“You aren’t going to tell me, are you? Fine, I can ignore you as well as you can ignore me.”
“It’s just beans and coffee,” she groused.
“Then I shouldn’t have any problem handling it. So lay back and rest.”
Though she clearly didn’t like it, she complied. She objected again but with just as little success when he insisted he would bed down on the hard plank floor. Ev knew he could be a remarkably stubborn man when he chose, and he chose now.
The next day Ev woke to silence. Early morning sunlight heated his face. His body was warm, so the potbelly must still be making heat, but no sound or smell stirred the quiet. He sat up. Kat was gone. A quick survey of the room showed that her saddle bags were missing.
“Dangit, when am I going to stop underestimating that woman? I coulda sworn she was too exhausted to skip out on me.” Maybe she hasn’t, countered the part of him that already seemed to believe her innocent.
He sighed, pulled on his coat and boots then stowed his gear in his saddlebags before braving the chill outdoors.
The corral was disappointingly empty, and his bay was the only mount occupying the small horse shelter.
He searched the ground and finally sorted the freshest tracks from older signs. The unshod grey had headed in the direction of that waterfall he’d seen when he paused on the valley’s rim with Kat. From the depth of the hoof prints, the horse was weighed down with a lot more than one slim woman. However, the width of the stride indicated a walking pace. The horse, and thus its rider, wasn’t in any hurry.
So maybe she’s going for a pleasure ride, not escaping. Right. And Boyd isn’t in any danger of losing his life, if Kat doesn’t return to the Shoshone camp.
In minutes Ev was on her trail.
• • •
Kiera folded back the cuffs of her shirtsleeves in deference to the promised heat of the day. Then she steadied the tripod at the very edge of the cliff that broke the line of steep hills surrounding Smoke Valley. Checking the angle of her lens, she glanced toward the sun rising above the perpetual cloud line that circled the valley and waited as the shadow of the hills crept away from the thin line of water cascading over the cliff. Gradually the pristine stream was revealed. At the moment of greatest contrast between water and shadow, she ducked under the camera’s hood then reached around to remove the lens cap and expose the photographic plate prepared earlier.
The image would be perfect, one of her best ever. If she could just time the exposure correctly. A few more seconds. She started to replace the lens cap, but her body was jerked backward from the camera.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. You won’t fall.”
Ev!
Her extended arm struck the tripod, and the entire apparatus, camera, plate, tripod, and all teetered toward the empty air beyond the cliff.
“Nooo!” She pushed free of his grip, lunged for the toppling tripod, and managed to grasp a single spindly leg with one hand. However, the surface of the cliff was loose, shale-like stone, and the camera made the tripod top heavy. The weight combined with the momentum from her lunge sent her on a painful slide toward the precipice.
She braced her free hand against the ground, slowing her forward motion a little. The small rocks bit and sliced into her palm and prevented her from finding purchase enough to halt her downward progress. Just as her shoulders cleared the cliff edge, she jerked to a stop. Ev had her by the ankles.
With the tripod assembly dangling from her hand, she stared at the rocks hundreds of feet below. Her one handed grip wasn’t enough, and the mist-slicked wood started slipping from her fingers.
She labored to breathe. Her heart pounded. She could hear little above the thud of blood in her ears and the noise of the waterfall immediately to her left. She hurt all over, but mostly in the palm of the hand that had probably been shredded like frayed ribbon. The tripod continued to slip until the broad-footed end of the leg she held came to rest on the top of her fist. Momentum tugged her arm more, making her wonder if the limb had been wrenched from her shoulder socket.
With the camera temporarily secure, she was able to catch her breath, and her heart rate slowed.
Gradually she became aware of a sound rising above the noise of falling water.
“I’ve got hold of you. Push yourself up and away from the cliff,” yelled Ev.
“I can’t,” she shouted back.
“What’s the problem?”
“I’ll lose the camera.” Ev could have no idea what she’d gone through over the years to keep this camera. Hiding it from her grandfather. All but prostituting herself in San Francisco. Lugging the gear around the coldest, loneliest mountains on the continent. The camera and the photographs she took with it were her solace and comfort when everything else in the world went wrong. That’s what had driven her to this cliff top today, the need to submerge her troubles in the cleansing activity of creating an image as close to nature as she could possibly make. How could she give that up?
A lengthy pause followed before Ev spoke again. “Would you rather lose your life? I can’t hold you like this much longer, and with the added weight of that equipment, you’re too heavy for me to pull up on my own. If I let go, you’re going over the cliff with that camera.”
That was the gist of the matter. She could replace her camera, but not if she wasn’t alive to do it. She released her grip on the tripod. Tears of frustration obscured her view just as the crash of her treasured equipment obscured the trickle of noise from the waterfall.
She felt herself being dragged backward.
When solid ground finally supported her entire body, she placed her hands, palms down, on the rocky surface and pushed upward. Pain shot through her left hand, and she crumpled back to the ground. She lay there gulping in air, waiting for the throbbing to subside, and trying not to cry.
“Kat, what’s the matter?”
With gentle hands Ev grasped her shoulders, turning her over and pulling her into his lap where he sat.
The concern in his face was too much to bear. She turned her face into his shoulder, and he gathered her closer.
One sob broke followed by another and another. How was it she always ended up weeping in his arms? She’d never shown weakness to any other man. Not Herbert, not grandfather, and they were the worst men she’d known. Why let down her guard with this man? What was the point in rescuing her only to take her to Laramie for hanging?
• • •
Ev waited for her tears to subside and the shock of panic to fade from his system. However, long after Kat quieted, he sat there rocking her, loath to release her. She felt too good right where she was, warm, relaxed, perfect, and he wanted to keep that feeling for as long as he could.
Her head left his shoulder, and the air cooled the damp warmth that soaked his shirt.
“Ev, don’t you think you should put me down.”
He lowered his gaze to her green eyes. Crystal liquid still trembled on her lashes.
“No.” Fierce longing invaded his heart to do battle with the perfection he felt. “But I will, if you want me to.”
Her lashes lowered some. “I am having a little trouble breathing. Perhaps you could loosen your grip.”
Instantly he unwrapped one arm from around her waist, appalled that he’d hurt this precious woman. He kept his other arm solidly around her back, giving her as much support as she needed until she decided she could sit by herself.
“Oh, dear.”
He followed her gaze to her chest where bruises and scrapes adorned the delicate skin that showed through the tatters of her shirt.
“Does that hurt as bad as it looks?”
“Not as bad as my hand, see.” She lifted her left hand, showing her palm.
He’d seen fresh butchered meat that looked better than her palm. “We’d better get you back to the cabin and cleaned up. Wouldn’t want that to become infected.” Using all his strength and flexibility, he stood with her still in his arms, and walked toward their
horses. As he walked he became aware that his right hip throbbed, so much so that his steps hitched. He must have come down on the hip when he leapt after Kat to keep her from tumbling over the cliff.
“No. Don’t take me back to the cabin.”
“Don’t be foolish. We need hot water, bandages, and disinfectant, if you have it.”
“We have hot water right over there, and once my shirt is clean we can tear that up for bandages.”
Ev looked in the direction she pointed to see steam rising from behind a slight rise in the earth west of the waterfall.
“Hot springs?”
She nodded. “A string of them. The ones farthest from the fall are the hottest. Most are too hot for a bath, but they are progressively cooler the closer they get to the falls. The area behind the falls is riddled with caves that I think must have been pools millennia ago. I’ve seen Spirit Talker bathe the sick and injured in these springs. Every person recovered completely.”
Ev cocked a brow at her. “You think a pool of hot water is going to magically heal your injuries?”
“I don’t know about magic, that’s Spirit Talker’s area of expertise, but I do know that a warm bath is good for aches and pains. You yourself wanted to wash my hand with warm water.”
“I don’t know.” He’d had enough mumbo jumbo growing up with a father who refused to send for a doctor to heal his ailing wife. Illness—even illness inflicted by repeated beatings—was God’s punishment on the wicked, and God would heal the wicked in his own good time.
“It can’t hurt.”
Ev looked from Kat to the steam to the horses and back. “We’ll give it a try. But if you don’t feel better in fifteen minutes, I’m taking you to your cabin.”
At the side of the pool he set her on her feet.
“Can you stand?”
“I’ll manage, if you’ll help me get these clothes off.”
“You want me to help you strip?” The idea was appealing for all the wrong reasons. They were both hurting, and he shouldn’t be having a single prurient thought. Somehow he couldn’t be around Kiera Alden and not think about her with her clothes off or what he’d like to do with her once she was naked.
“With my hand the way it is, I can hardly do it myself.”
“Uh, yeah. I suppose you can’t.”
He found that he was nervous as he hadn’t been since he stole his first kiss in the choir loft of the church his itinerant daddy never preached in. Ev wiped dirt and sweat from his palms and forced his big fingers to go slow and easy. He didn’t want to hurt Kat more than absolutely necessary.
With the release of each button he saw more of her flesh. Her skin was soft, the color of pale cream. When the shirt finally hung open, he lifted his hands and gently pushed the cloth over her shoulders. Her breath hissed as the linen rasped down her arms. Red welts and abrasions streaked the tender undersides. A large purpling bruise covered her left side, descending from her rib cage to somewhere below her denims.
Unable to stop staring, he gave the shirt an aimless toss. He waited for her to tell him to continue. His hands hovered near her waist.
“We’d better get the pants off too. Spirit Talker never left anything on the people he placed in the hot spring.”
Before dealing with the denims, he knelt, untying the laces of her moccasins.
“Use your hand on my shoulder for balance and lift your leg.”
One at a time the moccasins slid off. Not bothering to stand, Ev looked up at Kat. “You’re sure about this?”
She smiled at him, light sparkling in her eyes.
Ev swallowed once, set his fingers on her belt and slipped the catch free then loosened the buttons that held her denims closed. He treated her legs with the same care that he’d given her arms. Fortunately the cloth of her pants was tougher than that of her shirt. Only yellowish bruises sprouted on her legs, no cuts or scrapes, or worse. When she was nude, he sat back on his heels, placed his hands on his knees and stared at the ground.
“Ev, look at me, please.”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t.”
He didn’t know where this unaccustomed shyness came from. He’d never before hesitated to remove a woman’s clothes when invited or look at a pair of pretty breasts or a shapely bottom.
“Please.”
The pleading in her voice was new, and that more than anything had him lifting his head to meet her gaze.
“Do you find me unpleasant to look at?”
“You’re beautiful. I’ve never seen a woman so pretty, nor one with as much courage as you, Kat.”
“Then after you help me into the spring, perhaps you’d be willing to join me.”
“Do you realize what you’re asking for?”
She nodded. “Mmm hmm. I may have thought you were someone else, but I remember enough of that kiss now to know I want more.”
“If I touch you, I won’t be able to stop.”
The smile that dazzled and enchanted him spread across her face, and a rosy flush deepened on her chest, neck, and face. “I hope not. And Ev … you can call me Kiera.”
He rose and swept her into his arms, giving her no chance to change her mind. Striding to the bright turquoise pool she pointed at, he eased her into the water.
Her sigh was a siren song of ecstasy. Lord he wanted her to make that sound for him. More, he wanted to hear his name on her lips in just that breathy pleasured tone.
• • •
Sighing, Kiera closed her eyes as her body slid into the warm water. She rested on a thin shelf of rock that supported little more than her bottom. Shifting she sought the pressure stream from the small opening in the earth through which the water bubbled to the surface. A second sigh escaped as the water softly pummeled her aching body. She kept her arms on the lip of the pool. She wasn’t ready yet for the arrow sharp stings she knew would come when she submerged her hand’s open cuts in the mineral rich fluid. As the tightness in her body released, she slitted her eyes open, watching Ev through her lashes.
Thumbs hooked in his belt loops he stood motionless at the edge of the pool. He wore a pensive frown, and the angle of his shoulders plus the jut of his hips to one side suggested that he contemplated leaving.
Abruptly he straightened, his frown now more determined than pensive. His fingers fairly flew to open his shirt. He left the dark cloth hanging open to frame his broad chest, a truly magnificent set of muscles, and the twirls of dark hair that disappeared beneath the belt buckle. He did a balancing dance to remove each boot. Then straightened, unfastened his belt buckle, unbuttoned his denims and shoved them down his legs along with his long johns. His thighs and calves were thick and strong from years in the saddle. His feet long and free of hair. Where his hips narrowed a thicket of dark curls blanketed his scrotum. An impressive erection rose from the thicket.
With every move, every revealed patch of sun-bronzed skin, Kiera felt her gaze widen. Her nipples grew turgid, and desire twisted low in her belly. She wasn’t an innocent—not anymore. She knew what her body’s response to Ev’s nudity meant. She’d had a lover, and she’d seen naked men of all shapes and sizes. You couldn’t live in a bordello or take lewd photographs for a living—no matter how reluctantly—and not see, really see, naked men.
However, the man before her wasn’t a subject of a photograph, a stud, or one of Madame Duval’s clients. This was Ev, her friend and her enemy. The man who’d cared for her when she was sick, who held her when she wept, who kissed her with a passion beyond anything she could recall, and who would turn her over to a judge and jury that in all probability would hang her by the neck until she was dead.
She couldn’t blame him for doing what he believed was right. He honestly thought that justice would prevail. He was wrong. The past three years only underscored what she’d learned growing up—that justice had little to do with innocence and everything to do with greed, influence and money. Nonetheless, she decided that for now, in this moment, nothing mattered but having Evrett Qu
inn’s arms around her, his kisses on her lips, and his body joined with hers. She wanted to give him a gift as great as the one he’d given her. She couldn’t save his life, like he had hers, but she could love him, if only for a little while.
“Are you going to stand there all day?” she asked.
He shook his head and stepped from his clothing into the pool.
“Are you certain about this?” his voice a low rasp.
She reached out her good hand to him. “As certain as I can be.”
“I’m not the kind to settle down, Kiera.”
“Neither am I.” She was certain that settle meant something different to her than it did to him. She drew him closer so he stood between her knees, in waist high water.
“Then why?”
“Because I nearly died out there.” She tilted her head toward the cliff. “I need to know I’m alive, to feel that living connection with another human being, with you.” She released her hold on the spring’s edge, suppressing a hiss of pain when her lacerated palm encountered the minerals in the water. Using her grip on his hand, she drew herself closer, surrounding his hips with her legs.
The hair of his upper legs abraded the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and she shivered. She locked her ankles behind him, resting her heels on his buttocks and applying an easy encouraging pressure. She looked up at him to see barely leashed desire conquer his face. “Kiss me, Ev. Please.”
He didn’t speak or hesitate but bent, brushing his lips across hers. The shift of his hips brought his erection close enough to tease her with the treat of pleasures to come. Then taking her in his arms, he kissed her fully, licking and nipping.
Her lips tingled, and seeking relief from the torturous pleasure, she opened her mouth. She wanted him inside her. Her arms went around his neck, fingers tangling in the damp locks at his nape.
His tongue circled her lips. His hips shifted away, withdrawing his teasing erection.
Her eyelids drifted shut, and she moaned a protest.
The moan of protest became a moan of urgent satisfaction as tongue and cock plunged in concert.
Her hips lifted to meet his thrusts; her mouth suckled his tongue. Pleasure streaked from lips, breasts, and groin, enveloping her body with yearning delight.
Loving the Lawmen Page 77
