The Bond Unbroken

by Bond unbroken (NCP) (lit)

  Mitch didn't like the direction she was heading. Did he know Ben Thompson personally? Yes, he knew him. Ben was one of the closest friends he had. He would trust Ben with his life. Would he trust Ben with his Kat? No way in hell.

  "Where is this leading, Kat?" he asked, unwilling to supply answers until he had some of his own.

  She sensed Mitch's reluctance to talk about the Ben Thompson of this time period, but she had to know something about the person she would without a doubt have to deal with. Dear God, if her presence here were somehow responsible for the death of Ben Thompson the gunfighter, would she also be responsible for the death of the uncle she loved with all her heart?

  "Mitch, this is important, so I'll be completely honest with you." Katlin didn't share her feelings with anyone, except of course, her Uncle Ben. If what she did here could have a negative affect on the one person who loved her unconditionally, she was willing to take the risk of dropping her self protective shield. "There are very few people that I'm close to. Oh, I have a lot of casual friends, but there has only been one person in my life who has always been there for me. One person who has never let me down. And that person is my Uncle Ben. Ben Thompson, the great great grandson of the Ben Thompson who now runs the Bull's Head Saloon in Abilene."

  That got a reaction from Mitch. He muttered a profanity under his breath then raked his fingers through his hair with one hand and reached for his cigarette makings with the other. Katlin didn't know if this was a good sign or a bad one.

  "You're remembering the example I gave you about how my presence here can effect the future, aren't you?" she asked. She remained silent as he rolled his cigarette. When he was finished, she pulled the lighter from her pocket and demonstrated how it worked. "Each time you light it, you have to flip this little lever, then you turn the wheel with your thumb and hold down the button at the same time." It took him a couple of tries before he got the hang of it.

  "Keep it," she told him. "I have a whole pack of them in my supplies."

  Katlin had been right. He had been remembering the example she had given him. As he figured it, a mighty confusing situation had just gotten even more complicated. Ben was his friend. They had no choice but to tell him the whole story. Ben's life might depend on it. If Katlin's theory is right, possibly her uncle's life as well. He still didn't like it. He didn't like the idea of bringing Ben Thompson into it one bit. He lit his smoke and took several calming puffs.

  He couldn't imagine how the gunfighter would react to the tall tale. Actually, he could imagine his friend's response. He would laugh his fool head off. Mitch believed it, but he had a powerful lot of convincing. How in the name of God would they be able to convince a man who was even more cynical and distrusting than he was?

  "If you're expecting a kindly old uncle type, then get the thought out of that pretty little head of yours right now," Mitch instructed with more harshness than he had intended. "The Ben Thompson I know is about my own age and is about as ruthless as any gunfighter I've ever met. He's a man who can face down a man in the street, shoot and kill the man without ever blinking an eye, then walk calmly across the street and seduce an innocent virgin into his bed and make her believe he was doing her a favor. Does that answer your question?"

  Abilene, Kansas, said to be the wildest, wickedest, cowtown in the Wild West, complete with Wild Bill Hickok as the town marshal. Katlin could hardly believe the implications. She was actually going to meet Wild Bill Hickok.

  "That pretty much sums up the description my uncle gave me, except, he left out the seducing part." Katlin didn't know why she did it. Maybe there was some perverse streak in her nature that wanted to see if she could make him jealous. "So, my great great uncle is a good looking charmer, is he?"

  His eyes narrowed, and his jaw set in disapproval. "The man is your uncle. Don't forget that."

  "Great, great uncle. And only because his great great grandson married my mother's sister."

  "Be warned, Kat, you had best control that wayward tongue of yours, or you're likely to provoke someone into showing you how to make better use of it."

  "Oh," she asked with wide eyed innocence. Katlin knew she was playing with fire, and, for the first time in her life, she didn't care. "And I suppose you think you are that person?"

  Before Katlin knew what was happening, she found herself on her back on the sleeping bag beneath him, her braid wrapped securely around his hand. The passionate fire burning in the depths of Mitch's blue eyes held her spellbound. She knew she had goaded him into this, but she wasn't prepared for the sensations his body covering hers was creating within her.

  Her body was responding as if it remembered the feel of his weight, her nipples hardened, and there was a responding tugging sensation in her womb. It was as if her lips remembered the taste and texture of his lips upon them and longed for the feel of his tongue slipping between to war with her own. Katlin knew if she didn't call a halt now, she would fall into the reality of an erotic sexual fantasy where she would recognize every touch, every caress, every sensation. She knew how her breasts would swell with passion in his hands as his tongue teased her nipples to painful hardness. She was still a virgin, yet her womb spasmed, almost in memory of his hardness sheathed deeply inside her.

  Her body's driving desire for this man shocked her. Her body knew him. Her body remembered. And his voice, that voice, she knew exactly how he would sound as he murmured husky love words in her ear in the throes of passion. Katlin started to panic. Dear God, what was going on here?

  She opened her mouth to protest, and it was what Mitch had been waiting for. His head swooped down, and his lips covered her parted lips in a kiss that started out punishing, an attempt to teach her what could happen if she goaded a man too far. Then something happened to him, something far beyond his ability to control. His lips gentled, teased, and deliberately aroused, using every trick he knew to draw out the passion he knew she was capable of giving him. He had to make her need him as much as he need her, or the unfulfilled longing inside him would tear him apart.

  In some part of his passion fogged brain, Mitch heard her utter a frightened little whimper even as she succumbed to the overpowering force of his desire for her. Almost against her will, her arms went around him, and she returned his kiss with a fervor equal to his own. Her lips closed around his tongue as it slid between them, and she began to suckle as he would soon be doing at her breast. She arched up against his raging denim covered erection, and Mitch was terrified he would explode before he could get his pants off and bury himself deep inside her where he belonged, where he had always belonged. That thought and the memory of her frightened little whimper ripped into his heart and all the way to his very soul, affecting him like a bucket of ice water poured over his head.

  Mitch stiffened, rolled off Katlin, and bounded to his feet. He turned his back to her, closed his eyes, and began deep shuddering breaths in an effort to regain control of his senses. He was furiously angry and ashamed. Never had he lost control with a woman. He was also frightened by the power of the uncontrollable passion that had held him in a vice like grip.

  Katlin jack-knifed into a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her legs pulling her knees tightly against her chest as she stared helplessly at Mitch's rigid back. What she really wanted to do was curl up in a fetal position and cry. In that last instant before she gave in to the passion that had overpowered them both, she knew what was happening to them, and she had wanted him just as desperately as he had wanted her. If Mitch hadn't stopped himself, she knew she would have allowed their lovemaking to continue to its inevitable conclusion.

  "Mitch," she began hesitantly.

  "Don't say it, Kat. Don't say anything," he warned with a tight, cold tone of voice. "Get some sleep. We'll be riding out at first light," were his parting words to her before he grabbed his whiskey bottle and stalked off into the darkness.

  Before this was all over, Katlin knew they would make love, they wouldn't be able to help themselve
s. She also new she had found the other part of her own soul, and, when she returned to the future she would feel more emptiness than she had ever felt in her life. How would she be able to bare the loneliness that awaited her? Yet, Katlin knew she would handle it, just like she always had. It was inevitable. While she was here, she intended to make the most of each day they had together, storing away each memory and each experience, enough to last her a lifetime. Because she knew something Mitch didn't know.

  Katlin had always considered her belief system to be unshakable, but she had never

  expected to be confronted with the reality of reincarnation. She had always believed deep emotions and traumatic experiences brought souls back together, lifetime after lifetime. Love as well as hate, jealousy, greed, and just plain lust were all strong emotions that came into play. It explained why people had strong, immediate reactions to people they had just met. She had experienced it herself, many times. She had learned to trust those deep level gut instincts, and they had never failed her. Family members and close friends were often reunited, as were souls that had karmic debts left unsettled between them.

  If you were lucky enough to find a deep, soul level love, that was a whole different

  connection, one that even separation by death or a lifetime couldn't sever. She had loved Mitch before, to the very depths of her soul, and she had been loved by him in return. She didn't know where or when, but their souls had remembered, had connected again in this lifetime. There was no doubt in Katlin's mind that she had been sent into this time period to find Mitch. She also believed there was something else that had drawn her here.

  What she didn't understand was why Sing hadn't warned her about her connection to Mitch. He should have prepared her for what would happen once they met. For that matter, where had Bart been when the great seduction scene was taking place?

  Looking up to find her dog, she was surprised to see that he was laying quietly beside her, his head resting on his front paws, and he was looking up at her with sad, dark eyes.

  "You recognized him too, didn't you boy?" she said and reached over to scratch him behind his ear. Yes, she also believed animals had a soul. She believed even animals remembered love, gentleness, and care given as well as cruelty, abuse, and neglect. That being the case, an animal's soul would also return to connect with someone who had shown them love, as well as to confront someone who had mistreated them.

  Feeling as bone weary as she had ever felt in her life, Katlin got to her feet, rearranged her sleeping bag and pillow, then removed her blouse and shoulder holster. These she placed within easy reach should she need them in a hurry. She pulled off her boots before she unzipped the sleeping bag, crawled inside, and zipped it around her. It was a warm night, but she needed the feeling of cocooned security, almost like when she was a little girl pulling the blankets up over her head when she felt alone and frightened.

  Bart belly crawled closer to Katlin until his head rested upon her stomach.

  Katlin was asleep when Mitch returned to camp, and he couldn't resist looking down at her all curled up in that new fangled bedroll of hers. Reflected in the glow of the dying fire, there was such a serene beauty on her face it took his breath away. The hell hound was laying beside her, wide awake, alert, and watching Mitch's every move. In truth, the term hell hound no longer applied. Mitch had already recognized that Black Bart was the most remarkable dog he had ever seen, and damned if he hadn't already developed a fondness for the critter. He could even imagine those big dark eyes were scolding him for his lustful behavior with Katlin. As if he didn't already feel guilty enough.

  Moving as quietly as possible, Mitch retrieved his bedroll and laid it out on the other side of the pine trees, between Katlin and the horses in the clearing. The way he figured it, she was safer with Black Bart than she was with him. He removed his holster and laid it safely within reach. Keeping his boots on, Mitch stretched out on his bedroll and looked up at the stars filling the night sky, attempting to make sense of all that had happened today.

  After he left the camp, he had walked until he was sure he was out of her range of vision before he removed all his clothes and walked into the pond, hoping the cold water would cool down his ardor and his fevered brain. It hadn't worked. The heat of the June, Kansas sun had warmed the water, making it feel warmer than the cool night breezes. Wishing he'd had the presence of mind to grab his soap along with the whiskey bottle, he had remained in the water long enough to vigorously rub down his body, removing as much trail dust from his skin and hair as possible. It wasn't until he stood with the cool air blowing against his wet, naked flesh that he felt himself begin to cool down, and he began to regain a small amount of the emotional control he was well known to possess in abundance.

  From the instant he had looked into the depths of Kat's incredible green eyes, his infamous self control had been shot to hell. While the night air chilled his flesh, he used the remaining whiskey to warm him inside. He'd deliberately given Katlin time to fall asleep before he returned to camp.

  Now, as he lay looking up at the moon and the stars, he found his mind wandering back to the time he had spent among the Comanches. He had just turned sixteen and having had a belly full of his fathers cold domination he had decided he would be better off on his own. He had been hunting for his evening meal the day he had met up with the young Comanche brave who was to become his friend, along with the rattler that had struck before he had realized it was there. With the help of Two Feathers and the tribe medicine man, he had survived the snake bite and had also found the closest thing to family life he had ever experienced. Mitch had learned much from those brave, spiritual people.

  It was at times like this when nothing made sense that his thoughts returned to the wise old medicine man who had saved his life, to his tall tales and his words of wisdom. The old man had once told him that the injustice and the mysteries of life were often beyond the ability of man to understand. That true wisdom came from the knowledge that the Great Spirit didn't expect us to know all, to understand all. HE would show his children the path to understanding when the time was right.

  To the young rebel he had been at the time, the statement had not set well. Mitchell Cameron was determined to control his own destiny and to control his own life. Thanks to the lessons he had learned at receiving end of his father's strap, he had grown up determined that nothing and no one would ever manipulate or control him again.

  He had suffered through his father's hell fire and brimstone mentality. He had learned the Comanche's beliefs even though he wasn't sure he was able to accept them himself. Now, there was Kat, a feisty female from the future, talking about God and The Powers That Be. Mitch didn't know what to believe anymore. Considering the life he lived, he had always found it easier to believe you lived, then you died, and that was it.

  Despite all these years of strong willed detachment, he was now caught up in a situation totally beyond his control or understanding. Well, he might not be able to control the events, but he would damn well control his reaction to them.

  Katlin hadn't been asleep when Mitch returned to camp. Understanding they both needed some thinking space, she had focused on keeping her breathing steady and even. She was proud of her control even while she felt his eyes on her while he had stood looking down at her. She had been acutely aware of his every movement until he moved his bedroll some distance away from her and settled down for the night.

  Reasonably sure that he had probably finished off the whiskey remaining in the bottle, Katlin laid silently looking up at the stars until she was certain he had plenty of time to fall asleep. Almost silently, she rose from her sleeping bag, retrieved her rose scented soap and shampoo, a towel, comfortable gray sweats and clean underwear, then walked to the water's edge where she removed her clothes. Katlin attached the cord on the waterproof bag containing her soap and shampoo to her wrist. Stepping beyond the invisible barrier, she dove into the water barely making a sound or a ripple upon the mirror-like surfac
e of the pond.

  Surfacing several yards from the bank, Katlin tread water as she glanced back toward the camp. She could see nothing. Not even the fire was visible. The night was clear, the only illumination was coming from the stunning full moon above her. Finding her footing, the water barely reached her waist as she stood and allowed the ripples in the water to settle. Reflected in the water's surface were the moon and stars above her. Totally oblivious to the possibility that Mitch might wake up and discover her skinny dipping, Katlin found herself reveling in the awesome sensation that she was bathing in the heavens.

  But Mitch did see her. He had never been asleep. From his bedroll, he had turned on his side and watched as she removed articles from her supplies. Watched as she walked to the water's edge and removed her clothing. And he had watched, when like a pagan goddess of old, she had dived silently into the water.

  Mitch rose to his feet and walked to the point where he was just inside the barrier. From this position, he knew he could see her but she couldn't see him. Before him was the most breathtaking sight he had ever witnessed, literally breathtaking. Mitch realized he had been holding his breath. He forced a great stuttering breath into his constricted lungs, his heart began pounding erratically in his chest. Even as his responsiveness to the sight began tugging at his groin, the sensation of recognition began tugging at his memory.

  He remembered. The dream. His first so called wet dream as an adolescent. A dream that had haunted him off and on throughout the years. She was the dream woman the old Comanche medicine man predicted would come to him from far, far away and in doing so would change his life forever. One hundred and thirty-one years? Mitch suspected that would qualify as far away. That she would change his life forever, he very much feared it was already a done deal.

  She had been standing in all her irresistible, naked glory several yards from the secluded beach, bathed in moonlight. She had stood there in water to her waist watching as he approached, watching as he removed his clothing. Her arms reached out to him, and he went to her. They had made wild, passionate love in the water and again after he carried her from the water and laid her upon the blanket she had placed on the sandy beach.