Bride Of Shadow Canyon

by Stacey Kayne

  "Yes. He'd made propositions and the way his eyes moved over me made my skin crawl."

  Jed watched her shudder at the memory. "And you didn't see that as a sign of danger?"

  "No," she answered, meeting his gaze. "I felt the same response toward any man who looked at me with lust in his eyes."

  Jed arched an eyebrow, thinking he'd looked at her with lust- filled eyes plenty of times. Hell, most of the time. "Honey, I am a man," he felt inclined to point out.

  A smile played across her lips. "Yes, you're a man."

  Her sultry tone had a discomforting effect on the fit of his britches.

  "An exceptional man. You don't prey on the weak, using their weaknesses to your advantage."

  "The way Sumner did."

  "I'm ashamed to have been employed by him, but good paying jobs aren't exactly easy to come by. We needed the money."

  "You mentioned a painting."

  Again, Rachell visibly shuddered.

  "He scared you," Jed said, watching fear darken her eyes.

  "Hell, yes, he scared me!" she shouted, wrapping her arms around her raised knees. "It was ...spooky. You can't imagine my shock when I saw the life-size portrait on his office wall. The woman did look a bit like me, but I really believe he thought I was her. He had Titus murdered, then told me I was his love and that he'd not allow me to get away from him again. He locked me in one of the upstairs bedrooms of the saloon and said he'd give me some time to prepare myself for him."

  Jed's body coiled with a murderous rage at the thought of any man forcing his attentions on her tender body.

  "So I ran," she said. "Unlike my situation in Colorado, I

  didn't have to wear the bed linen. I was able to use it to climb down from the window. I retrieved a few possessions from my room and took a horse from the stables. With my money and Titus's combined, I had enough for a train ticket clear to California. I had the station send a wire to Elizabeth, telling her I was on my way and I boarded the train. I didn't think he'd send men after me. I never gave him my real name. I don't know how they found me."

  She truly didn't see how any man could be obsessed with her, but Jed sure as hell did.

  "I didn't realize I was putting my sister in danger. Had I known Titus-" Her voice cracked as tears spilled from her eyes. "I didn't know," she said in a hushed voice.

  "I believe you," Jed said, wanting to ease the fear and strain he saw in her gaze. He stood and walked around the low fire. Her wide eyes followed him even as he moved behind her and sat down. He leaned forward and brushed a quick, light kiss across her lips. "Don't fret, sugar. Sumner won't get anywhere near you."

  She smiled at his reassurance. "How's your side?" she asked, glancing at his shirt.

  "You don't need to worry about my side. My hide's a lot like leather, a few scuffs and scars only add character."

  "Even leather needs proper care if you want it to stay in prime condition."

  Jed resisted the urge to comment on just how prime he'd felt since making her acquaintance. Keeping his distance from her had been pure hell. After a week of restricting himself from even the slightest touch, he was experiencing some mighty painful withdrawals. His whole body ached to be near hers. With all their days on the trail, he kept expecting her to look trail-beaten and haggard, but with each passing day, despite the dust and sweat, she became more beautiful.

  He placed his palms on the sides of her head and turned her pretty face away from him. His hands closed over her shoulders, his thumbs pressing against the tense muscles above her shoulder blades.

  Rachell moaned, tilting her head from side to side.

  He felt a soothing sense of pleasure at just being able to touch her. Perhaps cutting himself off from her touch completely wasn't the way to go. If he just rationed himself with little bits of her, maybe he wouldn't feel as though he were starving for her every second of every blasted day.

  Testing this new method, he lowered his head, lightly grazed her neck with his teeth then quickly retreated. Her taste shot through his senses like hot sensual lightning as his fingers caressed her neck and shoulders.

  Yes, sir, he felt better already.

  "Jed?" Rachell said in a shivered breath.

  "I just want to help you relax. Do you mind?" he asked, unable to see her expression.

  "Mind? I love having your hands on me." She groaned softly. "You have the most magical hands. I'm going to dissolve at your fingertips."

  Jed was close to about all the touching he could handle. Luckily, Rachell was already half asleep. He allowed her to lean back against him. "Feel better?" he whispered against her ear.

  "Uh-huh," she murmured.

  Me too, he said in the silence of his mind.

  "Why would the military want to put you in a stockade?" she asked a moment later.

  Jed released a sigh, thinking he should have seen that question coming. She wasn't one to let her curiosity go unanswered. "Honey, there aren't enough hours in the night to rehash my past with an anti-Indian military."

  She shifted in his arms to meet his gaze. "You've been in their stockades before?"

  "On occasion. They put plenty of effort into getting me there, but could never quite keep me."

  Her gaze clouded with worry. "Why?" "I lived with an Indian, looked like an Indian and when I wouldn't do what the military asked of me, I was hunted down like an Indian."

  "What did they ask of you?"

  "To lie. Shuhquoy and I traveled quite a bit and were on good terms with a few tribes, people I considered my friends. When we believed the military had honorable intentions, we were happy to help where we could. But when I wouldn't betray my friends, I was labeled a traitor and found my face on a bunch of fancy posters."

  "And they caught you?"

  "A few times," he said. 'Though none quite as memorable so the first."

  She nestled closer and Jed shifted her legs over his thigh as her head rested against his shoulder. "Why the first?"

  "A man tends to remember when someone steals a large chunk of his hide."

  Her eyelids that had been drifting steadily down sprang back up. "The scars on your back?"

  "Yep."

  Her face creased with anger. "That's awful! You'd done nothing wrong!"

  Jed smiled. "Oh, I did plenty wrong. I was young, cocky as hell and bent on making my beliefs known."

  Her gaze roved his face. "How old were you?"

  "The first time? Seventeen. They never got me back to their whipping post, but we've had plenty of tangles over the years."

  She reached up and stroked the black hair touching his shoulders. "You weren't the one who cut your hair, were you?"

  Shock rippled through him, her swift perception catching him off guard. "I don't see how that matters," he said, wanting to brush off the emotion stirred deep inside him by the concern darkening her eyes.

  "Did you cut it?" she persisted.

  "No. I didn't."

  Her frown deepened as she snuggled against him. Her eyelids drifted down. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  She was sound asleep in his arms within minutes. Jed dragged in a shuddering breath and slowly released it. This woman made him feel...too much. He pressed his hps to her hair. "Me too, Imp." His whole life he'd been fighting battles in a war he couldn't win.

  He eased back onto her bedroll and stretched out beside her. Rachell shifted, nuzzling her face to his chest as her arm slid across his waist. She settled against him as though she had been made to sleep in his arms.

  Jed tossed the blanket over them, content to hold her close without ravishing her supple body. Small rations was definitely the way to go. By the time they reached Nevada, he'd have her completely out of his system.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As Rachell rode through the thick forest of pines, she tugged firmly at the sides of her long fur coat, clamping out the cold morning air. Moisture beaded on the thick fuzzy cuff of her hood. She'd been stunned when Jed pulled the beautiful white coat out of th
eir supplies a couple of days back when the terrain and climate had drastically changed, as had the scenery.

  The Sierra Nevadas were thick with fresh wild spring flowers. Yesterday, as the afternoon sun had warmed them, they had ridden through lush meadows splashed by every color of the rainbow. It had been impossible for her eyes to absorb so much beauty at once.

  But the mornings were cold and wet. She missed the dry Utah climate. Today they had risen during the early darkness just before dawn. Jed was determined to reach Shadow Canyon by midmorning. Even now, with the sun well into the sky, a veil of mist hung in the cold morning air.

  A plume of white smoke came into view as she continued to ascend the hillside. The mercantile Jed had been telling her about was supposed to be just over the next rise.

  Reaching the top of the hill, Rachell reined Storm Cloud to a halt. She wasn't at all pleased by what she saw in the hazy distance. Tucked between a cluster of pines was what looked to

  be a run-down shack, pieced together with chunks of rotted wood.

  "That is not a mercantile." Rachell shifted her gaze, scanning the wide span of pine-covered hills. There wasn't a trace of another dwelling for as far as her eyes could see. Giant ranges of granite rock rose up from the tops of tall green pines and patches of fog.

  "It may not look like much," Jed said as he rode past her, "but everything under the sun, from every corner of this earth has been bartered, bought or sold inside that shack."

  He's teasing me again. She doubted a body swapped much beyond lice and fleas in such a ramshackle cabin.

  "Stay close to me, sugar," Jed said, dismounting a few yards from the so-called mercantile. "The locals around these parts aren't known for being real hospitable."

  "I hadn't thought of doing otherwise," she said, stepping beside him. "And stop calling me sugar," she snapped, annoyed by the sensations he so easily evoked in her whenever he offhandedly called her by an endearment or surprised her with a brief caress, which had been far too frequent in the past few days. Jed's silent detachment had been annoying, but his behavior since she'd fallen asleep in his arms was driving her mad.

  He continually caught her off guard with intimate gestures and light caresses. Yesterday, she had turned when she felt him rein in close beside her and was given a quick kiss on the mouth, so fast, she had to wonder if he'd kissed her at all. This morning she'd been sitting by the fire, brushing some of the dirt and dust from her hair when Jed had sat down behind her, taken the brush and diligently performed the chore, securing her hair in one thick braid which trailed down her back.

  She hadn't protested, fully receptive to all the closeness he would allow. She wanted more. Knowing he wouldn't let her have it had become damn irritating. When he had finished her braid, he jumped up, jerked her to her feet then smacked a hand on her backside as he told her to mount up.

  "My name is Rachell," she curtly reminded him as she pushed back her warm hood.

  Jed wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they ascended the uneven steps. "I know," he whispered against her ear. "But you taste like sugar."

  His teeth lightly grazed the shell of her ear, sending a distracting jolt of sensations throughout her body. Her foot missed the top step. Jed's arm around her was all that kept her from falling face-first onto the porch.

  "Watch your step, Imp," he advised.

  She lifted her gaze from Jed's black leather boots, past his buttoned-up range coat and the black stubble surrounding his smiling lips, to the laughing silver eyes beneath his dark hat.

  Her irritation fizzled into a spark of raw desire. Dear Lord, he was handsome. "I think I need protection from you, Jed Doulan."

  "You and me both," he quipped just before he eased open the door of the shack. "Hey, Gran, you decent?" he boomed.

  "Jed?" a raspy voice called out from inside. "Where the hell you been hidin' for so long?"

  Jed swung the door wide. Warm air rushed out to greet them, along with the strong aroma of chili and fresh bread. Jed placed his hand on the small of Rachell's back and ushered her inside what was indeed a mercantile, or a museum.

  Rachell came to a full stop just inside the doorway, causing Jed to nearly step on top of her. He hadn't' been teasing. Before her stood a full suit of body armor-the metallic shell of a royal knight standing right there in the center of the cabin. Her eyes continued an upward ascent toward a borage of baskets, bird cages, lanterns and dried herbs which hung from the rough wood beams running across the ceiling.

  To her right was the kind of concession counter one would expect to find in a mercantile. Behind it, large fans that looked to be of an Oriental nature were splayed above the shelves filled with an abundance of canned foods, boxes, and other items.

  Behind the suit of shining armor, however, were many other things she'd not expect to find inside such an isolated shack tucked deep in the mountains. A bicycle. A baby carriage covered in blue velvet. Other odd contraptions she'd never before seen were stacked around the ordinary barrels of shovels and stacks of clothing.

  Rachell felt as though she'd stepped into an overstuffed storage closet of the world.

  "Who's the purty red?"

  Startled by the gritty voice, Rachell leapt backward, trampling Jed's big booted feet as her eyes snapped to the far right corner of the cabin. There, in a tiny uncluttered cove was the local merchant, standing beside a small black stove, stirring a large pot of beans.

  Of all the images that ran through Rachell's mind as to what the proprietor of such an establishment would look like, a wrinkle-faced old woman with a corn-cob pipe clamped between her brown teeth was not one of them. She stood no taller than Rachell but was four times as wide. The white hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head didn't help to keep the loose skin of her face from sagging. Heavy wrinkles drooped forward from her brow, leaving only thin slanted slots for her sharp blue eyes to peer through.

  "My wife, Rachell," Jed replied.

  Stunned by the unexpected title, Rachell gaped up at him. He flashed a charming smile. He eased his hands into the sides of Rachell's heavy coat and slid it from her arms. "Rachell, this is Caroline O'Conner."

  Caroline O'Conner cackled with laughter. She clanked the spoon in her hand on the side of her pot, set the utensil aside and shuffled toward them. "Don't you listen to this smooth-talkin' devil. My name's Gran." She stopped at the far edge of the long counter and planted hands on her meaty hips. "Honey, get on over here and have some corn bread and beans before you shrivel up to nothin'. Hell's bells, Jed, don't you feed yer woman?"

  "My woman eats like a horse," Jed said as he again ushered Rachell forward.

  "I do not," Rachell protested, appalled by his comparison.

  "You do too. I don't know where it all goes, but she can eat damn near as much as I do."

  Gran turned and waddled back toward the stove, her heavy boots scuffing the dusty wood floor with each step. "Have a seat, honey." She motioned to three pieces of furniture spaced around her tiny cove, each fashioned from beautiful carved cherry wood and covered in a brocade tapestry.

  Jed hung their coats on some hooks behind the stove. He watched Rachell choose the double-wide chair furthest from the stove. She sat on the wide fancy seat with the grace of a duchess, her back straight, her shoulders squared, reminding Jed of the delicate lady beneath all the trail dust and buckskin.

  "Here you are, Mrs. Doulan," Gran said, handing her a tin plate. "Watch out for the green peppers. They can set a tender mouth afire."

  Although they had eaten breakfast only a couple hours ago, Rachell gratefully accepted the plate of beans and corn bread with the feminine politeness and genteel mannerisms that had intrigued Jed the night he'd met her.

  "I was raised on spicy food," Rachell said with a bright smile. "Jed uses dried peppers to season his meat and stews. I've not eaten so well since I was at home in Louisiana."

  "Ain't a wonder," said Gran. "Jed's the one who got me hooked on these hot little buggers."<
br />
  "You certainly have a wide variety of merchandise in your store," Rachell commented, glancing over her shoulder.

  "Ain't it the truth," Gran replied, her scratchy voice full of pride. "When me and my Harvey built this cabin, we never intended it to be a mercantile, but when folks started flockin' to these mountains in search of gold, we didn't have much

  choice in the matter. Bein' the only cabin for miles, folks just showed up at our door, lookin' to trade whatever they had in their wagon for a pick ax."

  "So you traded your own supplies?"

  "You betcha. Plenty of them folks had pressing needs, hard up for a bag of beans. Folks kept comin', and we kept tradin'. Before long we was keepin' this front room stocked up for customers."

  "You've certainly acquired some rare items."

  "Ain't much I won't take. I've sold plenty of them foreign contraptions. Never fails that some city-dwellin' nandy-pandy will get himself lost in these woods and pay top dollar for some whatnot I took off the back of some Swede's wagon. Course, I've also had folks in here so desperate for their chance to pick a chunk of gold out of them hills that they've asked to barter their own grandmothers."

  Jed smiled at the incredulous expression on Rachell's face.

  "No foolin', gal," the old woman insisted.

  "What do you do in such a case?" asked Rachell.

  "First off, I ask if she's able to work."

  The light melodious notes of Rachell's laughter danced across the room. The sound moved powerfully through Jed, nettling under his skin.

  It dawned on him, that in all the weeks they'd been together, he'd never heard Rachell laugh.

  "You're as bad as Jed," Rachell said, smiling at Gran who beamed with amusement as she filled another tin plate with beans.

  Realizing he was still standing by the stove, staring at Rachell, Jed moved to take his seat.

  "Glad to see you found a woman who's'got a sense of humor," Gran said, handing him a plate as he sat beside Rachell. She met Jed's gaze, approval shining in her eyes.

  "Where're your grandsons?" Jed asked, anxious to change the subject.

  "Gabe and Abel headed back out at daybreak to check their traps, mumbling somethin' about the migration of vermin." A