by Multiple
“I don’t know. Really, I don’t. I don’t think Quanto knew what they were doing at first and I don’t even know whose idea it was. But he was concerned, we found the surveyors close to our home several times. We have a cabin, nestled amongst the pine, with a clear view of the Crystal Lake. The tribe, they come and go, migrating as they need to, many left the mountains during the war with Mexico, but they mostly lived in the caves. We hunt only what we need and we maintain the balance. It’s safe for us there. We are miles from the western settlements and we like it that way. But if the ranchers take the mountain in the spring, we were told the army will push us out.”
Sam frowned. The army was getting pushy with a lot of the empty land in the western reaches. Established ranchers, like his father, preferred the open land, the freedom to use it when pasture grew sparse as Texas summers could bring drought.
There were even rumors of train rails being laid to Fort Worth and then dipping south. The train lines coupled with the rumors that the state would relinquish more than ten million acres to the U.S. government were both tasks that had Jason traveling between Washington D.C. and Austin.
What a mess.
“How much gold will you need to purchase the land if the compromise is pushed through?”
Scarlett shook her head. She tucked his Marshal’s star into the pocket of her britches. Her fingers worked her braids free and he forgot the question as she combed her hands through the mass of red. It was such a true red, the firelight enhanced the color, but she really didn’t need it.
“I don’t know. I’ve heard them talking about it, but to be honest, I was never that good with figures. Basic values, the worth of a bushel of wheat or a pound of flour, I understand. The cost of a mountain?” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. “How does one put value on the land when it should belong to no one person but to all peoples?”
“You’re talking thousands of dollars. The average acre sells for fifty cents on the dollar, sometimes a little less if the terrain is unfriendly. The mountains are cool, rich in water, minerals and grazing plateaus. That’s going to increase the value.” And make her case even harder to plead. The judge wouldn’t forgive the gold theft regardless of the reasons and telling him it was to buy coveted land would speed the noose around her neck, not prevent it.
His father amassed a great deal of wealth over the years with shipping interests in the east and along the gulf to support his ranch and family. That wouldn’t be enough though. Political and social influence could only help her case so far.
“Your brothers can’t rob anymore banks. No matter the reason.” He blew out a breath.
“You can’t make them return the gold.”
“The talking heads in Washington aside, Scarlett, the army needs that gold to pay their men. They’ll go after it if your brothers keep taking it.”
“So what should we do then? Leave our home? Let them take it? The land belongs to Quanto’s people, it has for centuries before the whites pushed west before the Spanish pushed north. The mountain is Quanto’s if it is anyone’s…it’s my home.” The plaintive note struck a chord within him.
“Scarlett, I didn’t say it was lost and I didn’t say you should give up your home. I would never walk away from the Flying K and I wouldn’t let the government sell it out from under us. But you have to fight this battle differently.”
“How?”
Sam shrugged. “We talk to my father. We talk to Jason. They understand the politics of the thing. They’ll know ways to make this happen that won’t get you and your brothers hung.”
Damn her brothers for dragging her into it. Sam kicked a stray rock and watched it skip over the lip of the cave and out into the rain. The sheeting effect was tapering off, leaving a soaking rain to fall. The land needed it, but it had the feel of settling in for the night.
Trapping the pair of them in the cave.
Sam’s gaze flickered over Scarlett’s slighter frame and sighed. “You should try to get some sleep. It might be nightfall before we get a break in the rain and can ride back.”
Something in her gaze warned him of the incoming kick. “I can’t go back.”
“Scarlett…”
“Sam.” His name sounded heavenly in her husky voice. “I can’t go back.”
He clenched his fists. She’d already asked him once if he could let her go and he’d avoided answering her. Avoided committing himself.
She turned, leaning back against the cave wall, opposite him. Her green eyes a riot of swiftly changing emotions. “My brothers are coming for me. They will tear the Flying K apart to get to me and you—your family—could be hurt.”
The protectiveness of a brother, the need to rescue family, Sam understood that. If it were Kid in a similar position, he would take the landscape apart until his baby brother was safe. He could only imagine how much worse it would be if it were a sister in danger.
“Kid found your brothers once. I’ll send him back to them.”
“No!” Scarlett pushed away from the wall. “Sam, listen to me. Secrecy is how we have survived. My brothers are more likely to silence Kid if they think he is a threat than to listen to him.”
“I don’t think so Minx. Kid is the one that talked them into handing over the gold. So they were willing to listen once. If he tells them we are going to get the charges against you dismissed and help with the mountain, they might listen.”
“If you are willing to do all that, then why aren’t you willing to let me go?”
It was a damn fine question. One Sam didn’t want to examine too closely. The thought of her leaving was a mule-kick to the gut. A slippery panic that chilled his veins and left him sweating ice. He didn’t like it.
“Because you’re still my prisoner.” He fell back on the lie of it, the weak link he was desperate to forge.
Her chin lifted and her eyes blazed. “So it seems you are still the marshal after all.”
Sam didn’t think. He just closed the distance between them, seized her arms and pulled her to him. His mouth slanted over hers in a hard, furious kiss.
And it was a mistake.
Her mouth opened, welcoming him in a blaze of heat so intense, he half-expected his skin to catch fire. She was soft, damp and angry. Her teeth bit at his lip, but then her tongue swiped out to duel with his. Tiny hands fisted in his shirt, pushing him away even as she dragged herself closer.
It was an angry kiss.
He angled his head, daring the sharpness of her teeth as his tongue plunged into her mouth. She tasted of wild flowers, hot spices and so violently feminine that it shredded his honorable intentions. He stroked his hands up her arms to cup her face and further up to slide into her hair.
The damp tresses were like silk through his fingers. A groan rolled out of her throat, both protest and surrender. The sound stung his conscience. Still, he crowded closer, nibbling along her lower lip before thrusting his tongue against hers, inviting her to do the same. The soft swell of her breasts flattened against his chest, her arms climbing to wrap around his neck.
A surge of purely male satisfaction soared through him. He abandoned her hair to slide his hands under the tight bottom he’d smacked earlier. With one lift, he picked her up against him and ground their hips together.
His cock swelled painfully inside the denim. The dull, aching thud of his headache vanished until there was only the sound of rain, the thud of his heart and the sweet, soft catches of her breath as Scarlett clung to him.
Her fingers dug into his neck, nails biting and he lifted his head, aware of her thighs wrapping his hips, and her chest rising and falling in swift pants. He wanted to push off the jacket and tug her shirt from the waistband of her pants. He nuzzled the corner of her mouth, opening his eyes to find hers gazing at him, glassy with desire.
“Have you ever been with a man?” He asked the question, not sure what answer he really wanted. He squeezed her bottom gently, testing the shape of it.
“I
…”
“Wait.” He fought for breath, rubbing his forehead gently to hers. Did he really want to know? The thought that she might say yes stabbed him in the gut. The thought that she would say no filled him with guilt.
She was still against him, her pants measured against his own and Sam closed his eyes, burying his face against her neck. He took in a lungful of her rich scent. Rain. Horse. Scarlett.
He wanted to run his tongue along her throat, taste the sweet flesh as it disappeared under the shirt. Her fingers were tentative as they left his neck to stroke his hair, the motion thrusting her against his arousal and shredding the frayed ends of his control.
“Sam?”
“Shh.” He pressed his lips to the pulse leaping in her throat. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Her thighs tightened as she began to slide and he groaned. He wanted to stretch her out on the bedroll, peel off her clothes and kiss his way across her pale skin. Need throbbed through him, burning away common sense.
“Sam.” His minx repeated his name, fisting her fingers in his hair and tugging.
This close he could count the freckles kissing her nose and her cheeks. Her green eyes were sparkling gems, so hot and fierce that he could imagine the flames flickering in them.
“I haven’t.”
The words mired against the fog of heat shrouding his brain. He frowned, trying to make sense of them. Realization penetrated the haze slowly, easing the tension banding his chest. But that freedom added a boulder to his conscience. She was untouched.
He didn’t have the right…
Frustration ballooned in his lungs; his body’s need rejecting his mind’s common decency. Her lower back arched, her lips finding his and mirroring his nuzzling gesture, tiny nips mingling with flicks of her tongue, eroding his will.
Put her down.
Take her now.
The twin needs warred for decisive action.
Her sweet lips pressed against his and he fought the urge to open his mouth, to take what she was offering. He dug his fingers into her bottom, jerking her more firmly against him until all that separated them were the damn clothes.
“You should stop.” He told her, disbelieving the words coming out of his mouth. “We should stop.”
“Why?”
Yes, Sam? Why? The internal voice nagged him. His hands were shaped around her sweet, curvy bottom. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, the slight drag of her weight all the sweeter for the way she fit against him.
Snug.
Soft.
Perfect.
“Because your first time with a man shouldn’t be in a cave.” It was, he felt, the most reasonable response to the need roaring through him. It should he firmly believed, be in his bed, where he could strip her at his leisure, explore every silky curve and take her until she screamed.
“Would it be better if I had been with someone else?” Hurt and confusion colored her words. Jealousy, fierce and possessive, stabbed him.
“No.” He closed her mouth with his own before she said anything else foolish. “Don’t say that. Don’t think that.”
She blinked at him, her swollen lips teased him and her cheeks were red from the whiskers. He would leave her raw if he didn’t shave.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, Minx.” Regret sighed through him and he forced himself to ease her away, sliding one hand to her thigh. “Let go now.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
He groaned at the question. She was killing him.
“No, Minx.” Her legs loosened as he urged them apart. Her body slid down his as he set her on her feet, threatening to shatter his dubious sense of control. He cupped her cheek, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb. They were soft, pliant and full.
From his kisses.
His chest threatened to puff out. He wanted to kiss her until she lost all conscious thought. Forgot about anything or anyone else. He had to let her go. He reached up to capture her hands from his hair, cradling them in his between them.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He apologized.
“I didn’t mind.”
Sam closed his eyes.
She really wasn’t helping.
“I know I’m not any good at it, but if you let me practice, I could get better…”
He cut off her words with his hand over her mouth, glaring. “You did nothing wrong. Minx. Dammit.” The jingle of a bridle was his first warning and he cut his gaze away from her.
“Ho the cave!” The cheery voice of his brother carried through the diminishing rain as Micah rode into view, his horse picking its way carefully up the stone slope.
Micah’s trail coat was plastered to him and the brim of his hat flattened around his head, shading the bruise on his face that mirrored Sam’s own. Scarlett made a little sound next to him and then fled, deeper into the cave.
He should have thumped his brother harder.
Chapter Sixteen
It was late afternoon and the clouds peeled back to reveal the sun dipping low on the horizon when Kid aimed his horse northeast. The soggy landscape befitted his mood. Time with Caroline had eased the edge of his resentment. He would have preferred heading back to Dorado, but Cobb had given him letters for his father, which meant a ride to the main house.
Unfortunately that meant seeing his father. Kid let the gelding set his own pace. He was in no hurry. The damp air was cooler, the rain having washed away the heat. If he idled long enough, his father might have left the main house for cards with the men or some other pursuit. Whatever it was his father did when he wasn’t dressing Kid down for wasting his time. If he was truly fortunate, he could leave the letters at the house and steal a bunk for the night, be gone at dawn before his father rose.
He was less than a mile from the main house when he saw the wolf. The beast was huge, sandy colored and very familiar.
Kid frowned.
The soaked wolf padded along at a trot, heading in the direction of the house. Tension corded in his muscles and he tapped his heels to the gelding’s sides, urging him to a canter. Kid freed the rifle from the saddle harness, looping his reins over the pommel. The horse obeyed his leg signals, rapidly overtaking the wolf.
As one, he brought the rifle up and the horse spun, planting itself in front of the wolf. The great beast lifted his head, lips curling back off a set of impressive teeth.
It was the same damn wolf.
“Hold it right there.” He locked his legs, bracing his heels against the stirrups. The rifle rested on his shoulder and he sighted the wolf, but smoothed his finger flat away from the trigger.
They were here for Sam’s redhead.
The wolf growled, a low, rumbling get-the-hell-out-of-my-way noise that had his gelding sidestepping a pace before Kid urged the horse back.
“No. This is the Flying K and you’re not just racing in there.”
Undeterred the beast took a step forward. Kid kept the gun steady.
“The gold has been returned and I informed the marshal.”
The wolf sneezed, a derisive sound.
“Yeah, I know. He wasn’t impressed. But he’s not my father.” The words were even. There were too many children, animals and women on the property to just let the wolf run where it wanted. The wolf eased forward and Kid tightened his grip on the rifle.
“I don’t want to shoot you.” He informed the wolf, who sneezed its derision again. The wolf paused, head lifting, nose quivering against the air. “Yes, you’re close. No, you’re not going to the house. I gave you my word and I meant it. I will tell them.”
He wasn’t sure how he understood the wolf, but he could see the calculation in its hot, yellow eyes. It was pissed. That rage wasn’t going to be eased by a few words and it sure the hell wasn’t turned aside by the rifle.
Kid really didn’t want to shoot the animal, but as huge and beautiful as it was, it was also deadly.
“Just give me a lit
tle…” He didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence, between one blink and the next, the wolf gathered itself and lunged upwards. The horse let out a scream of panic, no amount of training preparing it for the weight of such a predator striking it from above.
The earth rushed up to meet him, driving the air out of his lungs. The gelding raced away, wet grass and mud spraying up from his hooves. Kid stretched out his hand for the rifle that landed a foot away, but paused as teeth filled his vision.
The wolf leaned over him, hot breath washing over his face. The animal vibrated with a low, demanding snarl. He, not it, wanted Scarlett.
“I don’t know where she is, exactly. Sam—the marshal—brought her here to keep her safe from the yahoos in town when I was out hunting your gang.” Kid remained still. The wolf wasn’t wild. He wasn’t entirely sure what the hell it was, but wild or not, it was better not to make it any angrier than it was.
The wolf’s muzzle threatened closer, before the animal trotted over to the gun and picked it up in its teeth. With one toss of his head, he sent the rifle skittering several feet away to thump in the wet earth.
“Can I get up?” He asked, aware that despite its size, it was faster than he was and could just as easily tear out of his throat. The wolf made low sounds, circling him, pacing and finally falling back a step or two. Kid took the permission for what it was and sat up slowly, but he stayed on his ass even as the moisture soaked through his pants.
His chest burned with the movement and he glanced down, unsurprised to see bloody score marks from the wolf’s claws had shredded through his shirt. Blood welled up from the slashes.
So much for the new shirt Mrs. Carson pressed on him before he left.
The wolf scuttled closer, whuffling at the bloody injuries.
“I’ll live,” he answered. The wolf paused, cocking its head to the side. “No, I have no idea why I understand you.”
The animal’s mouth closed and while still impressive, he at least looked less deadly without the teeth bared. Kid winced as he pulled the shirt apart to get a better look at his chest.
One bloody swatch cut down his breastbone to the top of his stomach. Any further and he could have been disemboweled. The wounds wept blood. Stripping the jacket off, he pulled the rest of the shirt free and wadded it up into a ball to press against his chest.
