Relief flooded her as his heart settled into a steady, strong rhythm. He was going to live. As the quiet seeped into her, she became aware that she was still wrapped around the stranger, her legs straddling his hips. Heat washed through her again. In her mind she heard the lecturing voices of her adoptive parents. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to banish the memory of the Reverend’s preaching, but the words wouldn’t stop. Jezebel, he’d called her. Nothing but a sinner damned for eternity.
Tears stung Rachel’s eyes. She wasn’t like her mother, yet here she was, lying across a man not her husband. Ashamed of her reaction to a complete stranger, she tried to slide off him, but his hands wrapped around her waist and held her in place. She stilled, not wanting to wake him. She would just rest a minute until he was more deeply asleep.
Weariness swamped her. She fought to stay awake, but the night finally caught up with her. Snuggling closer to his increasing warmth, Rachel drifted off to sleep with her head on his chest and his heartbeat in her ear.
CHAPTER TWO
Where am I? Jake lay still and took stock of his surroundings. He was definitely inside a structure. Though the air was ripe with the scent of animals, he didn’t think he was in a barn.
Something lay across his body, holding him in place. He listened for the sounds of people, footsteps, whispered words. Nothing. The silence was broken only by the shifting of a log in the fire. If anyone stood watch, he couldn’t hear them.
Taking care not to give away the fact he was awake, he opened his eyes a slit. He could see out of the right one, but the left eye was blurry and swollen nearly shut, thanks to a lucky punch from that murdering pack of thieves that jumped him.
How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was dragging himself through a raging blizzard after Harrison and his men had beaten the holy hell out of him. Now the scents of animals, wood smoke, and lavender surrounded him.
Glancing down, he found the source of the lavender. A woman lay stretched out on top of him. Silky blond hair the color of the summer sun ran in a river across her shoulder and onto his bare chest. Her forehead was smooth and she had a small nose that turned up a little at the end. Long lashes a little darker than her hair fanned across the milky skin of her cheeks. In spite of his battered body, he had a sudden strong desire to taste that skin.
He shook his head to clear it and bit back a curse as the movement shot pain through his skull. In a rush, the memories of the previous day returned. And so did the agony. Besides his head and face, they must have landed a few boots to his ribs. His side burned like hell-on-fire.
Taking shallow breaths to ease the pain, he looked around. The rising sun glowed around the edges of the window shutters. He couldn’t see a guard, but he hadn’t really expected to find one. If Harrison was around, a half-dozen guns would have finished the job they’d started last night.
He turned his head a little to one side and located the source of the smoke. A poorly built red-stone chimney staggered in drunken lines all the way to the whitewashed ceiling. Whoever had built it must have been working his way through a jug of moonshine at the same time. The floor was probably plank since he didn’t smell dust, but all he felt beneath his fingers was wool and the give of a straw mattress.
He rolled his head to the other side, stretching aching muscles. The room wasn’t large, but it was well-kept. There was a curtained doorway behind him and stairs in the far corner led to an attic or second floor. Plenty of places for someone to hide. He’d check them out, as soon as he could coax his battered body to move.
A sturdy rocker was pulled up close to the warmth of the fire. There weren’t any fancy things lying around. A small plank table with benches down both sides separated the kitchen from this side of the room, but the table was bare except for a couple of books and a guttered candle. Nothing to give a hint of where he was or who’d taken him in.
He looked to the other side of the room and blinked his good eye to clear his vision. It didn’t help. In the far corner, he thought he saw two goats, four chickens in dilapidated cages, and his horse. There were animals inside the house.
Where was he? If Harrison or his men had found him, he’d be toes down in the snow. He must have stumbled on this place and whoever lived here had taken him in. By the feel of it, he’d been stripped down to what God gave him. His gaze returned to the woman lying across him.
A smile curved one corner of his mouth. Wherever here was, he liked the company. He reached for her, but his left arm wouldn’t move. Concerned, he tried again. If he could only draw one weapon, he needed to know. Of course, since he was stark naked on the floor, it didn’t matter a whole hell of a lot at the moment.
Giving up, he used only his right hand. Careful not to wake her, Jake searched for more of her softness and found cotton. She had a sweetly feminine shape buried under layers of cloth. Running his hand down the silken hair, he found her rounded bottom exactly where he’d hoped. He pressed her center to his rapidly hardening one, and couldn’t resist shifting his hips a little.
The groan of pain slipped out before he could stop it. Everything hurt, even his skin. A tiny sound brought his gaze back to the woman. Brilliant blue, the color of a clear mountain lake reflecting the sky, stared back at him.
A blush stained her cheekbones and she looked away. “You’re awake,” she whispered.
In more ways than one. “Good morning, ma’am.”
She moved, presumably to get off him, but the brush of cloth against his skin burned like fire. He grabbed her arms to hold her still.
“Let me up, Mr. McCain.”
“Just a second. Let me—”
He broke off at the sound of a revolver being cocked.
“Let her go!” The blond boy was young, but the gun he held was loaded. Jake recognized his own Colt Army revolver in the boy’s shaking hands. How the hell had the kid managed to sneak into the room without Jake hearing him?
“Nathan!”
“Point that somewhere else,” Jake growled. “Unless you intend to shoot her.”
“I said let her go!”
Jake pinned the boy with a glare. “I’m trying.”
“He’s not holding me here, Nathan. Put that gun down immediately. You know how I hate the things.” Blondie sounded like one used to being obeyed. The boy’s aim wavered before he dropped the muzzle toward the floor.
Jake released the woman and she scrambled to her feet, taking the blankets with her. The cold air shocked him, but at least it numbed some of the pain. He snagged a pile of gray wool to cover himself. It turned out to be a dress. Now, didn’t he look wonderful, lying on a cold floor, beaten black and blue and wearing a dress?
Gritting his teeth, Jake sat up, keeping his lap covered the best he could. “Some pants would be helpful, ma’am.”
“Oh, I...” Blondie looked flustered and the blush returned to her cheeks. She hurried around him to the fire. “They seem to be dry. So is your shirt.” She turned toward him, then looked away again and held his clothes out at arm’s length in his general direction. “Nathan will help you. I need to, um...” Brilliant red flushed her cheeks. She bit her lip and hurried from the room, thrusting the garments into her brother’s arms as she passed.
“What got into her?” The boy stared after her.
He was as blond as the woman, but that was the only thing similar Jake could see. The boy’s eyes were light brown and round, where her blue ones had a slight tilt at the corner. “Give me my gun.” The boy held it out butt first, which would have made Jake happy except the thing was still cocked and ready to fire. “Son, don’t ever pull the hammer back unless you intend to shoot, and for damn sure don’t turn the thing on yourself when it’s primed.”
The boy looked confused, as if he’d never handled a gun before. When his eyes dropped to the floor, Jake saw hurt, too.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry I pulled a gun on you.”
Jake eased the hammer forward and laid the pistol aside, near his right hand. “You d
id what was needed to protect someone you love. Can’t ask more than that from a man.”
The boy, Nathan, she’d called him, looked up again, a little pride in his eyes at begin called a man. “Can you stand?”
The question brought Jake back to the problem at hand. “I can try.” Taking a deep breath, he rolled off the mattress to his knees and shoved himself to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain. Swaying in place, he gripped the wool dress in front of him like the garment would help him stay upright.
“Here.” Nathan shoved the rocking chair close and Jake fell into it.
“Damn,” he breathed.
“Hurts, I imagine. You were really banged up when you got here, and we don’t know how long you were out in the storm.”
“Almost too long.” Jake rested his head against the back of the chair.
“Yeah, we figured that out real quick.” He shook out Jake’s pants. “Let’s get some clothes on you so Sis can come back and make her tonic. It tastes awful, but it’ll help a lot.”
The boy’s wrinkled up face left little doubt about the taste of the concoction. Even though the light of morning barely illuminated the room, the thought of a shot of whiskey appealed to Jake a lot more than some fancy tea. But he’d take what he could get.
With Nathan’s help, Jake got both legs into the pants. He managed to stay on his feet long enough to pull them up and fasten a couple of the buttons. The shirt made his skin burn everywhere it touched. Exhausted, he gave up trying to stuff the shirttail into his trousers and dropped back into the rocker.
“Sis,” Nathan called. “You can come out, now. He’s decent.”
The young woman had dressed in dark blue wool. The collar came up to her chin and the hem brushed the floor. A starched white apron blanketed the skirt. The dress was too large for her, gathering in heavy folds around her shoulders and waist, hiding what he knew to be a fine figure.
Her long hair was wrapped and pinned in a tight knot at the base of her skull. It seemed like a pretty severe style for a woman her age, but what did he know of women’s fashion?
“He needs your tonic.” Nathan added wood to the fire.
“I imagine so,” she answered, never once looking his way. “Would you light the stove, please?”
“Already did.” The boy grinned to have anticipated her request.
“Is the kettle filled?”
He sagged. “I didn’t think about checking that.”
“That’s all right. There’s probably enough water left from last night. Why don’t you look and see.”
Evidently, he found enough for her concoction. When the water boiled, Nathan wrapped a cloth around the hot handle and carried the kettle to her. A couple of minutes later, the boy delivered a cup to Jake. The heat burned his hands, but the biting scent of whiskey drifted up with the steam, improving his mood considerably.
“The tonic is a recipe of my mother’s,” Blondie explained. “Nathan and I usually only have half a cup, but I thought you could use a bit more.”
“Thank you. I’m obliged, Mrs.—”
“Hudson. Rachel Hudson. And this is my brother, Nathan.”
Jake glanced at her left hand. Her ring finger was bare. “Where’s Mr. Hudson?”
“There is no Mr. Hudson, just Nathan and me.”
It made sense. He doubted a married woman would have been that embarrassed by his nakedness.
Looking forward to the jolt of whiskey, he took a mouthful of the scalding brew and choked. The liquor didn’t quite hide the taste.
“What kind of poison did you put in here?” Coughing, he looked up and forgot the question. Her smile faded quickly, but that ray of sunshine pierced him to the core.
Jake concentrated on the tonic in his hands. How the hell could a woman who looked like she did, with a smile that could light up the heavens, manage to stay unmarried in this godforsaken patch of country?
“It’s a blend of herbs and tea. The whiskey is mostly to get you warm.”
“It’ll do that.” He took another, more cautious sip. “How did I get here?”
Rachel frowned. “I don’t know. You’d been out in the storm for some time, if the ice on your clothes and horse were any indication.”
“Long enough,” Jake confirmed.
“You stumbled onto the porch sometime after midnight. I heard you hit the door and when I opened it, you fell in. You were unconscious and much too heavy for me to get inside. Fortunately, you hadn’t let go of the reins.”
“Pardon me?” He flexed his arms, stretching sore muscles.
“You had a death grip on your horse’s reins, and when he came into the room, so did you. I don’t know how we would have moved you, otherwise.”
“Yeah,” Nathan chimed in. “You’re heavy.”
If Griffin had dragged him around awhile, it would explain why he could barely lift his left arm. He tried moving it again. He had to go after Harrison and his men, and he needed both hands working.
“Are you really a Texas Ranger? Honest?”
Jake looked over at Nathan. In the boy’s eyes he saw the same eagerness he’d once felt for his job. But that wide-eyed innocence was long dead. “It isn’t all that wonderful, boy.”
His tone was rougher than he’d intended. Nathan looked hurt. Jake started to apologize, but Rachel didn’t give him a chance.
“There’s no need to speak to him like that. He was only asking a question.”
“You’re right, ma’am.” Jake looked back to Nathan. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, son. Guess they hit my head harder than I thought. It banged some of my manners clean out.” He tried to smile at the boy, but his battered lip split open again. “Ow!”
“That must really hurt a lot.” Nathan forgave with the swiftness of youth. Coming closer, he studied Jake’s face. “I busted my lip once, falling off the wagon.” His voice dropped to a confiding level. “That’s how we found out Sis can’t stand the sight of blood. She took one look at me and fainted clean away.” He grinned, transforming his face into the image of hers.
“It isn’t the least bit humorous,” Rachel scolded, then took the starch from her words by laughing.
The sound shot lightning down his spine. His body’s reaction was swift. Jake shifted in the rocker, trying to conceal the evidence.
Rachel went back to rolling and cutting biscuits for breakfast, while Nathan started on his chores. The boy swept up dirty straw from the makeshift corral, and dipped water from a large barrel into buckets for the animals. Jake considered checking on his horse, but he wasn’t sure he could stay upright even if he managed to get to his feet. He had to be satisfied with watching Nathan check him over.
“What’s his name?” Nathan asked the question as he tossed fresh straw around the floor.
“Griffin.”
Nathan stared at Jake. “That’s a funny name for a horse.”
“Nathan.” Rachel admonished him without looking up.
“Well, I’ve never heard a horse called anything like that.” He brushed the straw from his hands and shirt. “Why’d you call him Griffin?”
“It’s my favorite creature from Greek mythology. My father read a couple of stories to me when I was a lot younger than you. I guess some of it stuck with me.”
“What’s Greek myth-lologee?” Nathan stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
“Mythology.” Rachel pronounced it clearly. “They are fables—stories—written many centuries ago by the people who lived in a country called Greece.”
“What’s a griffin?”
“A creature that’s half eagle and half lion,” Jake explained. “Since Griffin there can run like the wind and is as fierce and loyal as they come, I figured it fit.”
Nathan’s browed furrowed as he digested the information, then cleared when he smiled again. “I like Griffin. It’s a good name.”
He went back to his chores, practicing the new word under his breath. Once he’d put hay in a makeshift trough for the goats and horse, he went to
gather eggs. A moment later, he whooped with joy and held several eggs aloft.
“Cake!”
Rachel glanced over her shoulder, a smile lighting her face. Jake stared, mesmerized. How could a simple curving of lips turn a pretty girl into a stunning woman?
She seemed unaware of her transformation. “Which ones?”
“Bathsheba and Moses, I think, but it could have been David.” Nathan carried them to Rachel like they were the finest crystal. She wiped them off and set them aside. He counted them one last time before returning to the corral to clean out the chickens’ cages.
Jake released the breath he held and hauled in another one, cooling his blood a little before he tried to talk. “Moses?”
Rachel glanced over her shoulder at him. “Nathan named the chickens. Moses, who ‘delivers us’ at least two eggs every day. David is the big white hen that rules the roost, but can’t stand to be separated from Bathsheba, the big red one. And the rooster is Solomon, because he’ll try to split you in two if you get close enough.”
Jake shook his head, then stiffened as laughter caught at his abused ribs.
“Are you all right?” Rachel watched him, her hands covered in flour.
“I will be. Nothing’s broken, but they hurt like hell-on-fire. Begging your pardon, ma’am.” He swallowed more of the tonic and changed the subject. “Doesn’t it matter that Moses and David are females?”
“Not to Nathan.”
He nodded. If the boy wanted to name the hens after men, so be it. “Why the excitement over a few eggs?”
“Because I promised him that every time he found five eggs I’d make his favorite cake.”
“Does he share?”
Rachel turned to answer him with a smile. “With a Texas Ranger? Of course.”
Jake felt his grin freeze and fade. For a minute, just one blessed minute, he’d forgotten. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where am I?”
Rachel stared at him, confusion evident on her face. He knew he’d sounded rougher than he should, but he couldn’t find the words to apologize.
Texas Gold Page 3
