Arizona Embrace

by Leigh Greenwood

  “Are you sure you aren’t a gypsy?”

  Victoria tried to laugh, but she didn’t have the energy.

  “Men think they’re such mysterious creatures, but they’re all alike. A few variations here and there.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “My mother died when I was born. My life was dominated by my father and my four uncles. When Daddy bought the Demon D, I was surrounded by more men. When I married Jeb, I was surrounded by still more. Then I came to Arizona. Still more men. You’re all alike,” she mumbled. “Every one of you. No feeling or understanding. Just a noisy show.”

  It was well after nightfall when Trinity drew up to his camp. It had been more than a week since he had cached supplies here. He hoped no one had found them. He couldn’t afford the loss of time to go into town for more. Nor did he want to run the risk of someone recognizing Victoria. Quite a few men might be tempted to try to take Victoria from him for Judge Blazer’s thousand dollar reward. He didn’t want a fight if he could avoid it.

  He looked down at Victoria, so exhausted she didn’t know he rode next to her, his arm around her waist holding her in the saddle. It was just as well. She’d probably claw his face again. It didn’t surprise him Jeb Blazer hadn’t been able to handle her. It would take a very strong man to tame this woman. And an even stronger one to capture her heart without caging her spirit. She was such a vital, passionate creature, so full of life. It felt strange to look at her now, a spent force garnering energy for the next explosion. How could anyone have believed she would be happy married to Jeb Blazer?

  From all he’d been able to learn, Jeb had been a completely selfish young man, too preoccupied with his own pleasure to realize his youthful wife might have needs of her own. Even now, as she leaned against Trinity, she created a bonfire in his loins.

  She must have had a similar effect on Buc. Even though he was overprotective, Buc must have been aware of her underlying sensuality. Maybe he was so protective because in the course of five years, passion had overcome protectiveness.

  At least once.

  The thought of Buc and Victoria in a passionate embrace caused such a surge of anger to rush through Trinity he nearly pulled her from the saddle. The force of his reaction stunned him. Why should he feel such anger? She wasn’t his woman.

  But he wanted her to be. Riding next to her, holding her close, feeling the mound of her breast against his hand, inhaling the fragrance of her hair, he couldn’t think of anything else. Neither her past nor her future.

  He couldn’t help but wonder if she would respond to his touch as passionately as she responded to life. Of course she couldn’t feel anything but anger and rage for the man who had abducted her. She certainly couldn’t believe he could feel anything for her except indifference. She would be certain everything else was a lie.

  Would she have responded differently if he hadn’t kidnapped her? Could her response to him on the mountain have been merely a prelude to the passion she would have been willing to share with him later?

  How could any woman who had known the pleasures to be found in a man’s arms deny herself for five years? He couldn’t have starved his body for that long. He thought of the faceless women with whom he had shared a fleeting passion. He wouldn’t know them again. He didn’t want to know them. They came together because each had something the other needed. They got what they came for, and that was the end of it.

  Was that the way Victoria felt? He didn’t know, but he doubted it. Maybe she could sleep with Buc because she thought she loved him, but he didn’t believe she could sleep with just anybody. She felt things too intensely. Not like him. He didn’t feel anything at all. He hadn’t for years.

  Why an you lying to yourself? You’re feeling something right now, something you’ve never felt for anybody, not even for Queenie. You felt it the first time you set eyes on Victoria. That’s why you’re holding her in the saddle. She could stay there alone. She has all day.

  He started to pull his arm away, but her warmth, her nearness, made it impossible. But it wasn’t merely the physical attraction which kept him at her side. He liked the feel of her in his arms, but he also liked the feel of his arm around her. It made him feel needed. After thirteen years of loneliness, he wanted to feel close to someone.

  There was nothing wrong with letting down his resistance just a little bit.

  Maybe he had let it down too much. Needs from deep inside him, needs he had denied for thirteen years, cried out to him. He didn’t know if he could turn them off again. Looking down at Victoria leaning into the curve of his arm, he didn’t know if he wanted to.

  Trinity dismounted. For a minute he wasn’t sure his own legs would hold him, but years of training stood him in good stead. In a matter of seconds, he started to move as easily as always. He led the horses into camp. The first thing he did was untie Victoria’s bedding from the packhorse and lay it out on the part of the ground where the pine needles and leaves were the thickest. Then he untied the ropes binding Victoria’s wrists and ankles. The raw, inflamed flesh of her wrists reproached him. He never meant to do anything like that.

  Carefully he eased her from the saddle and laid her on the blanket. She moaned when he stretched her legs out, but she didn’t move. Going to his saddle bags, he untied his bedding gear and searched inside until he found a small tin of salve. He rubbed this into the inflamed skin of each wrist. He hated to tie her up each day, but he didn’t know how else to protect her from herself. If she escaped, she’d probably die.

  She looked so pitiful lying there with her legs twisted beneath her. Trinity tried to make her more comfortable, but she only groaned. Her legs were so stiff they wouldn’t bend.

  Trinity pulled off her boots and began to knead the muscles in her calf. They were as hard as corded wood. With gentle but firm pressure he began to work the muscles, pressing hard, pressing deep to loosen the tension. Victoria groaned and tried to move away from him, but Trinity continued his ministrations.

  He shifted to the other calf. He could hardly believe anyone could become so tense just from riding. He had done it for years, and he never had more than a momentary stiffness.

  But as he worked Victoria’s muscles loose, he felt his own tighten. He became so aroused his pants got uncomfortably tight. Self-consciously, Trinity rearranged himself so he didn’t feel like he was being cut in two. Reacting like a teenager on his first date made him feel a little foolish, but he hadn’t been so aroused in years.

  He had been with many women, but he’d always gone on his way immediately afterward. He’d never been with a woman for days at a time. He’d never had the chance to discover them as people. He had never had the time, or the desire, to explore their bodies, to run his hands over every part of them, to luxuriate in their closeness. Their meetings had been urgent and over quickly.

  But something felt different this time. The feel of her skin—the curve of flesh over bone, the give of the soft spots, the hard places where her bones lay just beneath the skin—defined Victoria. Each part had its own fascination, its own allure.

  This surprised Trinity. It added a whole new dimension to his appreciation of a woman’s body.

  He turned Victoria over on her back and slowly began to knead the muscles in her slim, delicate neck; a neck too fragile to withstand the jerk of the hangman’s rope.

  Forcing that thought from his mind, Trinity’s hands moved to her shoulders. The muscles were hard as iron. Even with the insistent pressure of his fingers, it took several minutes before he could feel the tension begin to leave her shoulders.

  As the minutes passed, Trinity experienced more than just desire racing from his fingertips to every part of his body. Again, a sensual appreciation rooted in feeling close to Victoria, a feeling of sharing, of being needed rather than the bare drive for sexual gratification, coursed through him.

  He was so enthralled by this revelation he forgot what he was doing with his hands.

  He touched Victoria’s
thigh.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Move your hand.” Victoria sounded very much awake and very much aware of what Trinity was doing.

  The unexpected command caused him to jerk his hand back faster than if he’d touched a hot stove. His reaction made him angry and guilty.

  He hadn’t done anything improper, but he knew his thoughts had gone much further than simply thinking about which muscles needed to be relaxed. He had begun to think of her as a very desirable woman; if she didn’t know it, he did.

  “Did you imagine I was going to take advantage of you?” he asked, hoping his puckish grin would cover his discomfort. “You’re a very attractive woman, but I haven’t been reduced to forcing myself on helpless females.”

  “I didn’t think you had,” Victoria answered, struggling to sit up. She leaned against the pillow he had put behind her and dragged herself into a sitting position. “If other women fall over themselves as fast as I did to believe every word you say, I would rather imagine you look upon this trip as something of a vacation.”

  “You forget I’m a bounty hunter, scorned by man and beast alike.”

  “Unfortunately I can’t forget it for even a moment, but I’ve no doubt there are plenty of females who wouldn’t let that dissuade them.”

  “What an odd woman you are. One minute you accuse me of being so vile the entire human race has turned its back on me. The next you’re saying half the women in the world can’t resist me. Do you consider your own sex to be so weak minded?”

  “Yes. I used to think I was a very strong-minded, clear-headed thinker. I thought marrying Jeb and being convicted of something I didn’t do had knocked all the idealistic nonsense out of me. I guess I’m more romantic than I thought. If, after all that, I can’t separate what is from what I would like to be, I can’t expect other women, who haven’t gone through such harrowing experiences, to be any less credulous.”

  “Why do you continue to maintain your innocence?”

  “Why do you keep trying to make me believe you’re not taking me back for money?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “That’s my reason as well.”

  “But you were convicted by a jury.”

  “And you’ve been convicted by circumstantial evidence, the same kind of evidence, by the way, that convicted me.”

  “We won’t get anywhere talking about this. They didn’t ask me to decide whether or not you were guilty. They just wanted someone to bring you back.”

  “And you don’t care that you may cause an innocent woman to hang.”

  Trinity’s gaze locked with hers. “If I believed you were innocent, I’d try even harder to make sure you remained free.”

  Trinity’s eyes remained hard and unyielding, but Victoria felt an upsurge of hope. She knew by now Trinity would stick with anything he believed in, even if he had to lie and cheat to do it. He had done that to capture her. She believed he would do it to defend her.

  But was there any hope of convincing him of her innocence? Probably not. He had closed his mind to the idea. She would have to wait until Buc and her uncle showed up. It might be better if she changed her behavior. If he were just a little less vigilant, she might be able to escape while he fought them off.

  “But you’re not innocent,” Trinity continued. “Jeb’s stepbrother Kirby and Judge Blazer saw you with the gun.”

  “Kirby saw me holding the gun after he ran out of the house after he heard the shot,” Victoria said. “I noticed it on the ground after I realized Jeb was dead. I foolishly picked it up thinking it was Jeb’s gun. I thought he must have shot himself.”

  “Where did it come from if not from you?”

  “I don’t know. The killer must have tossed it there after he shot Jeb.”

  “And you didn’t hear it hit the ground?”

  “I don’t remember the gun being there when I knelt over Jeb, but it wouldn’t have mattered when it was dropped. I wouldn’t have heard it. They were having a party in the house—they always seemed to be having a party—and there was a lot of noise, music, people laughing and talking. Judge Blazer had had a dance floor set up outside. Their boots and shoes made a dreadful racket on the wood floor.”

  “You’re trying to make me believe someone shot Jeb the moment you turned your back, tossed the gun to the ground while you bent over his body, and fled without you seeing or hearing anything?”

  “I know it sounds preposterous, but I was extremely upset. I wasn’t paying much attention. I had just had a terrible argument with the man I’d married only seven days earlier.”

  “What was it about?”

  “The same thing we always argued about. All he wanted to do was get drunk and stay up all night with his friends. I could understand one or two nights, but Jeb always seemed to be going to a party, or giving one. He started having them every night after his father announced our wedding date.

  “I used to think he’d settle down after we got married and pay some attention to the ranch. His father had been hurt a few years earlier when a steer gored his horse, and he needed Jeb’s help. But when he continued to get drunk after our wedding, I realized he had never grown up. I had to try to do something, or our marriage would be over before it even started.”

  “So you killed him.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Victoria nearly shouted. There was no purpose. I still thought I could reason with him, but he shouted at me like some kind of servant. I was glad nobody heard the things he said.”

  “Somebody must have heard?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The man who killed him. He must have been close enough to hear what you said.”

  “I suppose so. I never thought of that.”

  “No wonder the jury convicted you. That story’s got more holes in it than a target after a turkey shoot. You say you were alone, but you didn’t shoot your husband. You say you don’t know where the gun came from, but you were holding it when they found you. You say no one overheard you, but you insist someone was close enough to kill your husband, throw the gun at his feet, and escape without you noticing. Would you believe that?”

  “Not if you were on trial,” Victoria snapped. But her temper soon evaporated. “I don’t suppose I would. I know it sounds impossible, but it’s true nonetheless.”

  Unaccountably Trinity found himself listening to what she said and evaluating it. If she were lying, wouldn’t she have come up with a better explanation? Even though that story had convicted her, she kept repeating it. She hadn’t changed so much as a word.

  “They held the trial right away. Judge Blazer assigned me a lawyer who didn’t want me to be found innocent. I begged them to wait until Uncle Grant could get there, but they refused. They said they sent him my letters, but Uncle Grant never received them. When he did arrive, they wouldn’t let him or his lawyer see me. Judge Blazer wouldn’t grant a motion for a new trial. He wouldn’t even grant a stay of execution long enough for them to go over the transcripts. My own father-in-law was determined to see me hang.”

  “They could have appealed to Austin.”

  “Uncle Grant started to, but Judge Blazer swore he’d hang me before they could get back. That’s when Buc broke me out of jail.”

  The coffee had nearly boiled away. There was just enough for one cup. Trinity gave it to Victoria and put on a pot for himself. He stirred the broth and added a few dried vegetables. It would be ready in about fifteen minutes.

  “How did he do it?”

  “He just walked in, took the key from the jailer, and we rode off in the middle of the night. We took the jailer with us so he couldn’t warn anyone.”

  “You mean he just walked in? Nobody stopped him?”

  “Nobody was expecting a jailbreak” Victoria said. “Buc came in sometime after midnight. He told the jailer my uncle had been taken with a bad heart spell and the doctor thought he was going to die. Since I was his only relative, he had to ask me what to do. The minute the jailer turned his back
, Buc knocked him out. Uncle Grant was waiting behind the jail with the horses. Not a soul knew I was gone until daybreak.”

  “What did the judge do?”

  “He sent a posse after us, but we were out of Texas before they found our trail. They sent some other bounty hunters after me, but Uncle Grant and Buc managed to buy them off or run them off.”

  “I’m not a bounty hunter.”

  “And I’m not a felon.”

  “I guess this is what you call a stalemate.”

  “I don’t see how you can call it a stalemate when you hold all the cards,” Victoria replied. “You may not like being called a bounty hunter, but you could change that by letting me go. I don’t like the thought of being hanged, but what I want isn’t going to change anything.”

  “The broth is ready” Trinity said, unwilling to pursue that argument. The more he talked to Victoria, the more uneasy he became. Reason told him she was guilty, but instinct whispered she might not be.

  He had always been a man to trust his instincts, but how could he trust them now? She had destroyed his objectivity. He couldn’t differentiate between what instinct told him was true and what he wanted the truth to be.

  Don’t think. Do your job. Get her to Bandera and forget her.

  But that was impossible. Traveling at her side for hours had been torture enough, holding her in his arms, touching her, running his hands over her body had completely unraveled what was left of the iron restraint he habitually practiced around women.

  In just two days on the trail, he had become intensely conscious of her presence. No, that had happened the first day he helped her with her survey. It intensified the afternoon he held her in his arms, but another element had been added, an emotion much more dangerous than mere physical attraction.

  Sympathy.

  He found himself wishing Victoria were innocent. He couldn’t believe the foolish story she told, but he wanted to believe it. He didn’t know a thing about the Judge or Jeb or Kirby, but he wanted to believe they had somehow been at fault instead of Victoria.