A white light, Brandy thought. People who had been brought back from the dead all talked of a white light and a sense of peace and love. “How did you feel while you were there?”
J.T. frowned. “I don’t know. Warm. Safe.” He looked out into the darkness. He felt foolish, talking like this.
“What else?” Brandy urged, thinking how remarkable it was to be talking to someone who had traveled to the other side of life.
“I felt loved,” J.T. replied quietly. “I knew I hadn’t been forgiven for the kind of life I’ve lived, but I knew that he understood and loved me anyway.”
Brandy felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that it was true. “What happened? What did he say?”
“He said I was being given a second chance to redeem myself.”
“And then what?”
J.T. hesitated, unwilling to tell her that there’d been a time limit on his second chance. “He sort of faded away, and the next thing I knew, you were staring at me.”
“That’s incredible,” Brandy mused, and then she frowned. “But why did you call his name while we were…while we were making love.”
For the first time in more years than he could remember, J.T. felt himself blush. “He’s sort of become my conscience.”
“Your conscience? What do you mean?”
“Lately, whenever I’m about to do something he doesn’t approve of, I hear his voice in my head.”
“Oh.” It made perfect sense, Brandy thought. People in the nineties tended to overlook old-fashioned things, like morality, but an angel would surely frown on physical intimacy without the blessing of the church. She felt her cheeks burn as she wondered what had happened to her own conscience. “How are you supposed to redeem yourself?”
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling kidnapping you and stealing that paint horse wasn’t the best way to start.”
“Probably not,” Brandy agreed with a wry grin. “So, where do we go from here?”
“To find the Lakota.”
“But I want to go home,” Brandy said, hating the plaintive note in her voice but unable to suppress it. “I miss my family, my friends.”
J.T. grunted softly. He had no family to miss, no friends to speak of. “Maybe later.”
She started to argue with him, only to realize that she wanted to stay here, with J.T., more than she wanted to go home.
“From what Deputy Hawkins said, it shouldn’t be hard to find your people,” Brandy remarked.
J.T. nodded. It might not be such a good idea, either, he thought ruefully. If the Lakota were itching for war, they were liable to attack first and ask questions later. But it was a chance he was willing to take. He didn’t understand why it was suddenly so important for him to find his mother’s people, but something inside kept urging him in that direction. “We might as well get some sleep,” J.T. said. “I’d like to get an early start in the morning.”
Brandy shivered. The fire was almost out and she was suddenly cold. And lonely for the touch of J.T.’s arms.
J.T. glanced at Brandy. She was sitting beside him, the blanket drawn up to her chin. For the first time, he noticed that the fire was almost out. “I’d better get some more wood.”
“I’d rather have you keep me warm.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Brandy frowned, and then, with a grin, she turned her back to him and pulled on her tunic. “Better?”
“Better.” He murmured her name as he drew her into his arms, marveling anew at how easily she fit into embrace, how good it felt to hold her close. His lips brushed her cheek, her temple. “I’ve never known anyone quite like you,” he murmured softly.
“Probably not,” Brandy remarked, snuggling against him.
“I don’t mean just because you’re from the future,” J.T. said, chuckling. “But then, I haven’t known many decent women.”
“But you’ve known a lot of women, haven’t you?”
“Depends on what you call a lot.”
“What do you call a lot?”
J.T. shrugged. “Fifty, sixty.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “You’re kidding!”
“I’m kidding.”
“Have you known a lot of women?”
She didn’t mean as acquaintances, J.T. mused ruefully. She meant it in the Biblical sense. “Not many.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“No.” His fingers delved into her hair, caressed her nape, slid down her back. “Have you?”
“Not really. I thought I was a couple of times, especially when I was growing up. There was a man on the reservation. I was mad for him. He was tall and dark and handsome, rode in the rodeo. I thought he was wonderful.” Brandy paused. Derek Blue Dog had been ten years older than she was. She had been miserable for weeks when Derek married her best friend’s older sister. She’d had crushes after that, but nothing serious until Gary.
“Why aren’t you married, Brandy?” He’d asked her that question before, and she’d refused to answer.
“I guess I’ve been waiting for Prince Charming to come along and carry me off on his horse.” She looked at J.T. pensively, her lips curving in a smile. “You carried me off,” she remarked quietly.
“Yeah. On a stolen horse.”
Brandy met his gaze and knew, in that moment, that she had fallen hopelessly in love with J.T. Cutter.
Slowly, his head lowered toward hers. His eyes, dark and smoldering, filled her vision, shutting out the rest of the world. His kiss was warm and sweet and filled with longing.
She was breathless when it ended.
“I love you,” J.T. murmured, his voice edged with wonder. “I’ve never said those words to anyone else except…” His voice trailed off and he looked away.
“Except?”
“Except to my mother.”
Gently, she cupped his chin in her hand and turned his face toward hers. “I love you, too, J.T..”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know.” His knuckles brushed her cheek. “Me, either.”
It didn’t solve anything, J.T. mused bleakly. He had less than a year to live, and nothing to offer her. He had no right to love her, to let her care for him, and yet, right or wrong, he wanted to spend every minute of whatever time he had left with the woman he held in his arms.
Chapter Thirteen
Brandy woke slowly, gradually becoming aware of the well-muscled arm beneath her head, of the long, lean body lying next to her. Happiness bubbled up inside her as she remembered the night past, and yet, curiously, she felt strangely wistful. She loved J.T.. He had said he loved her.
Last night, with her lips warm from his kisses and her body tingling with the flush of desire, the fact that he loved her had obscured everything else. He loved her! Now, with her mind clear and unclouded by passion, she was sorely afraid that love, no matter how strong, would not be enough to bridge the differences between them, not the least of which was the fact that she belonged a hundred and twenty-one years in the future.
Brandy sighed heavily. As much as she loved J.T., she had no desire to stay in the past. As romantic as the Old West had appeared to be when viewed from the security of the future, in reality, there was nothing at all romantic about living in 1875. True, life in the 1800s was slower and less complicated, but it was also harder and more dangerous. There was the constant threat of Indian attack, back-breaking, never-ending chores, the ever-present threat of diseases that were no longer prevalent, or fatal, in the future. And yet, it was the little things, the silly things, she missed most, like talking to her friends on the phone, and being able to order a pepperoni pizza at midnight…
Her thoughts came to an abrupt end as J.T. stirred. Turning her head, she felt a rush of color flood her cheeks as she found herself nose to nose with J.T.. His dark brown eyes smiled at her, bright with the memory of the kisses they had shared the night before.
Slowly, so she could have no doubt of his intention, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her gently.
“Good morning, Brandy love,” he drawled softly.
“Good morning, J.T..”
“Sleep well?”
She debated a moment, wondering whether she should tell him the truth, or a lie. The truth won. “I hardly slept at all.”
“I know.” He hadn’t slept any too well himself. He had felt Brandy tossing restlessly for most of the night, her body sliding against his, her breasts, warm and tantalizing, occasionally brushing against his chest or his back, her legs tangling with his.
“What are we going to do, J.T.?”
“What do you want to do?”
Impossible things, Brandy thought. I want to marry you and have your children. I want to laugh with you and cry with you and grow old with you. Impossible things… “I don’t know.”
“Brandy…” J.T. stroked her cheek with his forefinger, let it slide over her lower lip. The tip of her tongue licked his finger, and the warmth of that simple touch went through him like a Fourth of July rocket.
J.T. let out a heavy sigh. “I know what I want.”
“What?”
“To spend the day making love to you.”
His softly spoken words made her insides curl. “Gideon wouldn’t like it,” she reminded him, her voice hoarse.
“Have you ever?”
“Ever what?”
“Made love to a man.”
“Just once.” It had been in college. She’d had a terrible crush on the captain of the basketball team and one night after a game they’d gone to Jim’s apartment. Jim had urged her to have a drink, and then another. Things had blurred after that. The only thing she remembered about the incident was a lot of groping and grunting on Jim’s part. All in all, it had been a totally dissatisfying experience, one she had been in no hurry to repeat. After that disaster, she had made herself a promise that she would wait until she was married. It was a promise she had kept with little effort, until last night.
“Hmmm. Just that once, huh?”
Brandy nodded, suddenly embarrassed. “I didn’t care for it much, but…”
“But?”
“Nothing.” She looked away, remembering how eager she had been for J.T.’s touch the night before. Eager was putting it mildly. She had been on fire for him.
“Dammit, Brandy, I wish…”
“What?”
“I wish I could marry you and give you the kind of life you deserve.”
“Marriage! But, we can’t. I mean…”
“I know. You want to go back home, and I’m…”
“What?” She blew out a sigh of exasperation. “What are you keeping from me?”
J.T. shook his head. “Nothing.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Mr. Cutter. Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because it won’t solve anything, and…” J.T. swore under his breath, afraid to tell her he had less than a year to live. He didn’t want her pity, didn’t want her to try to remake him into something he wasn’t, something he could never hope to be. “We’d better get going.”
“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Have it your own way. I’m leaving.” He rolled away from her and rose to his feet in a lithe movement.
Brandy glared up at him. He wouldn’t leave her behind, and she wasn’t budging until he told her what she wanted to know.
Scowling, J.T. pulled on his moccasins, gathered their gear, went out to saddle the horses.
When he returned to the cave fifteen minutes later, she was still lying under the covers, her arms folded over her chest.
“Get up, Brandy.”
“No.”
Muttering curses under his breath, J.T. hunkered down on his heels and busied himself with lighting the fire. She liked watching him, liked the way he moved. She heard him muttering under his breath as he filled the battered coffeepot and set it on the edge of the coals, something about women of the future being as stubborn as Army mules.
“You might as well tell me,” she said.
He flashed her a glance cold enough to freeze boiling water.
“Please, J.T.?”
“Damn!” He shot to his feet, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into tight fists. “You are the most obstinate woman!”
“I don’t mean to be,” Brandy replied, her voice soft and conciliatory. “I just don’t want any secrets between us.”
J.T. gazed into her eyes, beautiful clear gray eyes filled with love, and felt his anger drain out of him. “I don’t have any right to think about marrying you, Brandy. I don’t want to love you, and I don’t want you to love me.”
His words pierced Brandy’s heart like a sword. Her throat felt suddenly tight. Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back, refusing to cry.
“Brandy, listen to me.” He knelt beside her, his arms aching to hold her, to wipe the unhappiness from her eyes, but he didn’t touch her. Knew if he did, he would never let her go. “I’ve got less than a year to live.”
She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but it hadn’t been anything like that. “What do you mean? Are you sick?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. Gideon said I had a year to redeem myself.”
“And then what?”
“I’m not sure. I guess my time will be up and I’ll have to face him again. For the last time.”
Brandy stared at J.T.. He was talking about death and judgment. Even though she’d never been overly religious, she had always had faith in God, a strong belief in the after life. But J.T. had more than faith in the hereafter; he had knowledge.
Brandy sat up and placed her hand on J.T.’s arm. “I don’t know what to say.”
He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I know you want to go back home,” he said quietly. “I know I’m being selfish as hell, but I want to spend whatever time I have left with my mother’s people. And with you.”
She did cry, then. Huge, silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She had been worried about the differences they would have to overcome if she stayed with J.T., concerned about the fact that she was from the future, that she might never see her home or family again. But all that seemed unimportant now. J.T. had less than a year to live, and she knew suddenly and without doubt that she wanted to spend every minute of that time with him.
“Brandy, please don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Please, Brandy, I can’t bear your tears.”
She burrowed into his arms, seeking comfort, wishing she had never persuaded him to tell her the truth. Whoever said ignorance was bliss had been right, she decided. She had been far happier when she’d thought their biggest problem was finding a way to bridge the time difference between them.
“J.T.?”
“Hmmm?”
“Would you marry me?”
“Marry you! After what I just told you? Are you out of your mind?”
“That’s not a very flattering answer.”
“Brandy, you can’t be serious.”
“I am, though. Will you?”
His arms tightened around her. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Quite sure.”
He leaned back and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so he could see her face. “Are all the women in the future so bold?”
“Pretty much,” she replied with a sniff. “You never answered me.”
“I’ll marry you, Brandy, if that’s what you want.”
“What about what you want?”
“I’ve never wanted anything more.”
With a small sigh of happiness, she rested her head against his chest. Mr
s. J.T. Cutter. It had a nice ring to it.
* * * * *
J.T. slid a glance at the woman riding beside him. She had been unusually quiet since they left the cave and he wondered if she was having second thoughts about their getting married. He knew he was.
“Tell me what to do, Gideon,” he murmured. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
You must follow your heart, J.T..
My heart, J.T. thought ruefully. Until I met Brandy, I would have bet I didn’t have one.
It’s always been there, J.T., else you wouldn’t have been given another chance.
“Don’t start that again,” he muttered.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, Brandy. Just talking to myself.”
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you? About marrying me?”
“No. But are you sure it’s what you want?”
“Very sure.”
“What will you do when I’m…when my time’s up?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that now.”
“You’ll have to think about it sometime.”
“Can’t we worry about it when the time comes?”
J.T. reined his horse to a halt. When the time came, he wouldn’t be there to worry about it. “Brandy, I don’t want you to be hurt.”
She drew her horse up beside his. “I know, but…” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “For whatever time we have left, I want us to spend it together, as man and wife, in case…”
J.T. looked into her eyes and felt as if he’d been sucker punched. Lord have mercy, she was talking about having a baby! Never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever imagined fathering a child.
“J.T., what’s wrong?”
“A baby!” he exclaimed. “You aren’t thinking of having a baby, are you?”
“No, but it could happen.”
J.T. swore softly, eloquently.
“Would it be so terrible?” Brandy asked, and immediately wished she could recall the words. Terrible might be too strong a word, but how else could she expect him to feel, knowing that if she got pregnant, he would never see their child grow up. “I’m sorry, J.T.. I didn’t think…”
“It’s all right,” he replied in a choked voice. “It wouldn’t be terrible.” He forced a smile. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have as the mother of any kids I might have. It’s just that…”
The Angel and the Outlaw Page 14
