by Jodi Thomas
“And,” Rachel interrupted as usual, “once we started taking things, each got easier, and before long we were loading up the wagon while Toledo was busy planning how to kill you and everyone who helped you.”
Sarah J agreed. “It’s a slippery slope to becoming a criminal. Murder, stealing, lying. Once you start, there doesn’t seem a place to stop. First we took the bread, and then, of course, we had to take the butter and jam, and then I thought of the pans we’d need to make more and Rachel remembered the bowls and spoons.”
Duncan had no idea what to advise them. These two were a lawyer’s nightmare. He had a feeling that if he talked to them long, other crimes might pop up along with recipes. “Mind telling me who you ladies think you killed? You know, the first crime you committed that sent you on the run?”
Sarah J glanced at her sister. “Our husbands,” she finally said. “We fed them mushrooms in the gravy.”
Duncan smiled. “Ladies, that’s not murder, that was an accident. I’m sure you didn’t know they were poison.”
Both shook their heads slowly as if easing into a new lie.
“You did know they were poison?” he tried again.
They both nodded.
He didn’t ask more, but he decided he’d probably turn down any dinner invitations.
Rachel looked like she might cry. “They rode off after supper and we never saw them again.”
Duncan had to ask, “You found no bodies?”
“No, but we know they’re out there. Both complained about not feeling well, and after they left, we fed the rest of the meal to the dog. He died before morning.”
“We killed them,” Rachel whispered, “dog and all.”
The day passed. When Duncan drove, he tried not to talk too much to the cooks. Lewt, however, seemed to enjoy visiting with the women when he took his turn driving the wagon. The gambler liked people, all kinds of people, or at least he pretended to.
Duncan preferred traveling with Sumner. He caught up on all that had happened at the ranch. The old man never gossiped, but he did relay facts when one of the McMurrays asked. By the end of the day, Duncan felt sorry for Lewt. The gambler was a good man, honest as anyone in his profession can be. He didn’t deserve the trick his cousins had played.
Duncan wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t tell by the way they acted, but he guessed Lewt had feelings for Emily. Em, on the other hand, had never liked any man who wasn’t related to her, and most of the time she wasn’t too fond of relatives either. When she was little he thought of her as the silent one because she didn’t talk enough for anyone to notice her. Once she started talking, it was mostly to pester him. They were opposites in almost every way, except one. They both loved horses and riding free across Whispering Mountain.
By midafternoon clouds began to form to the west. The choices were to camp out in the open or try to make a run for a mission almost ten miles away.
They ran, with the cooks’ screams carrying on the wind. The road was well traveled by now, but Duncan knew that five minutes after the rain started, it would be a river of mud. If they didn’t make the mission, the wagon would be stuck.
He laughed. Even if Toledo heard the screams she’d have to be flying to catch them, and once they were in the mission, she’d never find them. The missions of Texas had long been a place where rangers could rest or vanish for a time if they needed to.
They reached the mission door just as the downpour hit. Duncan pulled the wagon as close as he could to the chapel and helped the cooks in, then went back to carry Anna through the rain. As always, she didn’t say a word, but clung to him.
When he set her down inside the thick walls of the mission, her eyes were huge, not so much with fright, but with wonder.
“It’s all right,” he whispered, pushing the hair out of her eyes. She was back to looking very much like a child again. “The priest likes rangers. He’ll put us up for the night and make sure the gates are locked. There are nuns here too. They work with the school. You’ ll be safe among them.”
Anna nodded slightly, but he wasn’t sure she believed him. She stayed right beside him as they were served soup and hot tea. He watched her closely as she seemed to study every detail around her.
Duncan told everyone the story that his family believed—that their grandmother and grandfather met at this very mission. He’d been a teacher without a job who stopped here to help teach reading to the Apache. She’d been the daughter of a chief. “The story goes”—Duncan smiled at Em—“that our grandfather fell in love when he touched her hand beneath the book.”
“They were barely twenty when they married and settled at Whispering Mountain.” Em picked up the story. “They had kids and started the ranch, but the strange thing is, my grandfather on my papa’s side died thirteen years after he married at another mission called Goliad.”
Duncan glanced at the cooks, who looked as if they’d lost the thread of the conversation. “Goliad wasn’t much of a battle compared to the Alamo. The men were shot by firing squad, but they died for Texas. Some say it made the rest of Texas so mad that Houston’s men yelled, ‘Remember the Alamo’ and ‘Remember Goliad’ as they overtook Santa Ana’s camp a few months later.”
As the others talked on, Duncan thought of his adopted grandfather. All Andrew McMurray ever wanted was his family and his ranch, yet he’d given it all up to stand and fight for Texas. All Duncan wanted was the adventure, the fight, but he knew with all the men gone from Whispering Mountain, he might have to go home and stay for a while. He’d have to give up his freedom for the ranch. Strange how one man’s dream is another’s prison.
He finally realized why his cousins had never married. There hadn’t been time. The little ranch Andrew and Autumn McMurray started had grown so huge it threatened to consume the family. Duncan didn’t want to think about his responsibility.
As thunder stormed outside and rain pounded, the priest showed the women to their rooms in the hallway called the Sisters’ Wing. The rooms were all small, meant for one person. When Anna saw that she had a lock on the inside of her door, she smiled for the first time.
Duncan stepped inside and set her tiny bundle of clothes down. “Will you be all right in here?”
She nodded, looking around the simple room as if it were grand.
“I’ll tap on your door when it’s almost time to leave.”
He left her there, almost sad that she didn’t need him tonight. Moving along a winding veranda, he finally crossed a courtyard and joined the men bunking in the shed. It was cold, but dry.
“Where’s your shadow?” Sumner asked when Duncan reached the circle of their lantern.
“I’ve been replaced by a lock.”
“She’s safe tonight,” Wyatt said, “but I don’t think it would be a bad idea that we post a guard. I’m not sure one lock at the gate will keep anyone out who wants to kill us.”
They all agreed.
Duncan knew he wouldn’t sleep until they were back in Austin—or even better, he thought, back at Whispering Mountain. Anna would be safe there while they looked for her relatives.
CHAPTER 33
LEWT TOOK THE FIRST WATCH. HE’D BEEN RESTLESS all day. Em was never out of his sight, but he felt like she was moving farther and farther away from him. He tried to think of something to say to her, but the angry words they’d yelled at each other in camp the night before still hung in the air.
She wasn’t avoiding him so much as ignoring him. It was as if he’d disappeared in her vision. Maybe in her memory as well.
He thought of going to her, but he didn’t want to frighten her. That, and the fact that she might shoot him outright if he stepped over the invisible line that stood between them like a ten-foot wall. The days at the ranch seemed a million years away, and the afternoon they’d shared under the cottonwoods seemed more like a dream.
Lewt walked the grounds for a while, then settled in a passageway where he could see both the front gate and the back wall of the mission. The
rain had turned into a drizzle, tapping off the buildings into the mud like the sound of a hundred clocks ticking at once.
He leaned against the wall, feeling like his life was this passage and he had no idea which way to go. He’d saved a great deal of money during the ten years he’d been at the top of his game as a gambler. If he quit and bought some business, he’d always be that gambler who tried to go legitimate. No one would truly trust him.
Something caught the corner of his eye. Someone silently moving through the dark hallway where the women were being housed.
Lewt lifted his rifle and waited. Reason told him anyone meaning harm would come from the outside, not the inside. So he waited.
A tall woman dressed in a straight white gown moved out into the watery moonlight. Her hair was so light it looked almost white, and she moved with a grace he’d recognize anywhere.
Em.
He lowered his rifle but didn’t say a word. They’d developed a habit of not speaking since the fight, and he wasn’t sure how she’d react if he yelled. Besides, what could he say? Hello didn’t seem right for someone who’d been so close, and Give me another chance sounded too much like begging.
She moved with her head down, following the brick walkway worn smooth over a hundred years.
He’d seen her hair down so rarely, he hadn’t really thought about how beautiful it could be. Unlike when she’d pulled the braids, tonight her hair hung straight without a single wave. It flowed behind her almost like a veil.
She was within five feet of him when she looked up and saw him. He heard her sharp intake of breath, but she didn’t move. She just stood staring at him.
Lewt knew he should say something. Maybe that he was sorry for being in the way and intruding on her silent walk. Maybe he could make an attempt to say that he was sorry for what he said. Maybe he should just remain silent. The less they talked, the less he’d have to apologize for later.
She studied him without any expression. After a long minute, she moved closer.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” he finally said, guessing that she’d only begin listing all the things she hated about him, as she had last night.
“Neither do I,” she answered.
She took another step and leaned forward, her face an inch away from his. Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to his. When he didn’t move, she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled his head closer. Her kiss was simple, closed mouth, almost punishing.
Lewt wasn’t sure what she wanted, or, more accurately, what she wanted him to do.
She leaned closer, almost touching him, and began brushing her cheek against his. When her mouth touched his again, it was softer.
He was sure he was losing his mind. His body seemed to mutiny. He kissed her back.
Surprisingly, it seemed to be exactly what she wanted. She leaned against his chest, pushing his back into the wall, and wrapped her arm around his neck. The kiss caught fire. All the anger between them stood down, and passion took its place.
He felt like he’d been starving for days and she offered him exactly what he needed to survive. He moved his hands over the soft cotton of the plain gown and felt the wonder of her beneath it.
She didn’t touch him, but she sighed with pleasure as he touched her. When he broke the kiss, he turned her around and pulled her to him. Her head leaned against his shoulder as his hands moved over her body. He could feel her breathing. Tonight there were no hesitant brushes or light touches. The need to hold her was too great. He covered both of her breasts in his tight grip as he bit lightly into the curve of her neck. She cried out softly, then sighed as he continued moving his hands over her gown, getting to know the graceful body he’d watched so often.
She’d come to him. He laughed with pure joy against the soft skin below her ear. She’d come to him just as he’d told her she’d have to.
When he could wait no longer, he twisted her to face him once more and kissed her.
Her breathing was rapid and deep when he gripped her shoulders and pushed gently, putting her back against the wall and them both into shadows.
She was here with him . . . wanting him, and nothing else mattered at this moment.
Slowly, he began unbuttoning her gown. He could feel her trembling as he moved from button to button, pulling each free and taking the time to push the material aside.
“Em,” he whispered. “My Em.”
When he shoved his hand inside and touched her flesh, she drew in a breath and held it as he moved over her bare skin. She was perfection. Her gown was open to the waist, but the shadows prevented him from seeing the heaven he felt.
“Breathe,” he whispered against her ear.
She let out her breath in a rush and began to gulp for air. He placed his hand on her abdomen to feel each breath rise and fall. “I love to feel you breathe,” he whispered, “almost as much as I love taking your breath away.”
He raised her arms above her head with one hand as the other slid down her rib cage. “Breathe,” he whispered, “while I feel you.” Spreading his hand wide, he moved over her as he kissed her face lightly. When she let out a sigh of pleasure, he covered her mouth and kissed her deeper than he’d ever kissed a woman. Her arms lowered to his shoulders as her body seemed to melt into his.
There was no hesitance in his touch, only passion. He’d wanted her all day, dreamed of her all night, and now she’d come to him. He wouldn’t pretend his hunger for her was any less. Shoving the gown off her shoulders, he let it settle on her hips as he caressed her.
When he ended a long kiss, he didn’t remove his hands from her. She was warm now to his touch. He kissed her face and throat gently until her breathing slowed, then moved his hand up to the valley between her breasts. His fingers were slowly passing over each breast when he decided to kiss her again. He cupped her face with his free hand and opened her mouth with his thumb, then began another long endless kiss.
Her arms tightened about his neck as his hands moved behind her, shoving the gown lower as he cupped her hips. He pulled her against the length of him without breaking the kiss. The day without touching her had left him hungry. He wanted to be gentle, to move slow, to be sure of his footing before he jumped into passion, but the taste of her, the feel of her, drove all rational thought away, leaving him exposed and open.
She wanted this too, he thought. She’d come to him. She was returning his kiss. If only for a moment in the shadows, she was his Em again and she wanted him.
When the kiss finally ended, they were both exhausted from wave after wave of passion. He pulled away, knelt, and lifted her gown slowly from the floor. He was so close, his breath warmed her skin as the material moved up her body. Slowly, he buttoned her gown, then kissed her forehead as if he hadn’t just been roaming his hands all over her and loving every moment of it.
For a long while, he just held her, moving his fingers in her hair, kissing her lightly now and then on the cheek, pulling her briefly into a hug. Neither said a word. She swayed slightly into his embrace and pressed against him so closely he could feel her heart beat next to his.
A thousand questions came to his mind, but for now just holding her seemed enough. He brushed his hand lazily over her hip and heard her soft sigh. She was his mate, he thought. A perfect match, if only in the shadows.
When Lewt heard footsteps, he turned and lifted his rifle. Someone was coming from the direction of the shed. He stepped out of the shadows and waited.
“You awake?” Wyatt’s low voice asked as he materialized out of the night.
Lewt glanced over his shoulder. Em had vanished. He thought he saw her nightgown caught in the blink of moonlight, but he couldn’t be sure. “I’m awake,” he said, wishing he could return to the dream he’d just experienced.
“No,” he whispered to himself. It was real. Em had been in his arms.
“Did you say something?” Wyatt asked as he stared out into the night sky.
“Only that it’s time to turn in.” L
ewt headed into the darkness. “Good night. See you at dawn.”
A few minutes later he spread out on the hay and relived every moment he’d spent with Em. He could still feel her skin on his fingertips and smell the honeysuckle fragrance of her hair.
If she was mad at him and had decided to use this as a way to punish him, it was working. He’d be dead from the need for her in no time.
At dawn the men ate breakfast with the priest, then saddled the horses while the women took their meal of simple porridge and honey bread.
They were ready to leave when the women finally came out into the morning sun. Anna moved to Duncan’s side and let him help her into the wagon. The cooks kept up a steady stream of conversation, even though none of the men paid much attention.
Lewt watched Em and wasn’t surprised she didn’t look at him. She was back to ignoring him. He told himself it didn’t matter as long as she came to him at night, but he realized he wanted her . . . all of her.
Lewt rode point, scouting far enough ahead to make sure trouble didn’t surprise them. The land was growing rocky with bends and turns in the road. He knew they were in Texas and should feel safe, but the feeling of being hunted still hadn’t washed out of his system. He felt like he did sometimes when he walked the streets after midnight, only now it was daylight and he couldn’t just tell himself to stay in the streetlight glow to be safe.
Duncan interrupted his thoughts by riding up beside him.
“Another day and we should be far enough that we won’t have to worry about Toledo,” Duncan said, as if talking to himself. “No matter how much she wants the girl, she’s not likely to stray too far into Texas.”
“Does she have the right?” Lewt asked.
“No. Anna can make her own way now. If I hadn’t ended up at Three Forks, I have a feeling Ramon and Anna would have been married within the year. The way I see it, the girl’s life stopped when she was shipped to Three Forks. She’s small, but she’s full grown—in her body, anyway. In her mind she may always be a little kid.”
“So we can’t just drop her off at the nearest street corner. What do we do with her?” Lewt didn’t want to think about what would happen if she wasn’t protected.
