“’Night, Sammie,” he whispered, small arms squeezing her neck tightly.
Sammie’s throat went tight. Jennifer ran over and leaned on her other shoulder, giving her a quick hug.
“Sweet dreams,” the little girl said.
Sammie closed her eyes and squeezed both children. “Sweet dreams, you two. Thank you for taking me to see the kittens.”
When they returned to Case’s side, Sammie watched the tall man and the two small children walk down the road toward Wiley and Linnie Mae’s, an unfamiliar pang tugging at her heart.
Later, Sammie felt his presence even before she heard the screen door close. She didn’t turn from where she stood, leaning against one of the front porch columns, looking out toward the road. Twilight faded into darkness, and the scent of honeysuckle perfumed the air.
Neither spoke, the night sounds swirling amidst the currents between them. The air seemed more alive whenever Case was near.
And the house was empty of anyone but them now.
“Lovely evening,” she ventured. “You have a really nice place here, Case.”
The line of weariness that marked his frame shifted as he straightened, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “It’s nothing like New Orleans.”
She stared out at the stars. “It has a beauty all its own, just as you told me.”
He surveyed the surroundings. “I hardly notice anymore.”
“It’s no wonder. You work too hard.”
“Linnie Mae been worrying about me again?”
“Yes, but I have eyes of my own. You look weary to the bone.”
“No help for that.”
Talk to me about it, Case. She wanted to understand his problems, wanted him to share himself with her. Ironic, since she had shared next to nothing with him.
She had no right to pry, even if it were her nature. And she sure didn’t want to cause him discomfort, after all he’d done for her. The best thing she could do for him right now was let him get some sleep. His exhaustion was almost palpable. “You’ve had a long day, Case. I’ll let you get to bed.”
A powerful urge to hold him close and offer comfort seized her. At the screen door, she stood for a long moment, one hand poised on the handle, wishing he would ask her to stay.
When he didn’t, she hurried inside.
Sometime later as she lay in bed, unable to sleep, she heard his footsteps on the stairs, then the sounds of him moving about, getting ready for his own bed so very nearby.
They were alone. If she called out to him, he would come.
Neither would have to be lonely for this one night.
Guilt nagged at her for wanting to be held in those strong arms so much. Guilt for the problems she’d presented to him when he needed no more, for hiding the truth about why she was in trouble. For being tempted to ask for his help.
She had no doubt that Case would try, but not only would she place her family at risk by involving anyone else, she might place this kind and warm family in jeopardy, too.
She couldn’t do that. The least she owed this good man was not to add to his burdens. She had to find her own way out of this mess.
A good man. Case Marshall was definitely that. A man who cared for a child’s feelings, who rescued a woman he didn’t even know. Who wouldn’t give up on a failing ranch.
She couldn’t help contrasting him with her former fiancé. Brant Gordon had been her father’s hand-picked candidate for son-in-law: good pedigree, bright future at the bank, all the social graces. Perfectly prepared to entomb Sammie in a life just like her mother’s.
She tried to imagine Brant leaping over the hood of a car, charging like a warrior to her rescue. She almost laughed. The picture wouldn’t form. Brant would have to get his hands dirty.
Thank God she’d escaped that fate and sent Brant on his way, regardless of how angry her father had been. Marriage was a tomb, love the rock that sealed you inside. No way was she letting herself be sucked into that fate.
Flirting at the edge of her thoughts was the awareness that Wiley and Linnie Mae were still in love at their ages and neither of them seemed entombed. On the contrary, they seemed completely alive and vital.
As her eyelids drooped, one uncensored image flitted through her mind, a picture of Case with tender eyes focused on her…
Don’t even think about it. There is no future for you here. You have to leave the second you figure out where to go.
As she slid into the inviting embrace of sleep, she thought she heard footsteps pause just outside her door.
Her last thoughts were wishes…for what could not be.
“We’ve found the trail, Mr. Gascoigne.”
“Where?”
“Outside Snyder, Texas.”
“You said the trail.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where is the woman?”
“Uh, we’re not sure yet.”
“Why do you call me then?”
“I just—I thought you would want to know that we’re close, sir.”
“Raymond?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Close is nothing. Do not bother me until you have her. Comprends?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Raymond?”
“Sir?”
“I am distressed when two of my men cannot handle one young woman.”
“But, sir, it’s the trucker—he—”
“He is nothing, Raymond. Do whatever it takes to separate them. Just bring me the woman. I grow weary of your incompetence, and you know what happens when I grow weary…”
“I’ll see to it, sir.”
“You do that, Raymond.”
Chapter Eight
The next morning as Sammie helped Linnie Mae clean up the kitchen, she struggled with the knowledge that she couldn’t stay.
Astonishing to think that Samantha St. Claire would wish to do so.
She washed dishes as though she’d done it often, but she had to think hard to figure if she’d ever washed dishes by hand before. Certainly not when she lived at home; they’d had household help all her life. Even in her apartment, she’d had a dishwasher. Yet here, Linnie Mae worked as women must have done for centuries. She made her own bread, she raised a garden and canned vegetables, she hung the laundry to dry outside on a line.
It was hard work, no question about it. Sammie couldn’t vouch for herself over the long run; maybe the appeal was simply the novelty of it.
But it felt good. Felt honest to work this way.
“Do you ride, Sammie?”
She jerked out of her thoughts. “What?”
“Do you ride horses?”
Cautiously, Sammie answered, “Yes, why?”
Linnie Mae frowned. “I’d like to ask you a favor.”
Since Linnie Mae had yet to ask anything of her, Sammie agreed instantly, relieved to have a chance to repay this generous woman. “Of course.”
“Case would skin me alive if he knew I was asking, but this is between you and me, all right?”
Sammie hoped it wouldn’t be anything that would upset him.
“You could help me out by asking Case to take you riding. I can’t remember the last time he had a day off. He won’t take it easy if we urge him to do it, but he might, if you were the one asking.”
Relief flooded through her, accompanied by a niggle of shame at her eagerness to have time alone with Case. “I’ll be happy to try. I don’t know if he’ll listen to me either, but he does look really tired, doesn’t he?”
Linnie Mae nodded sorrowfully. “He sure does, honey. The man could use some fun in his life.”
When they finished, Sammie dried her hands and headed outside to look for Case. She found him beside the barn in the shade, cleaning the hooves of his horse. His shirt was off in deference to the heat, and Sammie’s mouth went dry as she surveyed his lean, muscled torso, the dark hair spilling over his forehead.
She stopped in her tracks, drinking in the sight of him. Itching to touch him.
Case knew the instant she came near. Even if Comanche hadn’t stirred at the presence of a stranger, he would have been certain. The air thickened. His body came alert.
He looked behind him.
She was several feet away, too far to reach out and touch.
But damned if he didn’t want to.
He cleared his throat. Smiled. “Good morning.”
The blue eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled back. “Good morning.” The dark chocolate voice slid over his nerve endings, tantalizing even as it pleasured.
He went for casual. “Sleep well?”
“Oh, yes,” she answered, a little too brightly.
Good. She felt the buzz, too.
“How about you?” she asked.
Not even trying to hold back the heat he knew was in his gaze, he responded. “Not as well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Comanche stirred and drew her attention. “He’s beautiful, Case.”
“He’s ornery as hell. Appearances can be deceiving.” He felt obligated to issue the double warning. Comanche wasn’t the only one who could present problems to her.
The brilliance of her smile surprised him. “I’m not afraid.”
Need arrowed straight through him, the heat of the restless night climbing quickly to boiling again.
He forced himself back to Comanche’s hoof.
“Case?”
That voice was driving him out of his mind. “What?” He knew he was too curt, but how was a man to ignore the sight of her, the scent of her…the sound?
She didn’t speak for a long moment. At last she inhaled. “I know this is a lot to ask, but—”
Case waited.
“But?”
“Would it be too much to ask if you’d take me riding?”
This was way down on the list of requests he would have expected. “Riding?” He looked up quickly. “On a horse?”
That smile…sweet heaven, he could drown in that smile.
“Yes.”
“You know how to ride?”
She rolled her eyes. “Even city girls can take riding lessons, you know.” She paused. “So…would you? I know you’re really busy, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but…” Her voice trailed off.
Case was surprised by how much he wanted to say yes. He looked around him, thinking of all he still had to accomplish today. He set down Comanche’s hoof and stood up. He shouldn’t indulge himself in the pleasure, but…he wanted to. A lot. “I still need to—”
Watching disappointment sweep over her face, he came to a swift decision. “If you could wait until this afternoon so I could finish up some things, I’d be happy to take you riding.”
The brilliant smile that lit up her face swept away all his doubts. Maybe a few hours of pleasure wouldn’t hurt. He’d make up for it later, if necessary.
But maybe, just this once, he could afford to lay claim to some time to play with this beautiful woman.
Sammie spurred Gypsy Girl, the bay mare he’d picked for her. “Race you to the tree!”
Case wasn’t sure he wanted to win—the view from behind was pretty spectacular, whiskey curls flying behind her, shapely bottom teasing as she leaned over the mare’s neck. Winning was rapidly falling to the bottom of his priorities. He’d already won, just being here with her on this beautiful day.
Then she cast a glance back over her shoulder and taunted, “What’s the matter, cowboy? Aren’t you afraid a city girl might beat you?”
He laughed out loud. Mischief—who’d have thought it? He used his thighs to signal Comanche. “Let’s take ’em, boy.”
Thanks to Comanche’s powerful stride, they quickly pulled even, and the sight that greeted him almost took the breath right out of his body. No trace of city girl left, Sammie was pure warrior queen, alive and glowing with challenge. She melded with the mare to form one creature, her riding fluid and graceful. Her curls streaming behind her, Sammie looked his way, and the peal of her laughter lifted his heart. When she gave him an outrageous wink and spurred her mount, Case felt the warmth all the way to his boots.
No way he was going to rob her of the win. He got his reward in the gleam of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes. For the first time since he’d met her, the haunted shadows had retreated. Though he had a boatload of questions that still needed answering, Case decided to let the fragile peace stand as long as it could. He’d do a lot of things, if it would keep this Sammie alive and free. Unless he could see some sign that her troubles had followed her to the ranch, he’d let his questions be. As long as there was no danger to the people he meant to protect, he could wait.
The decision let a weight fall from his shoulders. Case dismounted from Comanche and moved to lift Sammie from her horse. Her arms slid around his neck, and he lowered her body slowly down the front of his. When her feet touched the ground, he didn’t let go.
Every curve of her body seemed to warm and soften against him. Desire shoved all rational thought right out of his head. He lowered his mouth toward the lush beauty of her lips, knowing he shouldn’t complicate things this way…knowing he should keep her at arms’ length…knowing he couldn’t care less.
His lips touched hers.
Comanche nipped the mare, and she shifted into Case.
Muttering, Case let Sammie go. “Goddamn troublemaker.” He stomped around, grabbing Comanche’s reins and moving him away from the mare.
Sammie giggled, and Case’s ire vanished. Fun…he’d vowed to have fun.
He exhaled. Nodded toward the creek, grabbing the mare’s reins where they’d fallen. “I’m going to water the horses. Want to see the creek?”
Sammie joined him. When they reached the water’s edge, Case let the horses drink, separating them first. Once they’d drunk their fill, he led Comanche to a separate stand of grass. Neither horse would stray as long as he was nearby, but Comanche did better on his own.
Sammie took up a place beside him, looking around her curiously. “This is so pretty. Do you come here often?”
He picked up a flat rock and skipped it across the water. One…two… three skips it went, shooting up a fine tail of spray. He smiled, pleased that he hadn’t lost the knack. “Not like I used to when I was a kid.”
“You haven’t forgotten how to skip stones, though.”
“Some things just come back easily, I guess.” He pointed to the large flat rock further down the bank. “I used to think that if I sat there long enough, I’d see the ghosts of the Comanches who used live around here.”
“And did you?”
“Nope. But that didn’t stop me from wishing.”
“Was it lonely, Case? Being out here and being an only child?”
Being hated by my father, do you mean? He shoved the bitter thoughts away. “I don’t know. I never had anything to compare it with. How about you? Are you an only child?” And here he’d just promised himself not to ask any questions.
She didn’t answer immediately, but at last she did. “I have two sisters,” she spoke quietly, almost as if she were afraid someone would hear her. “I’m the oldest.”
Where are they? How old are they? How old are you? What were you like as a little girl? So many questions he’d resolved not to ask yet. “Want to walk up the creek a ways?”
She nodded, gratitude shining from her eyes.
They walked slowly, mostly in silence, punctuated only by the sound of the birds and the wind rustling the leaves. Case found a grassy spot under a big elm and lowered himself to the ground, sighing out loud as he leaned back on his elbows, long legs thrust out before him.
Sammie sat down beside him, legs crossed yoga style. Relief that he asked no more questions gave way to wondering what would have happened back there if Comanche hadn’t nipped the mare. Trying to distract herself from that train of thought, she scanned the area.
“Were there really Indians right here?”
He’d laid down, his hat covering his face, his head resting in both hands crossed behind him. His answe
r was muffled by the hat.
“What?”
He pulled the hat away, setting it on the ground beside him. Sammie stared at him in frank appreciation of his dark good looks, the green eyes drawing her in, beckoning like the cool creek water sang a siren song to the hot, weary traveler.
“I said yes.” Nodding toward the bluff just ahead of them, he explained. “That bluff was a great lookout point. You can see for miles from the top.”
“Really?” Suddenly she wanted to see it. Glancing back to ask Case if they could go, she saw that his eyes had drifted shut, the lines of fatigue relaxing. She held her tongue, hoping that he might sleep.
It was certainly no hardship just to sit here and look her fill. A more beautifully made man, she was positive she’d never seen. The dark locks that so frequently spilled over his brow lay there now, tempting her fingers to touch them, to see if they were as thick and silky as she remembered.
He drew in a deep breath, and she saw him relax further. His breathing evened out, and she was almost certain he slept. Content to watch over him, Sammie settled in to enjoy her visual feast.
The same peace this place afforded Case crept into Sammie’s soul. She emptied her mind of worries and questions, and soon she joined him in slumber.
Case’s nose tickled.
He opened his eyes to see whiskey-brown curls waving, the wind lifting them to dance over his face. He wiggled his nose to dislodge them and wondered why he couldn’t feel his arm.
It was a moment before he registered the warm flesh against his chest, the delicious bottom snug against his lap.
But it only took an instant for desire to consume his attention.
Damn, she felt good against him. His hand twitched, eager to fill his palm with her softness.
Then Sammie stirred. Sat up.
The release of her weight on his arm brought the sharp prickle of blood returning.
Case sat up, too, massaging to get the blood flowing.
“Sorry.” Her cheeks were red.
He smiled. “No problem.” To avoid grabbing her and kissing her senseless, he stood up. Looked toward the horizon, struggling against the urge to cover her with his body, to have her.
The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3) Page 58
