by Paty Jager
“Have you ever killed anyone with this?” She slipped the blade into the bread, carving even slices. He watched her use the knife with respect. She put two slices together and handed them to him.
“Why do you want to know?” He took the offering and continued to study her.
“You’re avoiding answering me, so I take that as a yes.” She examined the knife. “Why do you keep it in a boot sheath rather than on your belt?”
“Because honest men don’t use weapons for defense and dishonest men deserve to be surprised.”
She didn’t even flinch at his answer, only nodded her head and chewed on the bread. “Makes sense.”
“Why do you wear your gun everywhere? Even to bed?” He’d wondered if she’d take the holster off when she went to sleep last night. She hadn’t and slept as though she’d done it before.
“Out here you never know who might try to take advantage of a woman.” She narrowed her eyes and he laughed.
“I wasn’t taking advantage of you. I was taking advantage of your heat. You blocked the fire.” And he couldn’t resist the way her body curled so perfectly against his. He blew out air and pried his thoughts away from the way she felt or he’d be stiff again. He could tell from her insinuations earlier, she didn’t have a clue about men and their needs. Her mother had done a real poor job of bringing her daughter up in the world. He wasn’t sure the best way to teach her. Explain or show. Damn. There he went again. Thinking things he shouldn’t.
“And I wasn’t the one who was scared of the coyotes.” He grinned when she glared at him.
“I won’t be tonight, I can assure you.” She stuffed the last of the bread in her mouth and stood. Bending, she picked up her saddle and hauled it over to her mare.
He jumped to his feet and helped her place the saddle on the horse’s back. Their hands touched, and they both stopped. He stared into her eyes. He’d never been one to let a chance go by. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against her soft mouth.
She started to pull back. He placed a hand behind her head, to keep her sweet lips under his. After holding her during the night and keeping his body restrained, he had to at least experience the taste one more time.
A sigh escaped her parted lips, and he hesitantly deepened the kiss.
Maeve leaned against him. The sensations of his mouth on hers, his hand cradling her head, and his body against hers made her feel alive and cherished. No one had ever wanted her. Not her mother. Maybe her father. But why had he left if he did? This man, kissing her and making her knees weak, had left a job to help her discover her father’s past.
And he wanted her. He groaned and pulled her firmly against him, his hands roaming up and down her back, forming her to him. The heat of his hands and the firmness of his body against hers made the juncture of her legs throb. It was a sensation unlike anything she’d encountered.
Her hands, drifted up his chest. The fuzzy flannel beneath her palms contrasted with the solid muscle underneath. Her hands tingled. What would they do if she touched his skin?
He shifted and something hard rubbed between his lower region and her lower body. She slid a hand down to see what it could be. He had a stick in his pants! She jumped back and he groaned.
“W-why do you have a stick—in-in-” she couldn’t finish, just pointed to his crotch.
His smile was tight, and he winced as he walked away from her horse. “Tighten the cinch. We’ll discuss it as we ride.” His arthritic gait resembled earlier when he’d risen from the ground.
****
Zeke looked over at Maeve. They’d traveled in silence most of the morning. He’d explained the feelings a man gets and what happens to a certain appendage. She’d asked a few questions, but spent most of the time just staring ahead as they trotted at a steady pace toward The Dalles.
He stopped his horse under a large cottonwood by a stream. “Let’s give the horses a drink and a rest,” he said, dismounting and leading his horse to the water.
She dismounted and stretched. This had to be taking a toll on her backside and thighs. He was pretty sure as a teacher she didn’t get a chance to do this much riding.
He loosened the cinch and let the horse graze. Scanning the area, he took a seat on the ground. Maeve stood a short distance away, looking perplexed.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asked, motioning for her to take a seat next to him.
She glanced at the spot, then at his face. “I don’t want to cause you any, you know, problems.”
He laughed. “You can sit next to me. I’m not going to explode.”
Cautiously, she lowered to sit about two feet from him.
“You don’t have to act any different around me. Just know that there will be times, like this morning when I can’t control the urges I have for you.” He pulled off his gloves and cupped her chin in the palm of his hand. “I only have these urges because I care for you.”
Her eyes glistened. The uncertainty he saw in their depths, squeezed his chest.
“I will never touch you intimately unless you want it. As much as it will hurt, and I don’t mean just physically, I will never touch you other than kissing and hugging unless you ask.”
Maeve peered into his dark brown eyes. She was still trying to make sense of the information he’d told her. How had she become twenty-two and not known about a man and a woman—the intimacies? How could her mother have let her grow up being so naïve? What if she had run into a man who didn’t have Zeke’s good qualities?
She gasped thinking what could have happened to her, not knowing this information.
“What’s wrong? Do you hurt somewhere?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I could rub it for you.”
She shook her head. “I just thought…what if I ran into a man who, unlike you, didn’t care about my feelings. I could have been,” she gulped, “compromised.” She studied his face. Anger flashed in his eyes then disappeared.
“I’ll never let anyone touch you.”
“But you aren’t always around.” She reached out to him. “I do enjoy your company, but Zeke, you can’t always be here protecting me.”
“If some man tries to touch you, shoot him.” The coldness of his words made her shiver.
“I-I can’t shoot every man who touches me. I’d be in jail.”
“I don’t mean literally. I mean, if it doesn’t feel right.” He put a hand on her shoulder and slid it down her arm. “Does that bother you?” he asked.
Warmth rolled down her arm in the wake of his hand. “No. It-it makes me feel safe.”
He scrunched his brow. “What about Albert Simmons? Has he ever touched you?”
What did the nasty old man who was always begging food and money have to do with this conversation? “No, I don’t believe he’s touched me.”
“But what kind of feelings do you get when you see him?”
“The hair on my arms tingle, and my lip curls.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. If a man touches you and you have that kind of feeling—don’t let them get any closer. And if they do,do what you have to.” Again, that cold disregard for life. Why had she not seen this side of him before?
“Come on, I want to make good time today, so we get into The Dalles before dark tomorrow.” Zeke held out his hand to help her up.
She accepted the offer and stood. He stood so close, her breasts brushed against his chest. His head dipped, and his lips descended.
The heat of his kiss scorched through her body. If she continued to allow him kisses and his hands to roam over her body, as they were now, would they end up having the intimacy he spoke about earlier? For some reason, the thought didn’t scare her, but rather elicited excitement.
A horse nickered, and he pulled away. Maeve wobbled a bit, then snapped straight at the sound of hooves and wheels.
Zeke collected the horses and handed the reins of her horse to her as a freight wagon plodded along the road a short distance from their resting spot.
When they were
both mounted, he leaned toward her. “Just so you know. I would never compromise you.”
“I know.” She flashed him a smile. “And I’d never compromise you.” She kicked her horse into a trot and laughed as she sped down the road catching and passing the freight wagon. Waving at the driver, she felt a light-heartedness she didn’t remember ever feeling. Surely, she did when she was younger, before her father’s disappearance.
The sound of an approaching horse reminded her of the importance of this trip: to discover the pasts of her father and Zeke’s, and to learn if there was a future for herself and the man riding up behind her.
Chapter 7
Dusk settled along the empty stretch of road when Zeke finally called a halt to the day. Ahead of him the road disappeared into the river they’d been following.
“We can find a spot to spend the night over there by that bluff.” He pointed to a solid rock wall away from the path.
Maeve barely nodded her head. She wasn’t used to this kind of travel. Tomorrow night he’d put her up in a bed in the best hotel in town.
He dismounted, loosened the cinch, and let his horse drink its fill. The shuffle of feet and tired cadence of the mare had him sympathizing with the two females. He’d been a greenhorn once. The pace they’d kept since leaving Sumpter was close to a pony express rider’s pace.
“Let me take care of your horse.” He took the reins from her hands. “See if you can scrounge up some wood for a fire.”
When she headed up river, he called to her, “Don’t go too far.” The area was open, but the gulley and swales made it easy for someone to sneak up on them.
She nodded and began picking up drift wood along the river bank. He unsaddled the horses, made a fire pit, and gathered dead sagebrush and dry grass to start the fire. Smoke curled toward the sky, releasing the spicy sage tang into the air, as Maeve returned with an armload of wood.
Her nostrils flared. “What is that smell?”
“Haven’t you ever smelled burning sagebrush?” This little whiff was nothing compared to the couple of range fires he’d encountered over the years.
“I guess not. It isn’t the best smelling fuel for a fire.”
“No, but it started the fire to warm our food and make a pot of coffee,” he said, smiling and offering her a hand. He pulled her down beside him. “Sitting behind a desk and chasing rowdy boys isn’t quite the same as putting miles under your horse.”
“I can’t remember when my body ached so much or I’ve felt so exhausted.” She sat cross-legged with elbows resting on her knees, her hands propping up her head.
“Tomorrow night, you’ll have a bed in a hotel. I promise.” He grazed the side of her cheek with his knuckles. Why did this feisty woman bring out his protective nature? Most of the time she could take care of herself and him, but when she showed vulnerability he wanted to protect her.
“Between the hard ground and the saddle, my body feels bruised all over.” She surprised him with a wisp of a smile. Then it disappeared, and he wanted to make it come back if even fleetingly.
“You could sleep on top of me,” he offered, waggling his brows as he opened a can of beans.
“I don’t believe you would be any softer than the ground.”
Her retort shot his eyebrow up in question. “How could I not be softer than the ground?”
She blushed. The color darkened her cheeks as she licked her lips. Jacks and Jezebels. Her innocence when it came to men and women would be his undoing, he knew it as sure as he knew she would be his in the near future.
The splash of horses walking through water snapped his attention back to where it should have been. He placed the can of beans on a rock close to the fire and wiped his knife on his pant leg before slipping it into the boot sheath.
Maeve gasped and stiffened beside him. He placed a hand on hers. “Let’s see who they are. Don’t panic, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He squeezed her hand and stood, waiting for the travelers to approach the fire.
Three horses and riders rode toward the fire. The sun had disappeared, but the moon cast a soft glow over the strangers. He sized up the intruders quickly. It was warm and dry enough to go without oilskins, yet they all wore them. The glint of metal escaped the opening of the leader’s long coat.
Zeke stepped between Maeve and the riders. She grasped the back of his shirt and pulled herself to stand beside him.
“Mind if we share your fire?” the lead rider asked, leaning forward.
“We’ll just pull our dinner. You’re welcome to the fire,” Zeke said, using a hand to move Maeve farther behind him.
The other two riders dismounted and started to lead their horses toward the mare and gelding.
“I’d prefer if you tied your horses over yonder,” he said, pointing the opposite of where his horses grazed.
The mounted man nodded in that direction and stepped down off his horse. When the two walked by, he handed his reins to the closest man.
“You’re not being all that hospitable,” the man said, walking toward him.
Zeke extended his hand. “Just like to keep my stock away from other stock. Never know where or what they could have picked up. Especially if they do a lot of traveling.”
The man ignored his offered hand and sidestepped to get a look at Maeve.
“I’d be hiding something that pretty, too.” When the man reached out to touch her, Zeke slapped his arm away.
“Keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll have to ask you to move on.” He’d dropped his voice to a menacing growl and once again, used an arm to slide Maeve behind him.
The intruder was shorter and wiry. He had no doubt he could take the man, but he couldn’t risk the others getting their hands on Maeve while he did.
The man raised his hands chest high and backed up, laughing. “Boys, guess we know where we stand with this filly.”
The other men walked out of the shadows of the bluff, laughing.
Zeke grasped Maeve’s arm and walked her over to the saddles and horses.
“Stay here. I’m going to get the beans and coffee and come back. We’ll eat and sleep over here.” When she started to open her mouth, he put a finger on her lips. “I know this kind of man. It’s best we stay our distance, but don’t back down if they confront us.”
He walked back to the fire. “We’re done with the fire, it’s all yours.” Zeke picked up the beans and the coffee pot, moving back to the spot he left Maeve. He found the saddles, bedding and horses, but no woman.
The fool woman had to learn to follow orders. He refused to call to her and let the men know she wandered around alone. He glanced back at the fire. One of the men was missing.
A pile of boulders farther along the bluff was a likely spot to ambush a woman out wandering. He set the food on the ground away from the horse’s feet and headed along the bluff, staying to the shadows. He rounded the first boulder.
A man had a hand over Maeve’s mouth and one around her middle. He hauled his body back in an attempt to throw her to the ground like a calf about to be branded.
Zeke snuck up behind him and wrapped an arm around the assailant’s neck, skillfully placing the point of his knife just below the man’s jawbone.
“Let go of the woman or die.”
Maeve fell to the ground when the man opened his arms. He started to struggle, and Zeke slit the skin along the man’s jaw. Holding the knife blade down in the moonlight, the blood dripped onto the man’s face.
“Go back to the fire, gather your friends and get out of here, or I’ll slit all your throats.” He shoved the man forward. When the coward took off running, he cleaned his knife and knelt over Maeve.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, picking her up like a small child. Her arms slid around his neck, and she buried her face in his chest. Tears soaked his shirt as he carried her back to their horses.
He was relieved to see the men arguing. Maeve clung to him as he sat on a rock and watched the group. To his dismay they didn’t saddle up. T
he leader walked over to them, his hand resting on the pistol revealed by his slung-back oilskin.
“I repeat, you ain’t very hospitable.” The man spat tobacco juice at Zeke’s boot. Any other time, he’d have pounded the man’s face, but he had the woman shivering in his arms to think about.
“You came to our fire. Then one of your men assaulted my wife.” Maeve’s head snapped up. He tucked it back under his chin. Now wasn’t the time to let her little dislike of marriage surface. “I call that not being hospitable. Either get on your horses and ride out of here or get over by the fire and stay there.” He glared at the man.
The leader looked from him to the shaking woman in his arms. After what seemed like hours, the man let his oilskin fall over his holster and walked back to the fire. But the group didn’t leave. That was fine. He’d rather be able to keep an eye on them, then think they’d gone and have them double back and kill him and rape Maeve.
He pushed the loose strands of hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “Why did you leave without me?”
“I figured I could just slip behind the rocks and take care of some business.” She hiccupped and ducked her head.
“No. Look at me.” He held her head and made her look into his eyes. “All you had to do was tell me. I would have stood guard. There are times when you can’t be so damned independent. And this was one of them.”
She closed her eyes and nodded her head. He kissed her eyelids and waited for them to flutter open. “It looks like they aren’t going to leave. So let’s eat our dinner and then you lie down and sleep. I’ll make sure they don’t come near you.”
Maeve sat up in his lap. “But you need sleep. We can take turns.”
The smile that curved his lips, didn’t light is eyes. She wondered if he would have killed the man had he done more than assaulted her. Fear prickled the hair on her head. Not of Zeke killing the man, but of what the man had attempted to do.
“No. You need your sleep. You aren’t used to traveling. It’s showing.” His thumb touched her under the eye. “You’ve got circles.”
He pulled the plates and cups out of the saddle bag and dished up their dinner. While she poured them each a cup of coffee, Zeke sliced the bread and watched the men laughing.
