Ethan moaned and pulled her tightly against him.
She wrapped her arms around his back and slid her hands beneath the waist of his trousers, filling her palms momentarily with the firm swells of his buttocks, then pushing the pants from his hips.
Obviously impatient and on the brink of losing any aspect of control, Ethan broke free and stepped from the last remaining barrier of clothing and drew Lettie tightly against him.
She reveled in the sensation of flesh against flesh, hardness to softness, rough to smooth. When Ethan took her weight and pressed her down upon the bunk, she willingly surrendered, her arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.
His hand swept down her body from shoulder to thigh, then back again before he leaned toward her for a hungry kiss. Though they had only been separated for a handful of hours, the passion flared between them as if they hadn’t touched in years.
Straddling her hips, Ethan knelt above her, gazing down at the uneven rise and fall of her chest and the hectic flush of her skin. Slipping his hands beneath her shoulders, he drew her toward him and placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth, then the hollow of her ear. Her head arched back as his lips continued their tender torment down the line of her throat to the hollow of her collarbone. When his tongue flicked out to graze the tender skin, she clutched at his arms as he slowly lowered her against the ticking, trailing a moist path down to the hollow between her ribs.
For long, aching moments, he explored her with loving hands and gentle kisses. Each inch of her body seemed to pulse to life as he savored the softness of her skin and the womanly strength of her body. Soon her flesh seemed on fire and her hands clenched into the muscles of his shoulders, sifting through the damp curls of his hair.
Then she forced him to look up at her.
He must have read the overwhelming need within her, because he finally heeded the insistent urgings of her hands and settled between her legs.
Her knees bent and she shifted against him, showing him how ready she’d become for his ultimate possession.
His eyes flared and his hips nudged against her own in a tormenting fashion, but he refused to take her.
She made soft mewling sounds deep within her throat. Her pulse pounded. But still he hesitated.
She felt him shift more completely above her. With one lithe movement, he could enter her. But he paused instead and framed her head with his palms, his fingers tangling into her hair. “I love you, Lettie McGuire,” he whispered fiercely. “No matter what happens, never forget how much I loved you.”
She frowned at his use of the past tense, but then he was moving against her, preparing her.
Covering her mouth with his own, Ethan thrust within her, filling her completely with his strength, his warmth. Lettie arched against him, gasping at the instantaneous pleasure that began to swell within her as he withdrew, then moved within her again.
When his hands slipped beneath her hips, tipping her slightly, she moaned, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly against her as if she could absorb him into every pore of her being. Her legs moved to hold him close as she and Ethan strove for release.
This time there was a difference to their embrace—a shimmering expectancy—as if, now that her body knew of the pleasure that would follow, it waited for something more. Something wonderful. Her muscles seemed to grow tight and the aching became almost unbearable. Then, without warning, her very soul seemed to shatter into a million pieces.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Lettie thought she saw every color of the rainbow, a shower of sparks. Pleasure flooded her with a swiftness that was nearly unbearable. Then her body shuddered, and she tightly grasped the man who held her.
Wrapping her arms around his back, Lettie whispered, “I love you, Ethan. I love you.”
As if her words were his undoing, he thrust against her, and she felt his warmth spilling into her womb.
Lettie held Ethan as the storm of sensation roiled within them, then slowly dissipated into the velvet darkness. Though it seemed impossible, her love for this man blossomed even more, warming her like a deepseated fire in her breast. He had become a part of her heart. A part of her soul. And she didn’t know how she could ever learn to live without him.
His head lifted. His eyes burned into her own. When he lifted a hand to touch her, she shivered beneath the exquisite gentleness he displayed.
“I love you, Lettie McGuire,” he whispered.
She swallowed beneath the tightness that gathered in her throat, and because there had been a glint of sadness deep in his eyes, the almost imperceptible sheen of desperation, she hugged him closer to her warmth.
They made love again in the ruby glow of sunset. And this time, their caresses were long and slow, each moment savored and held to its last possible moment. Then, as they caught their breath, Ethan drew Lettie more securely into the circle of his arms and pressed a kiss against the top of her head. As the last bars of color slipped across the floor and gave way to darkness, the two of them talked, laughed, made plans.
Lettie knew that each word spoken was for her benefit alone. She knew Ethan was simply trying to reassure her, trying to take her mind away from his present predicament.
But as they spoke of wishes, and dreams, and promises of the future, her fingers curled tighter around the solid flesh at his waist, and inside, she became more desperate and unsure.
Ethan reached for her again as the rosy light of dusk filtered through the windows high above them. There was a sadness to their caresses and a note of panic. And afterward, Lettie found herself making promises she knew she could never keep.
“You could live with my mother in Chicago,” Ethan murmured in the darkness, his hand moving back and forth across the curve of her shoulder. “You’d like it there. You could see the theater and the opera. The lending library is just a short ride away. And you could write your poems and publish them under your real name, so everyone will be shocked by your audacity.”
Lettie nodded, afraid to speak for fear he would hear the thick tears clogging her throat.
“Take your mother with you. She doesn’t belong in a boardinghouse. She should have someone waiting on her rather than the other way around.”
Once again, Lettie nodded.
“There will be plenty of money set aside for you.”
“No, Ethan.”
“Yes,” he stated firmly, his grip tightening. “It’s honest money. Some inherited, some earned. Promise me you’ll use it.”
“Ethan, I—”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
Silence sifted between them for a moment, filled with the distant creak of the crickets. Ethan’s hand stilled. When he spoke, his voice was low and firm.
“When they come for me, I don’t want you to be here.”
“Ethan, no.”
“I want you to go home. And I want you to stay there.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“Promise me, Lettie.”
“No.”
She glanced up to see his eyes squeezed closed in the darkness. “Please, Lettie. When they come to take me away, I need to know you’re safe. Let me go knowing you’re with people who care for you and who will protect you.”
Lettie’s heart nearly cracked in her chest when she heard the way Ethan’s voice faltered.
“I lived part of my life like a fool, Lettie. At least let me do something with dignity.”
When his eyes blinked open, Lettie saw the faint shimmer of tears, and she realized this quiet, fierce man was just as terrified of the future as she. Knowing that the only thing she could offer him was peace of mind, she whispered, “I promise.”
Gerald Stone moved through the smoky warmth of the Mercury Saloon and sat in the empty chair next to Judge Krupp. “The files weren’t there.” As he spoke, he kept his voice low, his manner casual, so that he would melt into the crowd. Otherwise, someone was bound to notice that he’d been spending a great deal of time outside his o
wn jurisdiction.
Judge Krupp glanced up from his game of solitaire and stabbed him with a disbelieving gaze. “What do you mean, they weren’t there?”
“I broke into Jeb Clark’s office and rifled his desk, went through all of the files, every box, every envelope. His personal records weren’t there.”
The judge swore fiercely to himself. “Where could he have put them?”
“I don’t know, but if they fall into the wrong hands, we’re all in deep trouble.”
Once again, the judge swore. “Jeb had records on nearly all of us. Not only documented lists of Star business, but notes on some of our illegal activities as well. If that information leaks into the community, they’ll have a lynch mob chasing us with blood in their eyes.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Just let me think a minute!” The judge frowned in concentration, a slow, dawning certainty spreading over his features. “Damn, it’s been staring at us all this time.”
Stone’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”
“Grey. Who else would Clark have entrusted with the papers?”
Stone shook his head. “If Jacob Grey had known you were taking bribes and using the Star as your highly paid assassination team, he wouldn’t have joined the board of governors.”
Krupp turned to face him. “Unless he didn’t receive the information until later.”
“You’re stretching with that theory.”
“What did Jacob say to you when you made a few well-phrased threats if he didn’t follow orders?”
“Only that he’d reveal the network of the Star to…” Stone’s words trailed off. “Damn,” he whispered to himself. “We haven’t given him that information yet. He only has a list of his own battalion.”
Krupp’s jaw hardened, and his eyes narrowed against the sting of smoke hanging low over the tables.
“Kill him.”
“When?”
“Just before dawn. We still have some dynamite left from the train robbery. Set the charge around the foundation of the jailhouse. Use enough to level the whole building. I don’t want any corpses reviving from the dead this time.”
Gerald Stone’s lips eased into a smile. “Yes, sir.”
“Then I want you to watch his family. If those papers aren’t in Grey’s office, his family will lead you to their hiding place.”
Stone nodded and reached over to take a card from the pile. With a soft chuckle of delight, he threw it onto the table.
It was the ace of spades.
Chapter 22
Dawn had not yet arrived when Gerald Stone eased his horse toward the trees along the creek line. As he drew nearer, Krupp straightened in his saddle.
“Well?”
“There’s enough dynamite set against the foundations at the back of the jailhouse to blow the whole building to kingdom come.”
“And the crowd of men?”
“Most of them went home about an hour or two ago. I had one of my men lure the rest of them into the Mercury Saloon for a commiserating drink.
“You’re sure? I don’t want any witnesses cropping up. From now on, I won’t tolerate any mistakes.”
“Now see here, Krupp!” Stone snapped. “I wasn’t the one who created this mess in the first place. But I’ll clean it up, just like I always do.”
Krupp settled into a seething silence. “I want the charge detonated within the hour.”
Stone rubbed the side of his nose with his finger. “We’ve got a little problem there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Jacob Grey hasn’t been to the office since early this morning.”
Krupp swore. “Dammit! Where’s he been?”
“How the hell should I know? I couldn’t go storming in and ask, now could I?”
Krupp’s features settled into a scowl of impatience and fury. “Keep a watch on the jailhouse. As soon as he makes an appearance, I want that charge exploded.”
Stone touched his fingers to the brim of his hat. “Yes, sir,” he murmured sarcastically, before urging his horse back toward town.
Jacob struggled against the ropes that bound him and finally pulled free. For hours, he’d been straining at the bindings, a fury building within him with each passing minute. He had no doubts why the Beasleys had done this to him. And he had no doubts as to who had put them up to it, either.
Damn, damn, damn. They had no idea what they’d done.
Swearing again, he threw the cords aside and quickly untied the bindings around his feet. Then, lunging toward the other room, he gathered his revolver and rifle and stormed into the weak light of dawn.
When Jacob stepped through the alley onto the empty boardwalk, he felt a shiver of unease. Only hours before, there had been a dozen or so men watching the jail with haunted eyes. Now the street was empty. Still.
Taking a deep breath of the heavy air, Jacob fought the tension rising within him. Now was the time to make his move. If nothing else, his frustrating night had forced him to think and filled him with a calm certainty about what needed to be done.
Taking another ragged breath, he forced the tense set of his jaw to ease. By nightfall, this would all be over. One way or another.
That thought seemed to fill him with a certain amount of calm; yet when he opened the door and found his office being guarded by two elderly women armed with rifles, he growled in fury and ordered them to return to the boardinghouse.
“Jacob!”
“Ladies, if you don’t leave, here and now, I will arrest you on the spot!”
Alma and Amelia glanced at each other, then at Jacob’s furious scowl, and surrendered their weapons.
“Where’s Rusty?” he snapped.
Amelia shot Alma a guilty glance, then sidled toward the door to the cellar, pushed aside the crate, and slowly pulled it open.
“Dammit all to hell!” Jacob blurted when he saw his deputy lying on the steps. He was trussed up like a Christmas goose, his face as red as his hair.
“Ladies, I would advise you to leave.” When they opened their mouths, he shouted, “Now! Before I forget that my mama taught me how to treat my elders.”
Gathering their things, they reluctantly began to walk home. Within moments, Jacob had released his deputy and was storming into the cellblock.
Lettie started, pulling the quilt tightly against her breasts when the door slammed open. Pushing away from Ethan’s chest, she whirled to confront the intruder.
“Jacob!”
Her brother didn’t speak. He merely stared at her with eyes that were dark and furious.
“Go home, Lettie,” he stated slowly.
“No.”
“Go home!”
His voice was so harsh and angry that Lettie didn’t know how to react for a moment. Before she could speak, Jacob continued. “Ethan McGuire, you’re to come with me. I have orders to transfer you to Petesville, where you will die at dusk by firing squad.”
Lettie gasped, regarding her brother in horror and barely comprehending what he was saying. But when Ethan’s arms stiffened instinctively around her waist, she lashed out. “You can’t do that! He hasn’t done anything. He’s been with me all this time. He hasn’t done anything wrong!”
“Rusty!”
The carrot-haired deputy stepped forward.
“See to it that my sister is taken home. Now.”
When the deputy moved to take her, Lettie tried to fight him, although she was covered by nothing but a blanket. But Ethan grasped her arms and forced her to look at him. His eyes were warm and clear. Like an azure sky.
“You promised me, Lettie,” he whispered, so that only she could hear.
Her eyes filled with tears. “Nooo.”
“Lettie, you promised.”
She tried to control the emotions raging inside of her.
“I love you, Lettie. Please—please—don’t make this harder for me.”
She gazed up at his features, and her heart seemed to twist inside. Ethan had
given up hope.
“Ethan,” she moaned.
“We knew this was coming. We knew this would happen.”
Her fingers tightened, digging into his skin. “There has to be something we can do.”
But Ethan shook his head. “It’s over, Lettie.” His hands slipped deeper into her hair, holding her steady so that she couldn’t escape the stark finality of his expression. “It’s over.”
She shivered and slowly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, needing to absorb the vitality of the man she had grown to love so much. His arms wrapped around her waist, but his embrace was that of a friend and not a lover.
He was already beginning to distance himself in an effort to make the parting easier to bear.
“I love you, Ethan,” she whispered, pressing her lips against the underside of his jaw.
She felt him take a shuddering breath. When he spoke, his voice was slightly husky. “Remember your promises, Lettie. You’re to become a great poet some day.”
She nodded against his shoulder.
“You’ll stay with my family for a while. You and your mother. You’ll see all the theater and opera and poetry readings any human being can stand.”
She sniffed.
He drew back and tipped her chin up. “And you’ll be happy. Please promise me you’ll be happy.”
She couldn’t speak.
“Promise me, Lettie.”
Her throat tightened to the point where she could barely breathe, but she whispered, “I promise.”
“And you’ll marry again.”
She balked, but when she saw the desperation in his eyes, she willingly lied to him. “Yes.” Her voice was low and rough.
The hand that lifted to her cheek trembled, ever so slightly. “Kiss me? Just once more?”
Their lips met gently, tenderly, sealing their promises of forever that had not even managed to live until morning’s light. Then Jacob stepped forward, threw another scratchy blanket around her shoulders, and took her by the elbow, dragging her out of the cell.
“See that she dresses, then take her home, Rusty,” he ordered tightly, shoving her in the direction of his deputy.
Silken Dreams Page 32
