Spellbound Trilogy: The Wind Casts No Shadow, Heart of the Jaguar, Shadows in the Mirror

by Jeanne Rose

  "The heart?"

  Distracted, Monte let the cow jerk away, leaving the rope he'd tied her up with dangling in his hand. Protesting, she scampered toward a handful of the herd grazing on a nearby hill.

  "Want me to take some men out on the range and do a head count, Pa?" fifteen year old Stephen asked.

  Not knowing when this Sam Strong was going to show his face, Monte figured he'd better send his foreman out with some trusted hands.

  "Ginny and Cassie prepared a special supper for you," he said of the thirteen year old twins. "You wouldn't want to go and break their hearts by not having time to enjoy it properly." He slapped Stephen on the shoulder, the only sign of affection the boy welcomed from his father these days. "Kiss the girls for me, tell Carmen I'll be late and save me some supper!"

  "Sure, Pa."

  With a wide grin, Stephen stuffed the Stetson back on his head, mounted his pinto in one smooth movement and took off for home like he was chasing a bunch of coyotes. And Monte watched with pride until the dust cloud left by the fast-moving hooves enveloped horse and rider.

  Then he sobered.

  Cattle being rustled might not be as serious as men having their hearts cut out, though it was something Monte was always prepared to face.

  But the mutilated bull...

  Mounting his horse, he set off to find Jake O'Brian, his foreman.

  And as he rode, he tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that he was closer to Beaufort Montgomery than he'd figured.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  New Mexico Territory

  AN UNEASY SAM rode onto the de Arguello spread after having risen from his bed in the dead of night. He was still putting off carrying out his final assignment for the Army. Trouble was, he didn't want to think of never seeing Louisa again. When he'd gotten her message, asking him to ride out before daybreak so she could introduce him to El Tigre, he'd been elated.

  Had she really thought she needed to use the wild stallion to lure him out to see her? Didn't she know that all she had to do was say she wasn't through with him?

  At least he hoped she wasn't.

  Surely she hadn't tricked him into coming merely so she could give him her final good riddance face-to-face. He didn't remember her having a cruel streak.

  When she hadn't been able to say anything comforting after he'd told her the story the other day, when she hadn't come after him, had only called to him once to wait, he'd been certain she never wanted to see him again. She'd been shocked and he didn't blame her. So had something happened to change her mind? He hoped so. With Louisa's support, perhaps he could find some peace within himself.

  He didn't want to think about what he hadn't told her.

  Worrying about Louisa's true motives in getting him away from Santa Fe, Sam was distracted and therefore hadn't gotten within a hundred yards of the outbuildings when he was ambushed. Louisa galloped Defiant seemingly straight out of hell at him, only to stop directly in front of his roan, who whinnied and tried to rear. Sam easily kept the mild-mannered, good-natured horse in control.

  "Morning."

  The single word did not make Louisa's intentions clear, Sam decided. A full moon sunk close to the horizon cast a silver-blue glow over her lovely features, which seemed to be at peace. Had she accepted what he'd told her, then?

  In case not, Sam put on a bit of bravado. "You certainly were confident that I'd show."

  "I knew you wouldn't want to miss this opportunity...to ride a half-wild stallion."

  That wasn't why he'd shown and they both knew it.

  He wanted to ask her how she felt about what he'd done...whether or not she'd forgiven him. Instead, he said nothing, merely followed her lead, loping through the night and into the dawn. The first whisper of daylight accompanied their arrival at mountain foothills and a rocky formation whose entrance was blocked by a series of split logs. A dark blur on the other side caught his eye.

  "That him?"

  Louisa nodded. "El Tigre watches for me every morning."

  Sure enough, by the time she dismounted and approached the makeshift gate, the blur had focused into a stallion, but one who warily watched the human activity from a safe distance back in the canyon.

  "He doesn't know you or he'd be right here, making up to me before I could get inside," Louisa maintained.

  "You have that effect on the male species."

  She avoided looking at him and Sam would swear he'd embarrassed her with the truth even if he'd issued the words in good-hearted jest. He had some effect on her, too, then.

  Good.

  Indicating he should wait, Louisa stepped into the canyon alone, bridle in hand. A few yards from the opening, she stopped and calmly waited. Nervously eyeing him, the stallion lumbered over to her and nosed her shoulder as he passed. He made a tight circle, eyes rolling at Sam, then pranced in front of Louisa until she caught hold of his mane and made over him for a minute, talking to him in a low, soothing tone while running her free hand along his neck and down his nose.

  She was so obviously entranced with the magnificent horse that Sam found himself tensing until Louisa laughed and drew back and deftly put on the hackamore, a bitless bridle that worked by placing pressure on the horse's nose, thereby regulating his air intake.

  "You going to ride him bareback?" Sam called.

  "I could, but a saddle's safer with this guy. I've been keeping an old one out here." She led the stallion to a nearby rocky shelter where Sam could see the leather tucked in a roofed crevice, no doubt for protection against inclement weather. "Easier than hauling it back and forth."

  Again, as she tacked the stallion, Louisa made over him. A love of horses was one of the things Sam had always admired about her, but seeing her focusing so much attention on El Tigre – and ignoring him, perhaps? – made him shift restlessly. Disliking what he was feeling, Sam froze.

  Surely he couldn't be jealous of a horse.

  That's exactly what he was, Sam realized as Louisa tightened the cinch, then pulled on one of the stallion's ears so he would cock his head toward her face. She whispered something and the horse whinnied softly in response.

  And Sam called himself a damn fool for caring.

  But how could he help it when he longed for Louisa to whisper sweet words for him alone, when he longed for her to stroke him exactly as she was the stallion. Well, not exactly, perhaps, he decided, now growing amused by the idea.

  As she mounted El Tigre and warmed him up, first walking, then jogging, and finally loping around the confined canyon, Sam speculated on whether or not Louisa had ever stroked any man but him. Chances were she hadn't if that dance hall girl Nina were to be believed.

  Growing impatient watching, he called, "Can I come in?"

  "I'll bring him out."

  "Sure it's safe?"

  "I've had him out before, and now that he's gotten rid of some steam, I don't see why not. Mount up."

  But rather than riding his roan, Sam chose Defiant. He still had a score to settle with the old gelding who'd thrown him more than once before he'd put the horse up for sale. And he still had that same thing to prove to Louisa.

  "Feeling daring?" she asked, bringing the black through the opening as he first jogged the gelding in a circle, then took him into an easy lope.

  "Give me a chance to warm up." Sam quickly took Defiant through some fancy paces, figure eights where he made the horse change leads several times. "You promised I could ride El Tigre, right?"

  "Catch me and you can!" she dared, the black stallion shooting off at her invisible command.

  Another race. Sam felt as if Louisa liked running him in circles. And he didn't even care. He followed, hot on her horse's heels. She was a hellion and a heartbreaker according to the dance hall girl. And how else had the woman put it? Virgin goddess?

  Louisa was a goddess, all right. Sam could almost imagine her riding bareback – and he didn't mean only sans saddle – with that long, heavy black hair streaming around her lightly bronzed, fit body.
>
  The physical distraction that seemed to come naturally with thinking about her almost did him in. Not lose the race, for once more they were on superbly matched mounts and Sam had quickly caught up to her. But suddenly, the land ahead presented mirage...he hoped to God he was seeing an illusion of some sort or did the land really just stop, pitching into nowhere?

  "Louisa, what's ahead?" Sam yelled, quickly glancing at her.

  Face flushed, eyes bright, lips curving in a smile, she yelled back. "Nothing!"

  "Are you crazy?" He was already turning Defiant, but she was going on, as if she meant to leap the chasm. He glanced back at her. "Louisa!"

  Her cry was one of triumph as, at her secretive signal, the horse performed a braking maneuver, crude still, but similar to the one she'd shown off in the charreada. The horse's front hooves came to rest mere inches from the drop off.

  And Sam was mad as hell.

  He glowered in silence until she backed El Tigre to where he and Defiant waited.

  Dismounting, Sam demanded, "Get off!"

  "I won."

  "The hell you did." Before she knew what he was about, he strong-armed her out of the saddle, and without giving it another thought, mounted the half-wild stallion, sitting deep in the saddle as the black danced and snorted unhappily at his unaccustomed weight. "Settle down!" he growled to the horse, doubling his command with the vise of his legs. And to Louisa, "Let's go."

  Without waiting to see if she did as he dictated, he rode straight back for the little canyon. His displeased mount tried to defy him, but, while kinder to the animal than a halter with a bit, the hackamore was effective. And Sam was determined. Finally giving in to the human's stronger will, the black settled down under him and jogged straight into the enclosure. A glance back assured him Louisa followed on Defiant.

  It wasn't until they'd both dismounted and she'd replaced the split rails that secured the opening that she demanded, "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

  "Me? I'm not the one who took a chance with my life."

  "Balderdash! People take chances all the time!"

  "Not without good cause."

  "And what's good cause?" she demanded, her expression one of pure fury. "War? Killing innocent people?"

  So she hadn't quite forgiven him. Saddened, not to mention angry that he'd fooled himself into forgetting what lay between them even if for a short while, Sam silently unfastened the stallion's saddle. He was a damn fool, that's all there was to it.

  "There's nothing wrong with having courage," Louisa went on as she walked Defiant in a circle to cool him down. "Men who fight useless wars think they have it."

  "Some do. Some also think they're doing the right thing by participating in wars. At least they start out that way," he said, meaning himself. "You can't know for sure what's in someone else's heart."

  Ignoring that, Louisa said, "Well, he has courage in spades." She indicated the black. "That's why I named him El Tigre, the jaguar."

  "He might have a big heart and lots of courage, but he's smarter than you," Sam returned. "He wouldn't have chosen to pull that fool stunt on his own. You drove him to the edge of the cliff...and if you'd have asked him to do it, he probably would have gone over for you. Is that courage on your part...or sheer stupidity?"

  "How dare you?"

  "I dare because, whether or not you believe it, I hate seeing lives wasted!" Sam shouted, throwing down the saddle and going for the hackamore, lightly tapping the stallion's nose when he bared his teeth. "Any lives. Even that of a horse."

  "I would never have hurt him!"

  "Not intentionally, perhaps, but what if you had misjudged the distance of that cliff?"

  "Well, I didn't."

  "But you could have. Then you would both be dead." Freeing the stallion, Sam gave him a light whack on his rump. "Is that what you wanted?" he asked as El Tigre shot away to the opposite end of the canyon.

  "Of course not –"

  Thinking about wasted lives, Sam couldn't contain his fury. He stalked Louisa. "A hellion and a heartbreaker. That's what someone called you. I sure have no argument with the hellion part!"

  Dropping Defiant's reins – the horse stilled the moment the leathers touched the ground – Louisa met Sam head on, balled fists at her hips. "I'm not the heartbreaker here."

  Sam wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and jerked her to him. Her hands flailed, one coming to rest on his arm. Her eyes were wide and filled with anger and something less definable and infinitely more exciting.

  "You're wrong, Louisa Janks," Sam said softly. "If you had gone and killed yourself out there, my heart never would have recovered."

  He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. Her breath came in spurts, as did his own. She was angry. And excited.

  And when he devoured that excitement with a smothering kiss, attacking her as a starving man would food, she gave him more. All thoughts, all worries, all the heartache and uncertainty standing between them receded in that moment of pure physical and emotional connection. They were two people, simply a man and a woman alone without the world's influences, needy and caring of one another.

  And Sam knew he would rather die than let go of Louisa now.

  LOUISA FELT AS IF SHE might die of bliss as Sam's free hand found her breast and worried the nipple until tingles of excitement shot down her flesh, over her belly and on to the secret place between her thighs. Against all reason, she was in Sam Strong's arms where she belonged. Ma had told her to go after him, and go she had, though she hadn't counted on this happening, at least not yet – not until she could believe not only in Sam's love but in his constancy – fearful as she was of being abandoned by him a second time.

  For as certain as she was of anything, Louisa knew she was about to make love with Sam Strong.

  She only hoped she remembered how.

  Pulling free of the wonderfully smothering kiss, she gasped, "This is going so fast."

  "Not fast enough."

  His body taut with urgency, Sam swept her to a spot under a cottonwood, where sparse grass blanketed the dusty earth. She didn't think of resisting, was nearly giddy with exhilaration at what they were about to do. In one smooth movement, he had her on her back on the earth and was resting on his side, his front pressed up against her.

  His beautiful blue-green eyes connecting with hers, he vowed, "I feel as if I've waited forever."

  She knew she had. No man had ravished her but for a pleasant meeting of the lips since Sam had stolen away her innocence as he called it. Not that she would tell him – he would think her foolish. And maybe she was a fool for listening to her heart, for waiting six long years to assuage her loneliness, but at the moment, Louisa didn't think so. She hadn't waited consciously for him but for what was right.

  It was providence that the two turned out to be one and the same.

  "This feels so right," she whispered as he unbuttoned her shirt.

  Her hand smoothed the planes of his handsome face, her fingers lightly traced the scar. He caught her wrist and kissed her palm, as if to distract her from the unpleasant memory the scar conjured.

  "You may not be a pretty tin soldier anymore, but you're still the handsomest man I've ever known."

  "And you're the most stunning woman..."

  Sam's words died off as his mouth found a breast covered only by a light camisole. He suckled her through the material even as he slipped the strap over her shoulder and continuing tugging until the breast was freed. She arched her back, pressed herself into his mouth. Gasped at the sensations spiraling through her as teeth met tender flesh.

  She realized his hands were tugging at her pants and she helped him slide them down halfway over her hips, somehow without breaking the intimate connection. Then she was working on his belt and buttons and he was busy kissing her neck and her face while she freed him. Her insides curled as she stroked his length which grew hotter and harder with each pass of her hand. She could see his tempting male flesh in her mi
nd but wanted to do so in reality.

  Remembering a love technique she'd overheard Ma's girl's talking about years ago – something meant to drive the customers wild and to guarantee they'd come back for more – Louisa had the irresistible urge to pleasure Sam in this most unusual way. She shoved at him, and when he lifted his head from where it had once more settled at her breast, his expression was a combination of surprise and wary disappointment. She pushed again – more insistently this time – until he was on his back and she was draped half over him.

  A cool breeze swept over the flesh of her exposed buttocks, reminding her of where they were. A quick glance told her both horses had their backs to the couple, giving them as much privacy as was possible under the circumstances.

  Grinning, Louisa dipped her head and, using her mouth, did to Sam some of the things he'd done to her breast. When he realized what she was about, he murmured, "Louisa," and dug his fingers into her hair.

  She'd never been so excited. He tasted salty...and maybe a little forbidden. And he was making low, exciting sounds at the back of his throat. That she had such control over a man who was used to being in command gave her a sense of great power and daring. She reveled at the odd, smooth texture of his flesh. Sam's reaction was to lift his hips and grasp her hair even tighter.

  As if he couldn't help himself, he began moving, his rocking rhythm as natural as the one she remembered from their night in the cave. Her own body responded instantly. She used her lips and tongue to add to the sensations he must be feeling while her own breasts throbbed and the tender flesh secreted between her thighs burned for him.

  As if he understood that, he rasped out, "Louisa...now!" and pulled on her hair until she freed him and let him guide her up over his body.

  The pants were twisted around her hips and thighs, and Sam struggled with them a moment before he was able to drag the garment below her knees. Her boots stopped the pants from going any further. Not that Louisa cared. Desire sang through her, stroked her very being. She adapted, both for the soft binding around her calves...and for the man who so eagerly waited to fill her.