Theresa Michaels

by The Merry Widows Sarah

  The graceful, feminine twist of her body almost made him lose control. His tongue dipped into the tiny indentation of her navel. She stilled as he rubbed his cheek over her skin, his warm breath another caress to her flesh. She arched upward, needing to touch more of him as badly as she needed him to touch her. She lifted her hips to the heat of his hand and barely heard his harsh, approving whisper at her readiness.

  She welcomed the intimate caress of his fingers, a feeling of urgency communicating itself to her. She nearly cried out when his mouth tasted her. The sensations ran through her, twin assaults that left her with panting breaths. She barely felt the edge of his teeth, shuddered almost violently from excitement.

  “Rio? Please. I can’t stand any more.”

  But he didn’t stop. She clutched at his shoulders, crying out.

  Rio deliberately deepened the passionate intimacy he had never shared with another woman. Sarah’s cries, the heated scent of her, every move of her body was surely going to drive him over the edge.

  He felt the way her whole body tightened with unbearable tension. Her fingertips dug hard into his shoulders. Her voice was tight and husky and suddenly she tremored against him, releasing a plea his own body refused to let him deny.

  It was long moments before he heard her whisper for him to come to her. Her hands smoothed the skin on his chest, gently rubbing the hard, pebbled tips that drew new hunger from him.

  “I want you. I want you inside me. All of you. Everything. Isn’t that what you wanted? No holding back this time.”

  She entwined his fingers with hers, bringing his hand to her mouth. She held his gaze with hers as she gently bit the fleshy pad at the base of his thumb. The shudder that raced through his body brought a smile to her lips. She kissed where her teeth had touched as he moved upward and covered her with his body.

  The knowledge that she would make his body feel the same trembling excitement that held her own added a potency she had never known. She loved the way his aroused body pressed against her. Her every breath was filled with his scent

  “Rio?”

  “Yes, Sarah, my Sarah,” he whispered, seeing the dark, fevered look in her eyes. His body was rigid with desire, his hips thrusting against her. He nipped her lower lip roughly, possessively.

  “I need you, Sarah.”

  “As I need you.” She tossed her head from side to side, unable to control the shaking that took hold of her body. She was desperate now for the promised fulfillment.

  “Varlebena iszáń. Varlebena.”

  That word. She had heard it before. Sarah gave up the struggle to remember before it truly began. Her response to him ran as deep in her blood as his response to her was.

  Rio groaned and pushed himself against the damp. core of her body. Sarah cried out, her hips surging to meet him as he entered her deeply.

  A ragged groan came from him as he drove into her. And Sarah knew that this moment of possession bespoke the ultimate surrender. For her. And for him.

  She cried out then, swirled into a gentle savagery that bound her to him, and he to her. Wild, and yet free. There were no questions, only acceptance of its reality.

  She heard the shout of her name on his lips, his own a whisper from hers as they raced toward the shuddering union that celebrated both little death and the renewal of life. She stared into his eyes. She loved him. Only him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Sarah finally came back to her senses, she was aware of Rio lying beside her, his fingers toying with her hair. Her head was on his shoulder, and she moved the little needed to see his shadowed face. He looked so serious that she found herself alarmed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I did not hurt you?”

  “No.” She stretched a little, then winced. She wasn’t able to hide that from him. “Well, maybe I’m a little sore. I have a feeling that’s not all that is worrying you.”

  “Wise Sarah. I cannot stop from remembering the sight of you coming into that cavern. If I had lost you…”

  “But you didn’t. Not me. Not your sons. Leave it be, Rio. And when I finally thought of the risk it was too late. I had to do something. I couldn’t let you die, couldn’t let Gabriel die. Just don’t say that wouldn’t have happened. You and I both know those men intended to kill you.”

  She touched his cheek and drew his head down to her. She kissed him lightly, but with her newfound love.

  “If we are going to talk about risks, then let me take you to task over yours. I know you would have left here, Rio. With the storm they could never have tracked you. If you want, we’ll both claim the other took far more risk with their life.”

  He gathered her closer within the cage of his arms, ignoring the few twinges of his wounds. He shook his head. “Sarah, what is a man to do with a woman who thinks clearly, simply, and then speaks her truth?”

  “I have some wonderful ideas.” She fought a smile. He really sounded vexed with the idea that she was not only ready but able to brush aside what had happened. She didn’t know how to explain to him that what she found was worth any risk. The thought of losing him, losing the boys brought a chill to her flesh.

  Rio, of similar thoughts, drew the quilt over them. He kept her tight to the warmth of his body.

  “Would you promise me never to—”

  “Only if you would promise the same to me.”

  “You are a stubborn woman, Sarah.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you, but yes, I am. Especially when I’m right. And when it matters so much to me.”

  “Go to sleep, iszáń.”

  “I’m not at all sleepy.”

  “There is no need to fear, Sarah. I will keep you safe. This time and for some time to come.”

  It was as close to a promise of staying that he would make. She knew it, and as he called her wise, held her tongue. She wrapped her arm around his waist, needing to hold him. She closed her eyes and refused to allow one frightening second of the day to come back. She’d have to deal with the events of the day, and the knowledge that she had caused death. But not now, not tonight. Tonight belonged to her and Rio.

  But Sarah dreamed. She knew where that lonely gray place had come from. She had first found it in nightmares after she had buried her baby. An absence of color, of sight and sound, a ghost world. Alone. None there to taunt her, none to accuse her. She even remembered the burning of tears that would not cease.

  But that cold, empty place had become a place of refuge. A place without pain, a place where she could lock away all emotion and be numb.

  Alone. She always came back to that, being alone and lonely. A price to pay to retain sanity. After nights without end, she came to understand that if she sealed herself off from feeling anything for anyone, she could never be hurt again.

  Mary and Catherine had cracked her walls.

  Rio came and tumbled them down.

  And that revelation was a gift. She was free to love again. To never be alone.

  Sarah remained unaware that she turned from Rio in her restless sleep. Just as she remained unaware of the tears that soaked into her pillow.

  She stood enraptured with the knowledge that she no longer needed that icy place within herself.

  Rio had given her a gift. Love. Love would allow her to be Sarah again. Open and loving, as she had been once.

  It was then that she remembered the Apache word Rio had whispered to her. Varlebena. And it’s meaning rushed into her mind. Forever.

  Forever. A word and meaning to savor. She clung to the promise implied in that one word and fell into a dreamless sleep, wrapped in the warmth of her love.

  Morning stole her peace. She found herself fighting a new battle.

  “You can’t be serious, Rio. Why let the sheriff know about those men? The cave can be sealed. I’ve already told you that I never knew it was there. And no one mentioned it to me in all the time I’ve lived here. Why take the chance?” His idea brought to mind that he had been in the territorial jai
l and she still didn’t know why.

  Sarah appeared to cradle a cup of coffee between her hands, actually she clutched it. She leaned back against the cupboard’s edge, her booted feet crossed at the ankles, her posture seemingly relaxed. Inside she was drawn tight with tension, afraid to breathe deeply lest she fall apart.

  Calm reason was the only way Rio would continue to listen to her. She knew that, yet it was so hard to keep a lid on her temper. This was one argument she never expected to have with him, and she wasn’t at all sure she would win it.

  “Sarah, please.” Rio, seated at the table with the light from the winter sun warming his back, rubbed the back of his neck. He broke off staring at Sarah to stare at the circling motion he made with his empty cup.

  “We’ve been over this, Sarah. Those men are dead. I’ll tell the sheriff I alone killed them. You had nothing to do with it.”

  “No. I’m not some fragile piece of china that needs your lies to protect it. I did kill—”

  “Sarah!”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, biting her lip. When she looked at him again, it was as if those terror-filled minutes lived in his gaze. She had to look away.

  “Do you truly want me to stay, Sarah?”

  “You know I do,” she answered in a choked voice.

  Rio fought himself not to go to her. If she was near, if he held her in his arms, he would give in to her pleas. And it would always stand between them.

  He told her that, then added, “Try to understand that, agree or not, I am going to town. I do not want to live with this lie and the fear that will come with it. Fear of someone finding out. Sarah, please, you must see that I am right.”

  “All I see is that you are too damn stubborn and honest for your own good!”

  “And would you have a man that had no honor?”

  She was chilled by the softness and the coldness of his voice. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Will you not trust me?”

  “Are you still giving me any choice, Rio?”

  “About this, no. If you want me to take my sons and leave afterward—”

  “No!” She moved then, coming toward him, carefully setting down the cup, then rounding the table to stand beside him.

  But Rio had already pushed his chair back to stand, and caught her close.

  “Sarah. Oh, Sarah, I would not bring sadness to your eyes. Let me do this. Let us try to begin with truth between us. If there is justice nothing will happen to me.” He cupped her chin, tilting her face upward. He met her searching look with a steady gaze.

  “I’ll agree to this madness of yours on two conditions. One, you let me come with you. I told you that the sheriff here is new, but I know him, and others in town.” She held him tight, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Say yes, Rio, or I’ll just follow you.”

  “You give me no choice.”

  “I can’t. I won’t lose you. Besides, we need supplies. Do you think we should try the wagon or packhorses?”

  “Packhorses. The wagon will get mired in the mud. What else?”

  “I want to know why you were in jail?”

  “You trusted me without knowing.”

  “That was then. Now I want to know.” To her surprise, he closed his eyes, his face turned away. “What is it? How bad…”

  “Not bad, Sarah. I still feel shame when I think of that time. When I was drinking, drunk until days ran together. I stole a bottle of whiskey. Some men from town came after me. I ended up in jail and they took my sons to the mission school. I was sober and angry by the time they let me go. No one would tell me where they took my sons. So I hunted for them. The rest…”

  “The rest becomes our beginning, Rio.” She kissed him quickly, smiling when he finally looked at her. “There’s no place for shame between us. Thank you for telling me. I honor your trust in me.”

  “As I do you, Sarah.” Relief washed away his fear of losing her. And if shame lingered, her smile lightened it.

  Hillsboro showed the ravages of the storm. The mud was hock deep on the horses, the wooden sidewalks with their swollen planks were covered with the debris of the floodwaters. Most of the storekeepers were out with brooms, sweeping the areas clean in front of their stores.

  Sarah called out answers to the questions fired at her over how she had fared. She thought about going to the bank first. Buck Purcell had seriously tried courting her after Catherine’s marriage, but then, he had been halfheartedly trying to marry one of the widows for years. Despite Sarah’s rejection, she knew he stood as a friend to her. Support for herself and Rio was all that she wanted.

  Mentioning it to Rio was a mistake. He shook his head and kept his horse to the center of the street, heading for the newly built jail.

  They dismounted and tied their horses to the rail.

  “Sarah, I wish you would allow me to do this alone.”

  “No. Together or not at all.”

  “And you compare my head to stone? Who is the stubborn one now?”

  She didn’t answer and busied herself knocking the mud from her boots.

  Sarah went inside the jail first. There was no sign of the sheriff. She had never been inside, not even when the town held the dedication for the new building. A potbellied stove stood in one corner. Centered in the front room stood a massive desk and chair behind it. One wall bore the gun rack, another was filled with Wanted posters. The room was neat and clean, not that she expected less from George Vaughan.

  She hurried to the door, calling out for the sheriff. The cells were empty.

  “Likely he’s in his workshop. George was a cabinetmaker before he tried his hand at mining. He’s a good man and a fair one. Wait for me and I’ll go get him.”

  “Sarah, do you remember the story of Ruth?”

  She frowned at Rio. “Yes but what has a Bible story to do with us?”

  “Where you go, I go. I will hear what you say, and speak to this fair, good man myself. I will not have you lie to protect me, Sarah.”

  “I had no idea I was thin as a piece of parchment to you.” She smiled to take the sting from her words but couldn’t help shaking her head over her man’s stubbornness. Her man…she liked the sound and feel of that, even if Rio wouldn’t allow her to stand before him. Men! Rio’s idea of honor was far different from hers. She had a strong sense of honor, but would protect what she claimed as hers no matter the cost.

  Directing Rio around the back of the jail, she knew it was a good thing she had come with him. He’d lay his own head in a noose for his precious honor. She had no intent on lying, but that didn’t mean that she would not use everything she could to make sure that Rio came away unbranded by those men’s deaths.

  Standing in the doorway, she glanced around at the workbenches lining the walls, furniture-making tools scattered over flat surfaces. The air was sharp and pungent with the smell of varnish.

  She watched as George used a pointed metal tool to carve out a design in the wood length that spun on the lathe. Thin curls of wood shavings fell to the floor as the man’s large hands directed the tool to yet another place.

  Sarah didn’t know where the sudden patience to wait for George to be finished had come from, but she was glad of it. When George was done, he greeted them with a smile.

  He was a large-boned man. A thick shock of brown hair curled over his head, a mustache every bit as thick, covered his upper lip. Bright brown eyes softened the craggy face as his puzzlement turned to recognition.

  “Miz Westfall, isn’t it?” he asked as he came toward them.

  “Sheriff.” She stepped aside so that he could see Rio and introduced them.

  George extended his hand. “I was hoping this wasn’t an official call, but since Miz Westfall mentioned my office—”

  “Yes, it is the sheriff we need to speak with.” Sarah ignored the glare from Rio’s eyes. She wasn’t going to waste time.

  In short order George had them in his office, his offer of coffee refused as Ri
o, without sparing himself, told the tale.

  Before Rio reached the end, Sarah’s store of patience disappeared. She made no apology as she interrupted.

  “Sheriff Vaughan, I killed those men. If you intend to arrest—”

  “Sarah, stop it. You had nothing—”

  “Now hold on, you two. Let him finish, Miz Westfall. Then I’ll hear you out.”

  “They were going to kill him and his son. I had no choice. They were animals. One of them attacked me. You know how the town would feel hearing that.”

  “I’m none too happy hearing about it myself, Miz Westfall. With the storm and the flooding there wasn’t much I could do as sheriff. There’s too much riffraff running loose as it is. Best thing to do is ride out with you and see for myself.”

  “Don’t you believe me?” Sarah demanded.

  Rio grabbed her arm. “Sarah, we agreed to tell him, now let him do his job. As a matter of fact, you stay in town and wait for us. You said you needed to buy supplies.”

  Sarah gaped at him. There was an audible click of her teeth when she closed her mouth. She didn’t want to be separated from Rio. It made no sense, for she knew George to be a fair-minded man. It was the reason the town council had chosen him. He had listened, really listened to Rio’s story. But she didn’t want to part from him.

  “Trust me, Sarah.”

  When he spoke to her in that soft, dark voice and looked at her with unspoken love in his eyes, she had to agree.

  “All right. I’ll meet you back here.”

  She watched them go, then roused herself. It wouldn’t hurt if the tale spread and spread quickly. She’d have Rio come out a hero by the time he returned.

  Nita Mullin, like most of the shop owners in town, was sweeping off the drying mud from the wooden walk in front of her store. She appeared as spry and ageless as the first time Sarah had seen her. Nita was a good friend, a practical woman whose sage advice had aided both Mary and Catherine. Sarah took a deep breath and released it as she looked into Nita’s kind eyes.

  “I need your help.”

  It took no more for Nita to set aside her broom and whisk Sarah into her dress shop, straight to the back where she had her private rooms.