by Vanessa Vale
“Jackson was there?” I asked, stunned and afraid. Now I knew why he had nightmares.
Miss Esther nodded. “From what Big Ed said, it was one of his first confrontations with the Indians, one of his first battles in the army. He was with Reno, the man who'd come in from the south to fight, so most of the slaughter was finished by the time that regiment arrived. He wasn't a sharpshooter yet, but it carved his career.”
My fingers gripped my cup tight enough for my knuckles to turn white. “He was what, nineteen at the time?”
She nodded. “Around there. That was near the end of the Sioux. There was an entire campaign to finish them off.”
I cringed at hearing the truth, but it was very vague in comparison to what Jackson had to bear. “I guess Jackson excelled at shooting and soon became one of the best, perhaps the best around these parts. The Colonel arrived earlier in the week to bring him back for a special assignment.” She took a sip of coffee. “I don't know what it is, and neither does Big Ed. Neither did Jackson.”
“He didn't want to go.” I knew it. I remembered how he touched me, how he all but consumed me the last few days.
“He did not,” Miss Esther agreed. “The question is, are you going to sit here and cry or are you going to go be with your man?”
My cup slipped from my fingers and hit the table hard, coffee sloshing over the brim. “Go be with him? He left me behind.”
“True, but he was doing what he thought was best, not what's right.”
I frowned. “There's a difference?”
“Hyacinth, I love you. You know that.”
I nodded at her frank words, words she didn't share very often.
“You've never stood up for anything in your life. You let your sisters run roughshod over you. That poor girl Jane, you let that one incident—” she held up her hand to stop me from arguing, “—almost keep you from the man you love because you were afraid to feel again. It was terrible what happened to you and your friend, God rest her soul. But even Jackson ran roughshod over you, which is fine and good, because a woman sometimes just needs that. Do you want to be with Jackson, or not?”
Her words stung, but there was truth in them. I nodded.
“Then for once in your life, do what you think is right, what your heart says. Let your sisters, the town, everyone be damned. It's your life, now go live it.”
“I can't...I can't just go to Fort Tallmadge myself!”
She grinned at my outburst.
“Of course you can't. That's why I'm going with you.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JACKSON
Jeffries raked the small pile of money towards him across the worn table. His grin was unusual to see; the man rarely won at Poker and rarely drank. Perhaps a large amount of whiskey was necessary to help his skill.
“Bet you're glad to be heading home,” he said, reaching down to pick up a coin that had rolled onto the floor.
“You could have told me why you came to escort me back. I thought I was needed for a mission.”
The man rolled his eyes—definitely a sign of inebriation—and tossed up his hands. “You remind me every ten minutes, plus my j aw still hurts where you punched me.” He raised his hand to the place where my left hook had struck him once he'd dragged me to Fort Tallmadge and lined me up with others for commendations. I hadn't been called back for duty. I hadn't been wanted as a sharpshooter. They'd wanted to pin a medal on my jacket—in person—because the President's man had come all the way from Washington to do it. “We all knew you wouldn't come if we told you the reason.”
This was a conversation we had over and over again since I'd rode off with him a week ago. I spent two days in the saddle in misery because I'd have to kill people once again. Instead, they'd smacked me on the back and pinned a medal on my chest. After that, I'd been free to go.
I'd been so angry that he'd agreed to return with me to the ranch and smooth things over with Hyacinth. She could have gone with me, seen the medal ceremony, although I didn't give a fuck about the medal. I gave a fuck about Hyacinth. I didn't think returning to Hyacinth without Jeffries would go well; I'd be lucky if she ever spoke to me again. I was anxious to ride through the night so I could get back to her more quickly and make things right, but that was not to happen. Jeffries had agreed to come, but he'd made me agree not to kill our horses doing so.
One of the saloon girls came over to our table and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Looks like you're having a good night.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he replied, but his eyes didn't make it all the way up to her face, instead stopping just above the ruffled edge of her corset and the bounty that she had on display.
“Perhaps I can make that night even better,” she purred, taking his army hat from his head and placing it on hers. “I'm Mabel.”
She waved to a friend who sauntered toward us.
“You can just call me Colonel,” Jeffries said, pulling her down onto his lap.
The woman was attractive, but the kohl on her eyes and reddened cheeks made her look garish. Her friend who'd come to join us put her arm around my shoulder, mimicking her friend. She did absolutely nothing for me. I wanted Hyacinth. I dreamed about her; missing her had obliterated all of my nightmares. In their place, I dreamed of her soft skin, her little pants of desire, her clean scent. It was a completely different kind of torture.
As I was lifting the woman's arm off my shoulder so she could move on to a more eager man, I heard, “Take your hands off my husband.”
I paused mid-motion thinking at first that I was hearing things. Jeffries eyebrows went so high they were lost beneath his hair. Everyone fell silent in the large room; even the piano player paused.
I spun in my chair to confirm Hyacinth was really behind me. There she was, my wife, with an angry fire in her eyes, red slashes of color in her cheeks and a gun in her hand. Both women moved away, yet out of the corner of my eye I saw Jeffries yank Mabel back onto his lap. “That's his wife, not mine.”
I stood and faced Hyacinth. “It's not as it seems, love.”
She quirked a brow.
“Tell her, Jeffries,” I said, not looking at my friend.
“It's not as it seems,” the man repeated.
When she lowered the gun, the music began again and everyone returned to their cards, women, or drink. I didn't know if I should be thrilled to see her or want to toss her over my knee and spank her into next week.
“Hyacinth Reed, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I'm not letting you leave me for the army,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.
I'd never seen her so intent before. Her ire was high and it was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. Hyacinth, my Hyacinth, was seething mad and I'd never seen anything more incredible. This was probably the first time she'd done something so bold in her life. Beneath her bravado, I had to imagine she was quaking with fear. I had to see what she would do, what her intentions were, so I didn't tell her the truth. Yet.
“You're not?” I asked, taking a step toward her. While she'd made quite a spectacle, I didn't need everyone in the saloon to know the details of our dispute.
She shook her head. Her hair was neatly pulled back and her dress was fresh and crisp and prim. It showed off her lovely curves but that was all. I was the only man who knew what she looked like beneath and that power, that privilege, was so humbling. She'd come after me and in that moment, I couldn't have loved her more if I tried.
“You helped me with my fears, made me see that I was hiding behind them instead of living. While I probably won't ever feel completely safe near that creek and I'll always have guilt about Jane, it feels good to let it go. To move on. But you—” She poked her finger into my chest. “—you kept your problems to yourself and then left me because I wasn't worthy of helping you with them.”
I cocked my head and sighed at her words. Before, she hadn't thought she was worthy of me, which hadn't made me happy, but she'd just said I thought she wasn't worthy,
“I've done horrible things, love. I'm tarnished. I thought I was going back to do the same things again. I couldn't go and shoot people, then come home to you. You'd be tarnished, too.”
“That wasn't for you to decide for yourself,” she countered.
“When it comes to your safety, sometimes you don't get a choice.”
“Would I have been in danger?”
“No.”
“Then you shouldn't have left me behind.”
I leaned in close and whispered, “You shouldn't have to live with a killer.”
Her dark eyes widened. “You think you're a murderer?”
“I know I am.” Admitting the truth still gave me that gut wrenching feeling that would never go away.
“Then I'm a killer, too.”
I frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
We were arguing in the middle of a saloon with Jeffries and an amorous woman on his lap listening in. The rest of the patrons were ignoring us. I wasn't sure if this kind of thing happened frequently enough that it was commonplace or if they were too drunk to care.
“I took Jane to the creek. It was my idea. She died because of my actions.”
I shook my head. “There's no comparison. You didn't pull the trigger. Speaking of, give me that.” I reached out and took the gun from her hand.
“You were doing your job,” she said.
“You were doing your job,” Jeffries repeated.
We both looked to the army man. “You can't let it fester, Reed. It was your job to be a sharpshooter. You knew going in you weren't practicing to hunt antelope. You've always known. You were under orders and you saved men.”
I shook my head at my friend. Mabel slid her finger back and forth along his collar, but he wasn't distracted.
“We are going to go back and forth on this until you're cold in your grave, but it still doesn't resolve why your wife is here.” He grinned and turned his attention to Mabel.
I looked down at Hyacinth. “I'm not leaving you. You said we'd be together, that you'd give me whatever I wanted. I want to be with you.”
“Hyacinth.” Her voice came out on a whisper, almost a plea.
“What was the one thing I wanted?” she asked.
I looked down at her flat belly, then my eyes lifted to meet hers. “Are you—”
She shrugged. “I don't know yet, but I can't get what will make me happy unless you're around.” She looked from side to side. “Perhaps I'm just being too selective in the choice of father.”
That was it. She'd piqued my anger as far as it would go. “Like hell,” I said, then stooped down and tossed her over my shoulder, carrying her up the stairs to one of the bedrooms.
“Jackson!” she cried, pounding on my lower back with her fists.
I kicked the door shut behind me. “You can't take me to a room of one of your...your women.”
I carefully placed her back on her feet before me. “First of all, this is the only place in this God-forsaken speck of a town that has beds. Secondly, I have no interest in any woman but you. Thirdly, I am not taking a job with the army. They only wanted to give me a stupid commendation. They refused to tell me until I arrived at the fort because they knew I wouldn't leave you otherwise. Some big stuffed shirt from Washington was there and they expected everyone to be present.”
Her mouth fell open. “You mean you're not….”
I shook my head. “I was on my way back to you. I forced Jeffries to come along to explain in case you didn't believe me, which seems to be the case. Unfortunately, the man is most likely indisposed now until morning with Mabel. And I have no intention of letting you out of this room until at least sunrise.”
“You shouldn't have left,” she said, tears filling her eyes.
“You shouldn't have come to find me all alone.”
“Miss Esther is with me.”
I took a step back. “Here? In the saloon?”
She shook her head. “No, she's staying the night on a cot in the town doctor's infirmary. You're redirecting. I'm the one who's angry, Jackson.”
“I will not have my wife coming into a saloon guns blazing. Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“I will not have my husband going off to be a sharpshooter in the army without me.”
“I can solve your problem easily enough. I am not going back to the army. They don't want me and I sure as hell don't want them. I am done being a sharpshooter. I am done being anything but your husband.”
“Oh,” she replied. Her shoulders relaxed.
I placed the gun on a small table by the door and sat down on the bed, the frame squeaking beneath my weight. “Come here, love.”
She looked at me, then came over to stand between my knees. I placed my hands on her narrow waist. “You scared ten years off my life.”
“I'm sorry, Jackson.”
“I'm sorry, too. I wanted to tell you, wanted to be with you, but love, there are things about my past, just like you, that haunt me. You kept the shame you felt to yourself for a decade, just as I don't want to share the shame in what I did either. I ached for you, Hyacinth. Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever did and I swear, I'll never do it again.”
Her hand came up and stroked my hair. The soft feel of it was soothing. “And I swear I'll never storm a saloon for you again. But if I see another woman with her arm about your neck, I won't be held responsible for my actions.”
I grinned at her tart reply, for I reveled in her admittance of jealousy.
“Yes, ma'am. I should spank you for your completely irrational behavior.”
“Jackson,” she warned, trying to tug away from my hold.
“But I won't.”
“Oh?” she asked, placing her hands on my shoulders. She was so close, close enough I could pick up her floral scent and could feel her warm breath on my face. I reached up and began to pluck the pins from her hair, letting them fall to the floor at her feet.
“Do you know what you did to me when you aimed that gun at me?”
She shook her head as she bit down on her delectable lower lip.
“You made me hard.”
Her eyes widened, then glanced down between us where she could surely see my rock hard cock pressing against my pants. Even after all the ways we'd fucked, she was still too innocent to understand—I'd only taken her the first time a week ago. It seemed like so much longer.
“I did?” she questioned.
As I nodded, I added, “I should spank you for not considering your own safety, but I like seeing the wild side of Hyacinth Reed and your possessiveness is very arousing.”
“You're mine, Jackson. I couldn't bear to have you give your heart to another.”
I took her hands and placed them against my chest, directly over my heart. “It belongs to you, love. Only you.”
“Good, because I don't think I could love someone who didn't love me back.”
I grinned at her backwards way of telling me she loved me too. “I've been derelict in my duties.”
I fell back on the bed and tugged her and she landed directly on top of me, her hair falling around our faces like a curtain.
“Being a husband?”
I worked her dress up her legs. “Filling you with my seed.”
“Yes, you have. I've felt so empty, Jackson.” Her voice took on a pouty tone. While she was playing with me, her words had me groaning.
“Where?” I asked, my hands skimming over her ass, then dipping down to tug her thighs apart just before my fingers brushed over the slick heat of her. “Here?”
I dipped into her entrance and her inner walls clenched down on my finger.
“Yes,” she whispered, her breath fanning across my neck.
I played with her pussy for a long minute, savoring the feel of her. I'd missed her, missed touching her, missed her very eager, very ready pussy. But that wasn't enough, so I slipped my hand back and over the tiny virgin pucker of her ass. “What about here? Do you feel empty here?”
“Jackson,” she pleaded. The last time I touched her there, she'd come, so I knew ass play was pleasurable for her, but I hadn't done more than dip the tip of my finger inside.
I raised my other hand to place a finger to her mouth and slid it across her lower lip. When she opened her mouth, I slipped my finger within and she sucked on it. “How about here? Does your mouth feel empty without my cock?”
She released my finger on a gasp as I continued to play with her pussy and ass.
“Jackson, please,” she begged.
I was rock hard against her belly and I had no intention of denying either of us what we both so desperately wanted. Rolling over, I tucked her beneath me and began to work the dress from her. Her hands came to my shirt and we fought with our clothes, our breathing wild and motions frantic until we were both naked.
I kissed her then, the tips of her breasts hardening as they pressed against my chest. Her legs came up so I was settled within the cradle of her hips, her knees holding me firmly in place. These weren’t the virginal, chaste kisses I first shared with her. This was a mating of mouths, where it had been a drought and we'd finally found succor. I needed this, needed to know her ardor matched mine, to know I was as lost in her as she was in me.
I didn't linger on her mouth, but moved down her neck to her breasts, taking one taut nipple within my mouth and suckling at it, knowing a baby of our making would soon do the same. Switching sides, I brought her close to orgasm; her breathy cries and the way she arched and tugged at my hair was indication that she loved it. I kissed my way down her belly so I could settle between her thighs, the sweet scent of her arousal drifting up to me. I tugged playfully at the dark curls that covered her pussy.
“These are going to go. As soon as we get home, I'm shaving you.”
She went up on her elbows and looked down at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes blurry with arousal.
“Why?” she asked.
I nudged her clit with my nose, then stiffened my tongue and licked a path up her seam. “Because it's going to be so much more intense for you with this pussy all bare and smooth. I believe I have a job to do.”
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