by Stacey Kayne
Tucker sat by the fire watching the friendly exchange, certain that if he'd have wrapped his arms around Skylar or even suggested such a thing, she would have socked him in the nose. He decided he'd be better off keeping his mouth shut and his hands to himself. She obviously didn't know how to take a compliment anyhow.
Every time one of them made the slightest positive remark about her cooking, her pretty face turned ten shades of pink. The woman acted as though she'd never received a compliment. For some reason, that bugged the hell out of him.
Grabbing his long coat from the ground, Tucker stood and went to start his night watch. Being so close to Skylar was hell on his mind and damn hard on his body.
Shimmering rays of moonlight streaked through the trees from a full moon overhead as Tucker started through the woods, toward camp. Hoping there was coffee still on the fire, he'd left his horse in the clearing with the herd. His breath streamed out before him in white, misty plumes as he shoved his gloved hands into his jacket pockets.
He didn't know what was more exhausting, the change in altitude and temperature, the rigorous pace Skylar insisted on keeping or his growing attraction for a woman who acted as though she hated him. Yet, she had watched his mouth in a way that told him she was more interested in him tasting her than her beans.
He'd actually managed to catch Skylar with her guard down, and her response to him was anything but hateful. If Garret hadn't come running into camp, she would have let him kiss her. But he didn't know what that meant, if anything at all.
And I don't need to find out, he curtly reminded himself. He'd promised Chance he would keep his hands off her.
"Sonuvabitch"
He paused, hearing the softly spoken curse. He was still a good fifty yards from camp. When another curse followed, he decided to investigate. He walked only a short distance before finding Skylar in a small clearing, bathed in moonlight.
His heart leaped into his throat at the sight of her. She sat on her knees in the pool of her gray skirt, with her light blue waist puddled on the ground behind her. Silver moonlight illuminated golden hair brushing her beautiful bare shoulders and the ivory skin of her slender back.
He began tugging his gloves from his hands as he silently stalked toward her, fully aware she hadn't sensed his presence, her focus on the binding she was trying to wrap across her shoulder and around her back. Her curses drifted through the tall pines as she fumbled with the clean binding that didn't appear to be cooperating.
"Need a hand?" he asked, shoving his gloves into his jacket pocket as he knelt behind her.
Skylar's head whipped around. Her warm breath curled out into the cold night air in a burst of white clouds. Startled, she nearly turned to face him, but quickly thought better of it, clamping the long piece of cloth to her breasts as she put her back to him. Wide blue eyes peered up at him over a lily-white shoulder. "W-w-what are you—"
"I was heading to camp for some coffee when I heard a foul-mouthed forest critter cursing from the bushes." He smiled, ignoring the surprise in her eyes, and trying to ignore the heated stir of his body as he reached over her shoulder to take the end of the binding she hadn't managed to wrap around herself. Skylar immediately jerked away from him.
"Let me help you."
"No. I don't need any help."
"You'll catch your death from the cold before you get that long cloth wrapped around you. I won't peek at you, Sky. Now toss that binding over your shoulder or I'm going to reach over and get it."
"Tucker—"
Her breath rushed from her lungs as his hand took the binding. "Keep that patch in place," he said, spotting the thick pad of cloth she was holding against her sutures. "Lift your arms, angel," he instructed as he reached around her. Trembling, she did as he asked. He leaned forward, passing the cloth to his other hand, and breathing in the strong sweet scent of her. The discomfort in his britches doubled as the floral scent curled around his senses and clouded his mind.
She smells incredible. He'd been a fool to buy her scented soap. If he dipped his head just a fraction, he could taste that sweet, petal-soft skin. But if he did that, she'd find his hands moving over her body instead of the cloth and they'd both end up with their bare skin exposed to the frosty night air; not that they'd be cold.
Wrapping the cloth over her left shoulder, then back across her front, his wrist accidentally brushed the tip of a strained nipple. Tucker heard the quake in Skylar's breath, and felt a sweat break out over his entire body. "Relax. I'm not trying to take advantage of you," he said, reassuring her as much as himself, and being extra careful not to touch anything he shouldn't with his next pass.
Skylar knew she was shaking something awful, but was powerless to stop the shivering. The night air is cold, she reasoned, yet the moment she watched Tucker kneel behind her, the crisp mountain air had been suddenly replaced by midday Arizona heat. Her skin burned. Her overly sensitive breast still sizzled from Tucker's light touch.
After one more pass around her body, he tucked the end of the binding in behind her left shoulder. "Slip an arm in here, honey," he said in a deep whisper.
From the corner of her eye, Skylar saw that Tucker was holding her waist out for her. Unable to get a word past her dry throat, she shoved her arms into the sleeves. As she pulled the sides closed, she heard Tucker stand, his boots scuffing the ground as he turned away from her. When she glanced over her shoulder, nothing stood behind her but dark shadows and streaks of silver moonlight.
Her shaky hands quickly fastened the row of buttons. She took a few moments to catch her breath—which wasn't easy.
After several deep, controlled breaths, she picked up her camisole from the ground in front of her and stood, feeling none too steady on her feet. "He must have lightning in his veins," she muttered. She turned and ran right into Tucker's large body.
Skylar shrieked and stumbled back. Tucker reached out, grabbing her by the wrist to steady her.
"You're gonna wake the whole mountainside," he said in a low voice laced with amusement.
"You scared the life out of me, creeping up on me like that. Again."
"I didn't creep nowhere. You were breathing so hard, you wouldn't have heard me if I had skipped up behind you."
His smug, smiling face did wonders to ease her start. The skin of her wrist tingling beneath his warm fingers, she jerked it from his gentle grasp.
"Here," he said, thrusting a brown package toward her.
"What's this?" she asked, accepting the paper-bound parcel.
"Levi's, a flannel shirt and long underwear. I had mentioned that I'd picked them up for you. I just forgot to give them to you."
She recalled him mentioning the denims and shirt, but he hadn't mentioned long underwear. "Thanks," she said, hugging the package tight against her stomach which refused to stop flip-flopping as he gazed down at her. She stepped around him and hurried toward camp before she could embarrass herself further.
"Good night, Skylar," he called after her.
Hardly. She increased her strides, pretending not to hear him, knowing she'd never get any sleep now.
Chapter 12
The cove of rock made a perfect corral. Surrounded by high cliffs of dirt and granite, the horses grazed leisurely on patches of tall grass. With the only entrance to the secluded meadow roped off, and camp just a few yards away, nothing would be going in or out without their notice.
Skylar smiled in approval and tucked her gloves into her back pocket as she turned toward camp. They'd all be getting some sleep tonight.
"Hey, Sky!" Garret shouted excitedly from beyond the tall pines he and the Morgans had walked through. "Come look at this river. It's wide as a lake!"
A lake huh?
She'd stood downwind of Garret a few times earlier in the day, and although he washed up a bit before each meal, her little brother and his clothes were well overdue for a good scrubbing. After traveling through the high country for a few days, the fall climate of these lower ranges felt like
springtime.She reached into her saddlebag and withdrew a bar of soap bound in a white cloth and started toward the veil of pines on the edge of the grassy meadow. She'd have her own laundry to wash later. Thanks to the second pair of denims Tucker had given her, she no longer had to wear her dress. As much as she liked the gray skirt and blue waist, all that flapping fabric had been downright cumbersome and inconvenient in the saddle. But beneath her men's work clothes, she took secret pleasure in her soft, feminine underclothes. She'd found a second pair with the denims and flannel Tucker had bought for her.
As she cleared the trees, she saw Garret, Tucker and Chance standing atop a large bolder, looking over the edge at a swollen gentle stretch of the river.
"You think it's deep enough to jump in from up here?" Garret was asking as Skylar stepped out onto the giant rock.
"Why don't you find out," Tucker answered, and shoved Garret over the edge.
"You sure the kid can swim, Tuck?" Chance asked offhandedly as Garret splashed into the clear, deep water below.
Tucker's eyes surged wide. With a muffled curse, he tossed off his hat and dived over the edge after Garret.
Skylar laughed out loud, reaching the edge in time to see Tucker's boots disappear beneath the water. Chance glanced over at her, his emerald eyes twinkling with amusement.
"You know Garret can swim," she said.
Chance shrugged his broad shoulders. "Apparently Tuck doesn't."
The sound of laughter and splashes echoed up from below, assuring them neither Tucker or Garret were too disappointed about swimming in their boots and britches.
"Figures they'd enjoy it," said Chance.
Skylar glanced up at the man beside her, surprised by the blatant affection she heard in his tone.
"Little brothers, huh?" he said as he met her gaze. "Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em." Grinning, he winked at her.
The casual response was so much like Tucker, it stunned her, reminding her that the two men truly were identical.
Chance knelt down and picked up Tucker's hat then started down the cliff tapering to the rocky shoreline. Skylar stared at his retreating back for a moment before following him down the hillside. Her eyes moved over his strong body.
A mirror image of Tucker, Chance was no less attractive and far less annoying, yet she didn't feel the volatile mixture of sensations that crowded her body when Tucker was near. She liked Chance, had worked closely with him in the past few weeks, but his touch didn't make her skin tingle. Strange, that the man she could hardly stand was the one who caused her body to go haywire.
"Since we're needing to restock our supplies," Chance said as they neared the base of the cliff, "Tuck and I thought this would be a good spot to spend an extra night. Someone could ride into the nearest settlement tomorrow for supplies."
Skylar released a hard sigh, not wanting to give up a full day of travel, but knowing she had to. They were running low on nearly everything, and the horses could use a full day of rest and grazing. "Sounds good," she agreed.
"Liar," Chance shot back at her.
Skylar smiled. She wondered again why she wasn't physically attracted to Chance. His no-nonsense attitude and rugged work ethic was far more in tune with her own.
"Do you want to be the one to head into town?" he asked:
"I'd rather not. How about I write up a list of supplies?"
Chance nodded in agreement and continued toward the river's edge. Tucker and Garret were still floundering in the water. Garret's white hair surfaced, his lungs pulling for breath. Tucker shot up in a spray of water beside him and dunked Garret back under.
Garret resurfaced, laughing wildly as he latched onto Tucker's strong shoulders and did his best to push the much larger man under the water.
Garret's laughter filled Skylar's chest with a warmth she was becoming more and more accustomed to feeling. Having someone to horse around with had done wonders to rekindle the youthfulness Skylar liked to see in her little brother, and he and Tucker did plenty of horsing around. There had been a definite change in the chemistry between all of them. She supposed everyone was becoming accustomed to one another and feeling less on edge, but Skylar wasn't sure that was a change for the good.
She had to keep reminding herself that she had a job to do, and being friendly with the Morgans didn't mean they wouldn't up and claim the horses they had intended to buy.
The sound of Tucker's deep laughter captured her attention. Garret waded toward shore. Behind him, Tucker stood waist-deep in water, his thin cotton shirt plastered to his firm body. The muscles in his arms flexed beneath the blue fabric as he pushed his hands through his wet hair.
She quickly shifted her gaze back to Garret, annoyed by Tucker's effortless ability to fluster her.
"Here," she said, tossing Garret the bar of soap wrapped in a cloth as he waded toward her. "Might as well wash up while you're wet. Scrub those clothes while you're at it."
"Remember when we swam in that underground lake in Arizona, Sky?"
Skylar climbed onto a nearby boulder and sat down. She crossed her arms over the dusty chaps covering her knees. "Yeah, I remember," she said, recalling one of the few times they'd sneaked off while they were supposed to be working.
"I thought you were gonna be furious with Duce for tossing you into the water like he did."
Skylar smiled at the memory.
They'd been scouting for horses when Garret and Duce, a wiry horse wrangler and a man she'd considered a good friend, had discovered the cavern with a clear green pool hidden inside. It didn't take much to convince her to escape the Arizona heat and spend the afternoon splashing and swimming. She closed her eyes, silently praying Duce hadn't been killed by Randal.
"How long ago was that?" asked Tucker, his rich voice intruding on Skylar's thoughts.
"Last year," Garret answered.
Hearing a thud, Skylar opened her eyes and looked down at the rocks beside her. Tucker's wet clothes were sprawled across them. Without thinking, her eyes darted up and sought him out. Her gaze locked on glistening bronze skin.
She had been exposed to a fair number of bare chests, but nothing so spectacular as the male body moving toward her. Droplets of water caught in the golden hair of Tucker's torso sparkled in the sunlight as he waded closer to shore. His broad chest tapered down to narrow hips. Each movement flexed the hard rippling muscles. Her eyes followed the thin trail of gold hair across the center line of his body, until it disappeared beneath the veil of shimmering water.
"Toss me that soap, would you, Garret?" he called out, shaking her from the trancelike state. Her gaze moved back up his body. Tucker flashed a mischievous grin, and Skylar lost her ability to breathe. He wasn't wearing anything beneath the shimmering water. Another step and...
Feeling a blush from her face to her toes, Skylar jumped up and turned away from the river.
"Hey, you don't have to rush off," Tucker called after her.
He grinned, watching her fast retreat. He hadn't planned on coming any farther out of the river, but it was just as well that she'd gone. Too much more of watching the approval in her smoldering eyes as she soaked up her fill of him would have kept his overheated body in this cold river till dark.
"You do like to goad that woman, don't you, Tuck?"
Tucker glanced up at his brother reclined on a large boulder near the edge of the water. "She makes it too easy. Sometimes she reminds me of Cora Mae."
"Now there's a name I haven't heard in a long while," Chance said as he laid back, folding his arms under his head.
"Who's Cora Mae?" asked Garret, busily shucking his own clothes.
"Pure mischief," said Chance, "packaged in a pint-size body and topped with wild orange hair. And a set of big brown eyes camouflaged by such sweet innocence, you could have a gaping hole in your chest, Cora Mae standing before you with a smoking gun, and you'd still not believe she pulled the trigger."
Tucker chuckled, saying, "She's our stepsister. We haven't seen her in some fiftee
n years. She must be a full-grown woman by now."
"And most likely a self-absorbed, high-society bitch," Chance said in a cold tone. "Just like her mother."
"Winifred sure would have had her work cut out for her if she managed to refine the mulish tomboy who used to go for late-night swims and have mud wars with us on the riverbank."
"She also tattled to her mamma when the mood struck her, knowing we'd get whupped."
"She was nine," Tucker said with a shrug. "I liked Cora Mae. So did you," he reminded Chance. They had both felt real guilty about leaving their stepsister behind, but she was Winifred's daughter. They'd already had more trouble hanging over their heads than they knew how to handle. Kidnapping was not another charge they'd needed against them.
"I liked her well enough when she was nine," Chance said as he tipped his hat forward to shade his face from the late-afternoon sun. "But you know what they say—the apple never falls far from the tree. And her family tree don't grow nothin' but sour crab apples."
Tucker looked away from his brother napping on the boulder, his mind refusing to give up thoughts that didn't have a thing to do with their stepsister. Knowing he was a fool to ask, he tossed the soap to Garret after the boy dived back into the water. "So, this guy Duce I keep hearing mentioned, was he murdered the same evening as your pa?"
"Sky told me they had him tied up," Garret said, scrubbing the white bar of soap over his skinny arms. "She was thinkin' Randal probably needed him and the others to help with the horses. I sure hope she's right."
"Maybe that was a cover and he was in with Randal. Had he been working with your outfit long?"
"Two years," Garret said, whipping his stone-serious gaze toward Tucker. "He wouldn't betray us. Me and Sky were closer to Duce than we was to anybody. He'd never hurt us."
"How old is he?" Tucker asked, the boy's answers not doing a damn thing to ease the tension he felt building inside him.
"Probably around the same age as you," Garret said before dunking his soaped-up hair into the water.
"Hell, if she's got a beau headed for Wyoming," Chance called out from his rocky perch, "you won't have to worry about her finding a man. But you might have some heavy explaining to do."
