washed by now and I’d pour water over it to rinse out the soap.”

  “I decided to not wash it today. It would take a long time for it to dry.” It was a lame excuse, but the only one Vanessa could think of. “Let’s go back to the wagons, Aunt Ellie. This place gives me the creeps.”

  “Is something wrong? Why, heavens! You’re nervous and jumpy.”

  “I—I thought I heard someone back there sneaking around.” She picked up the bucket and dumped the water on the coals. “I shouldn’t have come down here without the gun.” She started back through the trees and Ellie followed.

  “Could it be Indians?” Ellie looked back over her shoulder fearfully.

  “I don’t think so. It was probably someone from the campground.”

  Vanessa’s knees were weak and trembling, but she was not too rattled to think clearly. With mounting distress she silently acknowledged that there was no place where she was absolutely safe from Primer Tass. She could never be alone again as long as that man lived. He was a beast! She had suffered indignities from him that no decent woman should have to endure, the way he handled her breast, his foul talk. . . .

  She would have to tell Kain, she thought. Kain had to be warned. Tass said he would be waiting up the trail . . . to kill him and take her. Oh, Kain! Oh, darling!

  Chapter Eight

  Mary Ben? Are you in there?” Henry stood at the end of the Wisner wagon.

  “No, silly. I’m over here.”

  Henry turned and saw Mary Ben standing at the edge of the camp beneath a large oak tree, its branches cut off so as to not tear the tops of the wagons. She was laughing at him.

  “Silly?” He went toward her. “Are you calling me silly, Mary Ben?”

  “Silly! Silly!” she shouted and struck off through the trees, running lightly. Her joyous laugh and the old yellow dog trailed her. When she was sure she was out of his sight, she hid behind a large tree trunk. Henry passed her hiding place, although he knew she was there, then turned and caught sight of her skirt as she darted to the other side.

  “Now you quit hiding from me, Mary Ben.” A giggle answered him. “Come on out or I won’t give you the present I bought you.”

  “Present?” Her surprised voice came from behind the tree.

  “Yes, but I’m not going to give it to you if you don’t come on out and be nice.”

  “I don’t need no present, Henry, ’n I ain’t agoin’ to be nice, so there!” She flattened herself against the tree trunk and held her hand over her mouth to stifle the excited giggles that bubbled up in her throat.

  Henry sneaked up to the tree, reached around and grabbed her shirt. “I got you, Mary Ben! You’re no good at hiding. I knew you were there all the time.”

  When she started to run Henry jerked on her skirt and she sat down hard on the ground. Her eyes shone up at him and she burst out laughing. Henry threw himself down beside her, his eyes fastened to her face. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything prettier than Mary Ben laughing. The yellow dog decided the game was over. He flopped down and rested his jowls on his paws.

  “Ain’t it fun, Henry? I ain’t never had fun like this. I ain’t never played with nobody. It’s just like we were little younguns again.”

  “I played with Vanessa when I was little, but nobody else wanted to play with me.” He smiled. There was no self-pity in his voice. It was a statement of fact.

  He took off his hat, set it on the ground beside him, and wiped his brow with a red neckerchief. They sat quietly, looking at each other as if the two of them were alone in the world. Mary Ben loved to look at him. He was so handsome and clean, so . . . gentle. He didn’t leer at her as other men did. He said things as they came to him, honest and straight out. From the first she had known he was different from anyone she’d ever met before. He was like a small boy in a grown man’s body. She wished for his sake that he could be more like Mr. DeBolt, but not for hers. She loved him just as he was, and if she had her way she’d stay with him forever.

  “I got something for you. I saw it at the store and Kain said I had enough money to buy it.” He took a package from the inside pocket of his vest and placed it in her lap. He was looking at her with a nervous smile and such tender concern in his eyes that she wanted to cry. “Open it,” he urged. His face lost the smile and his eyes became anxious.

  Mary Ben looked down at the package, then up at Henry. Her eyes filled with tears. “I ain’t never had a present afore. I ain’t never had nothin’ wrapped up.” She picked it up with both hands and held it to her breast. “I jist want to hold it a minute afore I open it.”

  “Don’t cry about it!” Henry peered down into her face and a small distressed sound came from his throat. “Ah . . . Mary Ben, please don’t cry. Smile again. Please,” he begged. “I got the present to make you happy.”

  “People cry when they’re happy, silly.” She sniffed and smiled into his eyes.

  “They do no such thing.”

  “Yes, they do to, Henry Hill.” She carefully unwrapped the paper and the length of pink ribbon and the bottle of toilet water spilled out into her lap. “Oh, my goodness!” she said in an awed voice, lifting the toilet water in one hand and the ribbon in the other. Her eyes became round with surprise and pleasure. “Oh, my goodness gracious me!”

  “Do you like it?” Henry asked anxiously.

  “Like it? Oh, Henry! I ain’t never had nothin’ so fine.”

  “The ribbon will be pretty in your hair, or you can put it on a dress. Do you want to smell this? I’ll open it.” He took the bottle from her hand, pulled the cork plug, and waved the open bottle beneath her nose. “Doesn’t it smell good? Ma and Vanessa put some on their fingers and rub it on their necks and behind their ears. Want me to show you?” Without waiting for an answer, he put a generous amount of the scented water on his fingers and gently spread it on her neck and up under her hair. “You’re pretty, Mary Ben. You’re so . . . pretty. I never saw a girl as pretty as you,” he said softly.

  “I ain’t neither pretty,” she said shaking her head and hoping he’d deny it. “Vanessa’s pretty. She’s the prettiest thing I ever did see.”

  “Van’s pretty,” he admitted, “but you’re prettier. You’re hair is soft and shiny.” He lifted his hand and his fingers lightly touched the tendrils at her temples. “I like the way it curls and hangs down your back. You’re eyes are pretty, too. They’re like the brown-eyed daisies we have back home. I think about you all the time, Mary Ben,” he whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

  “I think about ya too, Henry.”

  “Can I ask you something?” He replaced the cork in the bottle and laid it in her lap. His hand clasped her’s tightly. “Kain said I ought to ask before I did anything. He said if you said no, I was to back off. He said to never force a woman. I’d not ever hurt you, Mary Ben.”

  “I know ya wouldn’t, Henry. Yo’re the kindest man I ever did know. Ya
can ask me anythin’.”

  “Can I kiss you? I’ve been wanting to for a long time, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

  “I ain’t never kissed nobody. I don’t know how.’‘

  “I’ll show you. I’ve kissed Ma and Van on the cheek. But I want to kiss you on the mouth, Mary Ben, like you was my girl.”

  “I don’t care if ya . . . do.”

  Mary Ben felt her breath catch in her throat when his fingers lifted her chin, felt her insides warm with pleasure as his lips softly met hers. She closed her eyes and allowed herself the pure joy of feeling his nose against her cheek and the rough drag of the whiskers on his chin. His mouth was warm and moist, and his breath fresh. She didn’t even think of the panic she’d felt when men had tried to grab her and kiss her. This was different, so different. Such a lovely feeling unfolded in her midsection and traveled slowly through her body. She wanted it to go on and on. His mouth moved against hers ever so slightly with delicious provocation. Gently, as if she were something so fragile she would break, his lips moved over her cheeks, her brows, and touched her closed eyelids. They returned to her lips which opened under the pressure, and she leaned against him, her arms finding their way around his neck as his arms held her gently against him. A surge of pleasure rushed through her, and she heard a soft moan, not knowing if it came from her or Henry.

 

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