She tried to focus on the book in her hands, but her concentration was pitiful. The words blurred together until she snapped it closed. She took off her spectacles and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Declan stood at the tiny stove, cooking yet another soup for them to eat. She never thought she would dream of freshly baked bread or pickled eggs. Anything besides beans or carrot soup.
“Mr. Drummond has not been by to collect the tithe. Is today the day he normally arrives?” Jo was more than hopeful he would lift the quarantine. She was still somewhat weak but most assuredly not contagious or even sick. It was past time to release them from their jail.
Declan grunted his response. It could have been a yes or a no.
“I am distinctly ready to leave this place.” She put her glasses back on and peered at him. “You must be tired of staring at these four walls.”
He mumbled something that sounded like, “You have no idea.”
“You did not answer my question about Mr. Drummond.” She stood up and stretched. “Will he visit us today?”
Declan turned and glared at her. “I don’t keep the man’s schedule.”
“I did not say you would, but it has been one week from today since he was here previously. My question is perfectly relevant.”
The great rock in the room gave her his back. Annoyed and fed up with his stoicism, she walked to the door and opened it, determined to escape. Before she could enjoy the smell of the fresh air, he was beside her in seconds, his speed belying his size. She gasped when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“You can’t put us in danger because you’re bored and wish for truffles,” he snarled.
She was no longer contagious and Declan had survived more than four weeks without symptoms. He showed not a smidge of the disease. Neither of them was a risk to others. Furious at his attitude and assumptions about her, she tried to loosen his grip, but he was immovable. She opened her mouth and bit his wrist until he cursed and let go with a yelp like a wounded dog.
He jumped back, his eyes wide. “What the holy hell was that?”
“That was me letting you know that I am not to be treated as though I was a recalcitrant child. I am a woman grown. Do not tell me what to do and do not ever assume I will not fight back.” She barely recognized her voice, full of self-righteous fury.
He scowled at the reddened mark on his skin. “You bit me.”
“You hurt me.”
He blinked. “I hurt you?”
Jo held up her own hand. “Yes, you snatched my wrist and twisted it. That hurt. I am not a big hulking brute who can endure endless injury.”
His expression fell and true regret passed across his features. “I’m sorry, lass. I didna mean to hurt you.” His brogue grew thick, and she heard contriteness in his words.
“I am sorry too.” Jo’s fury vanished as quickly as it came. “I have never hurt a living soul.”
They stared at each other, barely a foot apart. She fell into his dark blue eyes, lost in the depths of what she saw. Pain, regret, sadness, hopelessness, darkness. Behind all that, she saw a flicker of something else. Declan was much more than a man from the dregs of New York. He was a man who felt so deeply, he couldn’t see past his own self-imposed hell.
Her heart thumped hard and all the silly thoughts the new Jo had were forgotten. This wasn’t a game to be played by girls. This was a life to be lived by a woman. She had to have faith in herself and this man who had through a twist of fate become her keeper.
She reached up and cupped his jaw, the rasp of his whiskers sharp on her palm. “Kiss me.” He opened his mouth to say no, but she put her fingers over his lips to stop him. “Kiss me, Declan. Please.”
He hesitated for another few moments, and she knew the second he gave in. His lips claimed hers, hot and firm. It was everything she remembered and more. His arms closed around her and this time she pressed against him fully. Declan was hard as an oak tree, a direct contrast to her softness, a perfect fit.
Awash in sensation, she followed his lead, their lips moving and tasting each other. His tongue tickled the seam of her lips and she opened to him, eager to learn and to experience everything all at once. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth, tangling and rasping against hers. The rough texture against the softness of hers was exquisitely foreign. Jo had never understood the appeal of kissing, but she recognized the lure now. It was strong, pulsing through her, landing between her legs and making her nipples bud into aching points.
Oh yes, Jo wanted to do more than kiss Declan. She always thought copulation a messy business, but at this moment, locked in his arms, she desired nothing more. His big hands landed on her behind, pulling her tight against him. The distinct ridge of his arousal pressed into the softness of her belly. She moaned as a throb pulsed low and tight in her core.
In an instant, it was over. He took her arms and pushed her away, tearing his mouth from hers. Jo was bereft, reaching for what she’d been denied.
“No, we can’t.” His voice vibrated with leashed hunger. It made her want him all the more—he was as affected as she was by that incredible kiss.
“Yes, we can. You choose not to.” She was breathless, overwhelmed by her body’s reaction to his. What would it be like when they were without clothing, skin to skin, genital to genital? The very thought sent a swarm of blood to her head and she felt woozy.
“Yep, that’s right. I ain’t a fool, Josephine.” He sucked in a breath, which, she was pleased to note, was decidedly shaky. “I gotta deliver you back to your parents in one piece.”
She wanted to resent him but was touched by his self-control and the devotion to his promise to her family. It didn’t make her ache go away, though. She licked her lips and noted his trousers twitched.
“While I admire your gallantry, Declan, I would really rather have s—”
“Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” Drummond appeared on the doorstep. “You weren’t thinking of leaving this cabin, were you?” The older man had a smile on his face, but it was a disturbing smile, more a baring of the teeth than a friendly gesture.
“No, just letting in fresh air.” Declan’s expression might have been carved from stone.
“Mr. Drummond, as you can see I am completely recovered. Would you please lift the quarantine so we can walk about the fort freely? I find the small cabin to be stifling when I am no longer suffering from sickness.” She forced a brightness to her voice she did not feel. Her trust in the medic was almost nonexistent. His collection of funds from Declan’s pocket was approaching unreasonable.
Drummond could be ignorant, but Jo believed he was simply a dark man who took what he wanted from others without thought to the consequences. His gaze traveled up and down her body, pausing at her breasts before proceeding. Jo realized belatedly her nipples were still hard. Jackass.
“You do look better than the last time I saw you, Mrs. Callahan.” He emphasized the Mrs. as though he had been listening to their argument. “However, I do not believe you are no longer contagious. Typhoid is a very serious disease, not to be taken lightly because you wish to stroll along the promenade.”
Jo felt each word as though he slapped her with it. She had a hard time not gasping or shouting at him. The man intended to keep them prisoner until Declan had no funds. Then he would throw them out into the mud as though they were offal to be disposed of. She was an intelligent woman with enough knowledge of people and their behavior to do what she had to to let Drummond think she believed every lie he spoke.
Instead of slapping the man, she forced a smile to her face. “Of course you are the expert, Mr. Drummond. How much longer do you believe we should remain quarantined?”
“At least three more weeks. I don’t want this disease to spread to the good folks in the fort.” That disturbing grin made its appearance and she tightened every muscle in her body not to react. “Do you have this week’s rent, Callahan?”
Declan’s jaw tightened and she thought she heard a tooth crack.
He didn’t speak or move, and Jo wondered if he had been pushed too far.
“Of course we do.” Jo turned to go to her own reticule, where her meager funds would keep the wolves at bay to give them enough time to escape their prison.
Declan’s hand stopped her. His touch was firm but gentle. “No need, lass. I’ve got the money.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out coins, which he slapped into Drummond’s outstretched palm. The medic was surprised by the vehemence of it. Jo wanted to tell Declan to keep his feelings hidden, but there was no chance of that now.
“Do you need any supplies?” Drummond tucked the coin into his trouser pocket.
“Of course we do.” Jo smiled tightly. “Some staples would be welcome if you would be so kind as to arrange for them.”
Declan’s glare almost set her hair on fire with the fierceness of it. She ignored him and waited for Mr. Drummond to take the bait she dangled. They needed supplies if they were to escape from the fort.
“I’ll be right happy to.” Drummond held out his hand again.
A low-pitched growl came from Declan, but he put more coins in Drummond’s hand. Jo felt sick about how much money Declan had given to this man and Parker. He had kept her safe and alive, both with his care and his money. She would pay him back for everything he’d done.
“Thank you for all you have done for us, Mr. Drummond.” Jo kept the smile on her face, calling upon all the lessons in manners ingrained in her from the time she could toddle.
“My pleasure, Mrs. Callahan. I hope you keep on getting better.” With a tap to the brim of his hat, he disappeared from view.
Declan slammed the door so hard, Jo moved a few inches from the impact. “You think it wise to flirt with the man who has a tight grip on my balls?”
Jo blinked, nonplussed by the question. “Flirt? I was certainly not flirting.”
“You smiled at the man as if you wanted to get on your knees in front of him and suck his cock.”
She drew in a breath of outrage before she slapped Declan. This was what she had wanted to do since she’d met the man, but it gave her no satisfaction. Not at all. In fact, her hand stung right along with her eyes.
“How dare you?” She hid her throbbing hand in the folds of her dress. “I wanted him to think we accepted his pronouncement of an additional three weeks. We need the supplies to escape from here and we need him and Parker to believe we are ignorant of their nefarious scheme!”
Declan’s face flushed and he opened and closed his mouth, then shook his head. She turned and walked away, angry at him for a myriad of reasons. First she needed to try to tamp down the temper she had let loose for the second time that day. Something about Declan goaded her into a fury like no one else in her life ever had.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and folded her arms across her middle. Her emotions were overtaking her normally calm and logical demeanor. That was what Declan did to her—changed her until she barely recognized herself.
He knelt in front of her and reached for her hands. She snatched them away from his reach, unwilling to let him touch her. He had accused her of wanting to perform a hideous act on that awful Mr. Drummond. It would be quite some time before she forgave him for that transgression.
“I don’t pretend to be a man with manners or a brain. Most days I have none of either. I can only see what’s in front of me, and today I saw red. Drummond is bleeding me dry. If I try to stop him, I risk you not getting well.” She heard the self-recrimination and anger in his tone. He wanted to change their situation, but he also didn’t want to jeopardize her.
The big question was, would he accept her scheme or continue on the way he had been? She had to take a chance. They could not stay there, and unless they made a drastic move, they could end up with nothing, out in the cold or possibly in a jail cell.
“I have an idea.”
He stilled, every bit of him tense and waiting for her to continue.
“We get the supplies from Drummond, pack everything we can carry, then retrieve the horse and ride to my sister’s property. I have studied the maps John had. Their ranch is approximately three days’ ride if my calculations are correct. Perhaps less.” Jo had no illusions that it was as easy as it sounded.
“When do you plan to do this?” His voice was even, not betraying how he felt about her suggestion.
“During the new moon. If I’m correct, that’s tomorrow night. Drummond will not be back for six days after that.” She had high hopes their absence wouldn’t be discovered until then.
“The farrier will notice the horses missing long before that.”
She had forgotten about that part. “We could leave money for their boarding.”
“I’ve been giving Parker money for that already. It don’t matter if we leave money—the farrier will alert Parker when the horses are missing.” Declan sat beside her. “I don’t think there is a way to get where we need to be without horses, much as I don’t like the beasties.”
She was surprised by the admission. From the way the man rode a horse every day, she assumed he loved riding.
“You would rather ride in a wagon?”
“I’d rather walk on my own two legs, but this land doesn’t take to walking long distances. I’ve had the experience and I didn’t like it a bit.” He threaded his fingers together. “I think it’s a sound plan.”
She grinned widely, inordinately pleased. It shouldn’t matter if he approved of her idea, but it did just the same.
“You’ll need to leave behind your things, including the chair from your pa.” Declan’s soft words hit her hard.
She would have to leave behind not only the chair, but most of her books, the trunk that had belonged to her grandmother and a piece of her life behind as well. It would be hard, extremely so. Jo had no doubt she would regret not keeping her precious possessions. However, she was logical enough to know her life was more important than anything she owned.
She stared hard at the rocking chair, memories of her life racing through her mind. “It is more important to escape than to keep my things. I can make new memories. My father can make another chair. I cannot replace my life. More importantly, I cannot replace your life.”
Surprise coated his features. “My life is not more important than yours.”
“I could never forgive myself if something happened to you after all you did to save me.” To Jo it was a matter of what was right, regardless of what he thought.
“You don’t owe me anything, lass.” He cupped her cheek. “I think I needed you to redeem a wee bit of my soul, black as it is.”
A wee bit of her heart melted, caught between the blue of his eyes. Declan was dangerous to her in more ways than one. She just had to decide if it was worth the damage he might do to her should he decide to break her heart.
“Then we will leave tomorrow?” She waited, holding her breath.
Declan sighed but then nodded. “Aye, let’s get out of here before I kill Drummond.”
Jo didn’t know whether to be excited or frightened. They were going to get out of Fort John.
Declan watched her sleep in the pink light of dawn that crept into the shack to paint the room in a rose glow. Tonight they ran from the fort. How successful it would be depended on a lot of things.
Jo’s plan was a sound one. He wouldn’t begrudge her that. However, it didn’t mean he wasn’t worried—far from it. He was nervous as hell. Anything and everything could go wrong. If the farrier was awake and tried to stop them, Declan might have to resort to old tactics. When he had only himself to worry about, he could dive in headfirst and not worry about the outcome.
Now he had a woman who was smarter than any person he’d ever met, but she was as fragile as a flower. No matter how much she claimed to be healed, he knew better. She had nearly died on two different occasions. He had almost died right along with her, sweating and cursing, challenging her to fight for her life.
From the second they left that cabin, they were
in real danger. Declan’s gut twisted with the knowledge her life was still in his hands. He didn’t much care for the responsibility or the way it made him feel. Yet he liked having her with him and he sure liked the way she cared about whether he lived or died. He thought perhaps it was caused by her mistaken hero worship of his nursing skills. It was a new sensation for him and he wouldn’t lie to himself about how uncomfortable it made him.
It had taken every speck of self-control not to climb into bed with her, or into her body for that matter. She was the perfect size and height, fitting against him as though he was a key and she a lock. Even in sleep, her natural sensuality was evident from her plump pink lips, her breasts pushing against the quilt and one long, creamy leg poking out from the blanket. She was sex incarnate, and he had a hard dick just looking at her slumbering form.
Declan wasn’t a learned man, but he knew he was in love with her. She was deep inside him, nestled somewhere near what was his heart. He’d not expected to feel this way, ever, but now that he did, he didn’t know what to do. He surely couldn’t tell her, which would be a disaster of epic proportions. No, he could show her by keeping her safe, from others and from herself. The playful, flirty Jo had been a surprise, but now that he knew what was lurking beneath the surface, he would be on his guard.
The very last thing he needed was to take her virginity. He didn’t have verbal confirmation from her, but he would bet every last cent she was untouched. Except for the stolen kisses with him, Josephine was pure as a fresh snowfall. It was another reason never to consummate this sham marriage. Even if he dreamed of it night and day.
She shifted, and he watched as more of that long limb appeared in his line of sight. His dick twitched as he imagined those legs wrapped around him as he plunged into her.
“Declan?” Her sleep-tinged voice made him want to put his hands over his tented britches and hide from her like a green boy. Foolish man with an equally foolish heart.
“I’m here, little one.”
The Prospect: The Malloy Family, Book 10 Page 8
