Moon Racer

by Constance O'Banyon

  "Abby," he whispered. "You have driven me crazy since the moment you came swinging out of that tree at me."

  She was too honest to deny what was happening between them. "Yes," she admitted in a velvet-soft voice. "I know."

  Her blood was singing through her veins, and she could feel her heart pounding fiercely. He held her so tightly she could feel his body tremble and swell with his need.

  Her lips quivered, and she could not utter a word as his mouth crossed her jawline and lightly caressed her lips, not lingering long enough for a kiss, but long enough to make her want more.

  Jonah shifted his weight and nudged her legs apart, fitting his hardness between her thighs. His hand slid up her arm, and he heard her uneven breath against his ear.

  His heart was slamming as if it would break out of his chest. He cradled her head against his shoulder. She had tapped into something primitive and possessive within him, and yet he felt overwhelming tenderness that made him want to protect her. He held her to him for a moment, filling his soul with her sweetness-yet knowing he must let her go.

  "I didn't mean for this to happen," he said in a hoarse voice. "I can't explain it."

  She choked on her reply. "I know."

  He raised her chin and studied her face, tracing her mouth with a lover's touch. He wanted to kiss the dimple in her cheek and to loosen her hair from its confines. His hand slid up her ribs, but he forced himself to stop before he touched the tempting swell of her breasts.

  "We had better go," he said regretfully, still unwilling to loosen his hold on her.

  "Yes," she said thickly, pushing lightly against his chest and feeling him step away from her. "As it is, it will be nearly dark when we get home."

  He took her hand and held it for a moment. "Abby, I'm sorry for what just happened between us. I went too far." He was struggling for the right words. "I hope you will forgive me."

  "It was nothing." Abby didn't want him to be sorry, and she didn't want to forget what had just passed between them. For a brief moment they had shared something fragile and wonderful. She had felt warmth in him, and he had touched her heart in a way that no one else ever had.

  Now the ice-blue eyes she looked into held no warmth. "I... we should leave now, Major."

  He nodded. "We'll have to ride double."

  She quivered, and her pulse quickened at the thought of being that close to him again. But she had no choice unless she wanted to walk back to the ranch. Her breathing became shallow as she approached his horse. She tried to distract herself by contemplating his McClellan cavalry saddle-it had no saddle horn, and it wasn't as deep as the western saddles she preferred.

  Jonah felt her hesitation, so he gripped her waist and lifted her onto the saddle. He brushed against her as he climbed on behind; then his arms came around her when he gathered the reins.

  She was in his arms again, and she thought her heart would burst free of her body. She felt the hard wall of his chest against her back, and she could feel the intake of every breath he took. Her head drifted backward to rest against his shoulder, and the world seemed to shift around her.

  Abby's eyes closed, and she was enveloped by his masculinity. She was puzzled by new and unwelcome sensations. How could the one man she had disliked on sight be the first man to bring out such feelings in her?

  There could be no future for her and Jonah. He would marry the woman in Philadelphia who was probably of his class and breeding. She bit her trembling lip. Probably every female who came in contact with him felt the same overpowering attraction that she had, and the same devastating hopelessness.

  Abby straightened her spine and pulled away, trying not to think about him in that way. Today she had experienced a new awareness of her own body. She had a consciousness of what it felt like to be touched by a man-the memory of his lips brushing hers was so keen that it ripped her apart inside. She wanted him to press her to his body and do all the things a man-did to .a woman.

  Her transformation from child to woman had been a painful one.

  "Are you comfortable?" he asked against her ear.

  "Yes, thank you," she answered, barely able to find her voice.

  He slowed his horse to let it rest, since it was carrying double.

  "It's all right if you relax against me. There is no need to keep yourself so stiff."

  Her head was against his chest but she did not relax-if anything she was more rigid than ever.

  His mouth touched her ear, and he whispered, "You haven't been this near a man before, have you?"

  She could not speak, so she shook her head.

  "It's all right, Abby," he assured her. "You are safe with me."

  Her eyes drifted shut as his thighs pressed against her.

  "Abb" Y.

  "Yes."

  "I really won't hurt you."

  Hurt her-her heart-was having to pump twice as hard just to keep up with the blood that flowed through her body. "I know."

  They both fell silent.

  Jonah did not understand how he had almost lost control, something that had never happened to him before. He had never felt such a deep yearning for any woman, not even Patricia. In spite of Abby's unconventional behavior, he now considered her the most feminine woman he had ever met. She fit perfectly in his arms, as if she belonged there. A powerful craving tore at him, and he wanted to touch his mouth to those sweet lips. He wanted to teach her what it felt like to be a woman-his woman.

  He mentally shook himself. He must be out of his mind-he was supposed to be her brother's friend.

  Quince trusted him with Abby.

  Hoping to guide his mind back to sanity, he attempted to conjure up a mental picture of Patricia. But his mind was locked on the green-eyed minx who probably wanted nothing more than to get off his horse and as far away from him as possible.

  "Could we hurry?" she asked, -proving his conjecture and straightening away from him.

  He nudged the horse faster with the heels of his boots. She had stormed into his world and turned it upside down.

  When they reached the house, Brent was just leading his horse out of the barn. When he saw them, his frown eased into an expression of relief

  "I was just going to look for you. When Moon Racer came back riderless, I knew something had happened. Are you all right, Abby?"

  Jonah lifted her down, and she went into Brent's arms. "Someone shot at us, and the mustangs are gone!"

  Brent turned to Curly. "Round up everyone who can ride and send someone for Quince. I'll want to leave within the hour." He looked at his sister. "Abby, I want you to get in the house. If someone is shooting at us, I don't want you in the way."

  Usually Abby would have argued the point, but she merely nodded. She looked at Jonah. "Thank you for what you did today."

  Before he could answer, she had turned and walked swiftly toward the house.

  "Brent," Jonah said, "whoever it was deliberately shot at your sister."

  Brent's jaw tightened. "Then he's a dead man if I find him."

  Edmund closed the front door and hung his hat on the hatrack in the entryway. He sorted through the mail on the hall table and saw nothing interesting there.

  The house was eerily silent because it was Hilda's day off. She had likely left a cold dinner for him, but he wasn't hungry. He wanted to go over his ledger again and see just how much money Jack Hunter and his brood owed him.

  Jack was so gullible, it was easy to maneuver him into spending money he couldn't afford, thus helping Edmund along with his plans to bankrupt the Half-Moon. Jack's ignorance and naivete only proved what Edmund had known all along-he was superior to Jack in every aspect. His real problem had been Brent, who was shrewd and not so easily fooled. And now there was Quince to contend with as well. He'd outsmart them all-the deed to the Half-Moon was almost within his-

  "I always wanted to live in a house like this."

  Edmund was startled by the voice and turned to see a man sitting in his desk chair, his muddy boots propped on
the oak surface of his desk.

  -Kane had a malevolent air about him, and seemed to contaminate the atmosphere around him. His black eyes caught the lamplight and were glowing like red coals. There wasn't anything Kane wouldn't do for money, and that made him invaluable to Edmund. However, Edmund didn't want anyone to think they were on friendly termshe had stressed many times that Kane would not be welcome in his home.

  "What in the hell are you doing here?" His face was reddened by the anger that fired his blood. "I don't want you here!"

  Kane swung his legs to the floor and shrugged. "I thought you might like to know the job's done. I drove the Hunters' mustangs to Echo Canyon like you wanted. I also took some scattered shots at the Hunter gal."

  Edmund stalked across the space that divided him from the swarthy bastard and yanked him to his feet. "If you ever so much as look in Abby Hunter's direction, or go anywhere near her, or do anything like that again, it'll be the last thing you ever do!"

  Kane laughed unpleasantly. "I think the day will come when we are going to have a serious disagreement. But," he said, shrugging, "this is not that day. And by the way, you needn't worry about Abby Hunter. That handsome young officer is looking out for her. In fact, I probably did that officer a favor. When I watched them eat their lunch, neither of them seemed to be having a good time. But when I shot at that little gal's horse, he charged to her rescue and became very protective of her. He had to get real close to her to do that. I bet you couldn't have pushed a straw between the two of them."

  "I could kill you!" Edmund's face grew even redder, and his rage was almost out of control. Having difficulty catching his breath, he dropped down on a chair. "If you do anything like that again, I will kill you."

  "I don't think so." Kane laughed, and the sound of it was pure evil. "How does it feel to be old, and to realize that pretty little thing won't have you? She is surely sweet, but you'll never have that sweetness." His smile deepened the lines in his jaw. "But... that handsome young officer probably will."

  "You bastard!"

  Kane looked pensive for a moment, and then said icily, "You are probably right -I don't think my mother knew who my father was. If I am a bastard, that makes me dangerous-so don't ever push me too far."

  "Get out! You have let the Hunter bunch check you at every move. If this one doesn't work out, you're through, Kane."

  Kane's black eyes narrowed, and he cast Edmund a look so dark it made him shiver. "Not until I have all the money you owe me."

  Edmund stood up, grasping the back of the chair. "We agreed you would sell the mustangs and keep the money you got for them, and I would deposit the rest in the account I set up for you."

  Kane's smile did not touch his lips. "I wonder what the good people of this town would do if they knew about some of your dealings?"

  Edmund stared at' him, and then laughed aloud. "And you are going to tell them? I don't think anyone would take your word against mine. You don't frighten me, Kane. You'll do what I say, when I say it."

  Kane shrugged. "For the moment, my interests are tied to yours." He paused with his hand on the door. "You are lucky that I don't like the Hunters."

  "Yeah," Edmund said, feeling satisfaction stir in him. "It still sticks in your craw that Quince Hunter stopped you from taking his herd of mustangs, and you got all your men killed in that little struggle. They also rounded up the herd when you scattered them, didn't they?"

  "Don't push, banker." Though spoken barely above a whisper, the warning was clear.

  Edmund looked into cold black eyes and knew he'd struck a nerve, so he pushed further. "Isn't it strange how many of your men end up dead? I wonder if the ones you hired this time know to watch their backs?"

  Kane took a step toward Edmund, reconsidered, and paused. "I know to watch my back with you, banker."

  "That very well may be-but you are safe as long as I need you," Edmund said quietly, almost too quietly. "What you need to remember most is to stay away from Abby Hunter."

  Kane touched the brim of his hat and smiled. "She's not the kind of woman I crave-she's too tame for me. But the major, he seems to like her just fine." He walked out of the room with Edmund following behind. "I'll be seeing you."

  "Not that way," Edmund said. "Leave the back way, and don't let anyone see you go. And don't ever come here again. If I need you, I'll find you."

  Kane's laughter followed him out the back door. When he had gone, Edmund sank down on a chair, his hands trembling. He thought of what Kane had said about Abby and that uppity major. Could Abby be interested in the man?

  He had to find out, and there would be hell to pay if Major Tremain got in the way of what he wanted.

  Abby hadn't been able to sleep for worrying about the stolen mustangs. Just before sunrise she tossed the covers aside and slid out of bed. Most of the men would be with her brothers, so she would help them out by tending the stock.

  It took her only a few minutes to dress and braid her hair. She heard Frances stirring in the kitchen as she walked through the house, not wanting any breakfast. When she stepped off the porch, she stared worriedly at the clouds that hung low in the slate-gray sky. It would probably rain before the morning was over, and that wouldn't help her brothers track the mustangs.

  When she reached the barn it was dark inside, so she lit a lantern and went to pump water. After the horses had been watered, she took the pitchfork off the hook and, with practiced aim, tossed the right amount of hay to each horse.

  She had reached the last stall when she heard someone at the front of the barn. When she caught a glimpse of a blue uniform, she thought it might be Jonah. But when the cavalry trooper stepped into the lamplight, he was a stranger to her.

  "Ma'am," he said, touching his flat-brimmed hat. "I'm Private Davies, and I was sent to get Major Tremain."

  She paused and leaned her cheek on the handle of the pitchfork. "He was here, but he rode out with my brothers. I can't tell you when to expect him back." She went on with her work and tossed hay over the last stall. "If you will wait until I am finished, Frances will give you breakfast."

  Davies grinned, his eyes following her graceful movements as she worked. "I don't mind waiting."

  Jonah and the men of the Half-Moon Ranch had been out all night attempting to follow a cold trail. There was not a tracker anywhere better than Quince, and even he had lost the trail when they came to the limestone hills. Whoever had taken the mustangs certainly knew what they were doing.

  Quince and Brent exchanged weary glances. They both knew that it was going to be nearly impossible to meet the army contract unless they rounded up more mustangs, and there wasn't time for that.

  It was a bedraggled-looking group who gave up the chase and returned home just after dawn. Everyone went in different directions, each hoping to get a few hours of sleep.

  Jonah was walking in-the direction of the house when he saw the horse with the U.S.Army brand. He turned to look at the barn and, seeing the lantern glow, hurried in that direction.

  Abby was aware that the private was watching her, but she chose to ignore him. He had a look in his eyes that spelled trouble for someone-for her.

  "You look like you know what you're doing. I never saw a girl wearing britches and doing that kind of work afore."

  "Is that so?"

  He grinned and moved closer to her, lifting her braid and working it through his fingers. "You ever do anything fun in the hay-anything with a man who knows what he's doing?"

  She turned to him, and at the same time brought the prongs of the pitchfork within inches of his chest. "If you think I won't use this, you are sadly mistaken. Let go of my hair-now!"

  He dropped her braid and stepped back, coming up against the stall gate, unable to move any farther away. "I was only funning. I wouldn't of done anything unless you'd of agreed to it."

  The pitchfork moved up to his neck, and she rested the sharp points against his throat. "Let's just say I don't like your idea of fun-I don't find you humorous a
t all."

  Abby heard the crunch of boots and glanced into Jonah's glacier-blue eyes. He seemed to be assessing the situation before he stepped forward to take the pitchfork from her, throwing it harmlessly to the ground.

  "Have you nothing better to do than to terrorize my men?" Jonah said bitingly.

  "Just keep him away-from me." Abby was furious at the trooper for taking such liberties with her, but angrier with Jonah because he was defending the man.

  She shoved past him and stopped to glare at Private Davies. "Never set foot on the Half-Moon again. If I see you here, I will finish what I started."

  Jonah watched her stalk out of the barn before he turned his attention to the private. "What did you say to her?" Jonah demanded, ready to disembowel the private. Now that he'd had a moment to think, he knew Abby would not attack anyone without a reason.

  He snapped to attention. "I... just... implied that I'd like to... that... do something in the hay. Maybe I touched her hair a bit, sir."

  Jonah grabbed Davies by the shirtfront and jerked him forward, his jaw muscles taut with anger. "You just bought yourself more trouble than you can handle, trooper. You are never to go near Miss Hunter again, or even speak to her. Is that clear, soldier?"

  "Yes, sir. But she's so pretty she got my blood to boiling."

  "Cool down, mister. I will deal with you later. But for now, do you have a message for me?"

  Davies knew he was in real trouble when he saw the anger brewing in the major's eyes. Yep, trouble was coming his way, all right, but Major Tremain would tend to business first. "Yes, sir. Sergeant MacDougall said I was to tell you there's a ranger in town, sent to help... you, sir."

  Jonah released him, and he fell backward, catching himself on a railing to break his fall.