Ghosts. Spirits. With a determined effort, Jessica pushed aside the haunting words and walked toward the path. Lord knew what kind of concoction the men would come up with from their various saddlebags — probably some sort of meatless son of a gun stew. Her mouth watered at the thought of the thick pieces of fried ham she had stuffed between the slices of bread on her sandwich.
Chapter 2
As soon as Jessica's booted foot hit the path, she realized it was a well traveled indentation, wide enough for a person on horseback. She followed the trail a ways until it began bending around the hillside, where it would take her out of sight of the camp site. Pausing, she glanced back again to see if anyone had noticed her departure.
The figures below her were smaller now, and the two men who stood up from among the otherwise occupied men moved to make their way to the top of the north ridge. At least they had remembered her order to post a guard.
For just a second she pondered whether it might be safer to join the two guards and try to call Cinnabar from that position. But the mood the men were in would probably have them spooking at every shadow and her giving them the scathing edge of her tongue for their foolishness. No. She would prove her point about their asinine fear of ghosts by showing them that even a woman wasn't afraid of the dark.
"Go back."
Jessica cocked her head. She could swear she heard a whisper carried on the wind, a warning note in the sibilant hiss. Probably just a trick played by the night breeze blowing down the hillside, she rationalized. Squaring her shoulders, she marched on up the trail.
A tremulous wail set Jessica's heart thumping until she recognized the voice of a screech owl perched in one of the trees higher on the hill. At least, she thought that's what it was. Somehow it didn't sound exactly like the owls she heard back in Wyoming. She pushed the unwelcome thought of the old superstition of the screech owl's cry portending death out of her mind when her stomach growled.
A few tendrils of mist crawled down the hillside in the cooling temperature, but when Jessica glanced up at the top of the hill she climbed, she found it clear. The mist would settle into the lower elevations as the night wore on, and she would wake up in the morning with her bedroll covered with dew. She had spent enough nights out in the open back at the ranch to know this was a common occurrence.
Jessica rounded a huge boulder beside the trail and stopped abruptly. Several yards in front of her, the trail ended at a cliff face on the side of the hill.
"Now, this doesn't make any sense at all." She spoke aloud into the silence, more for the comfort of her own voice than any fear of the darkness, she assured herself. "Why would anyone be using this trail at all if it doesn't go anywhere except to that cliff?"
Setting her hands on her hips, she glared at the offending obstacle in her path, then up again to the top of the hill. Maybe in daylight she might be able to find a way around the cliff, but she sure as heck couldn't see any way to do that now.
"Looks like I'm going to have to go back there and face those stupid scaredy-cats," she muttered under her breath.
"Go back!"
Clearly she heard the whisper this time and the hair rose on the back of her neck when a low keening sound followed the words. Her heart gave a lurch of fear as a cloud scuttled across the moon, momentarily dimming the light as she vainly strived to peer through the dimness.
The pain of her nails biting into the palms made Jessica gasp and she unclenched her hands and shook her head in ridicule of her actions. Someone had to be playing a trick on her — someone human, since she sure as hell didn't believe in ghosts. Her chin lifted in stubborn challenge of the obviousness of the ploy to frighten her, and she took a couple steps forward, scanning the area again through the thickening mists impeding her vision.
In one of the heaviest portions of mist, an apparition appeared that froze the very marrow in her bones.
The ghostly head of an Indian chief rose through the mists, eyes red and glowing, the feathered bonnet tumbling down his back outlined in shining phosphorus. The face slowly climbed higher in the mist and the dimmer outline of the chief's body came into view, transparent enough for her to make out the shadow of the rocks behind it.
Go back. There is evil here.
The unearthly sound of the voice prickled her scalp in fear and sweat broke out on her forehead. The soft, downy hairs on her arms rose under a spreading onrush of dread and the scream building in her chest struggled to make it past her paralyzed throat muscles. She gulped against the restriction as her knees trembled and her mind shouted for her to run.
Jessica's legs wilted under her and she threw out a hand to the boulder by her side. An inky blackness swirled on the edge of her vision. She wouldn't faint. She never fainted. She wouldn't.
Her numb hand refused to grasp the boulder and slowly she sank to the ground, her terrified gaze still on the unholy thing before her. Struggling against the threatening unconsciousness, she tore her eyes from the apparition with a mental wrench and wrapped her arms around her knees. Curled in a tight ball, she labored against the paralysis in her chest, shoulders heaving.
"Shit!"
A small cascade of rocks rattled down the hillside, unheard by Jessica over the pounding in her chest. Her first awareness was of a pair of comforting hands gripping the iron-tense muscles in her shoulders and a gravelly voice in her ear.
"Take some deep breaths. Don't hold your breath in like that or you'll faint. Oh, hell."
A sharp thump between Jessica's shoulder blades loosened her muscles and she drew in a conscious saving draught of oxygen. Blew it out. Then another in.
"There. You've got it now."
And she also had enough breath now to scream. She lifted her head and drew in another immense inhalation. Her throat muscles tensed.
The man behind her guessed her intention. A callused hand covered her mouth, the fingers and heel gripping her cheeks and the palm pressing hard against her lips. His other arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tightly back against his chest, effectively immobilizing her against any effort to escape.
Jessica's eyes flew to the spot on the hillside where the apparition had stood, but she found only empty mist. She knew where it had disappeared to — and Ned had been right. A real, flesh and blood body held her, not some ghostly spirit that had decided to rise from its grave and haunt the countryside.
And she had reacted in the same spineless manner as her hands moments before. Her growing humiliation and desire for retaliation chased any lingering cobwebs from her mind, sharpening her senses. She had only herself to depend on to get out of this.
With a conscious effort, Jessica relaxed her muscles and felt the tentative loosening of the hand on her mouth. Her violent wrench tore her face free and she threw her head back, encountering a hard chin behind her.
"Ouch, you little wildcat."
Jessica took advantage of the man's pain to grip the little finger of the hand he held on her waist. Frantically she threw all her strength into bending it back until she thought surely it would break. He gave a grunt of pain and pulled his hand away. Jessica scrambled free, another scream building in her throat, though she had little hope of it traveling as far as the camp site. She had walked too far.
A hand grabbed her booted foot and the breath meant for the scream left Jessica's chest in a whoosh as she fell again to the hard packed trail. A hard object pressed into the side of her tender stomach — her derringer. Good Lord. She must have been terrified a moment ago to even forget she had the little gun. Swiftly she shifted around and pulled the small pistol from her pocket.
The man batted the gun away and it flew from her fingers in an arch, tumbling down the hillside. A cry of dismay left Jessica's lips, cut off abruptly when the man's body covered hers and he thrust his bandanna between her lips and tied it behind her head. Panic-stricken, she struggled under the threatening weight, her body snaking from side to side, feet scrabbling in the dirt and rocks beneath her. She wouldn't let herself b
e taken!
"No you don't. Not this time," the presence holding her said.
Quicker than she thought possible, she found her hands tied with a rawhide thong he jerked from his leggings and her feet followed a bare second later. A picture of the calves bound for branding incongruously flashed in her mind, furthering the embarrassment of her predicament.
The man rose to his knees, his body shadowing the light from the moon. "Look, I'm sorry as hell about this, but it seems like the only way you'll listen to me. Damn it, I'm not going to hurt you."
Terror-stricken eyes gazing up at him told the man she didn't believe a word he said. He leaned closer to her, his breath feathering on her face and his hand unconsciously stroking the silky strands of hair away from her face.
"I mean it," he said quietly. "I'll carry you back closer to your camp and let you go if you promise me to talk those men with you into leaving in the morning. It's not safe for you around here."
Jessica stared up into the dark countenance above her, eyes straining as she tried to make out his features in the darkness and forcing her muscles into immobility. His body and the rock above them shadowed most of the moonlight and she could only see dark, rather longer than usual hair spilling around the man's face.
And lips — lips just full enough to be sensuous. The thought crept into her mind before she could stop it. Lips that came closer again as he whispered in a manner meant to soothe her.
"That's better, pretty lady. Now, if you'll behave yourself, I'll pick you up."
His body straightened and he rose over her, stretching his muscles for a moment before he reached back down toward her, legs spread as he tensed himself to pick up her dead weight.
In a swift movement Jessica pulled her knees toward her chest and brought her booted feet up with every bit of strength she could muster toward the juncture of his thighs. Mattie had been right — it worked. She heard his muffled grunt and rolled away from him as he collapsed a few feet from her.
Ignoring the sharp stones digging into her knees, Jessica scrambled over to the boulder and turned her back to it. Pushing with the hands tied behind her back and her feet, she managed to stand up. Her bound hands threw her off balance for a second, but she steadied herself and spent a precious, useless second working against the binding. The rawhide knot pulled tighter when she twisted against it.
She couldn't waste any more time. Searching with her fingers, she located a sharp projection on the boulder and sawed the rawhide binding against it. She glanced at the man, expecting to see him still doubled over in misery. Her arms stilled and her eyes flew wide in horror as a completely different sight met her eyes.
He sat watching her and as soon as her eyes fell on him, he slowly rose to his feet. He advanced on her — one step — two. He towered over her and Jessica's head met the resistance of the rock behind her as she sought to keep her terrified gaze on his face. Now the moonlight filtered down on them and she could make out eyes even darker than her own and high cheekbones set beside a straight nose.
"You didn't really think that little tap would disable me, did you, pretty lady?"
She most certainly had. Indeed, she had noticed his hesitant step as he advanced and the slight limp. But she also recognized the thread of steel mixed with the anger in his voice. She cringed against the rock, the hard surface biting into her tender back.
"You wouldn't listen, would you?" he went on in a softer voice when she continued to stare frantically at him. "I only wanted you to get your fanny back to camp where you'd be safe. A woman's got no damned business wandering around by herself. Hell, these hills are full of panthers and snakes!"
When his hand came out, Jessica tried again without success to shrink back into the unyielding rock. But he only cupped his hand on the side of her face and stood staring down at her, head shaking from side to side in consternation. His thumb stroked the soft curve of her cheekbone above the bandanna in her mouth.
"So now what, huh, pretty lady? Do I turn you loose and let you run screaming to high heaven back into camp? Or do I take you with me and have a band of angry cowhands swarming around here while they look for you?"
Jessica wrenched her head upright with a start. Why, she'd been leaning into that cupped hand, enjoying the feathering stroke of his thumb on her cheek and the soothing sound of his voice. The bandanna gagged her when she gasped in a startled breath and a fit of coughing overtook her.
Hastily the man hooked his thumb into the bandanna and pulled it free from her mouth before he untied it. He gathered her close to him, entwining his fingers in the silky mass of curls and drawing her head down onto his chest. As soon as her coughing abated, he scooped her up and set her on an outcropping of stone on the other side of the trail.
For a long second Jessica only stared at him. Her tongue came out and she slowly flickered it around her dry lips, moistening them. Her eyes widened when she heard him give a soft grunt under his breath, and she found herself unable to tear her gaze away from his face, now on a level with her own.
"What...." Jessica cleared her throat when her voice came out in a croak. "What are you going to do with me now?"
He took a step closer, and Jessica shuddered slightly and closed her eyes. A whiff of mint-tinged breath wafted across her face and his hands cupped her shoulders, then stroked down her back to her bound wrists. His fingers worked with the knot for a few seconds and her hands fell free.
"Open your eyes. Look at me."
She obeyed the whispered command and found his lips hovering a scant inch from her own, his eyes mesmerizing her.
"What am I going to do with you now?" he growled softly. "Right now, I'm going to show you one of the other dangers a pretty little lady like you might run into wandering around alone in the dark. And to satisfy myself, I'm gonna see if that mouth of yours tastes as sweet as it looks."
Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance separating their lips. His lips gently took hers.
Not gently for long. He wrenched his mouth away and drew in a startled breath at the impact the contact had on his senses.
Some tiny thread of reason cried in Jessica's mind, telling her the thing to do now was scream. Instead, her lips almost instinctively followed his and she held her head back, offering them freely again.
For a silent moment he stared down at her before he bent slowly to taste her again. Her lips clung once more to his, and he gave a moan of surrender as he pulled her up to gather her close to the length of him. Wildly, greedily he answered her longing with a matching emotion.
Her arms went around his neck and she clung to him, glorying in the feelings of warmth and safety washing over her. It chased away any last lingering vestige of the fear she had felt earlier.
Jessica didn't even give a semblance of having heard the shout, but it clearly met the man's ears. Reluctantly this time he drew his mouth away and lifted her again onto the outcropping. In answer to the puzzled longing in her eyes, he cupped her chin in his palm.
"Later, pretty lady. Maybe we'll get a chance to finish this later. Right now, I think I hear rescue on the way for you." He continued under his breath, "And not a moment too soon."
Jessica's face flamed as reason returned. She sat frozen in disbelief at her own actions as the man drew a knife from the scabbard on his belt to cut the rawhide binding her feet. But she didn't miss the tenderness in his gesture when he rose and smoothed her disheveled hair back from her face, his fingers lingering for a second in the silkiness.
"You won't scream, will you?" he asked quietly. "I need time to get away."
Scream? Her muddled head couldn't even remember what the word meant. Somehow she found herself shaking her head no.
"Jessica! Jessica, where are you?" The shout sounded from close by — too close.
"I've got to go." He turned away, then stopped abruptly. "Oh, hell!"
He buried his fingers in her hair one last time and kissed her deeply. "Bye, pretty lady," he murmured when he raised his head. "Maybe we
'll meet again."
Jessica blinked and he was gone.
"Jes! Jes, answer me!" Ned's voice came from a few scant yards away, just beyond the huge boulder. "God, Patches. You don't think it could've got Jes?"
A spill of lantern light reached Jessica from down the trail. Just as she drew in a breath to assure Ned she was just around the bend ahead of him, she heard Patches's voice.
"Look, Ned. We're still on the right track. Here's another boot print."
For some reason the anxiety she caught in Patches's voice pleased her. He and Ned deserved to worry after their asinine actions this evening. Telling herself she was only keeping her silence for spite, Jessica still couldn't stop herself from glancing around for the man who had been with her an instant ago.
"I need time to get away, pretty lady." She could almost swear the gravelly whisper was real, instead of an echo in her mind.
"Oh!" Jessica's breath escaped from her pursed lips. What the hell was she doing — protecting a strange man? A strange man who had....
"N...Ned." She had to draw in her breath again when the word barely whispered past her lips. "Ned! I'm coming!"
Welcome light bathed Jessica after she slid from the outcropping and started forward to meet the men.
"Where the hell have you been?" Ned's voice stopped Jessica in her tracks.
"I've been looking for Cinnabar," she fired back at him. "I didn't figure I'd get any help out of that bunch of scaredy-cats back in camp!"
"That stallion of yours went up over the north hill," Ned shot right back. "Why'd you climb this one?"
"Oh, for heavens sake, Ned. This hill was the closest and I figured I'd climb up here and whistle for him. We don't know which way he went after he bolted."
Montana Surrender Page 3
