Once their bed had been laid, Joshua helped her remove her dress. The peach colored skirt and jacket puddled on the hay. It would be ruined when it was all over, but she didn't care. This was her time with her love. This was what she'd remember when they were parted. The rest of her garments got tossed in a corner.
He shrugged out of his coat, and she unbuttoned his vest and his shirt. His chest was hard and thickly muscled, with a dark mat of hair in the center. Verity ran her hands over him and reached for his belt. "No, let me," he said. "You lie down."
She lay upon the bedroll, ignoring the scratchy hay that stuck through the blanket, and squirmed with desire. Oh, how she wanted him. Her body moistened as she imagined him in her again.
Soon he was as naked as she, and he knelt between her legs. He leaned over her, putting his forearms and elbows around her head, and kissed her deeply. Their tongues merged, fought, submitted and conquered. Verity's lips tingled when they broke for air. He tasted of coffee, deep, rich, and maybe a little bitter. Bitterness that she also felt at the idea of being separated from him.
He kissed her face as she massaged his back and scratched lightly. She ran her heels down his legs and squeezed him with her thighs. It was slow progress, maybe too slow. She was anxious to be part of him to join and be one. But Joshua was taking his time. He licked her throat at the little hollow in front, and then kissed his way to a breast where he kissed, licked, and sucked her nipple. Electric thrills arched through her and she pulled him closer with her knees, aching to feel his hard cock against her. And feel it she did. He was hard and pulsing, pressing against her mons like a sinful temptation.
Balancing on one arm, Joshua kneaded her breast and slid his hand down her flank to rest it between them. Hard but gentle fingers parted her flesh and rubbed her pleasure nubbin until she moaned and squirmed.
"I want you, Verity."
"I want you, too. Please…" She reached between them and stroked his hardness, squeezing the swollen tissue as she moved up and down along its length. Bolts of pleasure moved from her clit to her belly and up to her nipples, then back down again. She squirmed against him again, letting her grip fall away from his cock. His fingers were so magical, so exciting. He pressed two into her channel and she arched, hoping to drive him deeper. "Yes!"
"Yes," he agreed, moving his fingers in and out of her. "Tell me, love."
"Oh! Oh! Joshua, it feels so good. More. I'm almost… Oh, lord…" One last tap against her bead and the world shifted under her, rocking her at her very foundations. Sparks exploded behind her eyelids as the waves of pleasure washed over her. After a minute, she began to calm, drawing his head down to hers so she could kiss him.
"You now," she whispered against his lips.
"All right. Hold me tight," he said.
Squeezing him when her knees around his waist, she felt him prod her with his hardness. She reached down and cupped his hard buttocks, trying to press him even closer. When that failed, she wriggled against him, hoping to tease him so much that he would take her fast and hard. But Joshua was having none of it. When he entered her, it was slow and steady. It was so good. It was just right, loving him this way.
He rocked against her, drawing in and out, his breath coming faster, and hers matching it. Her nipples rubbed against his chest, her belly slipped against his, the muscles of her sheath tightened around him. He breathed against her temple and the warmth made her hot inside and out.
Saying nothing, he pumped faster, and faster still. She could feel him drawing up, getting ready to come to her. Her own heat had risen to a fever pitch. Her body teetered on the brink of fulfillment. She knew all that she needed was to feel him pulse his seed within her.
When it happened, she arched and cried out. Horses nearby whickered, but she barely registered the sound. Instead, she fell through time, knowing only one thing: she loved this man with her whole being.
He stayed like that, balanced over her until the pulsing stopped. Breathing hard, he finally lowered himself onto her. She didn't feel crushed, she felt cocooned in his love. Blanketed by his devotion.
"Mine," she whispered. "You're mine, Joshua Smith. Don't you forget it."
"I won't, Verity," he said against her forehead. "I'm yours 'till the end of time."
Chapter Sixteen
The rifles had been sold to a renegade, straggling, band of Chiricahua. There was some sort of uprising planned, but Joshua was an outsider, despite his ability to communicate with the chief of the small tribe. They were close-lipped about their plans, and not particularly willing to give away the names of the men who sold them the weapons. However, Joshua's familiarity with their customs seemed to hold sway over their second in command, who revealed the general direction of the gang, how much they'd been paid for the guns, and the number of outlaws.
Joshua wasn't sure how he knew so much about these Apaches, but he did, and he used it to his advantage.
It turned out that there were only four outlaws involved—reasonable odds for Joshua, especially if he could separate the men from each other and take care of them one at a time. The terrain was rough, however, an area of ravines and dry washes that was hot and parched. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd do once he found the men. He hoped they'd kept the wagon, because it seemed unlikely he could take them back to Virtue on foot or by horse. If he had to, he'd tie them to their horses and do it that way, but he hoped he could handle it better.
It took him three more days of searching to find tracks that led him to a deep ravine dotted with saguaro and tumble weeds. Lizards shot away from Horse as the big animal passed. Joshua's supplies had dwindled. The night previous, he'd shot a rattlesnake and ate it for supper, but it wasn't his favorite meal. He missed the family table at the Bucknells', the warm greetings he always got there, and Verity's smiling face across from him.
Mostly, he missed Verity. Resist though he might, he couldn't help being in love with her. It was the thought of going back to her, making something of a life together, that kept him in pursuit of the gang of four.
In the morning, after camping at the edge of the ravine, he smelled smoke. He and Horse traversed down into the ravine, trying to keep from being shadowed or silhouetted by the sun. Following the scent of wood smoke, after an hour or so he heard voices. Horse allowed himself to be tied to a large stand of mesquite, and Joshua followed the sound of the voices and the smell of the smoke. He darted from rock to rock as he got closer, until he could get a good look at the campsite.
As he was getting himself in place, a shadow caught his attention. Someone was silhouetted up at the lip of the ravine. He couldn't make out the person's face, but he did determine that he was wearing a dark hat and clothes. Who else was spying on this encampment, and why?
Instead of staying put in the deep of the ravine, Joshua scrambled back up the canyon, keeping as silent as he could, and found someone picking their way down the shallow side, rock by rock. If he had a horse, whoever the man was, he hadn't ridden it down the canyon within Joshua's sight. Joshua didn't want to make noise, nor did he want this unknown person to alert the men in the camp of his presence. This could be a fifth criminal, just catching up with his gang.
He moved around to get behind the man, came up slowly, and put his left hand over the man's mouth drawing him back into his chest and pinning his arms down by wrapping his strong right arm around the small man. The guy struggled, but after a few moments, calmed. Joshua held him tight with his hand over the intruder's mouth, and he fished the gun off the man's hip and stuffed it at the small of his own back, tucking it behind his belt.
So close to the fellow, he could smell wood smoke in his hair, and a hint of something sweet. Jasmine? What the hell?
Though the man struggled, Joshua held him firmly, coming to realize that this man was awfully curvy for a male. "Don't say a word," Joshua whispered in his ear. "Got that?"
The man nodded.
Joshua turned him around, still gripping the man's arm, ready to hit him in
the head if he had to. But he got the surprise of his life as he got sight of the man.
"Verity!" She was dirty, wearing black men's trousers and a dark blue shirt, blue kerchief and a black hat similar to his own. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He would have liked to yell, but he had to continue to whisper. He released her and she stumbled back a pace.
"Ow! Did you have to grab me so hard? That hurt." At least she kept her voice down.
"Have you been following me the whole time?"
She nodded, looking a little sheepish, her gaze not meeting his. "I nearly got caught by the Indians, but I hid behind some prickly pear cactus until you left."
"Do you have any idea what they would have done to you if they'd caught you spying on them—on me? Ransom would be the least of your worries."
"Yes, well, they didn't catch me. I can be sneaky too, you know."
He pushed his hat a little back on his head and re-assessed her. She had followed him for days, camping out in the scrub, braving insects, snakes, and who knows what else. She'd gotten dirty, built her own campfires, and slept out under the stars. One little, lone woman had completely fended for herself in the wilderness. Joshua had to admit to himself that he was mighty impressed. But the danger she'd been in! He wished he could spank her right then for doing such a foolish thing, but now was not the time.
Now that he had her, he had to do something with her. And he was so close to catching the criminals, too. So close he could taste the beans in their pot.
"Look," he said, "I think these are the guys I've—we've—been looking for. I can't afford for this to get messed up. Where's your horse?"
"Up on the rim, about fifty feet out, tied to a little tree."
"Go back up there to your horse and wait. I'll let you know when it's safe to come down."
She shook her head and the tendrils of red hair around her face flew. "Not on your life. I'm here to help you, and that's what I'm going to do."
"Verity—"
Holding a hand up in a stopping gesture, she said, "No argument. You're not doing this alone."
Frustrating little creature! But damned resourceful. He had to give her that. "Fine. Here's your gun back. Can you follow me down the side and sneak around the camp with me?"
She nodded.
"Let's go."
* * *
There were three men sitting around on rocks, and one tucked away under an overhang. The one under the overhang was very still. Maybe he was dead? One had been wounded in the holdup, so perhaps he'd succumbed to his injuries. But why would they not bury him?
Joshua watched the men for a long time, trying to decide on the best way to approach. Should he be a lone traveler "happening upon" fellow travelers? That seemed like a good way to get killed. But he couldn't be sure these were the right men. He skirted the camp further, looking for some evidence of their guilt. Verity had the common sense to wait for him at the mouth of the ravine while he did reconnaissance. As he got to the western edge of the gulch, he heard horses. He found them, hobbled, in a half-shaded area about fifty yards from the encampment. Then he knew he'd found the right men. Daisy snorted, having gotten wind of him.
He couldn't approach his horse without giving himself away, but he was very glad to see him.
If they had his horse, they probably also had the stolen wagon. Any gang stupid enough to keep evidence like a horse was also stupid enough to keep evidence like a wagon. He progressed a little further west in the ravine and saw the wagon. In the back was the case of rifles, open, and two cases of ammunition. Slowly, carefully, he climbed up into the bed of the wagon and took two of the rifles and a few boxes of ammo. He skulked away, going east toward the campsite, and stopped behind a boulder to load the rifles and stuff bullets in his pockets.
Once the rifles were loaded, he went back to where Verity waited. She peeked around a rock just as he was approaching. He hid with her and handed her a rifle. "Can you shoot this?" he whispered.
"I don't know. I can try."
He didn't have time or the means to teach her to shoot. She'd have to do the best she could and they'd just have to hope for the best. He pointed to the sights and said, "Aim with this." Then he pointed to the trigger. "Let your breath out slowly and squeeze. Don't jerk the trigger, just squeeze. Got it?"
"Yes. Squeeze, don't jerk."
"Good. You are my backup. If anything goes haywire, you shoot. You don't have to hit anything—and make damned sure you don't hit me—but I want you to distract them if necessary. If we make them think they're surrounded by a posse, they might not kill us."
She nodded again and looked at the gun.
Joshua pushed the stock up against her shoulder and whispered, "If you have to shoot, brace yourself before you do. This is a small bore rifle, but it will still have a kick that can knock you on your keester."
"Okay. Brace. Sight. Squeeze."
"Good. Verity, don't be a hero. You're out of your element here."
She nodded, though she didn't meet his gaze.
He tilted her chin up until she had no choice but to look at him. "Promise me."
"Joshua—"
"Promise."
She sighed and nodded. "I promise. No heroics. I shoot if things get out of hand."
Hopefully, she'd mind him. "Right. I'm going down now."
His plan was to get the men away from each other, corner each one, and take him into custody. He crawled a little closer to the encampment, as silent as the rocks and gravel would allow.
As he watched the small group, he spied something shiny on one man's vest. A badge. Why was a criminal wearing a badge? He peered at it, squinting against the sun's glare. It was a marshal's badge.
Then it hit him. It was his badge! He knew who he was suddenly, and the deluge of memories nearly floored him. He sat down behind the boulder and tried to catch his breath. He was Joshua Palmer, US Marshal, in charge of the northern part of the Arizona Territory.
As he sat there, reeling, he remembered hearing gunshots and galloping toward the sound. He saw two men on horseback racing down a dusty trail, heading for the canyons to the south of Prescott, and followed by a careening wagon. They were traveling far faster than a freight wagon or family wagon would go, and every once in a while, one would turn back and shoot behind him, though Joshua couldn't see anything following them.
They barreled down on him, and he took cover, but not before they saw him. The one steering the wagon yelled, "Get him!" and the two others chased him down. He took cover and shot at them, but they'd come upon him too suddenly and he hadn't been able to hide well enough. He used up all his ammunition and the two came at him from both sides, cornering him. They dragged him to the trail where the wagon had stopped. He heard someone moaning, and realized there was an injured man in the back of the wagon. The others were in fine health, however, and they took his weapon, his horse Daisy, and beat the tarnation out of him, finally pistol whipping him on the back of the head. Things had gone dark slowly enough for him to wonder if he was dying, but soon there was nothing but oblivion.
When he'd awakened, he was at the Bucknells'.
"I'm Joshua Palmer," he thought as he sat behind the boulder near the outlaw camp. "I'm a marshal—imagine that. Now all I have to do is take these assholes alive."
The shock of discovering who and what he was passed quickly. He knew now that not only was it important for him to vindicate himself by catching the outlaws, but it was his moral duty as a marshal.
He crouched at the edge of the big boulder again, watching the camp. He waited a long time. Verity must be wondering when he'd make a move. He hoped she'd stay put. The sun was getting low on the horizon, and he knew that once daylight was gone, he'd have to wait until the next day to catch the men. But his patience paid off. One of the gang had to relieve himself and he separated from the group. He came down the ravine a way, directly toward Joshua. He waited for the man to get close enough and open his trousers fly, and then Joshua grabbed him from behind, putting
his hand over the struggling fellow's mouth to keep him quiet. They jostled and the man fought him, but Joshua had him from behind, and was bigger, so the struggle went out of the fellow after a couple of hard minutes. Joshua stuffed a bandana in the man's mouth and tied it in place, then tied the man's hands behind his back. He dragged the criminal toward the wagon and tied him to an axel, far out of reach of the weapons in the wagon bed. After studying the man's face for a minute, Joshua could see how Dave Blanton could mistake the two of them for each other. Ice blue eyes stared angrily back at him, topped by dark brows and brown hair. Their facial features were dissimilar, but a kerchief tied over the lower half of his face would disguise that well enough. This was also the man with the badge. Joshua took it back and pinned it to his own chest.
That felt a helluva lot better.
Next, he had to separate another man from the pair left moving around the campsite. He waited, deciding that eventually, the outlaws would realize their man had not come back and had been away a good long while. Sure enough, one of them came looking. He didn't go far enough away from the campsite, calling the captured man's name instead.
"John! John! Where the fuck are you?" He studied the terrain for a moment, and took a few steps further away from the camp. Joshua tossed a pebble a short distance away from himself, and the man took the bait. "John? 'Zat you?" He followed the sound of the pebble, giving Joshua the perfect opportunity to grab him.
Once again, there was a struggle, this one rather noisy, but Joshua overcame the man and tied him to the other axel of the wagon.
The noise of their struggle had reached the encampment. Joshua couldn't see the third criminal anymore, but he did spy a rifle barrel moving around behind a boulder on the other side of the fire. It was either his prey or—heaven help them—Verity. He took up his new rifle and carefully approached the campsite, hiding behind boulders and tangles of mesquite bushes as he went. He crawled the last few yards.
The Doctor's Daughter: A Virtue, Arizona Novel Page 14
