Moonlight Rebel

by Ferrarella, Marie

  "Yes, sir."

  Jason knew that he could stake his life on the man's word.

  "As for you —" Jason began, turning toward Krystyna.

  "As for me, I am coming with you." Her voice was quiet, her tone firm.

  He shook his head. "No, you're going with Jeremiah. It's not safe-"

  "Nothing is safe, not since I set foot on these shores. But I am growing used to that." She offered no reason for coming, didn't plead to come along. She was going, and there was no arguing with her. To do so would be a waste of time, and they both knew it.

  "You're stubborn and pigheaded," Jason told her.

  "You will grow used to that," she promised, touching his cheek. He was here and he was whole. She couldn't ask for anything more than that.

  He knew her well enough to realize that if he sent her with Jeremiah, she'd find a way to trail after him. "All right," Jason conceded. "Come."

  Krystyna smiled to herself as she began to bandage Aaron's shoulder.

  They separated soon after that, Jason heading north with Krystyna and Jeremiah taking Aaron south.

  When darkness encroached, Krystyna and Jason stopped and made camp. They lit no fire. They couldn't afford to attract any attention. But the moon was high, and it was enough for their needs.

  Jason watched as Krystyna took cold biscuits and jerky from her saddlebags. "Why did you come?"

  Did he have to ask? Didn't he know? She shrugged, handing him his share. "I could not let you die without trying to help."

  He moved closer to her. Their thighs touched. Emotions stirred within him. "Is that all?"

  "And because," she looked off into the darkness, "if you were to die, a part of me would die as well."

  "Krystyna." He reached for her.

  She looked up at him, almost like a shy child. "I would suggest you eat something." She touched his arm and noticed that he winced slightly. "You are hurt."

  "Hardly notice it at all." He took a bit of the jerky and chewed.

  She knew him too well. "You are too proud to admit that it hurts."

  "You should know about pride." He looked at her, but she pretended to be occupied with rooting a cup out of her bags. "I still don't know what happened back there on the docks, or who's responsible. How did you find out?"

  She poured a little water into his cup. They had refilled the pouches at the stream. There'd be enough to last them a day if need be. "The tavern owner saw everything. He sent one of his women to tell your father that you had been captured."

  He stared at her incredulously. "And my father sent Aaron?" It didn't seem possible.

  "No, Aaron sent Aaron." Krystyna smiled at the thought of it. "He took charge of this rather well. He has changed, your brother."

  "And why did you get involved?"

  She looked at him. "If you have to ask, I cannot explain." She shrugged, trying to bury the hurt his words created. Such an annoying man. Why did she love him so? "Besides, I know one of the officers at the camp, and I thought I could convince him to help."

  He frowned, remembering. "I see. That would be your soldier."

  She sighed, fighting to hold on to her temper. "Jason, you are a most infuriating man. I do not have a soldier." How was she to get that into his head? "Your sister is very taken with Lieutenant Lawrence and is constantly accusing me of all sorts of things—just as you are."

  He relented. "I'm not accusing you. I'm just being unreasonably jealous. How did Savannah get into this?"

  "The British were quartered at Smoke Tree while you were away. Savannah and John became . . . close." It was far more than that, she was certain, but she saw no need to pass her suspicions along to Jason at this point. "Then the British left, and you were captured."

  "Just what was it you offered John for my life?" He couldn't help his tone of voice.

  She wanted to scratch his eyes out, to hurt him the way he was hurting her. She did nothing. "I recalled his debt to me." She kept her eyes forward as she spoke, not trusting herself to look at him. "I saved his life so he owed me a life. I wanted yours. Unfortunately, his plan failed."

  "But I'm free. How . . . ?" He didn't understand.

  She smiled. "Your brother. He had me detain the general while he and Jeremiah set fire to some of the remaining buildings."

  "And the cannon fire?"

  "Jeremiah. The chaos that followed took the soldiers attention away from you. You know the rest." She found she wasn't hungry anymore and put her food away.

  "Not all of it."

  She looked up at him. He thought that he had never seen bluer eyes. No longer like the sea, they now reminded him of the sky. An endless sky, surrounding him.

  "Yes, you know it all," she said softly. She shivered. "It is getting cool. Will you share your blanket with me?"

  "My blanket." He drew her closer to him, pulling her onto his lap. "And myself." His mouth found hers as his palm lightly grazed one breast.

  The reaction was instantaneous. Lightning darted through her, and she moaned and gripped his shoulder, her body swiftly melting into his, wanting to savor all of him. Immediately. He had just been snatched free of the hangman's noose, and that heady triumph mixed with her feelings for him threw her into wild abandonment.

  He was turning her inside out, and she had never been happier. She had no more thoughts of the enemy overtaking them, no more thoughts of anything but the deep craving that began in the pit of her stomach and spread fingers of desire through her, prodding her, teasing her as she waited to be fulfilled.

  "This is like the first time," she murmured thickly as his mouth slid along the long, tempting hollow of her throat.

  "Every time is like the first time with you. You make it so," he breathed out the words, his mouth pleasuring her. He parted the shirt she wore, taking care not to tear it. His gentleness only aroused her further. Her heart beat thundered in her ears. Lowering his head, he suckled at her breast, making her burn from within as moonlight illuminated them both. Krystyna plunged her hands into his hair, pressing him closer, reveling in the sensations his hot mouth created.

  Her head fell back as her breath grew shorter and shorter. With a resurgence of strength, she eagerly tugged on his clothing, wanting to feel him, touch him, set him on fire as he had her. Within moments, they were both nude, wrapped within each other's arms.

  There was no chill in the air now as they lay back upon the blanket. She pressed herself against him, taking in the heat of his body as it burned against hers.

  As his chest rubbed against her breasts, her hips arched against his loins, the urge within her growing.

  "Take me," she whispered against his ear, her breath sending hot shivers through him. "Take me now."

  He graced the body he revered so well with open-mouthed kisses until she trembled, almost whimpering from wanting him. Jason lost himself in her sweetness until the headiness of it made everything else fade away. Containing himself no longer, he entered her, her moans filling his head. She wrapped her legs about him as he plunged deeper. He felt her grip his shoulders, clinging, murmuring things to him in the language he couldn't understand.

  "Oh God, Krystyna, Krystyna." He tried to hold back just a little, to prolong this feeling, to savor it until the day he died. But it consumed him. She consumed him. And he gladly gave himself up to that. They rode to the crest together, a blanket of stars meeting them at journey's end.

  When it was over, Krystyna opened her eyes to see Jason above her, smiling. He smoothed her hair away. "I don't know what happened or why you've changed. But I'd go through hell to keep you this way."

  She smiled in contentment, a rosy glow filtering through her. This was peace, and he had given it to her. She loved him, but it was hard to say the words aloud. "I cannot explain what — "

  He put his finger to her lips. "Shh. I want no explanations. I just want to savor the moments you're creating for me." So dear. So very dear. And she asked for nothing. That was why he wanted to give her everything. "I haven't once tol
d you that I love you."

  She shook her head. She didn't want him to feel obligated. What she gave, she gave freely. "There is no need. You-"

  "There is a need," he insisted. "I have a need. I love you, Krystyna. I've never said that to a woman before." It was important to him that she believed it. "Women have always been just nice to have in my life. I enjoyed them and then went off, leaving no hard feelings behind. Leaving no feelings behind whatsoever."

  "Even Charity?" She touched the medallion around his neck. It felt cold to her fingertips.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. "Charity was an avenue of escape, nothing more. My father was after me to marry. I thought telling him I was engaged would put him off for a while."

  He had told her all this before, but it was still hard for her to believe. "You never intended to marry Charity?"

  "I never intended to marry anyone really." Jason ran the back of his hand along her cheek and watched in fascination as her eyes closed, her lids heavy again with desire. "I never took marriage seriously. Before now."

  He placed his head in the hollow between her breasts and heard her heart begin to beat faster. Playfully, his hand dipped down between her legs, lightly touching the softness between her thighs. Gently, his fingers just barely skimming her skin, he stroked her until she stirred beneath him, aroused. He felt himself begin to grow with desire once more as he kissed the tips of her breasts, then the hollow of her throat before finding her lips again.

  "You are the devil itself, Krystyna, and I can think of nothing at all, except for wanting you."

  His hands slid beneath her buttocks as he pressed her to him once more. Krystyna came to him as willingly as before. Part of Jason believed that he had died back in jail and this was the heaven he had always sought.

  The first rays of dawn found them in each other's arms beneath the blanket he had spread for them. Her hair covered part of his chest, and she had wrapped herself about him, like a small child seeking protection.

  Jason didn't want to rouse her as he drank in the picture she made. He hadn't dreamed it. It had happened. She had been there all night, responding to his every movement, giving herself with a passion he could only marvel at. Yes, even seeking him out once in the night.

  God, but he loved her.

  He could get lost in her sweetness, in the fragrance of her body, and let the rest of the world go to hell. Nothing, not the plantation, not the war, not even his friendship for Nathan meant nearly as much to him. He did truly love her, and that made him feel like a schoolboy. Alive and in love with life. He raised himself slowly so as not to wake her, for a moment lifting the blanket to gaze at her body. He felt himself wanting her again.

  A smile crossed his lips. Heaven, if there was a heaven, would be making love to her constantly. And never growing too weak or too tired to go on.

  Her lashes fluttered as she felt a breeze pass over her. She opened her eyes and saw Jason studying her. A crimson hue spread across her cheeks.

  "After last night, I didn't think you could ever be embarrassed around me again," he chuckled.

  "I cannot help it," she murmured.

  He crooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted it so that her eyes met his. "But you shall," he promised her. "There'll be no embarrassment between us, no shame. Love cannot live with shame." It occurred to him that she had not told him she loved him.

  She didn't get a chance to answer. The sound of hoof-beats, coming from some distance away, became evident. Krystyna looked at him. Fear seized her. They'd find him.

  "Soldiers?"

  "Visitors at any rate. Hurry, get dressed." Rising to his feet quickly, he threw her the britches he'd taken from her the night before. "You're my brother, remember that."

  She nodded, grabbing her clothes. Even with the possibility of a new danger threatening them, she couldn't help herself as she looked at him pulling on his clothes. She loved the way his muscles rippled as he closed his trousers and shrugged into his shirt.

  The pounding hooves came closer, temporarily driving away any thoughts but those of survival.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Jason and Krystyna stood waiting, muskets in hand, as the riders approached. The one in front was a red-bearded, tall, stocky man who looked as if he'd be more at home behind an anvil than on top of a horse. A ragtag collection of fifteen eager-eyed men ranging from their late teens to their mid-thirties grouped about him as they reined in their horses before the two on the ground. They all stared at Jason and Krystyna, their eyes on the aimed weapons. There wasn't a red uniform amongst them.

  "Who be you?" The red-bearded man's voice boomed as he asked the question.

  "Jason McKinley." He raised his eye from the musket sight. If the men had wanted to cut them down, or capture them, they would have done so by now, he reasoned. "This is my brother, Krys." He nodded in Krystyna's direction.

  "Tories?" The man who was clearly the leader peered at them.

  From his inflection, Jason guessed that the red-bearded man had little liking for Crown sympathizers. "No." In all likelihood, he was addressing the leader of a rebel brigade. Many had sprung up, christening themselves with various names meant to inspire fear in their enemies, respect in their peers. They would join the war effort for a few months and then disband when the call from home came or the whim took them.

  "Are you?" Jason challenged. He was met with a roar of laughter.

  The big man slapped his thigh. "Ain't that a good one, Enos?" He poked the thin man on the horse next to his. "I'm Big Jim McConnell," he announced to Jason, as if he expected instant recognition. He eyed Krystyna for a moment. At a nod from Jason, she lowered her musket. "We're heading to join forces with Ethan Allen's Green Mountain Boys. You two wanna come with us?"

  "Are you heading north?" It would be a good deal safer for them to be riding with a group of men, Jason thought.

  "That's where the man is" Big Jim answered.

  "Then we'll ride along with you for a bit. We're heading north, too. The woods are infested with redcoats, and I've my brother here to think about." He dropped an arm around Krystyna's shoulder in a rough gesture of filial camaraderie. "Ma'd be terribly put out with me if anything happened to him. He's the baby of the family."

  "Enjoy the company. Enos here's getting right tiresome." Big Jim indicated that they were to ride up front with him.

  They were ready within minutes. Big Jim scratched his chest, watching them tie their provisions onto the backs of their saddles. "Mebbe we can convince you two to fight alongside of us. Way I sees it, life ain't worth the living iff n that fat King keeps his hands in our pockets."

  "You're absolutely right." Jason swung into his saddle.

  "You agree?" The man looked at Krystyna.

  "Krys here can't talk. Been like that since birth," Jason said quickly. He had no idea what sort of a voice she could use to convince the men of her gender, but he felt certain that hearing her would only arouse their suspicions.

  "Deef, too?" Big Jim cocked his head, staring at her as if she were some sort of a freak.

  Just in case she turned at the sound of any noise, Jason thought it best not to carry the charade too far. "No, he hears well enough, but he can't talk. Just makes noises."

  How many disguises will I be forced to take on in this country? she wondered. First a boy, then a mute. What would be next? But she played along. Jason, she felt, knew best.

  "We're headin' toward Fort Wayne first," Big Jim informed Jason once they were ready to ride.

  Jason pulled his horse into formation next to McConnell's bay. Krystyna rode on his other side. "Why there?"

  "Got a message from one of my scouts yesterday. Seems General Howe's men are fightin' some of our boys up yonder. We're retreatin' just enough to lead them down to the fort. The British think it's deserted." He laughed.

  "And it's not," Jason guessed.

  "Nope. Got a bunch of our soldiers waitin' on them. Me and my boys are riding to help give those damn redcoats a big
surprise when they get there." He relished the thought. "We'll give those sons of bitches the welcome of their lives, we will."

  The man on Big Jim's other side peered at Jason. "You from around here?"

  Jason nodded. "Plantation down past Norfolk. My father's Morgan McKinley."

  The man grinned, exposing two rows of crooked teeth. "He done talked at those meetings three years back. Fine man, your pa."

  So they knew him. So much the better for us, Jason thought. "Thanks."

  The man scratched his bald head. "Didn't know about his havin' a dumb kid, though."

  "We don't talk about Krys too much. Hurts Ma. She kinda went a little strange after Krys was born." He hoped that that would be the end of the matter. These men might consider themselves patriots, but he didn't want to be put in a position to test their moral mettle if they discovered that Krystyna was a woman.

  Quickly, Jason switched topics. "Have you been in this war since the beginning?" he asked Big Jim.

  He had read the man correctly. Big Jim's favorite topic was Big Jim. "You might say that. Started out by tradin' with the Dutch. But that was too tame for the likes of me. Gettin' rid of those vermin is more my style." This time, there was a nasty timbre to his laugh. Braggart or not, he wasn't a man Jason would have wanted to get on the wrong side of.

  The men made Krystyna nervous. To her, they were of the caliber of the sailors on the vessel that had brought her to these shores. What would they do if they discovered that she wasn't Jason's brother, that she wasn't a boy at all? Or if one of them found out about Jason’s money belt?

  Her worried expression caught Jason's attention.

  He guessed what was on her mind. Reaching over, he patted the hand resting on her saddle horn. "Needs reassuring. Strangers make him nervous," he explained to Big Jim. He might have saved his breath. The man was staring ahead, miles away.

  "He's thinkin'," Enos told Jason. "We give him a lot of room. He's had us win every fight we done been in." It was obvious that Big Jim was not only their leader, he was their hero as well.