by Jodi Thomas
Moaning as she dreamed, she nestled closer to his warmth. He smiled, knowing that soon he’d wake her again with this need he had for her. If she wanted a man to need her, she’d found someone, and he was near starvation. He also knew this passion wasn’t just because he wanted a woman, he wanted only Hannah.
Maybe he’d try to go slowly, as she suggested, tasting each part of her body, feeling her move beneath him, making her scream his name in passion. He thought of a hundred things he wanted to do, and all of them involved making love to her.
She was a wonder, this woman beside him. All his life he’d fought to keep the wildness at bay, and tonight it had been that very wild animal that she’d wanted. She hadn’t hated his loss of control, she’d loved it, even driven him to more.
He played with her breast, remembering the way she’d moaned when he’d tugged at her and kissed her in places he’d never dreamed a woman would want to be kissed. He felt a longing stirring deep inside and kissed her cheek.
When she didn’t move, he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth.
She wiggled, searching for more warmth, but not turning her mouth from his.
He kissed her again, feeling the hunger in himself growing.
“Wake up,” he whispered as he planted light kisses over her closed eyes. “It’s time to dance with the wind again, darlin’.”
She moaned and stretched, sliding her body against his in a manner that inflamed his desire.
“Wake up, darlin’.” His lips touched her ear. “I’m in great need of only you.”
“Ford,” she whispered as she pressed her breasts against his chest. “Will you love me again…even if it’s in my dreams. Please, love me again.”
He tasted her mouth lightly, wishing he had words to tell her how he felt. If hearts could explode with happiness, his was about to burst at any moment. Ford never dreamed being with a woman could be like this, all warm and comfortable and passionate.
“Hold me,” she moaned against his mouth in a voice blanketed in sleep as she lay back, offering her unclothed body to his view.
“All night, if you want,” he answered between light kisses.
She sighed and smiled as he stroked her with fingers already familiar with giving her pleasure. “Love me again,” she whispered.
He didn’t have time to reply, for his body and heart were already answering her request.
Chapter 20
FORD LOWERED THE tray of coffee down on the stand. The room was still in shadows, with only the fireplace and gray windows offering any light. He carefully circled the bed and sat down next to Hannah, leaning his back against the headboard and closing his eyes as he let out a long sigh. The night had been wild and wonderful, but now he wasn’t sure he had the energy left to hold his coffee mug.
Remembering, he gently brushed a curl from Hannah’s sleeping face and leaned to kiss her mouth. She tasted so good he’d decided sometime during the night that he’d never get his fill.
“Wake up, darlin’,” Ford whispered against her bottom lip as he trailed kisses down her chin.
She moved in her sleep, letting the cover fall dangerously low over her shoulder. “Is it dawn yet?” she mumbled, rolling over and shoving her backside against his leg. “I don’t have to get up until almost dawn.”
Ford laughed. “It’s noon. The rain just makes the room stay dark.”
“Noon!” Hannah sat up suddenly, completely forgetting she was nude. “I’ve missed school. The children will be worried.”
Ford didn’t look the least upset, in fact he smiled as he took in the view. “Don’t panic. I told Roy to ride in and ask Gavrila to take your place for the day. My sister’s been trying to get back in that school since the day you arrived.”
Hannah rubbed her eyes and scooted closer to the coffee. “How could I have slept until noon? I never did that even when I had to work until after midnight.”
She blushed suddenly and reached for the sheet to cover herself. “It’s your fault.” Her bottom lip came out like that of a child’s. “You woke me up twice last night.”
Ford smiled. “I seem to remember you waking me once, also, sometime before dawn.”
Hannah laughed as she let the covers fall away in an effort to reach the extra coffee mug.
Her immodesty had the effect she’d hoped for. Ford’s breathing suddenly stopped and his grip tightened on his cup. He didn’t move as she wiggled back to him with her coffee in hand.
She drank long, then stretched again, reaching to set the mug back in place.
He almost spilled the coffee as he slammed the cup down on the stand nearest him and moved toward her.
Jumping out of his grasp, Hannah laughed. “Oh, no, you don’t! I haven’t even finished my coffee. Plus, people don’t do the kind of thing you’re thinking about doing until long past sundown.”
Ford moved slowly toward her. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Maybe I don’t.” She shrugged, allowing the cover to fall completely away from one breast.
His sharp intake of breath made her giggle.
“Then again, maybe I do.”
He sprang then. Before she could protest, he’d pulled her beneath the covers and kissed her wildly. His hands moved across her as if starved for the feel of her. She squealed and wiggled and protested while she giggled, but he had just one goal—to hear her cry his name again while lost in desire.
Their loving was the way it had been the first time, without barriers, with a haste that comes only with swimming in deep waters of passion.
When they’d finished, Ford’s clothes were scattered across the floor and Hannah was curled atop him, too exhausted to move even if she’d wanted to.
He lifted a handful of her hair and took in its fragrance as if he were committing her scent forever to memory. “When your heart slows, darlin’, I plan to carry you out into the dressing area and bathe you. I’d even like to brush a few tangles out of this hair. Then I’ll wrap a towel around you and we’ll eat something before retiring for the evening. There’ll be no need for you to bother getting dressed today if you don’t wish to.”
“But what will people think?”
“They’ll think you’ve taken to your bed.” He laughed. “Which is exactly right.”
Hannah raised up on one elbow. “I never thought it would be like this. Not half so wonderful.”
“Me either,” Ford answered honestly as he gently lifted her elbow off the dent she was making in his chest. “I guess I never thought a woman would take to me the way you seem to have.”
“You make me feel beautiful,” she whispered as she moved up slightly so her lips could reach his. “Beautiful and wanted. I love the way you never have enough. You come after loving as if you’ve been starved. I guess we both do.”
“You are beautiful,” he answered, “and wanted. I seem to frighten most folks, but I don’t ever want to frighten you.” He kissed her gently then, as if proving how much she was cherished.
She’d expected him to make love to her again, but he was true to his word. He lifted her and carried her to the tub.
He must have started the fire when he was up making coffee, for the little room was warm and the water already hot. While she tied her hair atop her head, he poured warm water over her as she stood in the tub.
Hannah didn’t sit down, but allowed him full view of her as he soaped her body and washed each part. His hands, covered with soap, slid easily over her curves as she turned slowly around.
When he finished, he wrapped her in a towel he’d put across the back of a chair by the stove. The material was warm against her skin and Hannah sighed as he covered her with not only the towel, but his arms.
“There’s something I need to say,” he whispered against her ear. “But I don’t know the words. I wish I knew how to tell you half of what is churning inside of me.”
Hannah leaned against him and answered, “I know how you feel. I want to love you again fast because we have so lit
tle time, and I need to love you slow so I can remember everything. Last night was the most wonderful of my life, and I wish our time together would never end.”
His arms tightened around her. “Wish it would never end,” he repeated against her hair.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him slowly and tenderly, realizing her heart belonged to this man and would for the rest of her life. Every beat would remind her of the time they’d had together…of the feelings he pulled so strongly to the surface.
The rain still pattered against the windows, but Hannah hardly noticed as she lay wrapped in Ford’s arms while he slept. It had to be close to three in the afternoon. She’d slipped into one of his shirts after her bath and planned on wearing it to cook supper, but he’d talked her into cuddling beside him until he fell asleep and now she didn’t want to leave.
Even in his sleep, Ford caressed her. Each time she moved he’d pull the covers closer, or slide his hand along her leg, or cup her breast gently before settling back into his slow breathing.
She looked at him closely. To be honest, he was not what most would call handsome. But at this moment he looked perfect. For Hannah he was the finest-looking man who’d ever walked on this earth.
She lay her cheek against his shoulder and closed her eyes, knowing that she’d need rest if the night to come was to be a repeat of the last one—which she hoped it would be.
Wind whirled outside and rain tapped against the window as Hannah drifted from a perfect day into sleep.
An hour later horses’ hooves thundered, blending with the rain for a moment, not pulling Hannah from dreams. But when she felt Ford’s body stiffen beside her, she knew something was wrong.
He climbed from the bed in one fluid movement and pulled on his jeans. “Get dressed, darlin’. Several riders are coming fast, and I’m thinking it’s trouble driving them through this rain.”
By the time she slipped from the bed and lifted her dress, he was already out the door, buttoning his shirt as he moved. She hurried, feeling his worry as the horses drew closer.
Hannah pulled on her stockings as a pounding sounded at their front door. She grabbed her shoes and ran to see what was happening.
As she stepped from the bedroom, men in wet-blackened dusters poured through the front door. Fear ran through her veins, blending with the memories of the morning Jude had been killed. Their dusters might not be like the new yellow ones the killers wore, but she could smell blood in the air now as she had then. These men had the same hurried look about them that Harwell’s men had, only Ford was holding the door for them to come in, and none carried guns in their hands.
“Take him over by the fire!” Ford shouted.
“He’s hurt bad,” Roy, Ford’s hand, yelled above the racket. “We wanted to take him to Doc’s place, but he insisted on being brought back here to Hannah. I had to ride double with him because he’s in no shape to even set a saddle.”
Hannah shoved her way through the crowd as Roy continued. “Most of the men in town rode north after the gang that took Miss Gavrila, but a few of us wanted to come get you.”
“Gavrila?” Hannah heard Ford ask in a voice that was much calmer than hers would have been. “Someone’s abducted my sister?” His last words were filled with disbelief. Kidnapping Gavrila would make about as much sense as stealing dirt.
Hannah tried to push past the last man between her and the person lying on the floor, but the short fellow stopped her. She looked angrily into the face of Alamo Rogers.
“Don’t look, Miss Hannah.” He shook his head. “He’s hurt bad and bleeding in several places. It’s not something a lady should see.”
She pushed again. She could fight her way around the little man if she had to, but he’d been kind to her and she didn’t want to hurt him.
“Let her pass,” Ford’s voice sounded from just behind Alamo, where he was kneeling. “My wife is no weak flower and I’ll not have her treated so, even in the name of protecting her.”
Alamo opened his grip on her arms and stepped to the side. His whole body seemed to silently apologize for what she was about to see.
She moved around him and knelt beside Ford. A scream caught in her throat as she saw the bloodied face of Zachery sticking out from beneath a muddy coat.
“Zachery!” Hannah held his face in her hands and turned him toward the light. She didn’t notice the blood dripping through her fingers, or her own tears as she glanced over each cut and bruise. All she saw was the fear shining in his eyes. “What happened to you?” The last she’d seen him, he’d said he would be playing checkers with Jinx and might not be home.
Zachery blinked. “I had to get to you, girl. I had to warn you,” he whispered. “Harwell’s men found me. There’s no telling how long they hung around outside the post office waiting for me to come out. They beat me, thinking I’d tell them where you were, but I never told.” He closed his eyes as new pain seemed to course through him. “I never told, Hannah. They said the sheriff had a letter from here inquiring about a woman and man who met our descriptions. Whoever wrote the letter even had my name right, but I still wouldn’t tell them anything.”
“What’s he saying?” Ford asked as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I couldn’t hear all of it. Someone wrote a letter?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” she lied. “Who would write a letter asking about me?”
Hannah’s gaze met Ford’s and in an instant they both whispered the same word, “Gavrila.” Organized, planning Gavrila.
“Because I wouldn’t talk,” Ford said, taking all the guilt, “she must have decided to write. I remember her even asking someone at the dance if they knew a Fort Worth lawman’s name. The sheriff would be a logical person to know a few facts. She’s always been like that, having to know every detail.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hannah whispered. “They’d have found us eventually anyway. The men who did this never stop until they find who they are looking for. It was just a matter of time.”
“But I didn’t tell them where you were,” Zachery mumbled. “I let them keep hitting me, and I wouldn’t say a word.”
Hannah squeezed the old man’s hand as she looked at Ford. “Help me get him to bed and I’ll doctor these wounds.” She didn’t want to see the question in her husband’s eyes so she quickly moved her attention to Zachery. “Don’t worry, Uncle, I’ll patch you up just fine.”
Zachery’s eyes didn’t open, but his grip on her fingers was strong.
Several men stepped forward to help. “We’ll get him stripped and washed up, ma’am, while you collect the bandages,” Roy offered with the respect any hand would pay the boss’s wife.
“All right.” She glanced at Ford, but he was already directing men to ready his horse and make enough coffee to fill everyone’s cup.
Hannah ran to the kitchen and collected all the things she might need to doctor. The only thought on her mind was that Harwell’s men had found them. She had given them the slip in Dallas. Gavrila’s letter must have seemed like a great stroke of luck for the killers. She’d only guessed before that the sheriff might be involved, but if he turned over a letter, he must be mixed up with the killings.
Hannah gripped the medicine box until her fingers whitened. Though they might have only beat up Zachery, they would kill her. There was no doubt in her mind she’d be dead, and anyone else as well who tried to stand in their way. If they’d killed Jude so quickly, they wouldn’t hesitate to slit her throat.
Ford crossed the kitchen, buckling his gun belt as he moved. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but you should be safe enough here. I left the Winchester and a box of rounds in our bedroom. I wish I could stay, but I’ve got to help look for Gavrila. She’s my sister and I’m one of only a few men who know this country well enough to travel at night in the rain without getting lost.”
“The men who beat Zachery really kidnapped her?” The idea sounded too far-fetched to even be repeated. “Are you sure?”
Ford stopped and looked directly into her eyes, as though hating to tell her, but knowing it had to be done. “After the men beat up Zachery out back of the post office, they were seen talking to one of the Burns boys, who skipped school today. The boy thought you were at the schoolhouse and pointed them in the right direction when they asked about anyone new in town.”
Ford leaned down and strapped on his spurs. “When they asked Gavrila if she was the new teacher, she told them yes. The children said the men threw a blanket over her head before she could get a good scream out and rode off with her doubled over a saddle like a sack of cornmeal.”
“Poor Gavrila!” Hannah cried. “If she’d only told Harwell’s men the truth, they’d have let her go.”
“Because they were looking for you, right?” Ford finished her sentence.
Hannah closed her eyes and nodded. “If Gavrila wrote a letter, she told them where to find me.”
“And they beat Zachery trying to get to you, didn’t they, Hannah?”
She nodded again, knowing that she’d have to tell Ford the whole story. He’d probably think her a coward for running, but it had seemed her only way to survive.
Ford pulled her roughly against him. “Well, they can’t have you. I don’t care what’s happened in the past. I don’t care what you’ve done. I don’t care if you rob half the people in Saints Roost blind. I’m not letting you go, darlin’, and that is final.”
“But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t steal…” She returned his hug, wondering what he was talking about. How could he think that Harwell’s men were chasing her because of something she’d done? How could he hint that she’d taken anything from the people in town? He wasn’t waiting for her to explain, he was telling her it didn’t matter. Then the realization shook her…it did matter. She thought back to the night of the party and his sudden mood change. The way he acted after he knew she’d been in White’s place the day someone was thought to have stolen. “But I never…”
