Wild Texas Flame

by Janis Reams Hudson

  When she started for the house again, the others followed.

  Tom said something to her and she laughed up at him.

  Ash could see her more clearly now, even without the light from the fire. Her face was streaked with soot and the hem of her once-white nightgown was charred. Her bare feet were dirty and her hair hung down her back and over her shoulders in tangles.

  He’d sat here fearing for her life, and she was laughing, acting like she’d been out on a damned picnic. He flexed his fingers and imagined he already felt the satisfaction of turning her over his knee and paddling that cute little behind of hers.

  What right did she have to rush out into the night and risk her life fighting a fire? What right did she have to put herself in such danger?

  What right do I have to care?

  The question made him grind his teeth in frustration.

  “…some ointment on those burns,” she was telling one of the men.

  “Aw, you don’t have to do that, Miss Sunny. Toppy’s got some goose grease he keeps for stuff like this.” The man—Larry?—smiled as he answered.

  Not Larry. Erik. Erik Sutherland, that was the man’s name.

  Man, hell. He wasn’t much more than a boy. Maybe nineteen. And Sunny smiled back at him. Ash had the nearly uncontrollable urge to smash something.

  “Goose grease, Erik? I won’t hear of it. Toppy can save that for the horses. We’ll use my salve.”

  “Shucks, Miss Sunny, you don’t have to do that,” another man, the one who’d objected so strenuously to Ash’s presence the day Sunny had brought him here, told her. This one was Larry.

  They were only a few feet from the porch and no one had spotted Ash yet when Sunny answered, “Now Lar—”

  “He’s right, Sunny,” Ash said. “Goose grease is good enough for the likes of them.”

  Sunny jerked her head toward him and gasped. “Ash! What— You’re up! You’re dressed!”

  He raked his gaze down her gown and back up. “And you’re not.”

  She cocked her head and looked at him quizzically, then glanced down at herself. “Oh!” She clutched the soot-streaked gown to her chest. All that did was clearly outline her firm, full breasts. “I didn’t realize…excuse me.” With her face lowered, she dashed up the steps and into the house.

  The man named Larry placed a foot on the bottom step. “You had no call to embarrass Miss Sunny like that, McCord.”

  Ash glared down at him, burning with the need to get up out of the goddamn wheelchair and meet the bastard face to face, toe to toe. Fist to fist. He gripped the arms of the chair until his fingers ached.

  “Yeah!” another man shouted.

  Ash raked them all with his gaze. “And you had no call to let her get within fifty yards of that fire,” he said softly to keep from shouting. “What the hell’s the matter with you men? She could have been killed! I can’t believe you actually let her go into a burning building like that.”

  “I supposed you could have stopped her?” Larry said, hooking his thumbs over his belt.

  “Not from here, no,” Ash acknowledged. “But there’s not a man among you who couldn’t have. Then again, maybe there’s not a man among you.”

  “Now hold on there, McCord.” Tom stepped forward.

  “No, you hold on. You let a woman risk her life for something as worthless as a trunk? What kind of men are you? If you won’t think of her safety, you’d better be thinking about yourselves. Like it or not, Sunny Thornton is your boss. Anything happens to her, Ian Baxter will be all over this ranch quicker than you can spit, and every one of you will be riding the trail looking for work. Which is maybe where you should be, except Sunny needs you. But I’ll tell you this right now. The next one of you who lets her risk her neck for any reason is going to answer to me. You got that?”

  He looked each man straight in the eye, and one by one they looked away. He’d made his point.

  He maneuvered the wheelchair and headed for the door.

  “What do we do with this here trunk?” someone called.

  Ash halted and ground his teeth again. “In the house,” he barked.

  Two men carried the big old leatherbound trunk into the parlor, then left in a hurry.

  Ash wheeled himself inside and pushed the door to behind him. Someone, probably Katy, had left a lamp burning. He glared at the trunk. She’d almost got herself killed for it. It didn’t look like anything special. He’d seen dozens like it before. His mother had had a similar one years ago.

  At a noise from the hall, he turned.

  Sunny had changed her gown and put on a robe. Her face was scrubbed clean of soot, but now radiated fierce anger. Hers reignited his.

  “You had no right,” she said in a harsh whisper. “No right to talk to my men that way.”

  “Maybe not,” he said, keeping his voice low despite the urge to yell. “But you had no right to risk your life for a goddamn trunk, either. What the hell were you thinking about, woman? You could have been killed!”

  “Well I wasn’t! I had to get that trunk.”

  “It wasn’t worth it, Sunny. It wasn’t worth the risk you took. Not only did you almost get yourself killed, but three men risked their lives to go in after you. Unless you’ve got one of your sisters in there,” he said pointing at the offending trunk, “then it damn well wasn’t worth it!”

  The rage seemed to drain from her face as tears filled her eyes. She knelt before him and placed a trembling hand on is thigh.

  He shuddered at her touch.

  “Please don’t be angry, Ash. When you see what’s inside the tr—”

  “To hell with the trunk!” He grabbed her by her upper arms and dragged her into his lap. With a will of their own his arms wrapped around her and hugged her to his chest.

  Oh, God. She felt so good, so right in his arms. Her weight, her shape—designed, he imagined, to fit him perfectly—filled that empty hole deep inside him.

  Lamplight caught the tears that turned her eyes to liquid gold. Her lips trembled.

  He felt his heart pound. She could have died in that fire. “You scared ten years off my life, woman. God, don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  Her lips parted on a breath, and he did the only thing he could do. He kissed her.

  He tried to be gentle. He wanted to be gentle. But the fear for her still raged inside him like the fire that had consumed the barn. Like his lips consumed hers.

  She smelled of fresh soap, lilacs, and smoke. She tasted like heaven. His hands trembled with the need to clutch her to him and never let her go.

  He thrust his tongue into her mouth. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away. He didn’t want to hurt her or scare her. He let himself relax. He stroked her tongue with his. When she answered, his heart threatened to stop.

  He traced the curves and angles of her back, feeling the delicate structure of her body beneath his hands. To feel such softness, to hold it against him and know he had no right to even do that much, was sheer torture. But he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. Not when she was kissing him back with such innocent passion. Not when she was breathing nearly as fast and hard as he was.

  The soft fullness of her breasts pressed against his chest tormented him with the memory of having touched them. He ached to touch her there again, to fill his hand with her. It was so tempting, would be so easy. With one thumb, he stroked the side of one breast, feeling the round firmness beneath her thin robe and night shift.

  Her soft moan was almost more than he could bear. He wanted to touch her—all of her! He wanted to feel her skin, taste it.

  His pounding heart sent the blood racing through his veins. Heat, desperate and fierce, burned through his chest, his gut, and lit a flame in his loins. Any second she would feel the hardness rising up beneath her hip.

  With desperation, he gripped the back of her robe in both hands. If he didn’t, he feared he would end up doing something he knew they would both regret.

  The vision of taking her then and
there excited him beyond hardness into pain, even while it sickened him to the point of revulsion. If he didn’t stop the madness that urged him to sink himself inside her, Sunny Thornton would lose her virginity while straddling the lap of a cripple—a cripple in a goddamn wheelchair, for Christ’s sake.

  His hands at her back trembled.

  He couldn’t do that to her. Not to Sunny. Never to Sunny. It was too vulger to even think about.

  With a groan, he tore his lips from hers.

  When he forced his eyes open she was gazing at him with a look of such…the only word he could think of was wonder.

  She whispered his name. The sound of it on her kiss-swollen lips sent a hot shiver down his spine. She leaned into him again. Before her lips could capture his, he cupped her head in his hand and tucked it beneath his chin. He couldn’t kiss her again. He wasn’t strong enough to stop a second time.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I—” she looked up at him. “Oh, Ash, I was so scared. I thought I had plenty of time. The fire was at the far end when I went inside. Then when I found the trunk and turned to drag it out, flames were everywhere.”

  He shuddered at the mental picture her words painted. She’d been trapped by the flames and he hadn’t been able to help her. It galled him. He was thankful someone had been there to help. He tightened his arms around her. “It’s over now. Put it out of your mind.”

  The advice was easy to give. If only he could take it himself. Maybe then his mind would stop inventing a much more horrible ending to the fire.

  Another shudder ripped through him. He squeezed her even tighter. Any more, and he’d break her ribs. But she answered by pressing closer against his chest.

  God, but she felt good.

  He held her for long moments, yet not nearly long enough.

  “You must be tired.” She pushed against his chest. He had to force himself to loosen his hold. “I can’t believe you got out of bed.” Then she grinned. “But knowing you, you just wanted an excuse to put some pants on.”

  Ash laughed because he knew she expected him to, even though laughing was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to hold her close again, and reassure himself she was safe.

  But she was safe, for now, and would be even safer outside the circle of his arms. When she moved away from him, he let her go.

  After she helped him back into bed, she still seemed shaken. Ash pulled her down next to him and held her, admitting silently that it was more for his comfort than hers. In a matter of minutes, she was asleep in his arms.

  The lamp was still on, but he couldn’t reach it without waking her. He ignored it and closed his eyes.

  He would hold her this one night, because he couldn’t help himself. But it was only this once. No more. For her sake, and for his own sanity, tomorrow they would become nurse and patient again. That was all there could ever be for them.

  A shuffling sound brought his eyes open. Katy, Rachel, and Amy stood shivering in their nightgowns at his door. “We’re scared, Ash,” Amy whispered, her lower lip trembling.

  With a wry grin, he held out his free arm to them. “Bring a blanket and put out the lamp.”

  Within seconds the room was dark and the bed was full. Amy crawled in first and snuggled right up against him. Rachel curled in behind her, then Katy. His right arm pillowed all three of their heads, as his left did for Sunny.

  He felt himself grin in the darkness. Who would have ever thought Ash McCord, convicted back-shooter, ex-convict, would play pillow to four golden-haired girls.

  His left hand roamed Sunny’s back. His fingers trailed across the side of her breast.

  Correction. Make that three girls. And one woman. One beautiful, caring, headstrong, frustrating woman.

  Sunny woke enveloped in warmth. Beneath her cheek a deep bass drum hammered out a slow, steady beat. The poignant picture that greeted her when she opened her eyes to the morning light was that of mean, tough, Ash McCord holding her and all three of her sisters in his sleep. With the four of them effectively pinning him down by laying on his arms, his position couldn’t be comfortable, yet he slept with a slight smile on his lips.

  Sunny smiled too, remembering those lips on hers. She’d had no idea a simple kiss could generate such feelings. But then, there was nothing simple about that kiss. Inexperienced as she was, she knew that much.

  Her gaze strayed from his lips to his closed eyes to his cheeks. He needed a shave. Feeling bold because he was asleep, she ran her fingertips across his bristly jaw.

  His slight smile widened into a full grin and his eyes opened.

  Mesmerized by the heat in his bright blue eyes, she let him pull her head forward until their lips met.

  It was like coming home after being away for years. It was like a warm fire on a cold night, a cool drink on a hot day. It was heaven, and she reveled in it. His lips were smooth and firm and gentle and—

  “Sunny’s kissing Ash, Sunny’s kissing Ash!”

  The sing-song voice and the accompanying giggles brought the kiss to an abrupt, dissatisfying end.

  Since they’d all overslept, the girls thought they wouldn’t have to go to school. Sunny had different ideas. When they realized they would get to tell everyone about the fire, they finally let Sunny push them out the door and went on their way.

  Sunny was dusting her father’s desk—no, it was her desk now—when Tom came to the door carrying a black lump in his hand.

  “I need to talk to you about the fire,” he said bluntly.

  She stepped back from the door and motioned him in. “What’s that you’ve got?”

  “That’s what I came to tell you. It’s what’s left of a lantern after the fire got through with it.”

  “Yes?”

  Tom shuffled his feet and looked away. “You know we always keep a lantern in the tack room.”

  “Sure. Even in the daytime it’s dark back there.”

  “Right. And we keep—kept—one on that nail by the front door.”

  Sunny nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

  “Those are the only two lanterns we ever keep out there. We found what was left of them, right where they should have been. Then we found this one. It was in the back, across from the tackroom, where we first saw the flames.”

  A feeling of dread rolled over Sunny. “What does it mean, Tom?”

  “It means,” Ash said as he wheeled himself into the room, “that either one of your men was incredibly careless to leave a burning lantern untended in the barn, or the fire was deliberately set.”

  Bewildered, she looked from Ash to Tom.

  “None of our men was in the barn after dark last night,” Tom said. “I checked.”

  The two men shared a look loaded with meaning that Sunny didn’t fully understand. What she did understand was that they were both saying the fire was deliberately set. “Who…why would anyone…”

  “I’m not good for much as long as I’m in this chair,” Ash told Tom. “You’ll need to make sure someone stays around the house at all times. Someone who can take care of himself.”

  Tom nodded. “Figured as much.”

  “Nobody seriously hurt?”

  “A few blisters is all,” Tom answered.

  “What about the horses?” Ash wanted to know.

  “They all made it out.”

  “Tack?”

  “We were able to get most of it out in time.” Tom’s lips suddenly twitched. “Did lose one saddle, though.”

  Ash waved a hand. “If one’s all you lost, you’re damn lucky.”

  Tom grinned and shook his head. “Sure was a shame about that one, though.” He glanced at Sunny, his eyes laughing. “It was Miss Sunny’s side saddle.”

  Sunny burst out laughing. “Oh, Tom! If you had to lose one, you sure picked the best one! You know I hated that thing.”

  Tom chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his hat to her and headed for
the door.

  “Wilson,” Ash called.

  Tom stopped and faced him.

  “What I said last night…I was out of line.”

  Tom nodded. “You were.” Then he shook his head and gave him a crooked grin, his gaze darting to Sunny and back. “And we were stupid.”

  Before Tom made it out the door Sunny planted her fists on her hips. “And neither one of you is going to tell me what to do.”

  The two men shared another look. This one she didn’t like at all. It spoke of collusion and conspiracy between them. And trouble for her.

  Tom closed the door firmly behind him. His boots still echoed on the front porch when Sunny turned on Ash and pointed a finger at his chest. “Now look here—”

  “It was Baxter,” Ash said.

  “What?”

  “The fire. It was Baxter’s doing.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Mayor Baxter wouldn’t resort to arson. For heaven’s sake, I made it clear to him yesterday that he’d get his money.”

  “Yesterday?” Ash’s eyes took fire. “Ian Baxter was here yesterday and you didn’t say anything?”

  Her hands flew back to her hips. “You were asleep. It was none of your business anyway.”

  “Did he threaten you?” Ash demanded.

  Sunny drew back, astonished by his harsh tone. “Of course not! He simply made me an offer, which I politely refused. When I told him he’d get his money after the cattle are sold, he didn’t even argue.”

  “An offer? On the ranch?”

  “Not…exactly.”

  “What, exactly.”

  His attitude irked the answer out of her. “If you must know, it was an offer of marriage.” She could have bitten her tongue off.

  “What?!”

  She’d had enough. She marched past him, but he caught her by the arm before she could get away.

  “Sunny.”

  “You don’t have to make it sound like a man would have to be out of his mind to propose to me.”

  “Sunny, what did you tell him?”

  “That’s none of your business.” She tried to jerk her arm away. It was impossible.

  Ash’s whole face turned to stone and she thought for one wild moment he was going to come right up out of that chair. “What did you tell him, dammit!”