“It’s the . . . same.” Her heart fluttered and she drew her face back to look at him.
“No, ma’am, it isn’t.” He grew tongue-tied looking down into her white face, and the absurdity of it made him half angry. Her eyes glistened in the darkness and her breath came out in little buffs of warmth. His amber eyes drank in every feature as if he wished to imprint them on his soul. They stared at each other for a moment that was so still it seemed time had stopped.
Looking into his eyes, Vanessa felt a wild, heated longing stab her body and race through her veins with the speed of lightning. She raised both arms, letting her hands move up his chest to his shoulders. The buckskin shirt was smooth and soft beneath her fingertips. Her hands reached his throat, moved up beneath his ears, and paused. She could feel soft, silky hair against her fingers, and moved them around to the back of his neck. His hair came to the top of his shirt and was cut off bluntly. The boldness of her action sent a thrill of excitement through her. Her fingertips wandered up to his eyes, traced the straight brows above them, traversed the slope of his nose down to his lips, and traced the scar that slashed across his cheek.
Then slowly, haltingly, she gathered her hair in her hand, lifted it and wrapped it about his neck, binding him to her. Again she slipped her hands into his hair at his nape, let them remain there and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. It was a moment in which they both knew that something had changed forever. For as long as they lived there would be a bond between them.
Kain could feel life pounding in his throat, his temples. He was achingly aware of her small, firm breasts, warm clinging arms and her breath on his neck, and the intimacy of her body resting so trustingly against his sent a wave of desire through him. He forgot there was no future for him, nothing but this moment.
As if compelled by forces stronger than he, Kain lowered his head and pressed gentle kisses to her wet eyes, and sipped at her tears with utter gentleness. Then a sound of urgent longing escaped his throat, and he whispered against her lips, “Vanessa, Vanessa . . . I can’t help myself.”
Their breaths mingled for an instant before he covered her mouth with his. He kissed her lingeringly, tasting her mouth, learning its shape and texture, but softly, gently, as though she were infinitely fragile and precious. The streak of flame spreading through his groin jolted him, and he drew her closer, holding her tightly against him, drinking in her sweetness until his senses reeled. Her body was pliant against his, his lips soft and clinging, and he took them hungrily, again and again.
“I wish—oh, God, how I wish I’d met you sooner,” he murmured against her lips, and there was pain in his voice. His mouth trailed over her cheek, along the curve of her jaw and down the column of her throat. “You’re so sweet, so sweet,” he muttered feverishly, then caught her mouth again, desperately needing the taste of her, rubbing her lips with his until they parted so his tongue could roam her soft inner lips.
Time was lost in the hot excitement flowing from his body to hers and back again. He was loath to end it and his mouth trailed over her eyelids, her cheeks and her firm little chin before nuzzling in the softness of her hair.
“Sweet, sweet, wonderful Vanessa. I never meant to . . . kiss you like that.” He stuttered and tremors shook his tall frame. He kissed her again, reclaiming her full bottom lip in a long, fiercely possessive kiss.
“I never knew kissing was so wonderful,” she said weakly while he was placing small kisses along the line of her jaw. “I feel like I have no bones, no muscles.”
“It isn’t always this wonderful.” His voice was thick and husky.
“I didn’t think it was. It was special, wasn’t it, Kain?”
“For me it was.”
Her hand moved to his cheek. “For me, too, my darling Kain. How did you get this scar?”
“By being careless. I took a man’s gun, but not his knife.”
“You’ve been to a lot of places I’ve never heard of. Have you known many . . . women?”
“A few. But none as beautiful as you.”
“I like to hear it, even if I don’t believe it. Kain? I feel so much better about . . . Primer Tass. You’ll be careful?”
“Of course.” Just looking at her and holding her gave him pleasure. Feeling the swell of her breast, her firm hips and breathing in the scent of her breath sent a golden warmth spreading through him.
“Kain do you still think Adam Clayhill is Henry’s uncle?” The question came softly from beneath his chin where her face was nestled.
“Yes, I do. If there was a rich, powerful rancher in that area by the name of Adam Hill, I think I would have heard about him. Ellie will not receive the welcome she’s expecting from Adam Clayhill,” he commented in a soft whisper.
“Tell me about him. You said he married your mother. Did she love him?”
“I think he swept her off her feet with his charm. He can be very charming when he wants to be, and he thought my mother was rich. The man is totally without compassion. Henry Clayhill raised Adam’s son by an Indian woman. And when Henry died he left his fortune to Adam’s son, Logan Horn. That brings up another question that’s been dogging my mind. Why didn’t he leave his money to his widow, Ellie? Perhaps he died before he had a chance to change his will. But if that was the case, Adam would have known Henry had a wife and out of pure meanness to keep Logan from having the money he would have seen to it that Henry’s marriage was made public.”
“I don’t think I’ll like this Adam Clayhill.”
“Hardly anyone does. There is a bright side, however. Logan Horn is a fine man. If Ellie is Henry Clayhill’s widow, she and Henry will be welcomed by Logan and his wife.”
“I think Aunt Ellie is terribly worried, but she needn’t be. We have money to start our bakery. We don’t need help from anyone.”
Vanessa found herself waiting, hoping and praying that Kain would say they had him now. But the silence went on and on. He sat quietly, his fingers massaging the nape of her neck. Although his arms still held her close, a sixth sense told her he had pulled some part of himself away from her.
“I’d better get some sleep.” She hoped he’d ask her to stay a while longer. He didn’t, and she pushed herself away from him, then smoothed her hair with trembling hands. He stood and pulled her up beside him.
“From now on I want you to stay in the wagon. Henry can drive John’s, and John and I will ride alongside. You’re not to leave camp. Understand? If you can stand the pace we’ll travel from dawn to dusk. I know a shortcut that will bypass Denver and cut days off the travel time to Junction City. I think we should take it.”
“Don’t worry about me. It’s Aunt Ellie—”
“I’ll tell her we have to hurry and get there before the cold weather sets in. Now run along and get some sleep. I’ll stand your watch.”
“No. I—”
“Yes. If I’m in charge, I’m in charge, Vanessa. Don’t argue . . . please. Run along now.” He added the last words tiredly as if he were speaking to a rebellious child, and they put more distance between them.
“All right. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Vanessa went to the wagon, confused and hurt by the swift change in Kain’s attitude. He had dismissed her as if he hadn’t held her in his arms, called her darling, or kissed her. It was as though what had happened between them had meant nothing to him at all.
Chapter Nine
The sun was making its first appearance of the day when Kain tied his horse to the rail in front of the store outside Fort Lyon. Even at this time in the morning wagons, both covered and freight, dray horses, mules, riders from the campground and drifters mingled in the street. He stood with his back to the wall of the store while his sharp eyes roamed. There didn’t seem to be anyone paying particular attention to him and he saw no one who resembled Primer Tass. He entered the store and greeted the big man behind the counter.
“Morning.”
The storekeeper stood in the same place as t
he day before, wore the same clothes and had the same surly look on his face.
“What’re ya back fer?”
“If it was a friendly greeting I came for I got short changed by a mile,” Kain answered curtly.
“Friendly ain’t what I’m here fer.” He shot a healthy spit of tobacco toward the gaboon, and the sound of the splash that followed indicated he had hit it.
“I want to hire a couple of good men for a few weeks. I thought you’d be the man to point them out.”
“Why me?”
“Because anyone as cantankerous as you is bound to have run into the best and worst of the lot that hangs around a place like this.”
“You wantin’ to kill somebody, steal somethin’ or overthrow the gover’ment?”
“I want to get a good woman to some folks up north, and there’s a lowdown son of a bitch that wants to carry her off against her will. I want men who will kill if they have to, steal if they have to, or do whatever is necessary to keep her safe.”
“Wal, now . . . ain’t nobody goin’ to sit still if’n a good woman’s bothered. Ya ort a know that.”
“I do know it, and I’m that somebody who’s not sitting still. Do you know a couple of good men who would hire on to ride with us for wages?”
“A train pulled out fer Denver this mornin’. Why didn’t ya hook up with ’em?”
“That’s none of your damn business, but I’ll tell you anyway. We’re moving light and fast and I’ve no wish to nursemaid a bunch of pilgrims.”
A grin twitched the storekeeper’s stern mouth for an instant. “Don’t know as I blame you none. That kid you had the run-in with, he ’n his bunch was in the saloon last night. Is it him yo’re lookin’ out fer?”
“That kid doesn’t amount to a pimple on a jaybird’s ass compared to the hombre we’re up against. Do you know the kind of men I’m looking for? If you don’t, say so and I’ll look somewhere else.”
“Crotchety, ain’t ya? Yup, I know ’em. Texans. Pure hickory is what they is. Come up with a herd. They keep to themselves, but they don’t take no shit off’n nobody.”
“Where can I find them? My party has pulled out and we’ve got to catch up.”
“I’ll get ’em.” The storekeeper went out the back door, slamming it behind him.
Kain backed against the counter where he could watch both doors. The ribbon table and the spool of blue from which he had purchased the length for Vanessa were directly in his line of vision. The ribbon was still in his pocket. He had intended to give it to her at supper the night before. With everyone present, he had planned to say something like, “Henry thought you should have this,” and carelessly toss it in her lap. It would have been less personal that way. But somehow, when the time came, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. And later, when she had come to him, he’d forgotten about it. In fact, he’d forgotten everything except that he had been alone in the dark with her.
He knew when she left him she had been hurt and confused. Damn! Why had he kissed her the way he had? Knowing her sweetness was going to make it twice as hard to stay away from her. But, hell, he reasoned, wasn’t he entitled to a few pleasures? Logic battered his mind. With death creeping up on him, he had no right to let her think they could make a life together. She had a future, if he could keep her safe from Tass. He had no future to offer her. He had a thing inside him that was slowly eating his life away. It was still hard for him to believe that he was dying, yet it was happening. He was a man who had always lived with his muscles as well as his brain, and at times he felt as strong as he always had.
The storekeeper came back followed by two men in dusty trail clothes. They stood side by side, looking at Kain while he looked at them. The storekeeper went behind the counter without a word. Kain studied each man, one at a time. His experienced eyes told him the first one had been up the trail and over the mountain. Years in the saddle had bowed his legs and bent his back. He was tall, thin, and almost as old as John. He had sharp eyes, a handlebar mustache and wore down-at-the-heel boots. His hands were large and gnarled from hard work. He hooked his thumbs in the gun belt slung around his lean hips and eyed Kain in much the same manner Kain was eyeing him.
The second man was slightly younger, shorter, heavier. All else was the same. Both men had quiet faces and eyes that seemed to see everything. They were sizing him up as they had no doubt sized up a hundred men before him. He knew instinctively that if they didn’t like his looks the money wouldn’t make any difference.
“Did the man tell you what I needed?” Kain jerked his head toward the storekeeper.
“Yup,” the older man said.
“The man we’re up against, name of Primer Tass, is meaner than a rutting moose. Ever heard of him?”
“A bit, now ’n then.”
“Then I guess you know he doesn’t play by the rules. He’s not one to meet you straight out unless he’s forced to. He’ll be ahead of us and will put a hole in your back if he gets the chance. He wants one of the women, and if he gets her he’ll not leave anyone to tell the tale.”
“I heared it’s his way.” The younger of the men looked straight at Kain without the slightest change of expression on his weathered face.
“The cards are on the table. That’s what we’re up against. Are you still willing to sign on?”
“I ain’t heared nothin’ to change my mind none. Have you, Clay?”
“Nothin’.”
“I’ll pay each of you fifty dollars in gold, feed you, and help you find work if you want it when we get there.”
“It’s good enuff fer me.”
“Me, too.”
“I’m Kain DeBolt.” Kain held out his hand. He could tell a lot about a man by his handshake. The ones he got were firm, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“Clay Hooker, Van Zandt County, Texas.”
“Jeb Hooker, same place.”
“Brothers?”
“Yup.”
“By the way, these women make the best pie you ever ate. They’re going to start a bakery up north.”
Clay grinned and the dry skin on his face seemed to crackle. “I ain’t had no good pie since I left Texas.”
“Ya shoulda said that first off. Clay’s stomach is arubbin’ on his backbone pert near all the time.”
“They’re good women.” Kain looked first one man and then the other straight in the eye.
“In Texas a woman’s a woman. Makes no ne’er mind if’n they be good or bad.” Jeb took out a long thin knife, cut off a chaw of tobacco and stuck it inside his cheek.
“I know. I’ve been to Texas, but I needed to hear you say it.”
“Don’t blame ya none.” Jeb passed the plug of tobacco to his brother.
“Do you have good horseflesh?”
“Yup.”
“Then get your belongin’s and let’s ride. The folks started out behind the train for Denver and we’ll catch up. I figured if Tass was ready to make his move he’d have done it last night. I’ll meet you out front.”
“Much obliged.” Jeb nodded at the storekeeper.
“Me, too.” Clay, the younger one, followed his brother out the door.
“They don’t talk much,” Kain said.
“Shee . . . it! I thought ya wanted men what’d shoot, not talk ya to death.”
Kain ignored the sarcasm and tossed a ten dollar gold piece on the counter. “We’ll need extra grub. Give me some coffee, raisins, soda crackers, and a few sticks of candy. Put in some beans, rice, tobacco and a few plugs of whatever the Hookers are chewing. Whatever is left, keep it for your trouble.”
He dipped into the cracker barrel and took out a handful of crackers, then went to the front door and looked out into the street. He had discovered the pains didn’t bother him so much after he had eaten. He nibbled on the crackers and waited for the Hooker brothers to appear.
They rounded the corner mounted on strong, long-legged horses that stood at least seventeen hands high. They had bedrolls tied behind their sa
ddles and rifles in the scabbards. When they stopped one of them was looking down the street one way, and the other swung around facing the opposite direction. Trail wise men, Kain thought. They’ve seen a lot of country and trouble to go with it.
Kain gathered up the cloth bag of supplies and offered his hand to the storekeeper. “I’m obliged to you, mister.”
“Good luck to ya. I stuck in a bit more a that laudanum. The poor bastard what’s got a cancer’ll need it afore he gets to the Pearly Gates.”
“Thanks.” Kain set the sack back down on the counter, took out the bottle and put it in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said again before he left.
When he reached the porch he nodded to the Hooker brothers and mounted Big Red. He kept the big horse at a leisurely pace until they reached the Santa Fe Trail. Up ahead he could see the dust cloud from the wagon trail. Vanessa would be right behind it. He kicked his mount into a fast canter, anixous to be near her. The Hooker brothers kept pace with him.
* * *
“Go on, missy. Go on ’n puller ’er out.”
“Where’s Kain?” Vanessa climbed up on the wagon seat and took the reins from John’s hand.
“Rode out. He said fer us to go on; he’d catch up.” John was mounted on Vanessa’s horse and Henry was driving his wagon, Mary Ben sitting on the seat beside him.
“I knew that he’d ridden out.” There was a deep note of irritation in Vanessa’s voice. With a flip of her wrist she snaked the whip over the backs of the team, harnesses creaked, the mules strained, and the wagon rolled up onto the trail.
“He went to the mercantile,” Ellie said when they had pulled in behind the twenty-five wagon train headed for Denver.
“Why did he go back? He was there yesterday.”
“He asked me if I was sure we didn’t need anything more from the store. My, my, Vanessa. Do you know he wouldn’t take a cent for what he got yesterday? He said for us to keep our money stashed away and not be flashing it—as if I’d do a thing like that.”
Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] Page 14
