He reached her in a few strokes, dipping under the water, his denim pants heavy against his legs, before popping up in front of her. She hooted at his antics and he felt just like that boy who played with her in the creek so many years ago. He’d never been carefree as a youngster, not with what had been going on at his house, but when he’d been with Kate playing in the creek or running in the woods, it had been the closest he had come to that state of mind, then or since.
He tried not to notice the damp tresses that clung to her face, tried not to see the little beads of water that settled on her long eyelashes, or the drops that kissed her lips like he wanted to. He tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t--just like the cool water hadn’t stopped the pulsing between his legs. He gently touched her shoulders, the branch holding her for his taking.
Kate had her lips tilted toward him, her breasts pushing out under her chemise, with nipples begging for his touch like some kind of offering. His shaft throbbed, pleading with his mind to take what she was giving.
This was the last time he’d see her, touch her, feel her. He silently cursed his helplessness.
His mouth swept over hers and he tasted her honeyed lips, caressing the softness of her wet tongue. Need gripped tighter as he ran his hands down her damp back. He pressed her to him and she wrapped her arms around his waist like a warm blanket on a cold day.
He kissed her, deep and hot, and his hands moved over her smooth, satiny skin. His fingers found the branch and eased the fabric from it while he kissed her again and again, tasting the cool water and her sweet lips.
He palmed her breasts and rubbed her hardened nipple until she moaned against his mouth. God she was passionate, with a body built for making a man happy. Melding to him, she rubbed against the fabric of his trousers. Tremors of pure pleasure surged through him.
He whispered her name as he searched for the forbidden entrance between her thighs until he touched the soft mound where he was sure no man had ever ventured. She sighed into his mouth but didn’t break away. He wanted more, needed more, and she was going to let him have more.
“Make me yours, Cole,” she whispered.
It was if something snapped in his mind. He released her so swiftly she almost tumbled. He couldn’t do it. She deserved more, better.
“No.” Not trusting himself to keep the promise of that word, Cole turned and waded for shore, not certain what he’d do when they both reached land.
Dripping water, his bare feet crunching over pine cones, branches, and rocks, he headed for his horse and the blanket attached to the back of his saddle. It wasn’t the cleanest blanket but it would at least keep her covered, keep the sight of her wet and willing body from his gaze.
When he turned back, she stood on the bank, water running down her chemise and pantalets, the fabric clinging to her so that nothing was left to the imagination. He swallowed hard and tried to pull his gaze from all that shapely flesh she was showing but it was a losing battle.
“Like what you see?”
That jerked his head up for a glimpse of the provocative smile on her lips.
“You know I do.”
“Show me.”
He’d like to. But he couldn’t. Kate deserved better than a tumble on dry pine needles like some floozy from the Red Bull. She deserved better than him. And she knew it. It was why she had felt she needed to sneak out to see him. And knowing he wasn’t good enough was the only thing keeping him from answering her invitation.
Instead, he steeled himself and walked the short distance, blanket stretched between his hands.
When he reached her, he wrapped it and his arms around her. He needed to hold her. One last time. He kissed her damp hair and willed himself to keep breathing. Unfortunately his own body was shivering, though not from the cold, but from the sheer force of will he was exerting.
“Let’s sit a spell and dry off,” he finally said when he thought his voice wouldn’t fail him.
At least with the faded blanket wrapped around her, he wouldn’t be as tempted. It would, however, be a while before the ache between his legs left. A while before either of them would be dry enough to go their separate ways.
They settled on the blanket where they had eaten. She sat across from him sitting cross-legged, his blanket wrapped around her, covering those breasts, but still revealing the shape of her beautiful legs under those pantalets. Warm blue eyes stared back at him, watching him as if she expected some sign.
“Do you want to be a bounty hunter?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them.
“What I want doesn’t matter.” He kept his voice even, intending to be honest with her. Now was not the time to let her see the turmoil his emotions were in. “But someday soon I’d like to see about raising horses, maybe out in Montana or Idaho Territory where they’re running wild.”
Her eyes widened.
“Too far for you, Kate.” He reached for her hand. This was, after all, the final time he’d be seeing her. He didn’t want his last memory to be filled with angry words. “I’m trying to do an honorable thing for once in my sorry life.”
“You don’t think you’re honorable?” Her face was crinkled in a frown.
“No, it’s you who doesn’t think I’m honorable.” If she looked like he’d just slapped her, well, the truth hurt sometimes. And he needed her to recognize the truth. “If you did, you’d have invited me to the house to court you proper instead of sneaking out to meet me in the woods like I’m some kind of criminal. Like you’re ashamed of me.”
“To the house? Would you have come?”
“Of course I would have come.” He scoffed. “I’m not afraid of Will Flanders. I’m not afraid of anyone, Kate.” Except her and the feelings she stirred in him.
“I’m not ashamed of you, Cole. Really I’m not. I never thought…well I’m sorry if I made you feel I was.” Her eyes held sincerity as she pulled the blanket tighter as if needing comfort.
“But you’re not proud of me either.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to bide time to find some way to say what he had to say. “And I don’t blame you.”
“I am,” she pleaded in a voice asking him to believe her. “You’ve survived what would have broken others. Instead, it’s made you stronger. And I do love you, Cole.”
“Love me? Or pity me?” A lump formed in his throat at the importance of her answer.
“Love you.”
“But not enough to walk down the street at my side. Not enough to leave with me even if I have to be a bounty hunter a while longer. Not enough to leave your father.”
The words hung in the air. Cole waited, but he knew the answers to those questions. And so did she.
“Just as I thought.” Cole pushed down the sorrow rising through him, through his heart. He had no right to feel regretful that she was doing what he knew she had to do. The pain in his chest would ease in a couple of days—maybe weeks. But it would fade.
“No, not just as you thought,” she said, her tone clipped. “I’ll walk down the street with you right now and show you there is no reason you have to leave this town. Maybe you’ve got to love yourself, Cole, before you can believe that someone loves you. And maybe you’ve got to forgive yourself before you can expect the people of this town to forgive you.”
What the hell was she talking about? Forgive himself? Love himself? Before he could reply, his horse whinnied.
Cole jerked his gaze around to the trail. Someone was coming and coming in fast. With a lightening reaction that had allowed him to survive in his line of work, he reached for his gun and holster and had it strapped to his waist well before the bay gelding with the familiar rider had pulled to a stop.
Will Flanders sat on his horse with a rifle cocked and an expression as hard as stone.
“You liver-bellied, one-eyed mule of a sinner!”
“Daddy!” Kate yelled to stop her father as she gripped the blanket around her. She knew she had played with fire setting this confrontation
in motion. She had to be sure no one got hurt.
Her father’s wild-eyed gaze shifted a fraction to take her in, but his eyes were still on Cole who stood rigid and alert, ready for action.
“Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot the bastard here and now and be done with it,” her father spat out.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw Cole’s hand hovering over his gun. Without hesitation, she slid in front of Cole and faced down the angry beast that was her father. She’d known violence was a possibility. Her ace card was that both these men cared about her, and she aimed to play it.
“I love him.”
“And nothing happened.” Cole’s voice was low and ominous. It held a warning she knew her father, given his state of mind, would not heed.
“Like hell nothing happened. You’re both undressed. Alone. And looking like the kids who just stole a cherry pie.”
“Tell him Kate,” Cole ordered.
She may not have gotten Cole to bed her, but these circumstances would do just as well.
“I’ll tell him that I’m going to marry you,” she said, still staring straight ahead at her father.
“Marry?” The word came out of Cole and her father’s mouths almost simultaneously, like two hawks screeching for the same mouse.
Her father lowered his rifle and stared at her as if she was out of her mind. Kate didn’t dare turn around and face Cole.
“I’m a ruined woman no matter what the truth is.” She held her voice calm and impassive. She was playing for high stakes and, though she’d never played poker, she’d watched her father bluff more than one poor cowhand out of his wages.
“Now wait a minute…” Both men were sounding like echoes of one another. If her future wasn’t depending on it, she’d be inclined to have a good laugh.
“And I want a real wedding. With the whole town invited. I’m not going to have it look like I’m ashamed to marry Cole Turner,” she continued waving her hand for emphasis.
“Kate, I ain’t proposing.” Cole’s voice was edged in anger. She whirled around. The fury wasn’t just in his voice; it was etched in every frown line of his face.
“Well, I am,” she declared.
“We’ve been through all this. I haven’t changed my mind.”
“You’re refusing my girl?” Her father slid down off his horse and puffed himself up like a bull frog, weapon in hand.
“Yes. She can’t marry a man she’s not proud of, doesn’t respect. Who’s always on the move, and leaving this territory for good.”
“My feelings exactly,” her father said, satisfaction riding his face. “Go then if you’re leaving.” He waved the rifle toward the trail.
This wasn’t going as she planned. Her father was supposed to make Cole marry her. She’d been caught in her pantalets and chemise with a man, for goodness sakes.
“He can’t go. I may be carrying his child. Your grandchild.”
“She’s lying” Cole yelled as her father’s rifle was once again aimed at Cole’s gut. Kate held her place. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, but neither of them was acting like they were supposed to and she was desperate.
“You said nothing happened,” her father challenged.
“Nothing did,” Cole answered.
“Well, unless there’s something you know that I don’t, babies don’t get made unless something damn well happens.”
“She’s lying so you’ll force me to marry her.” Cole shifted his focus to Kate, his body rigid. “Is that what you want? A man you tricked into marrying you? A man you’re so ashamed of you can’t let him court you outright? A man who isn’t sticking around for any reason?”
Kate closed her eyes, trying to block out the feelings those words brought. She was running out of time to make things right.
Her father’s voice caused her to open them again. “So help me, if you got her with child and you skip out, Cole Turner, you’ll prove you’re no better than your old man.”
Kate screamed as Cole drew his gun in a lightning-fast response to her father’s taunt.
“I ought to shoot you for what you’re thinking, old man. She’s not carrying my child. I didn’t take advantage of her and I’m not going to be forced into marrying her.”
Both men were now aiming their weapons at each other. She knew the only thing that had prevented them from firing at one another was her standing between them.
“Stop, both of you.” She flung out her arms, the blanket dropping to the ground. She hadn’t expected Cole to fight against making her his wife. She thought only her father stood in their way. But she’d learned today a lot more was blocking their path to a life together than she’d imagined.
Maybe he was right. Maybe she had been ashamed of him. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to invite him home. To make her father accept him. And she’d never thought of having to leave Three Bridges to have Cole. She’d thought Three Bridges would be a safe haven for him, someplace they could settle.
Tears pooled in her eyes. She’d made a mess of everything. She’d tried to trap Cole into marriage and her father into agreeing to it, and all she’d gotten for her trouble was a broken heart and the knowledge that she’d failed on all counts.
“Put down your guns. I’m going home. Nothing happened but a swim.” She could barely see through her tears, but she didn’t dare move until they both lowered their weapons.
“Not like that, you aren’t. You ain’t decent. Put your clothes on,” her father snapped. “And you,” he motioned to Cole with the rifle, “turn around and get out of here before my temper snaps.”
“I ain’t running on your say so, Will Flanders.” Cole stood there, legs splayed apart, gun at the ready, back straight.
Feeling the exhaustion of defeat, Kate took one step toward the pile of her clothes and the air rang with the release of a bullet.
Instantly, Cole’s strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her hard to his side. Together, they dropped to the ground. He rolled her under him in one fluid motion, pinning her. Her father was down, too, and both men were aiming their guns at the trail, waiting.
“Who the hell is that?” Her father huffed.
“Don’t know,” Cole said, but the tone of his voice said he might.
“What are you doing on top of my daughter?” her father ground out, but his eyes never left the trail.
“Protecting her—which should be obvious, Flanders,” Cole retorted.
“What’s obvious is…..”
“Stop it. Someone is shooting at us,” Kate hissed out the words, hoping some sense would make its way into the men’s thick skulls.
Another shot came in, not finding a target.
“He’s holed up by that pine tree, I’ll wager.” Cole’s hard body was pressed to hers. He felt hot, solid, and all male.
Here she was being shot at, and all she could think about was how good it felt to be under him.
“You all right, Kate?” The brush of his lips was warm on her temple. Her heart fluttered at the simple gesture.
“Yes.”
“Not too heavy for you?” His eyes stayed fixed on the pine tree.
“No.” Kate said, her nose touching the ground, breathing in the dusty scent of the earth.
Another shot blistered through the air.
“You yellow, Turner? Now that you don’t have your posse with you?” a deep masculine voice called.
“Friend of yours?” her father asked.
“More likely the rustler that got away--the stupid fool.” Cole shifted to settle over her as he called his answer to the gunman. “You’ve been smarter than the rest—up till now.”
“I’m still smart. I need a horse and I’m thinking I’ve got three right here to choose from.”
“Give me your rifle, Flanders,” Cole muttered and held out his hand.
“What?”
“Your rifle. I can’t shoot that far with my gun.”
“You think I’m crazy? You’ll try to take Kate with you.”<
br />
Cole scoffed. “Your rifle isn’t preventing me from doing that. If I wanted to I would. But I don’t. Which I’ve made perfectly clear.”
Kate felt the sting of his remark as if a hundred bees had left their calling card.
Her father handed over the rifle and pulled out the gun on his hip to replace it.
“You’re going to kill him,” her father said as if reciting a fact.
In that single sentence, Kate felt the agony of Cole’s life. This is what he lived with every day of his existence. The sensitive, kind young man she’d known had been forced to kill over and over again to survive.
Cole called out to the rustler. “You can give yourself up now. It will go easier on you.”
“Not likely. I’m just a few steps from taking your horse and high-tailing it out of here.”
“I’ll track you down.”
“Guess I didn’t mention I’d be killing you and everybody with you first.”
Cole sighted the rifle, the butt resting on his shoulder.
“You got a bead on him?” Will asked.
“I’ve got him. He’s aiming at us from the right side of the pine. I’ll give him one last chance though.” Cole raised his head and called out, “Drop your gun!”
“Like hell I will.”
Cole’s bullet cracked through the air.
“Son of a …..!” A string of curse words exploded from the rustler along with a clattering sound Kate could only hope was the rustler’s gun hitting the ground.
“There’s more where that came from. Give yourself up and they’ll go easier on you.”
“I’m bleeding. Shit. You nearly blew my hand off. I’m bleeding.” The man’s frantic cries filled the woodland.
“Come out with your hands up.” Cole’s voice was deadly calm, but Kate could feel his heart pounding.
Cole reloaded. There was no response and no movement. Cole released the trigger and the shot zinged through the air.
A string of curse words came from the pine. Suddenly a man walked out, bloodied hands palm out. “You nearly blew off my toes, you one-eyed snake. Don’t shoot. I’m not dying over some cows,” he called out.
Saving Cole Turner Page 5
