“Stay still!” he ordered.
She finally stopped fighting and settled down a tad. Slowly Ethan finished unwrapping her, almost enjoying it every time he touched her warm flesh, yet knowing when he got her loose she’d be coiled like a rattler and ready to strike at the first opportunity.
Once he pulled away almost all of the material, except for some across her hips and waist, the thought of kissing her hung heavy on his mind. Just the way she peered up at him, with dazzling white teeth and such kissable lips, made him feel what any man would feel under the circumstances. He just prayed she didn’t feel it too.
Self-restraint won out. Ethan pushed up with both arms and stared deep in her eyes.
Trying not to drag her into his arms and kiss her deliciously tempting mouth ended up being a lot more difficult than he first thought. He had to scrounge up every ounce of willpower he had in him.
Ethan had an assignment—to keep Anna safe—and that didn’t include being her lover.
Chapter 8
Anna and Ethan worked together, and it only took a short time, plus a sturdier nail, to reattach the divider separating her bed from the rest of the room.
Moments later, Anna once again settled in for the night. Fluffing her pillow for the umpteenth time, she reminded herself that she was safe and sound in her own bed, exactly where she wanted to remain until dawn.
From the edge of falling off to sleep, drifting dream clouds jerked her awake. Her thoughts were too riled up to rest. Everything from her being in the custody of one fine-looking, strapping lawman who could make her heart do summersaults with just a wink of an eye, to her concern over the flooding, rushed hither and yon in her mind.
While she tossed and turned, in the distance she heard Ethan moving every now and again.
Memories of his rock-hard body on top of hers resurfaced, sending a flame through her. Warmth she was unaccustomed to, but a sensation she could easily enjoy exploring.
For what seemed like an eternity, Anna’s feelings flittered between passion and apprehension at having to leave the security of the Palo Duro to be prosecuted for her crimes. But she could never lose sight of her promise to protect Dakota.
Emotions spiraled out of control entangling themselves with a mixture of desires and apprehension. She had wanted Ethan to kiss her but at the same time didn’t want to give in to her passion.
When they had finally untwined themselves after she fell, she knew with his lips so close to hers, he was about to kiss her, yet he pulled away. Surely he wasn’t all that chivalrous. Or was he?
Her mind continued to explore the what-ifs of his kiss. The thoughts probed and poked, keeping sleep even further at arm’s length.
Enough is enough! Anna threw back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. There was only one way to find out for sure if his kisses had matured along with the rest of his body.
In two steps she reached the edge of the curtain, where she hesitated before she lifted it back. Giving it more consideration, she eased it open to find Ethan lying on his back with his arms behind his head, eyes closed. Soft candlelight danced over his muscle-bound arms and chest.
There was no way a lawman of Ethan’s caliber hadn’t heard her slewfooting it in his direction, but if he did, he didn’t let her know.
Kneeling down she kissed him full on the lips, at first lightly, but then as he returned her kiss, it became meaningful and heart-stopping. Tenderly, he slipped his arms around her waist but didn’t pull her to him, just made sure she didn’t escape until he had his fill of her sweet, luscious mouth on his.
Anna whispered, “Thank you, Dimples,” and returned to her lonely bed.
The candle winked a final good night before it went out, as though the rain that continued to pelt down on the dugout had extinguished it. Another roll of thunder came from the west. The nothingness of darkness, deep and quiet, encompassed her. Anna drifted off into slumber.
Coming in and out of sleep, she fought through her dreams, trying to distinguish between reality and nightmares. Darkness intermitted with brilliance, creating confusion. She felt herself falling into a shaft of muted sounds, down the slippery slope of life’s occurrence she didn’t want to revisit.
Ethan sat at her kitchen table, giving her a big, sensual smile, while braiding strands of narrow rawhide, which he then quickly knotted together to make cuffs.
Without warning his smile faded, replaced with the harsh, nasty face of Gator Graves. He was so close to Anna that she could nearly choke on the smell of yesterday’s whiskey on his breath.
Belligerently, he bellowed, “See girl, ye cain’t go nowhere we cain’t find ye.” A thin trickle of spit dribbled from his mouth as he laughed.
His facial features slid away and were replaced with the face of Bradford Jackson III groping her, trying to kiss her. She fought back and screamed, “Ethan! Ethan! Ethan!” Jackson jerked away and with a wicked witch’s laugh he released her and began melting away, until he disappeared into the ground, leaving only a puddle of black nothingness.
Her frightfulness galloped along.
During daylight, the gang would ride the back trails from one heist to the next unsuspecting bank. Anna had tried to keep her mind off the pain of being hobbled like a horse who knew not to move if he got tangled in barbed wire. No matter how hard she tried, the nights weren’t any better than her fears.
After throwing a camp in some out-of-the-way spot, she would be given rations of cold beans, which, after a while, began to taste good. At least she’d had something in her stomach besides bile.
If they’d had a good haul at the bank, Arlis Buckley, who was the only one of the outlaws she wasn’t frightened of, would sneak her a piece of his hardtack or maybe a bite or two of dried beef. She had learned to eat slowly because she knew once she was finished her hands would be tied and she’d be hobbled with just enough rope for her to stretch out, but never without being uncomfortable. If it was cool, at least Arlis would give her his thread-bare blanket.
Anna felt herself tossing and turning trying to fight off her nightmares but couldn’t. On gossamer wings she was transported to a campsite along a rushing river lined by stands of cottonwoods and wild berries.
Anna lay as quiet as a church mouse with a knot in her stomach, not certain if it was from not eating or the results of the whooping Gator had given her because he blamed her that their take at the last holdup wasn’t as good as they had hoped for.
Blood coagulated on her hands from shielding herself from the whip he wielded.
Arlis suddenly appeared with a tin of salve used to tend the horses and offered it to her. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry,” the dark-bearded outlaw whispered before disappearing back into the shadows.
After the lookout kid’s pony fell due to exhaustion, she and Arlis rode double on a palomino he named Troubadour. For weeks afterward, she and the youthful outlaw forged a friendship three words at a time, but she was very cautious, realizing that if he got caught befriending her, he’d receive the same wrath handed her by Gator Graves.
Thunder or maybe gunshots, Anna couldn’t tell for sure, bolted through her.
Flashes of bright light. The brilliance and blasts came together more frequently, louder and louder.
The images in Anna’s mind became washed in red. Thunder became more intense and everything around her turned terra-cotta. The stream ran rapid with blood.
A man laid out by the undertaker came into view. Or was it an undertaker?
Another flash of light. She could see the deceased more clearly now, an expressionless face with innocent eyes full of wonderment. The face was almost hidden by a heavy beard. He wasn’t a kid, but he wasn’t a man either.
In a shaky voice, the undertaker whispered to the dearly departed, “Lie still, son.” As if he wasn’t experienced in what he was doing, he adjusted the kid’s hat to obscure his facial features.
A black cloth appeared. Not over the lifeless body, but hovered over the undertaker, who
hurried to a big, square black box. She could see more clearly now. He covered his head with the ebony material, trying to hide.
Boom . . . she heard the shot. And saw a flash of light. Lightning? But why had she heard the thunder first?
Could it be a flash from the camera?
Another boom ricocheted off the walls, followed by a louder one. Anna screamed, “No! No! No!”
Anna felt the big Cajun’s whip lash at her as she ran down the dirt street with Gator Graves and Shorty Duncan closing in on her. Flogging and whipping her all the way. Something weighed her down to the point she couldn’t move any farther. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the dead man gripped the hem of her skirt. Suddenly she realized she wasn’t the one screaming the words, “No! No! No!” It was the deceased.
A burst of light illuminated the inside of the dugout, brighter than anything Anna had ever seen.
Startled, she pulled herself along a long path until she finally came fully awake.
Grabbing her chest, she tried to calm her racing heart. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.
The dreams again! She couldn’t escape the memories that were permanently etched in her soul.
Her heart continued to pound out of control and sweat trickled between her breasts.
The same hideous nightmares again.
Night after night.
Week after week.
Month after month.
Tears rolled over her cheeks and meshed with the perspiration before settling on the thin fabric of her gown.
Another flash of lightning from the storm outside filled the air as she felt Ethan’s weight on the side of the bed. He stretched out beside her and gently gathered her in his arms.
“It’s okay, Savannah.” Ethan cradled her and softly rocked her back and forth. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you.” He wiped the tears from her face and pulled her tight against him. “It was a dream, that’s all.” He kissed her temple and pulled her even tighter. “Trust me. I’ll take care of you.”
“I do.” She was hardly able to raise her voice above a whisper. “I know it’s late, but I need to tell you some things.”
He brushed the hair from her temple and said, “Savannah, you don’t have to tell me anything. I’m in no position to judge you. I know you’re innocent, and my job is to protect you and get you back to Galveston safely.”
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, and for the first time in months, she knew unequivocally she felt secure in the arms of the man she had loved for an eternity.
Chapter 9
Anna woke up to the sun peeking through the tiny window sending catawampus patterns of dim light across the walls of the dugout. She stretched and rolled on her side and caressed the mattress where Ethan had slept. She had vaguely heard him get up at daybreak. The smell of coffee still lingered in the air.
Closing her eyes again, she knew Ethan could never be kept indoors when the sun was up. He’d told her years ago that his pa figured that the sun coming up was God’s signal to go to work.
With the storms, it wasn’t likely that Dakota had brought the horses back down to the floor of the canyon because of the mud. Knowing Ethan, she was sure he was out scouting for Dakota.
She felt ashamed of herself for sleeping in, something she hadn’t done in years. It was such a comfort to wake during the night and feel Ethan’s protective arm flopped across her middle. Each time, she’d only partially come awake until his soft snoring lulled her back to sleep. She wasn’t even sure it was snoring, but whatever it was gave her comfort that her Sir Lancelot was still there.
As much as she needed to stop lollygagging away her day, she was enjoying, for the first time in a while, not having to be afraid of every sound, every movement, every moment of the day.
The significance of her nightmares haunted her. Everything in them portrayed a part of her life, but more vivid and grotesque than in reality. It was like a real world of make-believe.
Anna didn’t want sympathy from Ethan, just acceptance, but still wasn’t all that confident with how much of her abuse and heartache she felt comfortable sharing with him. Yet it was important to her that he know some of what she’d had to endure. With his understanding, eventually she’d tell him every detail.
If recent weather was any indicator, they still had a day or so before it’d be safe to travel. Time was on her side.
Although Ethan had questions that deserved answers, she had only one for him. One that had eaten at her for years. What had been so important that he rode out of Galveston and was never seen again until the day she robbed her father’s bank? Something serious enough that made his own mother walk on the other side of the street to avoid Savannah and her family. But was it anything she needed to know right now? Wasn’t it enough that they’d found one another again and had the opportunity to rebuild their relationship? That was, if he could help her avoid prison time.
If Ethan could be as caring and gentle as he had been under the present circumstances, maybe, just maybe, they might have a future together.
Her thoughts wandered back to the night before. One thing for certain: if Ethan still felt today about her like he felt last night when he straddled her, nothing could pull them apart again—nothing.
But, in the back of her mind, she still worried about what prison life would be like. Her father, the family man he was, wouldn’t likely prosecute her once he knew the whole story about how she was trapped into participating in order to protect her family. If Gator and Shorty told the authorities even half the truth, which she doubted they were capable of doing, she could be totally exonerated for her part in the other robberies, but the reality of the severity of what she’d done lingered.
The concern that consumed her the most was her duty to shield Dakota from harm.
She wanted to enjoy the first day in a long time without rain and take pleasure in her newly found comfort level with Ethan, but regardless of what he said, they still had to have a heart-to-heart. Just like her mama and daddy used to do: have after-dinner drinks in the parlor and talk. Since there was no comfy settee in the dugout, two chairs at the kitchen table would have to do.
Jumping out of bed she threw a raggedy wrap over her gown, then hurriedly put on her mud-hardened boots before rushing outside to take in the new day.
Although there were still lots of white fluffy cumulous clouds with sagging black underbellies hanging around, the rain had been held at bay.
The birds forced to take cover by the storms had returned. The howling wind had settled to a hardy breeze, and she watched a blue jay pecking and searching for food. He flew into a mesquite bush when he detected her.
Water in the creek was now restrained between its banks but was still too dangerous to cross. The footbridge had managed to retain its integrity but obviously would require some extra support posts before it could safely hold a horse and rider.
But the biggest surprise to Anna was that the ground wasn’t still waterlogged, and the dirt had begun to dry into walkable clay.
All with nature seemed to have been equalized overnight.
She noticed Ethan’s boot prints heading off into a path she’d never explored. It was an area of open prairie with an abundance of cedar trees, mesquite, and wildflowers where feral animals and birds would find sanctuary.
Anna had never ventured far away from the dugout after the day she and Dakota came across a small black bear scurrying off to find shelter in a sandstone ledge. When she’d asked Dakota what he thought, he’d said, “Won’t hurt, won’t hurt,” but didn’t waste any time retreating back across the footbridge to safety.
As Anna now looked at the bridge, she knew they still couldn’t ride out until it was repaired, but that didn’t sadden her. She could get accustomed to spending time with the rugged lawman, at least until he had to hand her over to the authorities down South.
After tonight, she could relax and enjoy Ethan because he’d know all of her secrets . . . even the one about Dakota.
; Quickly, Anna returned to the dugout and dressed in her pants and shirt. She combed her hair and grabbed her muddy dress and petticoat, then her pantaloons. The tub was filled with rainwater and she washed her clothes, along with a couple of tea towels, then hung them on the clothesline above the washtub. The wild, West Texas wind whipped them back and forth to dry.
Anna checked the area around the lean-to, which was still under siege by mud, but no horses were in sight. She became a little uneasy about Dakota’s whereabouts. She thought for certain he’d have brought the horses back down by now.
Ethan trudged her way with a bundle slung over his shoulder. Even from a distance, she could see he was covered with red muck, not much unlike the evening before.
She waved at him. As he neared, she made out several ears of corn strung together, as well as a bird—a very big bird.
“Afternoon, sunshine.” He dropped the corn and bird at her feet and turned to the washtub. “You said if I’d kill it, you’d cook it, so here he is.” He pulled up his sleeves to begin washing up.
“I never said that, Ethan.” She looked from the dead turkey back to the lawman. “What do you want me to do with him?”
“Cook him.” His mouth twitched with amusement, as he vigorously washed his forearms. “If you start now, he’ll be tender in two or three days.” He laughed in a deep jovial way.
Disconcertedly, Anna crossed her arms and pointedly looked away, repulsed at the thought of a dead animal deliberately dropped at her feet. Apparently, Ethan thought it more humorous than she did.
“Found him eatin’ in a corn patch over yonder.” Ethan nodded in the direction he’d come from.
“I didn’t know there was any corn or I’d already have been out there gathering it.” She took two steps back.
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