Texas Blonde

by Victoria Thompson

  "Help me, Lissy," he commanded, gasping when she swiftly obeyed with fingers made clumsy by all-consuming desire. Then she guided him to her with a boldness she had never shown-and never known-before.

  He took her slowly, tormenting them both by prolonging the agony and the exquisite pleasure of delay.

  "Don't… ever… leave… me," he chanted against her mouth as his body drove her to unknown heights where the air was thin and she gasped for every breath. She was so high she might have touched the stars, but when she tried, they exploded around her in a brilliant burst of flame.

  Jeremiah chewed the last bit of meat off the tiny rabbit bone and tossed it aside. He was still hungry, but that was to be expected when one small rabbit had to feed four grown men. He glanced at the motley group clustered around the campfire and shook his head in disgust. Only four of them remained out of the dozen who had invaded Logan's ranch, and one of the four was so badly wounded, Jeremiah doubted he would live until morning.

  "We've got to get out of here before we starve to death," Jeremiah said to the wizened man squatting to his right.

  Ortega turned his beady black eyes toward Jeremiah, eyes filled with hate and suspicion. "I will not leave until I have killed Logan," he said with the air of one repeating a catechism.

  "You won't be able to kill Logan if you're dead yourself," Jeremiah pointed out with what he hoped sounded like perfect logic. "We're out of food and it's too dangerous to hunt this close to Logan's ranch. They're bound to hear the shots. We can't live on rabbit forever." Jeremiah made a disdainful gesture toward the remains of the animal he had been lucky enough to snare that morning.

  "We could leave now if you had killed Logan when you had the chance," Ortega snarled, his thick lips curling in contempt.

  Jeremiah fought down the swift wave of anger that threatened to cloud his judgment. Too much defensiveness would only convince Ortega that he was right. "I told you," he said calmly. "The old woman tricked me. She called out a warning and Logan got the drop on me. If Jose hadn't come in when he did and distracted him, I'd be dead now, too."

  Ortega studied him with those hate-filled eyes, and Jeremiah forced himself to meet that gaze unflinchingly. Fearing that Ortega would challenge his story again, Jeremiah went on the offensive. "And what makes you think you can get to Logan with this crew?" he asked, making another disdainful gesture at the men gathered around the fire. One of them murmured incoherently in feverish delirium. Another favored a badly sprained leg. Even Ortega sported a bloody bandage on his forearm. Only Jeremiah had emerged from the attack unscathed, and that had won him Ortega's well-earned suspicions.

  Ortega considered Jeremiah's question thoughtfully as he, too, studied what was left of his gang. "You're right," he said at last. "I have to go back to Mexico."

  Jeremiah experienced a sense of profound relief. The only reason he had sought out this hidden camp after the fire- the camp he himself had located for Ortega's gang as their base of operations while they conducted their raids on the Rocking L Ranch-was because he wanted to be sure Ortega had given up his plans for revenge against Josh Logan. But Jeremiah's relief was short-lived.

  "I will need more men to do what I have planned. Not many, just a few good men that I can trust," Ortega murmured thoughtfully. "Men who know how to treat a woman."

  "A woman?" Jeremiah echoed in sudden alarm. "What woman? What exactly do you have planned?"

  Ortega smiled, showing blackened teeth. "I cannot beat Logan in an open fight. I cannot even take enough of his cattle to hurt him. But I can take something more precious to him than any of his other possessions. I will take his wife."

  "But she isn't here," Jeremiah protested, feeling a growing apprehension as he realized Ortega was deadly serious about this plan.

  "She will return, sooner or later. I am a patient man. I can wait. When she comes, when I have found the right men, I will come back." His grin grew sly as he considered Jeremiah's reaction to his words. "Or maybe I do not need any other men. As I remember, you are a man who knows how to handle white women. Maybe I will just turn her over to you."

  Felicity shivered slightly as she looked at the new barn in the golden glow of morning and tried to imagine the horror of that night when the old one had burned. Josh came up behind her on the porch and placed his hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture. "The barn was old," he said. "We needed a new one anyway."

  She turned to face him, searching his expression to discover his true emotions. Last night they had been so distracted by the intoxication of simply being together again, they had not discussed the other important things. "Blanche said Jeremiah saved your life."

  Josh nodded grimly, remembering the events of that night all too clearly. "He killed one of his own men to save me and Candace. The really strange part was that he had come that night especially to kill me."

  Felicity shuddered at the thought. "What happened to change his mind?" she asked, needing to hear all the details.

  Josh led her over to the porch swing, where they sat down before he began telling her of the events of that night. Felicity held his hand tightly as he spoke, sharing his emotions as he relived the shock of the fire and the awful scene in the parlor. When he was finished, they sat in silent communion for a long moment before Felicity finally spoke.

  "It's easy to understand why Jeremiah hated you so much. He must have felt that nobody loved him at all. But he was really a good man, deep down. He proved that when he saved your life and Candace's," she said, wiping away a tear and trying not to think how close death had come to her beloved.

  "Yes," Josh agreed. "It's easy to see how he got mixed up with Ortega, but he proved what kind of a man he really is."

  "What I simply can't believe is that your mother could do something so awful to an innocent boy. Poor Jeremiah," she said.

  "She was a very selfish person. From what Jeremiah said, she must have been a little crazy, too. That's what Candace thinks, anyway. We talked about it afterward, and it's the only explanation that makes any sense."

  Felicity nodded. "I just wish…"

  "You wish what?" he asked when she did not finish the thought.

  "I wish we could make it up to Jeremiah. I wish he could come and live here with us." She gave him an apologetic smile, certain that he would disapprove of her suggestion, but instead he smiled back, warmly and lovingly.

  "I wish the same thing," he said, reaching up to stroke the soft curve of her cheek. How strange that they should both want the same thing for his half-brother. "Unfortunately, he's guilty of rustling, and he's still wanted for rape, even if he's innocent of that crime. If he stayed around here very long, he'd wind up on the end of a rope."

  "It just doesn't seem very fair," Felicity said, nuzzling against his hand.

  "Life is hardly ever fair," Josh said. "We just have to be grateful when we get a little lucky, the way you and I are right now," he added with another warm smile.

  Felicity closed her eyes for a moment against the pure bliss his words brought her. They really were lucky, very lucky, when she considered what might have happened. And then she remembered someone else who had not been quite so fortunate. "How is Candace doing? She seemed fine last night but…"

  "She keeps it all inside. Like I said, we talked some right after the fire, but not since. She never mentions Jeremiah's name."

  "Then maybe I'd better go see her, and let her talk it out," Felicity said, remembering how often Candace had comforted her during difficult times. Reluctantly, she removed Joshua's hand from where it was still caressing her face. "She's helped me over a lot of rough spots. Now it's time I returned the favor."

  Josh nodded his agreement as she rose from the swing and gave him a parting smile. He watched her moving away, enjoying the graceful sway of her body as she walked across the porch and back into the house to look for Candace. In those few seconds, he came to realize how much she had changed. The frightened girl he had found on the prairie was now a woman, a new woman, an
d he loved her in a new way. Last night, when they had come together in the heat of passion, had been wonderful, but strangely, this quiet time together had been equally satisfying.

  He spent a few moments trying to decide why and came to the rather startling conclusion that he genuinely liked his wife, something he had never noticed before. He had always thought of her as a lover and a wife and sometimes even as a mother for his children, but never had he thought of her as a friend. The idea was intriguing, but perfectly logical when he gave it some thought. Who knew him better or understood him as well? To whom were his concerns more important? Who else could share both his sorrows and his happiness? And what other person had brought him more happiness? The word was the very meaning of her name. Josh smiled slowly as he recalled all the reasons why he had selected her as his bride. They had been the wrong reasons, but in his ignorance, he had made the right choice anyway. The innocent, frightened girl he had taken to wife was all grown up, molded by tragedies and hardships that might have destroyed someone else. She was everything he had always wanted, and he would cherish her as he had never cherished another person.

  Josh glanced doubtfully at the letter Felicity had just given him to mail. "What makes you think Asa even wants to come back to Texas? He just spent over a year here, looking for you. I'll bet his saddle sores aren't even healed yet."

  "He'll come," Felicity said confidently, "especially when he reads that letter."

  "What on earth did you tell him, Mrs. Logan?" Josh asked, narrowing his eyes at her in an attempt at intimidation.

  The attempt failed, as he had known it would. "I just hinted, ever so discreetly, that Blanche might look upon him favorably as a suitor," Felicity informed him, meeting his disapproving gaze squarely.

  Josh resisted the urge to kiss that satisfied grin of hers into something far more interesting. But they were, after all, standing on the front porch of the ranch house, where anyone might see. Still, it was tempting, especially when he saw the silent invitation glittering in her blue eyes. The little vixen had developed into quite a temptress since her return. The past two weeks had been like a new beginning for them in which the sensual intoxication of their renewed intimacy was enhanced by the depth that tragedy and hardship had given their relationship.

  If Josh had had his druthers, he would have spent every hour of every day in bed with Felicity, making love now and again but mostly just talking, exploring these new depths. He had confirmed his earlier theory that talking with her, sharing thoughts and dreams, worries and concerns, was actually another way of making love. And an equally satisfying way, too.

  "Felicity," he said, giving her what he hoped was a chastening look, "did Blanche tell you to write to Asa?"

  "Well, no," she admitted reluctantly.

  "Did she tell you she wanted him to court her?"

  "Not in so many words…"

  "Felicity!" he said in exasperation. "You can't go meddling in other people's lives like this. What if Asa comes all the way back here, and Blanche won't have anything to do with him?"

  "But she will," Felicity insisted. "The only reason she's mad at him right now is because he left her in the first place. If he comes back, everything will be just fine."

  "Then let her tell him herself. You can't meddle-"

  "Yes, I can," she said. "Blanche meddled in our lives, and just think what might have happened if she hadn't."

  Josh frowned at the memory. "I would have come for you," he reminded her.

  "Yes, but we would have lost a whole week together, and besides, things might have worked out differently if you'd come to Philadelphia spoiling for a fight." She crossed her arms in silent challenge. They had argued this point before, and he had conceded that she was probably right.

  He did so now, but still, he fingered the envelope doubtfully. "I just hate for Asa to come all this way and be disappointed."

  "He won't be," she promised, and then smiled lovingly up at him. "I came all this way and I wasn't disappointed a bit."

  No longer able to resist the temptation, Joshua swooped down and planted a kiss on her perfect little mouth. When he let her go, she was blushing prettily.

  "Mr. Logan, behave!" she said, giving him a playful swat. "You're making a spectacle of yourself."

  "I'll do more than that if you don't stop flirting with me right out here in public," he threatened with a grin.

  She dimpled. "I wasn't flirting!" she protested. "If you want to see flirting, I'll-"

  "No, please!" he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "I'll wait until I get back from town and we're in a very private place. Then you can feel free to drive me absolutely crazy. Until then," he warned, grabbing her chin, "behave yourself!" He gave her another quick kiss and made a hasty escape to the horse that was waiting to take him to town.

  Felicity watched him ride away, standing on the porch and waving until he was out of sight. Then she sighed and moved over to the porch swing, where she slumped down wearily. Closing her eyes, she fought the wave of fatigue that threatened to overwhelm her and considered the wisdom of taking a short nap before Joshua returned home.

  In Philadelphia, she had blamed her lassitude on missing Joshua and on the late hours she and Richard had kept by attending parties and plays and social events. Hadn't Dr. Strong explained to her how the human mind could play tricks on the body? Her worry about Joshua and about Richard's unwanted attentions had worn her out physically. That was all there was to it.

  Except her simple rationalization did not explain why she continued to be so tired now that she and Joshua were together again and everything was fine.

  "Are you all right, Miss Felicity?" Candace's voice cut into her thoughts.

  "Yes, I'm fine," Felicity said, managing to smile reassuringly at the black woman who had just come out onto the porch. She was glad to see Candace had regained her old spirit once Felicity had managed to convince her that Jeremiah no longer held her responsible for what had happened to him. The fact that he had saved her life and Joshua's proved it.

  The old domineering Candace glared down at her now. Joshua Logan's mammy was not fooled by Felicity's protests that she felt fine. Candace shook her head and clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "That man's trying to wear you out. You ought to tell him 'no' once in a while. It wouldn't hurt him none," she advised.

  Felicity smiled tiredly at Candace's tone. "You're right, Candace," Felicity said, eager to accept this explanation for her tiredness. She couldn't let herself consider any other possibilities, not when everything was going so well for her and Joshua. "And I think I will lie down for a while… just so I won't have to tell him 'no' tonight!" she added with a twinkle.

  Asa Gordon had the oddest sensation of deja vu as he reined up in Blanche Delano's front yard. The only difference was that this time the flowerpots were full of lush greenery and vibrant color. And this time, instead of freezing, he was sweating, and not just from the late June heat, either.

  How long had it been since he'd been this nervous over seeing a woman? Never, he admitted, realizing that no other woman's reaction had ever been quite so important to him. Would she be happy to see him, as Felicity had promised before he had left her house this morning, or would Blanche send him packing, as he so richly deserved? Taking a deep breath to control his anxiety, he called out.

  "Hello, the house!"

  Inside the ranch house, Blanche Delano shook her head, wondering if her ears could be playing tricks on her. Cautiously, not daring to hope, she moved toward the front door. She could see a man sitting a horse in her front yard. She told herself that he was probably a drifter looking for work. There must be hundreds of men built like Asa Gordon with deep baritone voices. But this man was dressed in a suit, as if he was going someplace very special. And then he lifted his hat to wipe the moisture from his brow, and she got a good look at his face. Her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest and her stomach seemed to drop all the way to her toes and bounce back up again. It was Asa! He had come to see
her. But why?

  The question echoed in her mind for a moment before she was able to get a grip on her emotions again. She was wasting time standing here wondering, she told herself sternly. She should go on out there and find out.

  She opened the screen door carefully and stepped onto the porch. He seemed to stiffen at the sight of her, as if he, too, was wary.

  "Well, hello, Mr. Gordon," she said, hoping her voice sounded more normal than she felt. "You're a long way from home. Not lost again, are you?"

  Asa managed a smile, even though he felt as nervous as a schoolboy with his first girl. "I hope not."

  Blanche hoped not, too, but she didn't say so. "I reckon you'd like to come in out of that hot sun. There's a nice shady spot here on the porch, if you'd like to join me," she said.

  Asa almost sighed aloud, so great was his relief at the invitation. At least he would have a chance to plead his case. As he dismounted and tethered his horse at the hitching post in front of the house, Blanche called to her maid to bring them some lemonade.

  Blanche was waiting for him when he climbed the steps to the porch. She was wearing a bright blue Mother Hubbard without corsets, in deference to the heat, and the sight of her unfettered figure made his mouth grow dry. He would be glad for some lemonade.

  "What brings you back to Texas?" she asked, crossing her arms beneath the fullness of her bosom in a defensive gesture. She needed all the protection she could get from his potent male presence. For the second time in her life she felt weak and vulnerable and intensely feminine. It was a delicious sensation, but a dangerous one, too. She would have to be careful.

  Asa stopped before her and removed his hat as he took in the smooth whiteness of her skin and the glossy ebony of her hair, but most of all the glittering emerald of her eyes. He considered telling her his real reason for coming but decided that could wait. Instead, he settled for a half truth. "The Logans invited me."

  That surprised her and irritated her just a bit. To cover her reaction, she turned and led the way over to where two cushioned wicker chairs sat in a coolly shaded spot on the porch. Why hadn't Felicity told her they had invited him or at least warned her that he was coming? Surely she must have known.