by Linda Broday
Jack filled her senses and put them into overload. She laid a hand on his jaw and gave herself over to the chaos he’d set free inside her.
She heard Ridge’s voice as though from a distance. “That’s enough, Jack. Save some of that for later.”
Heat swept into Nora’s cheeks. Finally, he released her, totally unapologetic.
“Oh my stars, Jack!” Nora patted her hair, hoping her cheeks weren’t scarlet.
“Toss the bouquet!” someone hollered.
She turned her back and threw the wildflowers over her shoulder. A woman’s squeal filled the air, and Nora turned to see Rebel holding the bouquet, and she seemed happy for once. Nora just prayed her new friend would get a chance to marry Travis one day.
“Lucky catch!” Susan called.
Tally stepped forward. “Everyone’s invited for cake, and then my darling husband, Clay, is going to signal for Dallas to get out his fiddle. We’ve got some dancing to do.”
Nora clutched Jack’s arm. “I don’t dance.”
He grinned. “Makes two of us. We’ll just stand in one spot and sway to the music. Easy.”
“I hope so. Will we have to stay long?”
“Nope. One song and we can go home. We have some celebrating to do tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Just you and me. We have a slew of new memories to make.”
Nora laughed. Whatever he had planned, she was all for it. Folks gathered around and pushed them toward the cake. Susan had made them a masterpiece. It was designed like the town, complete with the corral and windmill. She’d never seen anything so beautiful. Sawyer planted himself right in front of the table and got the first piece.
There was so much laughter that Nora’s sides hurt. Yet despite the jokes and laughter as the afternoon progressed, tears lurked beneath the surface. She and Jack put on brave faces, but trouble lay beneath it all.
Frayed nerves took a toll on her. But when the posse got enough men together to come, then what?
To her mind, Jack’s best hope was to disguise his appearance. But how? It would have to be more than getting him out of his customary black clothing. Lots more. Maybe an eye patch and make him walk with a cane.
Nothing more came to mind. She slipped away from the party and went to check on Willow, in Dr. Mary’s care.
“You’re just in time to feed her,” the doctor said when Nora entered the medical office.
“That’s good. I need to hold her a bit. I missed her at the festivities. Families need to be together at important times like that.”
“I agree.” Dr. Mary handed her a warmed bottle.
Nora held Willow to her heart for a long moment, soaking up the feel of the little warm body.
How would she be able to give her up if her family arrived one day?
She kissed Willow’s cheek and put the bottle nipple into her bow-like mouth. Dr. Mary bustled around the office, putting things away and straightening.
“Doctor, I’ve been trying to think of a disguise for Jack so that the lawmen won’t recognize him when they come. Have you ever used yellow dye to any success?”
“For fabric, yes.” Dr. Mary turned. “Elderberry, sage, or goldenrod make the best yellow dyes, but you need to add alum or tin to give them staying power or else the dye’ll wash right out. What are you thinking of dying?”
“Jack’s hair.”
Twenty-seven
Dr. Mary chuckled. “Does Jack know about this hair color change?”
Nora winced. “No, and he’s going to dig in his heels at the first word.” Frankly, he was liable to do worse than that.
“What are you thinking? Tie him down? Chain him up? Might be best to get some big, strapping men to hold him.”
Nora pursed her lips in thought. “I won’t force him, even though I wish I could. This has to be his decision, but I think if it comes down to either dying his hair or going to prison, he’ll choose wisely. At least I’m hoping he won’t kill me for suggesting it.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to dye his hair yellow.”
Nora glanced at her silver wedding band that shone in the light. “Yes. I think he might look even more handsome with light hair. Don’t you?”
“Nora, Jack is a handsome man and will still be no matter what color his hair. What you need is to bleach it. I have a recipe, along with the ingredients of diluted barium, potassium hypochlorite, and lemon juice.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Keep it off his skin though.” Dr. Mary’s eyes twinkled. “Worth a try. Should be interesting.”
That wasn’t exactly the word Nora would use.
Excitement swept through her now that she knew it could be possible. “We need to do it right away. Today, if there’s time. I’ll have to talk to Jack first.” Nora grimaced. “If you hear a loud explosion, you’ll know why.”
* * *
“You want me to do what!” Jack thundered. Nora had caught him in front of their home, where he’d gone to change clothes. He’d never heard such a harebrained idea. He liked his hair brown. Always had. He was used to looking at that man in the mirror.
“Listen to reason, Jack. Don’t you think it makes a lot more sense than trying to shoot your way free?” Nora put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know how you can be so hardheaded. Do you want to die? Is that it? Do you have some kind of death wish because you don’t think you deserve to live?”
“Of course I don’t have a death wish. How can you even ask such?” Jack spun around to Clay and Ridge. “Did you put her up to this?”
“Nope.” Clay laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Just think about it. Assuming a new identity solves everything with no bloodshed. You have the marshal’s badge and won’t look anything like yourself. You can be whoever you want.”
Ridge spoke up. “In fact, I can’t picture you with blond hair. Grow yourself a longer beard, and I probably wouldn’t know you myself, and we’ve ridden together for over six years.”
Jack yanked off his hat and shoved a hand through his hair. Hell!
Sawyer angrily pushed past Clay and Ridge. Jack had noticed the boy standing silent, listening to the conversation; now he faced Jack. “If you don’t at least try, you’ll never know. Don’t you care enough to live for us? I need you, Jack. Don’t you see? Willow and Nora need you too.”
Nora put an arm around the boy. “Come, let’s leave him to stew in peace.”
Guilt skewered Jack’s chest as they turned dejectedly to the door of the house. “Wait. All right, but nothing says I have to like it.”
“At least you didn’t start counting, so that’s a good sign. I’m going to get out of my finery. I’ll only be a minute.” Nora paused. “Jack, I’m glad I married you before you bleached your hair.”
“Why’s that?”
Nora shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to marry a stranger.”
He chuckled. “Don’t be long.”
Clay called, “The dance will start in twenty minutes.” Then he and Ridge strode toward the men’s gathering spot.
“They’re probably going to discuss my yellow hair,” Jack murmured sourly to himself.
He had to agree that it would be a pretty good disguise. He couldn’t wait to see the look on that sheriff’s face. Now, what name did he want? The world was wide open to possibilities. He could take his father’s name of Orin. Nope. He’d rather meet the hangman’s rope. He thought of all the men he’d known and admired over the years—Johnny Coyote, Joe Moody, Tim Shephard, Joe Long.
Everything stilled inside. He’d stood at Joe Long’s side when three bullets felled him in Wichita, Kansas. He and Joe had signed on as drovers, taking cattle up the trail for old man Fancher. They were dirty, bone tired, and thirsty when they finally put that thousand-strong herd into the large corral in Wichita, so he and Joe’d decided to head for the saloon. Joe never
made it inside. He died on the boardwalk at the hands of an old enemy. Jack had drawn and fired but it had been too late.
Jack ground his back teeth together. At least he’d killed the bastard. Never knew his name. Didn’t matter.
Yes, he’d be Joe Long. Marshal Joe Long. His friend would’ve found that amusing.
* * *
Around three that afternoon, Jack pulled Nora into his arms. Dallas Hawk’s song made the melancholy brought by his memories even worse.
“What’s wrong?” Nora stared up into his eyes. “You seem so far away.”
He breathed in the scent of the fragrant soap she’d used and held her tighter. “Nothing but old ghosts circling. I’ll be fine.”
Nora glanced up, her doe eyes shimmering. “Is it the thought of having light hair? If so, you don’t have to do it. We can think of something else.”
“It’s not that. Memories of a friend hit me while I was trying to decide on my new name, and I can’t seem to shake the sadness, that’s all.”
“They say that as long as you remember someone, they’re not really dead,” she said softly. “What was his name?”
“Joe Long.”
“And you decided to take his identity?”
“Yep.” Jack blew out a long breath. “I think he’d like me being him.”
Sawyer copied them and danced in place with Violet, his arm protectively around her. Both kids were grinning, too young to know that love took time. Violet was running a hand across his face, familiarizing herself with Sawyer’s features.
Jack ached for both of them and everything they’d lost. He drew Nora closer.
Nora wound a strand of his hair around her finger. “I’ll have to get used to calling you Joe. I hope I don’t mess up and call you Jack in front of a lawman. And we’ll have to be sure and tell everyone here in town.”
“No, keep this to yourself for now.” Just in case the town did have a traitor. Jack placed his mouth beside her ear. “I’m proud to be your husband, no matter what name I use. You make my life worth living and I don’t want to spend one day away from you, Mrs. Long.”
Nora laughed. “I’m changing names faster than bullets from a Gatling gun. From Kane to Bowdre to Long, and just when I was getting used to Nora Bowdre. If I go by Nora B. Long, I could be-long to you, Jack.”
“You do anyway. No matter what name you use, you’re mine, lady.”
“I do like a man who knows what he wants.” She twirled his hair around her finger.
Her mouth drew him like a beacon on a dark sea. He lowered his head. The second their lips met, he couldn’t have told anyone what his name was, even if they’d held a loaded gun on him.
She melted against him, one hand gripping his vest while the other played with his hair. He ran a hand down her curves to her waist, where her hips flared.
The kiss held desire and the kind of heat that soldered metals. She opened her mouth, her tongue softly lashing his. It was almost his undoing. If he didn’t get her home and undressed soon, he’d explode.
“You make me crazy, Nora. I have this chaos inside threatening to burn me alive, and then I look at you and everything smooths out.”
“Jack, you say the sweetest things. I know I make you frustrated enough to count, so it’s good to know I can bring you calm as well.”
“And peace. Desire. Passion.”
Her cheeks turned a rosy pink. “Jack, thank you for my ring. I hadn’t expected that. The band is simple yet beautiful, just what I would’ve picked.”
“I saw it in our little mercantile and thought it looked like you. We could’ve waited on that, but I wanted to make sure everyone knows you belong to me.”
“Foolish man,” she said softly. “You don’t need a ring for that.”
The music stopped and Jack took her hand. “Let’s go.”
Some of the men blocked their path, asking to dance with Nora.
Jack held up his hand. “Not this time, boys. Tonight, she’s all mine.”
He swept her into his arms and lengthened his limping gait. At the house, she reached for the doorknob, and he carried her across the threshold and up the stairs to their bedroom.
“Put me down, Jack. I can walk.”
“I know.” He kicked the door closed and set her down. Turning her around, he began the task of undoing all the tiny buttons. For two cents, he’d rip the dress off her, but since she had so few nice things, he took his time.
Finally, the dress yielded, and soon her undergarments and shoes joined it on the floor. He laid her on the bed, worshipping her with his eyes, thankful for daylight spilling in the window that let him see her clearly. Desire for her made him tremble. He hurried to remove his clothing.
Jack lay next to her, propped on an elbow. He ran a finger lightly across one cheek. “I don’t deserve you, Nora Kane. Lord knows you could find a better husband, but you’ll never get one who loves you more than me.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I love you.”
Her eyes widened and her breath came uneven. “You just said—”
“That I love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it when you did. I had to accept in my head that I could love another woman first. When I sent for you, I wasn’t prepared to give my heart. It still belonged to Rachel and I felt I would betray her.”
“What changed?”
“The night finally got dark enough to see the stars. I remembered something she once told me, and I knew she wanted me to love again.”
“What did you expect of our marriage if not to love each other?” she asked softly.
“To fill the god-awful loneliness. Give me a family again, some reason to live.” Jack traced the outline of her lips, her jaw. “I found out that it was impossible not to give my heart and that terrified me. Loving someone brings a lot of responsibility with it.”
“But now?” Her words came out breathless.
“Now, I’m certain that I never want to try living without you. Whatever problems come our way, we’ll face together. And when they put me in the ground, I’ll know I loved the best, the smartest, most bighearted woman on God’s earth.”
“Kiss me, Jack.” Love smoldered in her twinkling brown eyes.
His mouth covered hers, the kiss burning with a fiery possession, full of admiration, respect, and passion for the woman who lit up his world.
Nora had his heart—every single piece of it.
The kiss deepened, and he ran his hands down her generous body. He meant to love her as he’d never loved anyone.
When they ran out of air, she pushed him onto his back and left a trail of kisses across his chest, stomach, and below. Every feathery touch of her hands and mouth wound him tight, his patience stretched.
Surprise swept through him when she straddled his hips, her bold gaze raking his body, desire flaming in her eyes. Excitement surged as he reached for her breasts. Every chord, every muscle tightened, straining to fulfill the demanding ache.
He had no desire for teasing this time. This time he wanted it hard and fast, and Nora seemed to want it too. She appeared different, and her newfound confidence fired his blood.
In a swift move, he rolled her over and settled himself on top. One thrust put him inside with her muscles clenching around him. Holding. Drawing him deeper.
Giving.
Taking.
Needing.
Oh God, he couldn’t live without Nora.
Her heart raced and her breath hitched. She gave a cry and fell into his frenzied rhythm, her hands clawing at his back, pulling him into her heat.
The climb was swift, and he let the pleasure carry him higher and higher. He shuddered and held on, sparks shattering around him like colorful Chinese fireworks.
Nora gasped and arched her body. Jack held her to him as she took her enjoyment, then rolled off, limp and spent.
“I think you’re going to stop my heart, lady.”
Her breath ragged, she turned on her side. “Complaints, dear husband?”
“Not even one.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “I’m a very fortunate man. Back in the cave when you were smacking that poor rat with your shoe, I knew you’d have passion. You’re all in, one hundred percent with everything you do, and I love that.”
He just prayed she’d see reason when the posse came and not get in the thick of things.
“And when you milked that cow and let me have the first drink, I knew right then that you were a true gentleman—even though you looked anything but.” A long, comfortable silence fell over them. She plied him with kisses, his nose filling with the sweet fragrance he’d come to love.
“You keep doing that and you’ll see my scoundrel side, lady.” He nuzzled her neck and across her collarbone.
“Is that a threat?”
He nibbled her fingertips. “Nope. A promise.”
Nora tugged her hand from him. “As much as I hate ending this, are you ready to become Joe Long?”
Jack groaned. Hell!
* * *
Late afternoon, Nora made her way to Dr. Mary’s office, still wondering about the bright-yellow paint around the bottom of the building. So once she got inside, she asked.
Dr. Mary chuckled. “Yes, Violet and the Carver children painted it one day to take their minds off a shooting in the town.”
“A shooting?”
“Some drunken blowhard rode in from Mobeetie and Clay had no choice but to shoot him. Then they had to bury the man.”
“Does this happen often?”
“No. That only made the second time since I came.” Dr. Mary pulled her pipe from her pocket. “But that’s the story of the yellow paint. I’ve been meaning to finish the job but never got around to it.”
Nora collected the mixture the doctor had already prepared. “Don’t get this in Jack’s eyes. Make a thick paste with flour. Leave it on for thirty minutes, no more.”
