Mustang Wild

by Stacey Kayne

  "All I saw was you in the path of those stumbling mares, risking your life over a damn mule!"

  "That damn mule would have tripped every horse that—"

  "7b hell with the horses! Yon nearly got yourself killed!"

  Skylar flinched at his hard tone. Tucker shut his eyes and strived to regain a shred of control. Even as he told himself she was in his arms, safe and unharmed, he couldn't force himself to ease his hold. She could have died and he couldn't have done a damn thing to save her!

  "You ever do anything like that again," he managed to say in a milder tone, "and I swear I'll..."

  Skylar felt his shudder, saw the wash of emotion in his eyes, just before he took her mouth in a hard kiss.

  The realization that he'd been afraid for her dissolved her defenses. His kiss softened, and Skylar decided she liked his idea of punishment. Threading her fingers into the damp hair at his collar she returned his fervent kiss, smiling as he groaned in response and held her tighter still.

  "You'll kiss me?" she breathed against his lips when they paused for breath.

  "You'll wish," he said, his expression completely void of humor. "How's your shoulder?"

  "It's fine." Her wet skin was too darn cold to feel any pain, a chill that was fading with every passing second of being wrapped in Tucker's arms. But standing in the rain wasn't going to help dry her clothes, and kissing Tucker wouldn't get the work done.

  "If you've finished scolding me, we need to start setting up camp so we can get out of this rain."

  "In a minute," he grumbled, nuzzling her cheek, holding her with a fierceness that was as comforting as it was confusing. As minutes passed, she could feel the tension slowly leaving his body. There was a distinct shift in the pressure of his hands on her back. Her breath caught as Tucker's teeth grazed her ear.

  "Time's up." She broke away from the sensual embrace and turned in the direction of camp, forcing herself to start walking while she still had the strength to do so.

  Chapter 21

  Raindrops pelted Tucker's back as he staked his white mustang beneath the light shelter of aspens. With the collar of his long coat flipped up and his hat tugged low, he had managed to stay reasonably dry.

  He glanced through the veil of falling raindrops toward the tarpaulin Skylar and Garret had stretched between four neighboring trees so that Skylar could start a fire. They would all be crowded under that flap of canvas for the remainder of the evening, which meant he wouldn't be getting any more time alone with her. He looked forward to that little bit of time more than he wanted to admit.

  Frowning, he started toward the shelter. He stepped beside his brother as he ducked beneath the heavy tarpaulin. Noticing Chance's odd expression, Tucker followed his wide-eyed gaze, which collided with Skylar, on her knees beside the small fire she'd started. She had dug a pit and already had the wild turkey Garret had shot early in the day roasting over the low flames. Her rain-soaked shirt revealed the tight, rosy-tipped evidence of her chill. Skylar obviously didn't realize her wet clothes were practically see-through, or that Chance was presently taking advantage of the view. He had no right to gape at her! Tucker stepped in front of his brother, blocking his view as he shrugged off his long coat. He began to unbutton his heavy wool shirt as he walked toward Skylar. Stepping behind her, he pulled off the thick shirt and draped it over her shoulders.

  Focused on the turkey, Skylar looked up at him with wide eyes. "Tucker?"

  "Look down, honey," he whispered near her ear.

  "Oh!"

  Tucker smiled at her look of surprise as she straightened away from the fire and quickly shoved her arms into the sleeves of his shirt. When he began to fasten the buttons, she slapped his hands away.

  "Thanks, Tuck. I can handle the buttons." Her cheeks flushed as she turned away from him to finish closing the long shirt.

  "What do you have stuffed up that bird?" Chance asked, now crouched on the opposite side of the fire, his expression full of perplexity as he inspected the herbs sticking out the back end of the turkey.

  It occurred to Tucker that Chance's gaze may not have been fixed on Skylar, but on their supper.

  "Thyme and rosemary," Skylar answered as she knelt beside the warmth of the fire.

  "Looks like weeds," Chance said, lifting his skeptical gaze to Skylar.

  "It'll taste good," she assured him.

  "I don't doubt it." Chance straightened, his lips quirked in a grin. "If I'd known all it took was a bullet in your shoulder to have us eating so good, I would have shot you myself back in New Mexico."

  Tucker never knew a woman who blushed so much. Or a woman half as stubborn, he thought, seeing the fine trembling of Skylar's body. She was chilled to the bone.

  "I'm gonna check on a couple mares I saw limping," Chance said, turning to leave.

  "Right behind you," Tucker answered, but kept his gaze locked on Skylar as he shrugged his coat back on. "Honey, you're soaked from head to toe."

  "I'm fine." Her gaze flickered past him before meeting his gaze. The wariness in her expression told him Chance was still standing behind him. Tucker didn't give a damn.

  "I'm starting to wonder at your definition of fine" he said as he reached down, took her by the arm and hauled her up. "You're going to catch pneumonia in those wet clothes. Garret finished putting up your tent. Grab your gear and go change into something dry, I can watch over the bird and the fire."

  "Only clean thing I have is the skirt and—"

  "Go get it on," he instructed, ushering her away from the fire as she tried to dig her heels in the ground.

  "Tuck, I need to—"

  "No arguments." Gripping her shoulders, he turned her toward the packs and saddles piled on the far side of the shelter. "Go change into something dry before you catch your death."

  She glanced over her shoulder, her expression full of annoyance, then walked toward their gear and pulled her saddlebags from the pile. Tucker watched as she stepped from the tarpaulin cover and darted toward her tent.

  "You sure that judge wasn't in Greeley."

  Tucker met Chance's sober gaze. "Yes, I'm sure. Skylar wouldn't have let me out of that town without an annulment if he had been."

  "You two seem to be on particularly good terms lately, and that quarrel in the woods sure sounded like a bickering married couple."

  "Just because she hasn't been at my throat day and night doesn't mean she's not anxious to be rid of me. We'll get the annulment."

  Chance lowered his gaze, frowning at the ground for a moment before he shook his head and turned away. "Don't burn our supper," he said in a warning tone, and stepped back out into the rain.

  A short while later Skylar appeared beneath the shelter, dressed in her wrinkled gray skirt and his long wool shirt buttoned up over her waist. Judging by the fullness of her skirt bulging out beneath his green shirt, she'd pulled on all five petticoats. She hadn't worn the dress since the night he'd given her the new pair of Levi's. He couldn't say he blamed her. All those layers had seemed a cumbersome hassle in the saddle. Not that her attire made any difference to Tucker. She was just as stunning in her denims and chaps.

  "Feel better?" he asked.

  Skylar dropped to her knees beside him. The moment she had stripped off her wet clothing and pulled on her first petticoat she had felt quite thankful of Tucker's insistence. "Yes " she admitted, and snatched her fork from his hand. "Now move aside, you're burning our supper."

  He didn't budge an inch as she crowded in beside him to rotate the turkey. The warmth radiating from his body warmed her blood far more efficiently than her dry clothes had.

  "Listen," he said after a moment of silence. "I may have overreacted a bit earlier."

  "Just a bit?" Skylar asked, glancing up at him.

  "I'm not taking back what I said, just the way I said it."

  "Is that an apology or a statement?" she asked, amused by the sudden sternness of his handsome features.

  "Both," he said, dipping his head and bru
shing his mouth lightly across hers.

  She didn't pull away when his lips returned, lingering as his arms slid around her. She closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss, allowing the heady rush of sensation to thoroughly warm her from the inside out.

  "Lordy, but that's a cold rain!"

  At the sound of Garret's voice, the hands resting on Tucker's chest nearly knocked him over as Skylar spun back toward the fire.

  Garret stomped in out of the downpour, his gaze dropping toward his wet boots. "A few degrees lower and I'll bet it'd be snowin'."

  She was becoming careless!

  "1 know it's early," Garret said as he shook his head and arms, knocking off the excess water, "but I feel like we worked a whole day and then some." His tired hazel eyes met Skylar's gaze. "You changed your clothes."

  Realizing he hadn't seen her wrapped in Tucker's arms, relief broke through Skylar with a force that shook her. "They were wet," she managed to squeeze past the lump constricting her throat.

  "Take a load off, kid," Tucker said as he stood and walked toward Garret. "Your sister has hot coffee brewing. I'm sure you can talk her into pouring you a cup."

  "I'm not trying to cut out on my work, Tuck."

  "I know that. Chance and I can handle the horses. Find a spot to hang your gear so it will dry out."

  "I'll need to use your long coat if I plan to keep dry tonight," Skylar said to Garret.

  "I'm taking first watch," said Tucker.

  "It's my watch."

  "Not in this weather. You don't have another change of clothes and my gear is heavier than Garret's. I don't mind going out. You can have my watch tomorrow night—if it's not raining."

  Tucker seemed to be in a take-charge mood this evening. Skylar smiled then shrugged her shoulders. "If you're sure, I won't complain about staying out of the rain."

  "I'm sure," he said before stepping out of the shelter.

  When Skylar glanced up, Garret was staring at her with a wide grin. "What?" she asked, afraid he may have seen her in Tucker's arms after all.

  He plopped down beside her and folded his long legs in front of him. "I'm just glad to see you and Tuck finally gettin' along."

  "Are we?" she asked, digging a tin cup from the sack sitting on the other side of her. She filled the cup with steaming black coffee and handed it to her brother.

  "Thank you, sis." He wrapped his hands around the warm tin. The grin he flashed warmed her chest. Impulsively, she leaned over and pressed a light kiss to Garret's damp white hair.

  His smile broadened.

  Lord, she was blessed to have Garret in her life. During the past several weeks she had felt a closeness with him she hadn't realized she'd lost.

  "You like him, don't you, Sky?" Garret asked a moment later.

  "Who?"

  "Tucker."

  "Sure," she answered, managing to keep a neutral tone.

  "And he likes you."

  A wave of dread prickled across Skylar's skin. Garret may not have seen her with Tucker, but his young mind definitely suspected something. "Garret, our plans haven't changed. You know why we're going to Wyoming."

  "Yeah," he said, his expression glum. "To get the horses back and sell 'em so we can get us a home. But what good is a house gonna do us without the horses?"

  "We'll still have the Arabians."

  "What if we don't get the mustangs back, Sky?"

  They'd be in a world of hurt. She was counting on the money from the mustangs to buy them a place of their own, as far away from Tucker Morgan as she could get.

  'Tuck and Chance wouldn't turn us out," Garret insisted.

  Skylar didn't doubt the confidence in her brother's gaze. Chance and Tucker wouldn't turn their backs on them when they reached Wyoming, but staying on their ranch wasn't an option. She couldn't be so close to Tucker without wanting more than he was willing to give her.

  "I was sorta hopin'," Garret said, his voice slow with caution, "that maybe you and Tuck would—"

  "We'll be parting company with the Morgans once we reach Wyoming. Accept it, Garret."

  Garret's mouth flattened at her sharp response. "I think you're being stubborn," he grumbled under his breath.

  "I think you're being naive." The sooner he realized the way things had to be, the easier it would be, for both of them.

  "Maybe I just like seeing you smile"

  Her head whipped back toward her brother, stunned by his softly spoken words.

  "You've been happier lately," he said. "I like seeing you smile, Sky."

  "So do I."

  Skylar glanced up at Tucker standing beneath the tarpaulin shelter and instantly felt a warmth in her cheeks. Criminy sake! How long had he been standing there? And how was she supposed to convince Garret that there was no chance of Tucker wanting her for a wife when he spouted off such comments in his presence?

  How was she supposed to convince herself?

  Relieved from night watch by Chance, Tucker returned to camp and stretched on out on his bedroll. He folded his arms under his head and listened to the steady tapping of rainfall against the thick tarpaulin and Garret's steady breathing a few feet away. His thoughts centered around Skylar's warm body lying in the shelter on the other side of the campfire.

  The woman was damn infectious. She'd infected every ounce of his being with her sensuality. He'd never known a woman with such passion—or had so much trouble controlling his own. Four days without being able to feel her skin against his was driving him crazy. In another day or so he wouldn't be able to make love to Skylar without putting her at clear risk of pregnancy.

  He needed her now.

  Sitting up, he glanced through the darkness where Garret was sleeping. The kid was dead to the world and wasn't likely to be venturing out into the rain in the middle of the night.

  Tucker reached for his coat, barely shrugging it on as he stepped out into the rain.

  "Skylar?" he whispered, lifting the edge of her tarpaulin.

  "Tuck?" she said, with an alertness that told him she hadn't been sleeping.

  He slipped inside and shrugged off his coat. Seemed she was having just as much trouble sleeping. They might as well pass the time together. "Evening, sweetheart."

  "What are you doing in here?"

  Tossing his coat into a pile at the corner of her tent, he dropped to his knees beside her. "I'll give you one guess," he said, his hands already unbuttoning the heavy flannel. "It's driving me mad to be near you and not kiss the daylights out of you."

  Skylar stared into the darkness of her tent, stunned by Tucker's sudden materialization. As much as she wanted to spend the night in his arms, there were obvious reasons why she couldn't. "Tuck, Garret's only a few yards away."

  "I know," he whispered. "As much as I love your passionate cries, you're gonna have to keep it down."

  "Tucker" She slapped at his nimble fingers.

  "Garret is snuggled up in his bedroll and sound asleep," he said, feathering kisses across her face. "Let me hold you, Sky. Just for a little while. I promise to clear out before daybreak."

  Tucker's masterful hands were no match for her halfhearted resistance, the pitch of night not hindering him one bit as he peeled away layers of clothing. His warm mouth caressed her neck with fiery kisses, distracting her, until she felt the consuming warmth of his body moving over her, his gentle fingers sliding across her sensitive skin, burning her from the inside out.

  Chapter 22

  Tucker woke to the sound of Skylar's whispering voice and her hand rubbing across his chest. His body awakened to her touch, her scent, the promise of the intense pleasure they'd already shared several times. Lord, she was everything a man could hope for in a lover—and more.

  "Tuck, wake up," she whispered again.

  "You are tenacious " he mumbled, his eyes still closed as he rolled on top of her, his lips easily finding the sensitive cove of her neck. "Not that I'm complaining, honey."

  Hell, who needed sleep when they had a passionate woman yearni
ng to be loved. But...for some reason, her hands seemed to be combating his attempt and fabric was covering her soft skin.

  When had she gotten dressed?

  'Tucker, the sun is up," she whispered in a harsh tone. "You have to get out of here before Garret wakes up and Chance comes into camp."

  Tucker opened his eyes and lifted his head. Just as she'd said, the sun had risen, and just as her stern whisper had indicated, her sweet face was set in a hard frown.

  Nothing he couldn't fix. "Damn, but you're beautiful in the morning."Tucker felt a ring of victory as her lips tipped upward in a slight smile.

  He wasn't blowing smoke. She truly was beautiful in the morning. He lowered his lips back to the sweet skin of her neck, not the least bit worried about anything beyond the woman beneath him. Spending the winter right here in this tent with Skylar would suit him just fine.

  "Tuck, stop." Skylar moaned as his caressing lips sent shivers across her body. "You've got to get out of here before Garret wakes up."

  If he heard her softly spoken plea, he gave no indication. He continued to nibble on her ear, her neck, her shoulder. Skylar groaned as his hand slipped into the shirt he'd already unbuttoned, knowing the direction he was headed, fully aware of the overwhelming passion he so easily evoked in her.

  Instinctively her body shifted, allowing him to settle deeper into the cradle of her thighs. They'd already coupled more times in one night than she thought possible, yet her body ached for him.

  But they couldn't!

  She would die if Garret found out she had allowed Tucker to spend the night in her bedroll like some harlot. She forced her hands to drop away from him. "Tucker, you promised to leave before sun up. You promised."

  He braced himself up with his arms. "You're not an easy woman to leave, Skylar. Each time I tried to say good-night, well..." His lips twisted wryly. "You know what happened."