by Stacey Kayne
"Because I never wanted a man, that's why!" Water sloshed between them as she angrily crossed her arms. "I decided I'd rather die a spinster than be auctioned off like a brood sow to some sonnet-spewing, flower-picking dandy! If my brothers had seen the fumbling aristocrats Miss Abigail had arranged as suitors, they'd have laughed themselves stupid! But they didn't see them," she said in a softer tone.
Jed saw the anguish in her expression before she lifted her leg and turned, putting her back to him.
"Nobody came to see," she said after a moment. "Because nobody cared who I was married off to, so long as I was somebody else's problem."
When Jed touched her shoulder she flinched away from him. "Rachell, you've been widowed for five years. I can't believe you haven't had suitors."
"There've been more randy men after me than you could shake a stick at! Not one of them suited me."
"You would have given yourself to me," Jed said with certainty.
She glanced over her shoulder. "Yes," she answered, looking into his eyes with a tenderness that stung his soul.
Damn his ignorant hide. He should have realized she was seeking more than physical fulfillment. But, he never imagined the extent of her innocence. "Sugar, you barely know me."
"That wasn't stopping you a moment ago," she said in a dull tone.
"A moment ago I didn't know-"
"I do recall, Mr. Jed. It started with me being a virgin."
She tried to push away from him. Jed reached out, gripping her small waist and pulling her securely onto his lap. He ground his teeth as she trembled from his touch. "No. But I do have a problem with a certain imp regretting a brash decision and being stuck with a husband she doesn't want."
She met his gaze with sad eyes and a tight stubborn jaw. "When did I ask for a promise of marriage?"
The question shocked him speechless.
"I'm not baiting a trap for you, Jed. You can still get the annulment. I won't protest it."
"Rachell, any man worth the title makes a wife of the woman who gives him her virginity."
"Then do tell, where do all the whores come from? Surely they too had been virgins at one time or is that something the Lord sorts out beforehand?"
"You're not a whore," Jed bit out through clenched teeth.
"No, Mr. Jed, I'm a virgin widow. As such, who besides you and me would ever know that it was you and not my late husband who took my sacred virginity, or that I offered it up as the kind of divine sacrifice you make it out to be."
Lord, he didn't know whether to shove her sassy ass into the water or end his throbbing angst by accepting what she was offering. He didn't have to marry her for making love to her, she was already his wife!
If he truly believed that, he'd have bedded her weeks ago. And if this were just a casual exchange of physical pleasure, he'd probably not be having these reservations. But it wasn't. He knew Rachell hadn't been showered with affection in her lifetime. It was when he was kind that she had been the most wary with him.
She was confusing gratitude and physical attraction for love. An illusion that would wear off the moment they arrived in California and she was surrounded by young prospective husbands.
"Rachell, you don't love me."
"That's not true." She lifted a hand from the water and brushed her fingers across his chest. "But I suppose it doesn't really matter when you don't want me."
"The hell I don't!" he shouted with exasperation. The woman was pushing his patience and his body to their outermost limits. "I've never wanted a woman more!"
He saw the hurt in her eyes and knew she didn't believe him. "I've got hard proof, honey," he said, snatching her hand from his chest. He slid her small palm over the length of his throbbing flesh, simultaneously sending his breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He instantly regretted the rash move and pulled her hand back up to his chest.
"Sugar, we need to get out of here," he said in a strained breath.
"I don't think so."
Jed didn't know whether to curse or laugh as he watched her lips curve into a seductive smile. He had time for neither. Her hand returned, moving over him in a light caress that had him swearing in several languages.
His eyes clenched shut, his entire body tensed as he strained for control, something he severely lacked when he was around this particular tiny woman. He opened his eyes and found her watching him with smoldering green eyes as she discovered and caressed, turning his blood to fire. "Rachell...honey... Stop!"
"Why? Am I hurting you?" She lowered her lips to his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest.
"Rachell-"
She measured him again, breaking the firestorm of his release. He cupped her face with his hands and took her mouth in a deep kiss. Rachell continued to explore and caress as waves of pleasure pulsated through him, shaking him.
By the time he forced himself away from her lips, his body was once again aching as though he hadn't known release in months, not just minutes. If they stayed in this position much longer, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from pulling her down onto his lap and binding their marriage.
"Hold on, honey," he said, lifting her into his arms as he climbed out of the warm pool. He wouldn't take her virginity, but he'd sure as hell give her back some of the pleasure she'd given him.
He felt her skin prickle as the cold air touched her sensitive wet flesh. "Don't worry, honey. I'll warm you up."
"You will?" Her eyes widened with surprise as he placed her on the white linen.
"I will," he agreed.
Although she shivered from the cold night air, silvery white vapors rose from her flushed, heated skin. Rachell was mesmerized by the mist rising into the sky from Jed's broad shoulders as he tenderly dried her with the sheet.
"Aren't you cold?" she asked in a trembling voice.
"Not a chance. I've been on fire for weeks now."
He tossed the end of the linen away from her body, letting it float down to the ground around her. "Sweet lady," he whispered, his husky voice sending a new wave of tremors across her body. "How can you think you are anything less than perfect?"
Rachell's eyes opened wide as he moved over her, easing her down onto the sheet.
"Are you afraid now?" he asked, his body hovering inches above her, his legs straddling her hips.
Rachell slowly shook her head.
"You should be," he said with a slow smile. He kissed her lips as he ran a finger down the center of her soft body. "You don't have a clue as to the type of torture you've been putting me through these past weeks. But you will," he said before claiming her mouth.
Jed's hands and lips roved Rachell's body, caressing her from her forehead to her fingertips to the tips of her toes, everywhere except the places she ached to be touched.
"Are you cold?" Jed asked, his lips returning to hers. She shivered against the length of his body.
"No!" she snapped. "I'm burning up!"
Jed laughed as he trailed kisses down her throat. "You haven't even begun to burn."
"Jed, why won't you-" She cried out as his tongue flicked over the filling peak of her nipple, stinging her with pleasure.
"Is that what you're wanting, sweetheart?"
Her reply was a strangled moan as he took her into the warmth of his mouth. Taking his time, he treated her other breast to the same sweet torture.
Beyond exhaustion, Rachell didn't know how much more she could stand. Jed showed no sign of relenting as his lips again moved down her body.
"Have I neglected anything else?" he asked, kissing her belly. He lifted his head, flashing a dark smile that caused a whimper to rise from her throat as fire pooled deep in her abdomen.
"I thought so," he said, his lips returning to her skin.
Oh, dear Lord. Rachell was certain she'd not survive another deep caress like the one she'd experienced in the hot spring. "Jed?"
But Jed just trailed kisses down her leg, his hands curving around her hips as his lips caressed her inner thigh. Rachell sud
denly realized his intent.
"Jed! I don't think-"
"Don't think. Just feel."
Rachell found she had no choice. He took her body in a gliding caress that stripped away her mind, the earth, the stars. She twisted and turned, crying out in mindless abandon as the night sky shattered around her, again and again, splintering the stars in a shimmering array of wild sensation.
When he finally released her from the thrall of ecstasy, she slipped from a state of hysteria to one of heavy slumber, soothed by the rich sound of Jed's voice, hypnotized by the silver glow of his eyes, lulled by the heavy beat of his heart.
When Rachell woke, she was inside the cabin, cradled in Jed's arms. "Jed?" she whispered, too sated to hold her eyes open for more than a second.
"Go back to sleep, sugar. I'm only putting you to bed."
"I fell asleep?"
His deep throaty laugh vibrated through the tingling cells of her body. "Honey, you've been asleep for near an hour. I just didn't have the strength to carry you back to the cabin 'til now, and it was getting damn cold outside. You did a good job on this cabin," he said as he laid her on the bed. "You more than deserve to sleep in a clean bed."
"You're going to stay with me, aren't you?" she asked, latching her arms around his neck.
"If you want me to," he said, lifting her back into his arms.
"I don't ever want to leave your arms."
He positioned her so that she lay mostly on top of him with her head resting against his shoulder. Her legs rubbed over his buckskin pants, but his chest was gloriously bare.
She sighed with contentment as he spread a blanket over them, loving the feel of her skin against his. "I'm so tired," she whispered, combing a hand over his chest.
"Go back to sleep," he said, his hand stroking her back. "I'll hold you."
'Thank you," she whispered as she drifted back into the deep haze of sleep. "I love you, Jed."
Chapter Eighteen
A storm of emotions was brewing inside Rachell. Her mood fluctuating between rage and despair, she stared into the pot of lightly simmering stew. It had been two days since Jed set her ablaze under a moonlit sky then cradled her against his warm skin as she slept.
He'd not touched her since.
Rachell opened the door to the woodstove and inspected the low fire Jed had stoked when he'd come into the cabin, just before dawn. Trying her hand at stew today, she'd decided a smaller fire would keep the steaming broth of meat and potatoes from becoming a pot of smoking coals.
Though she didn't know why she bothered. Jed had eaten an equally detestable meal the night before without saying a damn word. He'd dusted the concoction with his dried peppers then run off to the shed before she could even take her seat, just as he'd done the night before that.
She latched the stove shut and she dunked the wooden spoon into her stew. The little time he'd spent inside the cabin he avoided her like the plague, without so much as brushing her sleeve. Last night her temper had snapped-she'd raged at him for a solid half hour, and he'd barely muttered a word before going to bunk down in the stable- again. Each time
she caught his gaze, she could see the shadows haunting his silver eyes.
There was no mystery as to what had brought those shadows. Although she'd been half asleep, she remembered pondering the sudden tension in his body immediately after her proclamation of love, and now thought he may have even mumbled a curse.
Tears hazed her eyes as she gently stirred their supper.
Her love was obviously not well received and certainly not reciprocated. But he did care for her-he'd admitted as much. Which didn't account for much when she loved him clear down to her soul.
Dear God, what was she going to do? She had such little time left alone with him. And he was wasting it by brooding!
She started at a knock on the door. Fear nettled up her spine as she glanced over. A dark figure was clearly visible through cracks in the rotted wood. Jed didn't usually come back before noon, and always warned her with one of his whistling birdcalls.
The door rattled again, and Rachell was certain it wasn't Jed. Silently, she walked toward the table, where she'd laid her loaded rifle.
"Miss Nightingale?" said a whispered voice. "You in there?"
"Juniper?" she answered, stunned by the young male voice.
"Yes, ma'am. Please don't be frightened. I've come alone. I've come to warn you."
The rifle tucked under her arm, Rachell unbarred the door and pulled it open, her gaze sweeping the empty yard before she glanced up at the pale blue eyes peering down at her from behind a thick swath of blond hair.
Juniper flashed a broad grin, revealing the sweetness she'd come to know in him, and relief broke from her chest in a deep sigh. "June, how did you get here?"
"Carefully . I'm sure glad to see you're in good health, Miss Nightingale."
She cringed at the mention of her stage name. "June, my name is Rachell."
"Oh," he said thoughtfully, then smiled as he batted a tuft of hair from his eyes, which settled right back over his forehead as before. "You look like a Rachell."
She smiled, thinking he looked like he needed a haircut, and a meal. His clothes hung from his spindly frame, making her wonder if he'd eaten at all since she'd last seen him. "You should come on inside."
She backed into the cabin, but June made no move to enter. His sky-blue eyes stared down at her in pure wonder.
"June? Do you want to come in?"
His young face hardened, as she knew it could. She'd known Juniper for well over two months before she'd seen his lips even hint at a grin, and knew too well that the boy had been given little reason in his lifetime to smile. The evening she'd watched Juniper's uncle goad another man into calling June out for a gunfight, then forced June into the road to face down a man more than twice his age, she'd been terrified for the tall youth. She had wondered how such a young man could possess the hardness she saw in his blue eyes as he gave the one warning he'd given to so many others.
"Mister, / don't want to kill you."
But June did, just as he'd outdrawn all the other fools who'd taken his uncle's bet. His uncle had walked back into the saloon with a grin and a fistful of money, leaving June to slip back into the shadows, the pain in his expression so tangible, Rachell had felt it clear to her heart.
"Miss Rachell," Juniper said in a firm tone, "you ought not to trust folks so easily. I could be scouting for Maxwell for all you know."
Reflexively, her grip shifted on the rifle. "Is Maxwell in Nevada?"
June's sharp gaze didn't miss her movement on the gun. "Yes, ma'am," he said, his eyes on the rifle. "But he's still a good ways off."
"Oh, thank goodness," she sighed. She grabbed June's sleeve and yanked him over the threshold. "Sit," she instructed, pulling out a chair.
He obediently slumped into it. "I wasn't sure how you'd take me showing up after that mess in Lake's Crossing. I sure didn't want to take you back to Sumner."
"I know, June. You've always been as sweet and harmless to me as a springtime daisy. I appreciated you going along to look out for me like you did."
His lips twitched with a shy grin as he swatted again at his hair. Rachell turned away from him to retrieve Jed's shears, thinking she could fix his vision problem in a matter of seconds.
"That's why I'm here, to help you get home. I came to warn Mr. Doulan about the- Miss Rachell?" his voice squeaked as she smoothed her hand under the veil of blond hair draping over his forehead and eyes.
"Keep talking, June. You can't even see past this thick mat of hair."
Juniper groaned and shifted in his seat. "Don't go makin' me look like a schoolboy," he whined. "I got a hard enough time bein' the age I am!"
"Hush," she ordered. With a few snips of blond hair she cleared his field of vision. "Much better," she said, thinking he looked quite handsome.
Juniper scowled as red tinged his high cheekbones.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
His eyes widened in disbelief. "I gotta go! I jus' wanted to pass on the information that Maxwell is coming."
Rachell gripped his bony shoulder as he started to jump to his feet. "Not until you eat."
"I sure don't want to be here when Doulan gets back," he protested.
"He rode out at dawn to check the canyons. He doesn't usually come back until late in the day."
"He checks on you throughout the day, Miss Rachell. I know 'cause I've been tryin' to get to you for two days now."
"He does? You have?" Both surprised her.
"Yes ma'am. Aside from one narrow passage, you can't get in here from the north unless you climb the mountainside and that's just what I did. I watched him check the canyons yesterday. This morning, after he rode out, I scaled down this side of the cliff."
Rachell blanched. "June, it's a straight drop-off!"
"Sure looks like it, don't it," he said with a grin. "There was just enough of a grade and cracks to keep my footing. I'd rather scale a straight cliff than face Doulan again. Folks in Weaver had plenty of stories to tell about him. They was callin' him the Shadow Stalker 'cause if he was on your trail, he'd creep up on ya like your own shadow and you'd not have a chance in he-ah-heaven."
Rachell smiled as he blushed at his near slipup.
"If all them stories are true," Juniper continued, "he's bound to know I've been in this canyon."
"Damn straight I will."
Rachell jumped at the sound of Jed's harsh voice. His large frame filled the doorway, his revolver aimed steadily at Juniper's narrow chest.
Juniper stood, slowly lifting his hands into the air.
"Jed, put that away!" Rachell demanded, realizing the true danger before her. June was young, but he was alive because he had outdrawn every man who'd ever called him out. There had been far too many. "Juniper came here to help, not to pose a threat."
"Glad to hear it, honey," Jed said, his hard gaze never wavering from the boy. "Juniper, with this being a cordial visit and all, perhaps you wouldn't mind tossing those guns this way."
