by Lori Wilde
“I’m listening,” MacDonald said tersely.
“What do you usually do when you have a rock slide?” Jared asked. “How do you clear it?”
“Dynamite. We have some left over from the mining days.”
“Where is it?”
“In an old mine shaft. After the fire, we didn’t want to keep it in town.”
“How far?” Jared asked as new hope started to build inside.
“A few minutes by horseback. Archie can show you where it’s located.”
Jared said to Archie, “Let’s go.” He turned to Reese, who had joined them. “You stay here with MacDonald and Sam.”
SAM WAS HALFWAY DOWN the stairs when she heard Mac’s offer to give himself up to the hired guns and Jared’s abrupt refusal to let him do so. She stopped to listen. Even as her heart cracked at his comment about the toll of guilt, she relished his next words. It’s not something I want Sam to carry. He knew her. Understood her. Even more, he respected her and her loyalties. He may not agree with them, but…
She wanted to run down and hug him, but something prevented her. She didn’t want him to know she’d eavesdropped. And she knew he still meant to take Mac in. She quietly went upstairs to one of the windows where she’d left a loaded rifle. She watched Jared ride away, Archie at his side on his mule.
Fifteen men, give or take. Experienced gunmen, if Jared and Reese were right. How could they hold off that many?
She went downstairs and joined Mac, who’d settled back into a chair. She suspected it was all he could do to keep upright.
She put a hand on his shoulder.
“I wish you weren’t here,” he said softly.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
She suspected he already knew the answer. “Yes,” she said.
“How much?”
“Too much,” she said frankly.
“A marshal.” Mac sounded disgusted.
“Not what I expected,” she said with a grin.
“I don’t want you…hurt.”
“I won’t be. We understand each other in a way. He knows I’ll do anything to keep him from taking you, and I know that’s what he feels he has to do.”
“A conundrum,” he said softly.
Conundrum. A dilemma. A difficult problem.
Except it was more than that. Much more. Her heart was involved.
Even now, she grew warm at the very thought of Jared. How could that be when…
Her hand tightened on Mac’s shoulder. She owed him so much. And nothing good could come of today.
She was grateful he didn’t ask more questions. She suspected he refrained because he already knew the answers. He wasn’t one to rant or scold, just to be near if she needed something. She suddenly became aware of a wetness on her cheek.
She loved him so. She loved Reese and Archie, as well, but she’d never seen the guilt and pain in them that she saw in Mac. It weighed on him and had for years. She’d heard the same guilt in Jared’s voice. The two men had far more in common than they would ever want to admit.
How long had it been? Fifteen minutes. Jared was probably at the mine now. The dynamite was old, unsteady. She moved closer to Mac. Closer to human contact.
They might die in the next few days. All of them.
JARED FOLLOWED Archie to the mine shaft.
“There’s a bunch of abandoned mines along here,” Archie explained. “When the nuggets ran out, some believed there was gold in these mountains. Never found any veins, though. Me, I think it came down from far north.”
It was probably the longest explanation he’d ever gotten from the old man. “How much farther?” he asked after several minutes of riding.
“We’re here,” Archie said, sliding off his mule.
The mine entrance was overgrown, but there was a path. Jared dismounted. It took him several seconds to get his balance, to adjust to the pain.
Archie appeared not to notice. “Some folks kept prospecting here after the town burned down. Didn’t understand the gold came from up higher and was washed down.” He took a hard look at Jared’s face. “You be needing some help?”
Astonishing offer from a man who looked as if he could barely walk himself.
Jared shook his head, then followed Archie inside the mine shaft. The old man continued where he’d left off. “Them miners gave up before they went in very far,” Archie said. He hesitated. “We thought about hiding Mac in one of the mines, and Sam stacked supplies there. But a good tracker could find it without much trouble. Durn mud.”
More trust. More information. Jared knew Archie was right. There was no way to cover tracks, especially not in the time they had.
“What are you going to do about Mac?” Archie asked. “When we git him out of here.”
Jared noted the man said when, not if. He wished he was as optimistic. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. Some ideas had been flirting in his mind, but his main goal now was to deal with the posse and get MacDonald and Samantha safely away.
Archie stopped at the back of the shaft and tossed aside a large piece of oilcloth. Jared quickly counted five boxes.
“Some of the dynamite is old,” Archie warned. “Detonators are farther back. So are the fuse lines. There’s two plungers.”
“You know how to use them?”
“Some.”
Jared thought it was probably more than “some,” but he didn’t push it. He stooped beside the boxes, and the strain on his leg almost caused him to fall. Pain shot through him. He muttered a curse, then asked Archie, “Got a knife? I seem to remember you took mine.”
Archie handed him one. Jared opened the box and looked at the sticks of dynamite. “These boxes are too heavy for our mounts to carry.”
“Not for my mule,” Archie said. “She’s used to heavy loads, and I know how to pack them. I’ll walk alongside her.”
Jared nodded. “I’ll take the detonators and plungers with me.”
Jared was surprised at how nimble Archie could be. He quickly but carefully packed the dynamite, two boxes on each side of the mule, and one on top. If there was any fear in the old man, Jared didn’t see it.
As for himself, he had plenty of fear. He didn’t like dynamite— especially aged dynamite—but placed strategically around town, it could make the difference between living and dying.
Once they arrived back at the stable, Archie carefully untied the ropes holding the boxes, and Jared helped him lower the dynamite to the ground. Archie handed Jared a shovel and grabbed another from the back of the stables.
Reese met them there. “All the guns and ammunition are distributed where you instructed.”
Jared nodded and quickly explained what he wanted next. “We’ll bury the dynamite in two locations near the hotel. Also in the back in case they try to surround the building. When the first riders approach, we’ll set off the first round of dynamite in front of them. Let’s hope the horses panic and unseat at least several of the riders.”
He looked directly at Reese. “If they persist, we’ll set off the second round. After that, we’ll use the remaining sticks. I don’t want them to get inside the saloon. Maybe by then they’ll decide Benson isn’t paying them enough.”
“Jake and Ike can handle dynamite just fine,” Archie broke in. “So can Burley. Used to be a fair miner.”
“Okay,” he said. He had come to trust Archie’s judgment. “We have two plungers to activate the detonators,” he said. “Mac Donald will take care of the first one. Jake the second from across the street. Once MacDonald’s plunger goes off, Burley should take it and rig the dynamite in back in case they decide to try to get in that way.”
He didn’t have to explain any more. Reese and Burley took a load of dynamite to the back, and Archie and Jared started burying the sticks of dynamite in the road running by the saloon.
Jared buried five before straightening up. Pain jabbed deeper in his leg, and he steadied himself on a shovel
. He’d already abused his injury this day, and it was complaining like hell.
Then he noticed Sam several feet away, on her knees. Her hands were dirty and a speck of dirt sat on the end of her nose. She was so intent on the task that she apparently didn’t notice him.
She shouldn’t be messing with dynamite.
But he’d learned something these past few days. Sam would always be in the midst of life’s battles. She would always be a rebel. It was who she was, and he…loved her for it.
He put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a lopsided grin. It was conspiratorial and confident. His fingers squeezed harder. How could he ever let her go, now that she had lodged herself in his heart? And how could he protect her, and still let her be Sam? How could he protect her—and MacDonald—without betraying a part of himself?
“Almost done?” Archie’s querulous voice broke the silent bond between Sam and him.
Jared shot him a look that had quelled many a lawbreaker, but Archie wasn’t fazed. The old man returned to digging holes, obviously expecting him to do the same. When they were finished, Jared attached the detonators under Archie’s watchful eyes, and they ran the fuses into the saloon and attached them to the plunger. Then they started on the second set twenty feet south of the first.
He looked at the positioning of the dynamite again. Close. Really too close to the hotel. But Jared had only a few shooters and they needed to make every shot count. They couldn’t afford to let the riders scatter. They needed them startled and contained in the middle of the street, close enough that every one of the defenders’ bullets would count.
Now it would be a waiting game. He judged they had a day unless Benson’s men were able to locate dynamite faster, and knew how to use it.
They should have a few hours’ warning, but he wanted someone at the edge of town just in case something went wrong.
The rest of them could relax for a few hours. Rifles and handguns were loaded and placed where they should be. The dynamite was set. There was nothing else to do but wait.
“I’ll scrounge something to eat,” Sam said.
She never stopped. Most women would be needing comfort. Protection. Sam took care of herself and those she loved. She had fear. He’d seen it in her eyes. But she never let it slow her down.
Dammit, he loved her. Loved that quirky smile, and her sense of humor and the way she assaulted life. He loved the way she loved. Without condition. He loved the passion in her, and the loyalty. He hadn’t understood it before, but seeing her with MacDonald, he now did. There was an unbreakable bond between the two of them. The man hadn’t been pretending when he offered to go out there. He’d meant to do it. He still did. Jared saw it in his eyes.
They ate in silence. Bread and jam and cheese. Bacon. Beans. Three tins of canned peaches divided among the five of them. MacDonald ate lightly, and Jared could tell he was still in pain.
“You should get some rest,” he said. “Archie, too. I’ll take the first watch down the road, then Archie can take over in four hours. Then Reese. Fire two shots if you see anything that shouldn’t be there.”
“I can take my turn,” MacDonald said.
“No,” Jared said sharply. “You can barely move as it is, and we need you to get as much rest as you can for tomorrow.”
Brief rebellion flashed in Mac’s eyes, then disappeared, but Jared didn’t think it had died. Still, the man needed help going up and down the steps. Jared took his own rifle and limped over to the livery to get his horse. He used a mounting block to ease himself into the saddle. Then he rode to the edge of town and stopped on a small rise where he could see the road that led to the pass. He dismounted and found a smooth boulder to sit on.
Not likely anyone could break through, and less likely that Jake or Ike wouldn’t give adequate warning. But he needed to get away from the saloon, and Sam, and MacDonald. He needed to think.
The rain had stopped and the sky had opened. The first few stars of evening were glowing in a darkening sky. It was good to get out of that stifling room, to have his hand free. But now he longed to hold Sam with both arms. His conscience battled his heart. He’d found himself liking MacDonald. It was ironic after so many years of making the man the target of his anger.
Not exactly the man Jared thought he’d been hunting all these years. He knew he could clear Mac of the murder charges now. No question. But the others…
It was still his job to take him in.
And break Sam’s heart.
He suddenly felt something cold and wet against his hand. He looked behind him and saw Dawg. Then Sam. Her smile was tentative, as if she was unsure whether she was welcome. He reached up and took her hand in his and pulled her down next to him.
They were quiet for a moment. He simply drank in her presence. There was always challenge in her, but there was peace, too. Her hand was small in his, belying her strength.
He released it and put his arm around her. Then both arms, and he held her tight. He couldn’t endure it if anything happened to her, if that light inside her died.
“I wish you were out of this,” he said.
“I—”
She was stopped by his lips. He knew what she was going to say. I can take care of myself.
There was an easy companionship between them. It had been there before in bits and pieces. The electricity was still there, too. Raw and vital and sizzling. “I can take care of myself,” she said again, “but I need you.” It was an admission he thought she would never make.
God help him, he needed her, too.
He pulled her to him, and her body arched against his. He pushed down her britches as she fumbled with his gun belt. Her shirt went next along with his pants and what was left of his long johns. She looked up at him and in the twilight her eyes were brilliant. Then they were on the damp grass.
The stars and moon glowed above them as they loved. Quietly and intensely. Even desperately. He didn’t know what was going to happen in the next few days. And neither did she.
His hands moved over her, teasing, loving, caressing. Her body was soft and yielding against him, and he was only aware of the reality of her closeness, of the pleasure it gave him. Her body arched against his, and he was seized with elation and happiness. It faded quickly as he looked in her eyes, trusting and wondering, because their future was so uncertain.
But still he held her against him, not wanting to let her go. Touching. Feeling.
The fragility of their situation made every sensation more precious. Raw physical desire was still there, yet he had a fierce need to give rather than receive, and he savored the sound of her heartbeat, the taste of her, the gentle friction of skin against skin….
Sam relished the feel of his arms. Nothing else mattered at the moment. Her breath was gone, caught somewhere between her heart and throat as she looked into his eyes. They weren’t cold or hard or distant now, but turbulent with want and need. Every nerve in her body seemed to purr, then he entered her slowly, deliberately, gliding in and out with rhythmic perfection. “Jared,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with need.
His mouth covered hers as she caught his rhythm, and their bodies engaged in a primitive dance, her belly moving instinctively in circular motions, drawing him farther and farther inside. His strokes increased in power until she was riding a crest of a great wave, a giant force that swept her to the height of pleasure until she thought she could endure no more.
He gave one last drive that seemed to rock her entire being, and when she cried out in climax, he withdrew quickly and collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in rapid gasps.
He turned then on his side, holding her close as her body continued to quiver with aftershocks.
Jared put his arm around her. This was madness. Though they were on the farside of the hill from the ghost town, someone could come riding by. He had no doubt how Reese or Archie or MacDonald would feel about this. God knew they had enough problems without him complicating things.
He’d p
ulled out of her in time and he ached from that restraint. But he couldn’t risk planting his seed in her until they had resolved things between them. Yet if he stayed like this…her head on his heart, her body radiating warmth…
He sat up, still holding her. Her body was damp from the moist ground, but the night was warm. He dressed her. Slowly. Gently.
“You should go,” he said softly. “You need sleep.”
“I want to stay with you.”
“You’ll be missed,” he said. “I don’t think now is the time for explanations.” He softened the words with a kiss that moved from her nose to her lips.
“I…love you.” She looked at him with that great earnestness that never failed to both touch and amuse him. She seemed surprised by her own declaration.
He closed his eyes. He had no illusions about what they faced. They were badly outnumbered. She was frightened for Mac Donald. For all of them. When it was all over…
“Go,” he whispered.
“You love me, too,” she said.
He fought a smile. “Go.”
And she did. Dawg looked at him for a moment, then, wagging his tail, he followed. But damn if Dawg hadn’t looked like he was grinning.
SAM’S BODY HUMMED as she walked back to the saloon. She turned and looked at Jared, his silent form alert. Like a sentinel. And her heart wanted to burst with love.
Her body still quivered from the intensity of the sensations that had racked her body and the emotions that savaged her heart. She had given him everything she had tonight, including her trust.
Fear had heightened those sensations. Fear for all of them, but watching him now, she felt a new confidence. She remembered the efficiency with which he directed the planting of the dynamite. Everyone, even Reese, had followed directions without question.
And Mac…she had seen the changes in him as he talked to Mac. Jared was no longer the lawman or prosecutor. There had been a certain acceptance between the two men.
But could Jared give up being a marshal…?
18
