He took a deep breath and turned away, releasing her from his gaze.
“Oh, my,” Beth murmured. “Oh, my!”
Later, after they had eaten, they sat on opposite sides of the campfire. Chase stared into the flames, but Beth had eyes only for the man across from her. What was he thinking? Was he remembering times long past? Or regretting the fact that she was there?
A coyote howled in the distance, and she wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling suddenly vulnerable and alone.
“Do not worry,” Chase said quietly. “He is far away.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What were you thinking about?”
Lifting his gaze from the fire, he looked at her. “I was thinking of you.”
Pleasure rippled through her, as intoxicating as the brandy she’d sipped one Christmas Eve. “What about me?”
“I was thinking how beautiful you are, and how brave.”
“Brave? Me?”
Chase nodded. “It was a brave thing you did, getting me out of jail. Leaving your family. Coming with me.”
“I couldn’t let them hang you.”
“You could have.” He considered telling her that Dusty and Ryder had promised to set him free, then thought better of it. Thinking of Dusty made him wonder if it was wise to go to Rainbow Canyon. It would not take Dusty or Ryder long to realize that Beth had set him free and then run off with him. If Dusty wanted revenge, he would know where to look.
Picking up a stick, he turned it round and round in his hands. Would Dusty regret his decision to help his brother? Would Dusty feel honor-bound to come after him to save face? Take him back to jail? See him hanged, not for killing the white man, but for taking Beth? Would he blame him if he did?
He looked across the fire at Beth, felt the warmth in her eyes, the powerful attraction that hummed between them. Her hair fell down her back and over her shoulders like a river of wild honey. Her eyes were as brown and warm as sun-kissed earth. Hardly aware that he was moving, he stood up and circled the fire. He reached for her, drawing her to her feet, his gaze never leaving her face as he lowered his head and kissed her.
Her lips were as pink as the wild roses that grew along the banks of the Little Bighorn, as sweet as wild strawberries. She moaned softly, a purely feminine sound of pleasure, as her eyelids fluttered down and she pressed herself against him.
His body came instantly alive, tingling with awareness as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Her breasts were soft against his chest. He could feel her thighs against his, her fingers caressing his nape, her hand moving restlessly up and down his back.
“Chase.” Her voice was low and husky, her breath warm against his cheek.
He drew back so he could see her face. Her eyes were luminous, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks rosy. So beautiful, he thought, dazed. Like a goddess come to earth.
But he was only a man. A half-breed, and not worthy of her.
“What’s wrong?” Beth asked.
“Everything.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You should not be here, with me.”
“Are you going to start that again?”
“It is true, and you know it. Only trouble will come of this.”
“I don’t care.”
Fool that he was, he knew he would not send her away. Not as long as she wanted to stay. And he knew, just as surely, that once she was truly his, he would never let her go.
“It is late,” he remarked. “We should sleep now.”
Beth nodded. She wasn’t sure how, but they had crossed an invisible line that night. No words had been said, but she knew a bond had been forged between them.
* * * * *
It was a beautiful day! Beth felt herself smiling as they rode across the prairie. She’d never felt so happy, so carefree, in her whole life.
She glanced at Chase and felt a flutter in her stomach as she remembered the kiss they had shared the night before. She had no words to describe the feelings that his kiss had brought bubbling to life. One little kiss, and her blood had turned to flame and her knees had gone weak. One little kiss, and it had changed her forever, had made her dreams of love and happy-ever-after seem within her grasp for the first time.
They stopped near a narrow, winding stream shortly after noon. A few scraggly trees grew nearby, offering a bit of shade.
Beth sat on a patch of yellow grass, chewing on a piece of jerky, while Chase watered the horses.
Her heart did a somersault in her breast as she watched him strip off his shirt. The bandage swathed around his middle seemed very white against the dark bronze of his skin. He knelt beside the stream and doused his head and shoulders. She felt herself smile with admiration and feminine pleasure as she watched the play of muscles in his back and arms as he sat on his heels and ran his hands through his hair. Such wondrous hair, long and thick and blacker than sin. Sunlight glinted off his copper-hued skin and danced in the wet sleekness of his hair.
Heat flooded through her as she stared at him. She’d never known a man could be beautiful, but he was, more beautiful than anything or anyone she had ever seen. She yearned to go to him, to run her hands over his chest, to touch the drops of water sliding down his skin.
She pressed a hand to her thundering heart. Never before had she entertained such thoughts about a man but then, she had never met a man like this one. Tall and dark and dangerous. It was so easy to imagine him riding into battle, an eagle feather braided into his hair, bold slashes of war paint drawn across his cheeks. Had he killed many men? Taken scalps?
She licked lips gone suddenly dry, glad that her parents had lived back East during the Indian wars. She had overheard Dusty’s parents talking about such things once when they didn’t know she could hear them. They had been talking about an Indian attack on a stagecoach bound for Widow Ridge, and the unfortunate fate of all the passengers save one…
Beth frowned, suddenly certain that the survivor of that coach had been Dusty’s mother. She gasped as bits and pieces of conversations she had overheard through the years fell into place. Jenny Fallon had been abducted by the Apache, and Chase was the result.
“Beth?”
Startled, she glanced up to see Chase staring down at her.
“Are you ill?”
“Ill? Me?” She shook her head. “No, why?”
“The color has left your face.”
“I’m fine.”
She held out her hand, and he took it, drawing her to her feet, and then into his arms.
With a sigh, she rested her head against his chest. She could hear the beat of his heart beneath her ear, strong and steady, heard it beat stronger and faster as his lips moved in her hair, as his hands stroked her back.
She tilted her head back, giving him access to her mouth, closing her eyes as his lips claimed hers, gently at first, as if he feared to hurt her.
She kissed him back, her tongue sliding over his lips, wanting to taste him. She heard his gasp of surprise, and then, tentatively, his tongue caressed her lower lip. Lightning, she thought, I’ve been kissed by lighting. How else to explain the fire lancing through her?
Time ceased to exist as they stood there, locked in each other’s arms, discovering how potent something as simple as a kiss could be.
She savored the taste and the touch of him, the raw wildness, the controlled strength. Her hands explored his broad back and shoulders, her fingers slid up his neck into the heavy black fall of his hair. She pressed herself against him, noting on some distant level that she fit him perfectly. Sparks seemed to radiate from each point where their bodies touched.
His voice was low and deep, like the rumble of thunder, as he whispered her name. She felt his hands brush against her breasts, felt the proof of his desire. A spiral of exhilaration rushed through her, a feeling of feminine power. He wanted her. And she wanted him. Here. Now.
She made a soft sound of protest when he took his mouth fr
om hers.
Chase took a deep breath and then, with great force of will, he let her go. She looked up at him through eyes dazed with passion. He could see the pulse pounding in the base of her throat, hear the uneven tenor of her breathing. If only she were his woman, he thought desperately, if only he had the right to plant his seed within her. But he was afraid to trust in her love, afraid to admit he loved her, for fear he would lose her as he had lost everyone else he had ever loved. And always, in the back of his mind, loomed the thought that she belonged to Dusty.
He ran a hand through his hair, took a deep, calming breath. “We should go.”
She gazed up at him through long dark lashes. “Go? Now?” He nodded.
“We can travel for a few more hours before we find a place to spend the night.”
Beth blinked at him. “We could spend the night here.”
He shook his head. He needed to put some space between them, needed some time to get his desire for her under control. No matter how tempting it might be, he would not take her here, in the dirt, like some wild beast. He would not defile her as if she was a woman of easy virtue. She deserved better than that.
Turning away, he picked up his shirt and slipped it on, then went to the horses, tightening the cinch on the roan, and then on the sorrel. Taking up the reins, he led the horses to Beth.
His gaze held hers for a long moment, and then he lifted her into the saddle and handed her the sorrel’s reins. She took them without a word, but the promise he read in her eyes was more meaningful than anything she could have said.
Chapter Eleven
Jenny drew rein beside Ryder. Removing her hat, she ran a hand through her hair, then smiled at her husband. “It’s been a long time since we rode up this way.”
“Too long,” Ryder replied. Dismounting, he lifted Jenny from the saddle. “What’d you bring for lunch?”
“Oh, the usual. Fried chicken and potato salad. A couple of apples for the horses. Chocolate cake for you.”
“Sounds good.” He spread a blanket on the grass while she removed the picnic basket from the back of her saddle, unsaddled the horses while she unpacked their lunch.
“Looks good,” Ryder remarked. Sitting cross-legged on the blanket across from her, he reached for a chicken leg. “Smells good, too.”
“Well, of course it’s good,” Jenny exclaimed. “I made it, didn’t I?”
Ryder grinned at her. “And a fine cook you are, too, Jenny girl.”
“I should think so, after all these years.”
Ryder took a bite of chicken, his expression thoughtful. “They’ve been good years, haven’t they?”
“The best. Remember the first time we came here? You threatened to put a fish down the front of my dress.”
Ryder laughed. “I remember.”
“You should. You made me tell you what a mighty fisherman you were.”
“And a mighty hunter?”
“The mightiest,” Jenny said, mimicking the words she had said so many years ago.
Ryder smiled roguishly. “You also told me I was a mighty lover.”
“So I did,” Jenny murmured with a grin. “And it’s still true.”
“Is it?” He wiped the grease from his hands and put the basket aside.
“What are you doing?”
With a shake of his head, he took the chicken leg from her hand and tossed it over his shoulder. And then, with a wicked grin, he reached for her. “I want to prove I’m still a mighty lover.”
“Here?”
“Why not?”
“But, what if someone comes?”
“You didn’t worry about that twenty years ago.”
“But…”
He silenced her protests the best way he knew how. He kissed her, long and hard, until she melted against him, soft and supple and pliant. She smelled of fresh-baked bread and fried chicken, of lilac water and powder and scented soap. And woman. His woman. It was the most intoxicating scent he’d ever known.
He deepened the kiss as he bent over her, until she was lying on the blanket. He covered her body with his, his hands cupping her face as his tongue plundered her mouth. She tasted of chicken and lemonade and warm, willing woman. His woman.
Slowly, as though he had all the time in the world, he kissed her, his lips caressing her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the curve of her cheek, the pulse that throbbed in her throat. He smiled as a low moan of pleasure whispered past her lips. He knew, after all these years, what she liked.
His hands slid down her arms, stroking softly, moving to the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, along her thighs. She moved restlessly beneath him, her hands delving under his shirt, her nails skimming over his bare back, cupping his hips, drawing him closer.
With the ease of long practice, he undressed her and then himself.
“You’re still a mighty lover,” she purred, her eyes slumberous with desire. “But then, you always were.”
“And you always tempted me beyond the power to resist.”
She laughed softly as his body molded itself to hers, steel sheathed in satin. And she was a young woman again, willing to risk any danger to be with the man she loved beyond all else.
She held him tight, her body moving in unison with his, wishing, for one fleeting moment, that she could be that young woman again, that her hair wasn’t streaked with gray, that her skin was still youthful and unlined by time. And then she looked in his eyes and knew that, to Ryder, she would always be that young woman, just as he would always be the tall, dark, dangerous man she had fallen in love with.
And then there was no more time for thought, only the feeling of belonging, of rapture, as ecstasy and pleasure blossomed within her…
With a sigh, Jenny snuggled against Ryder, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest, the blanket pulled over both of them.
“Have you talked to Dusty lately?” she asked.
“Last night. He came home pretty late.”
“I wish I knew what to say to him. He seems so withdrawn.”
“He’s bad hurt, Jenny girl, but he’ll get over it.”
“Will he?”
“I think so. I think his pride’s hurt, more than anything else.”
“How can you say that? He loves her.”
“Maybe, but…”
“But what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I like Beth well enough, but I never thought she was quite right for Dusty.”
Jenny propped herself up on one elbow and stared down at her husband. “You never said anything to me.”
“I never said anything to him, either.”
“I thought they were perfect for each other.”
“Who knows, maybe they are.”
“But?”
Ryder ran a hand through his hair. “Dusty’s always been down to earth, hard-working. You know what I mean. He wants a home and a family. He wants to make something of himself. He wants to make a difference in the valley. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’ve always sensed a wild streak in Beth.”
“A wild streak!” Jenny exclaimed, sitting up. “Are we talking about the same girl? Why, she’s always been a perfect lady.”
“Maybe, but I think there’s more simmering under the surface than she’s let on.”
Jenny shook her head. “Goodness, Ryder, I’ve never even heard the girl raise her voice.”
“Yeah, well, it’s always the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for. I remember a girl who was afraid to talk back until she took some good advice, and then…”
“And then I set Kayitah and Alope on their ear,” Jenny said. Grinning, Ryder sat up and gave her a playful punch on the arm. “Right the first time.”
“‘Give ’em hell, honey’, that’s the advice you gave me.” She laughed with the memory. “When I got back to the lodge, Alope told me to get the wood, and I told her to get it herself.” And that night, when Kayitah had reached for her, she had pushed him away.
“Every time. Whenever I was in trouble or lonely and in need of comfort, you’ve been there. I was hoping Dusty would find what we have with Beth.”
“I know, but I don’t think Beth is the kind of girl who would have been happy being married to a lawman, and I don’t think Dusty will be happy doing anything else, except maybe running for governor.”
“Governor! Ryder Fallon, where are you getting these crazy ideas?”
“You saying our son isn’t good enough to be governor?”
“Of course not, but…he’s never said anything about wanting to run for public office.”
“He’s a sheriff.”
“That’s hardly the same thing. Twin Rivers is just a small town. But governor!” Jenny smiled. “He’d be good at it, wouldn’t he?”
“He’ll be good at whatever he sets his mind to,” Ryder replied.
“Where do you suppose Beth met Chase?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
“They can’t know each other very well. She’s lived here all her life, and Chase has never been here before. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe it was love at first sight, sort of like you and me.”
Jenny made a face at him. “Be serious.”
“I am being serious. I loved you the minute I saw you, Jenny girl.” He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his hands, her lips still swollen from his kisses.
“Dusty’s a big boy,” he murmured, running his tongue along the curve of her neck. “He can take care of himself.”
His tongue laved her ear. “Chase is all grown up, too.”
His hand cupped her breast. “And Beth’s not our concern.”
“I know, but…” Her voice trailed off as his lips rained kisses along her shoulder, and then he was lying back on the blanket, drawing her down on top of him, crushing her close, and all rational thought fled her mind as his hands and lips worked their familiar magic.
* * * * *
Chase the Wind (Apache Runaway Book 2) Page 10
