Mustang Wild

by Stacey Kayne

  "Don't move, Garret."

  "Back off, Morgan," snarled Randal. "He can mosey on over here or he can die."

  "Stay where you are," Tucker said to Garret, and pulled the deed from his jacket pocket. He held up the worn folded paper as he took a step toward Randal. "Isn't this what you're really after? What's more important, the woman and the boy or the horses and the land?"

  Randal's dark eyes shifted toward the deed. "What if I said I was more interested in the woman and the horses?"

  Tucker's gun was drawn and cocked with such speed, Randal blinked hard as his eyes focused on the other man's hand.

  "I'd say over my dead body."

  A smile slid across Randal's swollen lips. "Know what I think? I think you're fool enough to care for this kid. Throw your gun down, Morgan. You can't win. You shoot me. I'll shoot the boy."

  "What about me?" boomed Chance's voice.

  Tucker followed Randal's gaze. His brother stood at the entrance of the passage Garret had used, his rifle raised, aimed at Randal's head.

  Randal's aim faulted as his eyes peeled wide.

  Tucker started to take a step forward.

  "Don't," Randal warned as his gaze moved between them.

  "You can't shoot us all," said Chance.

  Randal's eyes narrowed as he turned his cold gaze on Garret backed against the hillside. "Then I'll take my one shot."

  "No!"

  Tucker heard Skylar scream as she streaked past him and leaped at Randal. "Skylar!"

  Skylar shoved against Randal with all her weight, grabbing for the gun aimed at her brother.

  Randal shouted a curse. The ground shifted beneath her feet. A gunshot exploded in her ears as Skylar felt herself being drawn over the edge of the cliff. Red flashed across Randal's neck just before she pounded against the mountainside. Randal's heavy body slammed on top of her before they began tumbling down the steep slope. She grasped at the jagged rock, trying to slow her fall. Her back pounded onto a hard surface, rattling her aching bones and forcing all the air from her lungs.

  "Skylar!"

  Disoriented, she distantly heard Tucker repeatedly shouting her name. Dirt and gravel began pelting against her, forcing her to open the heavy lids of her eyes.

  Tucker was skidding down the steep hillside.

  "Skylar? Honey?" He dropped over her, his knees straddling her hips.

  Fear slammed through Tucker, shaking him as he saw the amount of blood glistening against the bright sunlight. Her neck and chest was covered. He shot her!

  Buttons scattered as he ripped open her blood-soaked shirt and shoved up the wool undershirt.

  "Tucker—"

  "I've got you, angel," he soothed, his hands frantically searching for the bullet wound.

  Skylar tried to push his hands away and sit up. "I can—"

  "Lie still, damn it!"

  "Tuck, I—"

  "I said lie still!"

  The raw emotion in his tone seized Skylar's full attention. The intensity in his eyes spooked her. She stilled, allowing his hands to move over her aching body.

  "You weren't shot," he gasped a moment later, sounding surprised.

  "No. I think Randal was hit. I saw red. Is he—"

  "He's facedown at the bottom of this cliff." Tucker grimaced as though the words tasted sour on his tongue. But as he shifted her clothes back into place and met her gaze, warmth flooded his eyes. "Can you sit up?"

  "Yes."

  "You sure?"

  "I'm sure," she said, hiking herself up on her elbows.

  A hard sigh of relief broke from Tucker's chest as his strong arms encircled her and hauled her against his body. "God, Skylar. I've died a hundred times over in the past few hours."

  She could feel his rapid heartbeat against her chest and wasn't sure which one of them was trembling more.

  "I swear I came as soon as I found you gone."

  She smiled. "I knew you would."

  "That was one hell of a tumble," Chance shouted from up above.

  Tucker eased back to see his brother scrambling down the hill.

  "Thank God this ledge broke her fall," he said, stopping beside him. "Is she—!"

  "She wasn't shot," Tucker assured him, and clamped her back against his chest.

  "You need help getting her up this hill? It's a hell of a climb."

  "We can manage."

  "All right. I'll head back up and make sure Duce has everything under control."

  "We'll be right behind you," Tucker said as Chance began picking his way back up.

  Tucker spotted Garret's worried face peering over the sharp edge. He nodded, giving the kid reassurance that his sister was all right. The change in Garret's features was immediate.

  "Can you stand, sweetheart?" he asked a moment later.

  "I can stand," she said, yet her eyes still seemed dazed, unfocused.

  Tucker got up and helped her to feet. "Careful," he said, wrapping his arm securely around her waist to keep her steady. "This ledge isn't much wider than you."

  Skylar winced, her expression contorting with pain.

  "Honey, are you going to be able to make it up?" he asked, already supporting most of her weight as he held her against his side. "I can carry you."

  "I can make it," Skylar insisted. Her body, however, wasn't being as cooperative as her mind. Standing upright was taking far more effort than it should. "Can you hold me for a minute?" She couldn't think of anything she wanted more than just to be in his arms.

  "Gladly." Tucker leaned back against the mountainside, opened the front of his coat and pulled her against him, fitting her to his long body.

  Skylar shoved her hands inside his jacket, feeling his warmth seep into her bones as he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face against the bend of his neck, filling her senses with his musky scent. His hands moved over her back in long, steady strokes, soothing her pain, easing her tension, relaxing her cramped muscles.

  "Don't fall asleep yet, angel."

  Skylar blinked her eyes open and realized she had been half-asleep. She couldn't help it. He was so warm and she couldn't feel any safer than she did at this moment.

  "Ready to move, sweetheart?"

  "No." She was content to stay right where she was. She didn't want to be disturbed—but eventually, she was.

  Skylar wasn't sure how he'd managed it, but a short while later she was standing at the top of the cliff, again wrapped in Tucker's arms.

  Dear God, she was happy to see him. To feel him.

  "Skylar?"

  "Hum?" She sighed, doing her best to melt into the length of his body.

  "Sweetheart, you're shaking. We need to get you by a fire."

  She didn't feel as if she was shaking. She didn't want to go anywhere, but Tucker began to pry her hands from around his waist. Her protest died on her lips as she was lifted into his arms. Her eyes drifted shut. Being held was even better than being hugged.

  A few moments later, she was jarred awake and found herself sitting before a campfire.

  "Stay here," Tucker said as he released her shoulders. He shrugged off his coat and draped it around her. He tossed a few chunks of wood onto the low flames of the fire. "I'll find you some blankets," he said as he turned away.

  Skylar stared into the orange glow, dismayed by Tucker's absence. She didn't need blankets. She needed him.

  Bothered by the feel of her shirt clinging to her neck, she wiped at something sticky on her throat. Her breath caught at the sight of her bloodstained hand. Glancing down at her chest, air rushed from her lungs. Her stomach lurched.

  Blood! Randal's blood. It was everywhere!

  She peeled the saturated wool shirt away from her skin. Thick trails of scarlet streaked clear down to her stomach.

  Bile burned at her throat.

  She had to get it off!

  When Tucker returned with an armload of blankets, only his jacket was lying in the spot he'd left Skylar. He turned in a full circle, scanning the campsite. She w
asn't anywhere in sight. Dropping the blankets, he started through the cluster of tents and spotted Chance and Duce standing over the men they were securing with ropes. "Chance?" he called, running toward him. "Have you seen Skylar?"

  "No," Chance said as he straightened. "I thought she was with you."

  "I turned my back for two seconds and she was gone. I think she's in shock. She wasn't—"

  "Tucker." Chance's eyes widened as he looked past him. Tucker follow his brother's gaze. In the space between two tents he could see a stretch of the stream—and Skylar.

  She was in shock all right, and shedding every damn bit of her clothing as she walked toward a wide section of the stream.

  Tucker set into a hard run just as Skylar kicked her pants aside and walked into the water. He tugged his shirt up over his head as his boots splashed into the freezing stream.

  "Skylar?"

  She turned, looking up at him with wide, glistening eyes. "It's everywhere. I don't want his blood on me."

  Tucker's gaze moved over the scarlet dots spattered across her cheek. Her neck and chest were smothered with a thick trail of red that went past her waist. "All right," he said as he tossed his shirt over his shoulder and took the shirt she'd dunked into the river from her hand. "Let me help you."

  He squatted down and pulled Skylar against him, setting her bare backside on his thigh. He thoroughly rinsed her shirt in the shallow stream then he swabbed the blood from her face, neck and chest. Skylar didn't so much as flinch as he smoothed the ice-cold cloth across her skin. Her mind may have been unaware of the frigid temperature, but her prickling skin showed that her body was well aware of the cold.

  Pain mingled with rage as he carefully rinsed the rope burns on her wrists and dark bruises across the left side of her ribs. Randal had died too quick a death.

  Finished, he dropped her shirt into the stream, letting the current take it as he tugged his shirt over her head. The blue cotton covered her to her thighs. He helped her slip her arms into the long sleeves, then carried her from the river. She laid her head against his shoulder, completely relaxed in his arms. Not at all like Skylar, he thought, disturbed by her passive behavior.

  As he approached the others, every man had their back to them, including his brother and Garret.

  Damn.

  She wouldn't like knowing Garret had seen her in such a

  state. Although, she was hardly aware of anyone or anything around her. To his amazement, she was asleep.

  "She all right?" Garret called after him.

  "She'll be fine," Tucker said as he strode back to the campfire.

  Minutes later he had Skylar bundled in the blankets. He sat by the increasing warmth of the fire with Skylar on his lap, snuggled against him as she slept.

  "She really okay?" Chance asked as he knelt beside him.

  "She will be."

  Watching Tucker hold his sleeping angel with such possession, Chance continued to be astounded at how deep his brother's feelings had grown for her.

  "She's just worn-out," Tucker said. "I don't know how she found the strength to tackle Randal. She could barely stand."

  Chance knew how. He'd seen his brother show the same protective endurance for him. "Remember the night that sympathetic soldier sneaked us out of the prison camp? You were a shivering, bloodied-up mess after taking the beating that was meant for me. I hardly had a scratch, but you outran me as we sprinted toward those train tracks. You were the one who dragged me onto the freight car when I stumbled trying keep up with you and that moving train."

  "Can you go back and get our horses?" Tucker asked, his gaze never wavering from Skylar. "She won't want to wake here. Once she's warmed up a bit, I'm taking her back to our camp."

  "I'll take care of it," Chance said, shrugging off the tangle of ill emotion that came with memories of the past. "We've got six men restrained over there, all guilty of horse thieving. There's only one penalty for horse thieves here in Wyoming. We've also got four men willing to carry out that sentence and I don't see any reason to prolong their fate. Do you?"

  "They made their choice," said Tucker. "So be it."

  Chance nodded in agreement and stood.

  "Chance, I don't want Garret to witness the hangings."

  "Understood," Chance said, agreeing wholeheartedly. He hadn't intended to be present, either. A man didn't witness the loss of a life without losing a part of his own soul. He didn't have enough of his soul left to spare. "Me and the kid will go fetch our horses."

  A few hours later they were all riding toward their camp, Sky tucked snugly across Tucker's lap. If she'd stirred once during the long ride, Chance wasn't aware of it.

  He quickly jumped from his saddle and went to help Tucker. "I'll take her while you dismount," he said, reaching up for Sky.

  "She's not leaving my arms." Tucker tossed a leg over his saddle and dismounted, holding Sky protectively against his chest.

  Chance's eyes widened, but he didn't say a word.

  "Tucker?" Skylar said, lifting her head from his shoulder.

  "I've got you, angel girl," he assured her in a tender tone Chance had never heard from him.

  "Garret—"

  "Garret's fine, sweetheart."

  "I need—"

  Tucker silenced her with a kiss on the lips.

  Damnation. Apparently Tucker no longer cared who witnessed their affection.

  "You need sleep," he said in a firm tone. "And I'm going to make sure you get it."

  Chance didn't hear any sound of protest after Tucker ducked into her tent and figured Sky must have consented to his demands or fallen back asleep. He looked at the kid and was surprised by Garret's grinning face.

  "I knew he was sweet on her," he gloated.

  "Yeah, but is your sister sweet on him?"

  "She likes him, all right. I've never seen no one rile Sky the way Tuck does. Think he'll marry her?"

  "He already did." Tucker had lost his damn mind, and didn't show any signs of coming to his senses. There wasn't anything he could do but support him and pray for the best.

  Chapter 26

  Feeling something warm and fuzzy beneath her cheek, Skylar bolted upright.

  A sigh of relief broke from her lungs as her gaze locked on Tucker's sleeping face in the shadowed glow of early morning. No wonder she'd slept so soundly.

  Shivering as the cold morning air swirled around her, she hunkered back down beneath the blankets, nuzzling close to Tucker, pressing against the warm skin of his bare chest. The man was better for warming than a cook fire, the warmth from his body incredibly soothing against her sore, aching muscles. She pulled the heavy fur blanket back over them and laid her head against his shoulder.

  Releasing a deep sigh, she placed her hand on his chest.

  He had come for her, risked his life for her, risked his ranch for her. Tears burned in her eyes at the memory of him holding his deed out to Randal in exchange for Garret's safety. Skylar knew she'd never love anyone as she did Tucker. She wished that was enough.

  Skylar shifted over him, loving the feel of his body stretched out beneath hers. Her bare legs rubbed against the long underwear covering his muscular thighs as she pressed her cheek against the steady beating of his chest."Does your heart belong to me?" she whispered, turning her lips to his warm skin. He cared for her, but she wanted more. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn't settle. She wanted Tucker, but she deserved a husband.

  Tucker mumbled her name in his sleep and banded his arms around her. Smiling, she ignored the pain in her ribs as she allowed him to pull her against him. She wouldn't give up this time with him. Right now, it was enough to be in his arms. She turned her lips to the solid contours of his chest, kissing and tasting as she made a slow ascent.

  "Skylar?" Tucker said, with an alertness that told her he was waking up.

  She moved up his body and feathered soft kisses across his lips. Tucker's hands slid up from the blanket and framed her face as he returned her kiss. When she eased back, his
tender smile touched her heart.

  "Definitely better than all my dreams of waking with you in my arms and kissing you good morning."

  Skylar smiled. "You dream of kissing me?"

  "Every time I close my eyes and plenty of times in between." He hugged her close and gently raked his fingers through her hair.

  Maybe this was enough. To love and be loved.

  "How are you feeling?"

  "At the moment, wonderful."

  "Then we'll have to have lots of these moments," Tucker said as his hand slid under her shirt to caress her back.

  Her eyes again heavy with sleep, she sighed, giving in to her drowsiness. Even as she absorbed his warmth, she knew she was only fooling herself. Tucker had been honest from the start.

  Leaving him was going to kill her, and she couldn't even hate him for it.

  "Skylar?"

  When she didn't respond, he pushed her hair away from her face. Her long lashes rested against soft warm skin. Her breath grew deep and steady.

  Tucker pressed his lips to her forehead, cherishing the feel of her weight in his arms. He could hardly believe he hadn't been dreaming, but had actually awakened to Skylar's kisses.

  Assuming she'd fallen back asleep, he began to gently roll her onto the blanket beside him.

  "Don't."

  Tucker froze, surprised by the sharp command.

  "I want to hold you," she whispered.

  "Only if I can hold you in return."

  Pain closed over Tucker's chest when she immediately sat up, pulling away from his embrace. She reached down, gathering up the bottom of the blue shirt. She winced as she tugged it over her head and tossed it aside, a pain Tucker felt as his gaze swept across a number of dark bruises on her light skin.

  He shuddered with a rush of emotion when she laid her head back against his shoulder, her soft skin brushing his chest as she pressed her lips to his throat. Her deep, contented sigh vibrated clear through his soul.

  "Much better," she purred, stretching as she shifted, settling perfectly on top of him. "You make everything better."

  Tucker grabbed the edge of their blankets and pulled them up, tucking the edges around Skylar's bare shoulders, thankful to have her in his arms, smiling and warm.