“That’s it, Maggie mine,” he said, backing to the bed.
She smiled against his lips, touched by the endearment, touched by his patience in this.
Yes, he might not love her with his heart, but he acted as if he cherished her as a lover. He made the moment special. Made her feel special.
They fell onto the bed with her on top of him, straddling his lean hips. His caresses grew bolder and more frenzied, but then so were the odd sounds bubbling up from her.
“You’re ready,” he said, his finger slipping into her.
Desire rippled through her in hot waves. She pressed against him on a hum of pleasure. “For you. Only for you.”
He groaned, shifting again as she came down on him. She threw her head back as she took him into her, holding him there as tightly as he’d held her against him.
“Yes,” he groaned, grasping her hips and guiding her through this new way to love him.
She rode him hard, moving with him yet feeling bold and in charge. She wasn’t naïve about lovemaking now. She realized that each time when she trembled and reached for that final thrum of pleasure, he’d withdrawn from her. She understood he did it to guard against pregnancy.
But to her it smacked of rejection. Just when they were as close as a man and woman could be, he’d denied her that final intimacy.
No more. This time she wanted all of him. This time she wouldn’t be denied. This time she was willing to do anything to achieve that goal.
They strained together, their bodies slick with sweat. She felt the change in his rhythm, the urgency in his touch. Desire began splintering off in brilliant strokes that left every nerve throbbing, every muscle quivering with the force that was bearing down on them locked together.
“Stay with me,” she said, clinging to him.
“Maggie mine,” he groaned, teeth clenched as he tried to hold back what she wanted most.
“Please,” she said, her legs locked on his hips and her eyes begging him to give her this. “Please.”
She tightened around him, and streaks of energy exploded within her. She heard his groan. Felt him plunge deeper into her. Marveled at the hot seed spurting into her that chased away the chill that had persisted in tormenting her.
Before the last tremors shook his big body, she collapsed upon him. She thrilled at the strong heart pounding beneath her ear. She gloried in the knowledge that this moment sang of the freedom she’d been denied all her life.
“We took a helluva risk then,” he said.
“I know, but some things in life are worth the risk.” With her pleasure ebbing, guilt nipped at her again.
Tell him. Tell him now while he’d mellowed. Tell him before he finds out on his own.
“I sent Whit Ramsey a telegram today.”
Eyes that had been drowsy with desire sharpened. “What?”
She swallowed the trepidation stealing over her, leaving her cold and trembling. “I’m tired of running. I want a normal life. I want him to leave me be.”
“And you think he’s going to back off just because you begged him to?”
“Maybe,” she said, and hated the childish note that crept into her voice. “Whit won’t want me if there’s a chance I could be carrying another man’s child.”
She didn’t think his eyes could get any harder or darker, but she was wrong. “You used me to turn Ramsey against you?”
“Yes, but I wanted to make love with you, too. I wanted to feel closer to you. Why can’t you understand?”
He rolled away from her and gave her his back. “Go to sleep, Maggie. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
She curled in a ball and refused to cry. Had she gotten what she wanted only to lose the man she loved?
After four hours in the saddle, Dade could see why nobody in Las Animas knew about Barton. He’d followed the river to where the grassland began to give way to deep arroyos.
If the old wrangler had drawn this map correctly, then they were less than five miles from the Circle DB ranch. He stood in the saddle and took another long careful look at the area.
He saw nothing that would alert him that they were being followed. They were alone. Just him and Maggie and thousands of acres of waist-deep grasslands.
Cattle would get mighty damned fat off this prairie grass. Yet he hadn’t seen evidence of a cow in twenty miles or so.
The old wrangler said Barton had fallen on hard times. Shit, had he nearly lost the ranch? Were they hard-scrap farmers just trying to hold on to what they had?
“We’re almost there,” he said. “You need to take a rest?”
She shook her head, still sitting straight in the saddle and still not meeting his eyes. “I’m fine.”
That was bullshit. She might be tolerating the ride, but she wasn’t fine at all.
They’d had the best damned sex he’d ever had in his life, then she had fessed up what she’d done and ruined it all. Fine time for her to decide to bait the bear.
Not that he blamed her for standing her ground. What annoyed him was that she’d made the decision on her own. She’d cut him out, not even bothering to get his opinion.
“Dade? Did you hear that?” she asked.
He slammed the door on those musings and forced his attention to the here and now. Bells. He heard the distinct clang of a dinner bell.
“What is it?” she asked.
He smiled at his pretty orphan who had all the smarts of a rich girl and none of the glory. “That’s the dinner bell on the nearest ranch. Let’s head that way.”
He held to an easy canter when every nerve in his body screamed at him to ride like thunder to the Circle DB. He damn sure knew better.
Riding onto a spread like that could get him shot. But the main reason was Maggie. He wasn’t about to make her life hell so he’d get to the ranch a few minutes sooner.
They topped a rise, and he reined up as the ranch came into view. It was worse than he’d thought.
There were plenty of pens and corrals, but he only saw a handful of stock. The outbuildings were frame and in serious need of repair.
The adobe house sat low to the ground and blended into the landscape. It looked deserted, yet the dinner bell continued to clang–a discordant sound that echoed for miles and chafed his nerves raw.
“If this is a cattle ranch, where are the cattle?” Maggie asked.
Damned if he knew. “The wrangler I talked to said that Barton had fallen on hard times.”
“Poor Daisy.”
He didn’t want to think how she’d been living. Without a word, he heeled his mount to head out, knowing Maggie’s and the packhorse would follow.
The place didn’t look any more welcoming up close. But the pair of horses in the corral looked well tended. They looked out of place to boot.
He dismounted, his thoughts on his sister. As soon as his boots hit the ground he thought better of it. But Maggie–his sweet Maggie–chose this time to get off her little black mare on her own.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
Dade stepped between the two horses and hemmed her between them. Not ideal cover, but it was the best he could do.
“Damned if I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
She rested one small hand on his back, her fingers flexing like she wanted to crawl under his skin. He wished to hell he could burrow into a hole and drag her in with him.
The unmistakable click of a trigger being hammered back broke the silence. Sonofabitch–he’d walked into a trap.
“Nice of you to bring her to me,” came a voice that scorched his soul like hot coals.
Dade yanked Maggie in front of him and pulled leather as he whirled. But the restive horses’ rumps bumped together and blocked his view of and aim at Allis Carson.
That didn’t stop the bounty hunter. He fired two shots.
Dade’s gelding screamed and took off. Maggie’s mare followed at a gallop. Dade grabbed Maggie’s hand and ran to the house, his revolver barking
lead to give them a minute. But Carson had taken cover behind a dilapidated buckboard and just kept firing.
Dade yanked on the door, but it was locked. Panic welled inside him as he threw his shoulder against the panel. Once. Twice. It shuddered but held tight.
“Kiss your ass good-bye, lawman,” Carson said.
Dade pushed Maggie behind him as he spun around and stared down the barrel of Allis Carson’s six-shooter. Anger and regret collided in a heartbeat.
He was trapped. Dade could get off one shot, but he’d likely take a bullet too.
Carson strode toward him, his gait cocky, his eyes wild with the promise of a kill and the spoils of victory. “Before I kill her, I’m going to enjoy taking her over your dead carcass.”
Damn the bastard to hell and back! He took aim and fired just as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. His Peacemaker clicked. Helluva time for his gun to jam.
Carson spun toward the shadow of movement and emptied his gun, then dropped and rolled. A shotgun boomed to his right, once, then again.
The bounty hunter bowed backward and clutched his thigh, then made a jerky movement forward. Dade knew Carson had been hit, but the bounty hunter still tried to crawl behind the buckboard. He had nearly made it when he suddenly stopped.
Dade stared at him for the longest time, waiting for some sign that confirmed he was still alive. But Carson didn’t move.
An unnatural quiet settled over them, the air thick and acrid from the cloud of gunpowder and spent lead.
Dade tore his eyes off Carson and stared at the shooter. He waited for some emotion to bubble up in him.
Nothing came as he stared at his pa, sprawled on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
“Are they dead?” Maggie whispered behind him, her small hands gripping his sides.
“Don’t know.” He almost said he didn’t care either, but he did care.
Dammit all, this was his pa. A rattlesnake mean outlaw who’d turned his back on Dade years ago.
Countless nights Dade had hoped his pa would return, that he’d apologize for making the biggest mistake of his life. That he’d take Dade and Daisy out of the orphanage and go home.
It never happened. It never would have either.
Yet Clete Logan had put his life before Dade’s today.
Dade ejected the jammed cartridge from his six-shooter and automatically slipped a new one into the chamber, his fingers surprisingly sure.
“Stay here,” he told Maggie.
He slipped off the porch and eased toward the buckboard, his heartbeat striking an erratic beat as he faced the unknown. Allis Carson lay facedown on the ground, blood pooling from the gaping hole in his thigh. Another wound soaked the ground beneath his head.
Dade kicked the bounty hunter’s revolver aside and toed his shoulder. His hat fell to the side and exposed what remained of the man’s head.
Slowly, Dade holstered his gun and walked over to Clete Logan. Judging from the blood soaking his pa’s shirtfront, he expected he’d given up the ghost.
Pale glassy eyes fixed on his. His pa’s mouth moved and Dade was obliged to go down on a knee to hear him.
“Is he dead?” Clete asked.
“Yep.”
Clete swallowed with effort, his gaunt face twisting in a grimace as he did so. “Good. Now I can rest in peace.”
Dade doubted there’d be any peace for the outlaw who’d gunned down innocent men. He stared at the man who’d come here for one revenge and tried to feel something besides pity and disgust. But he couldn’t.
His pa had been tracking Allis Carson for one reason–he’d vowed to kill the man who’d done the same to his outlaw brothers. He’d have done the same no matter who Carson had cornered.
The outlaw let out a choked cough, his eyes an unnatural white now. “Haul my ass into the U.S. Marshal. You might as well collect the reward.”
“Don’t want blood money.”
“Fool. I owe you that and more.”
His pa still didn’t understand that he’d just wanted a parent who gave a damn. No amount of reward money could make up for those lost years.
“Why’d you do it?” he asked. “Why’d you give up your family?”
Clete Logan’s upper lip curled in a mockery of a smile. “Never wanted the responsibility.”
His chest heaved once, then the outlaw went dead still.
Maggie’s hands rested on Dade’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”
He nodded, feeling numb inside. That’s all the emotion he could muster for his pa.
Dade got to his feet and drew Maggie into his arms. He scanned the ranch again and this time hoped it was truly deserted.
“Let’s take a look around,” he said. “I have to make sure Daisy isn’t here.”
She wasn’t. Dade found a back window busted out and crawled inside the house. There wasn’t a stick of furniture or any indication that anyone had lived here in years. Where had Barton gone? How long back? Was Daisy still with him?
“What are you going to do about the dead?” Maggie asked.
“Haul them into the marshal.”
He’d put the reward money to good use, even though it chaffed him to collect it. And the only way those wanted posters would come down was to turn the outlaw in.
“I’m sorry,” Maggie said.
“So am I.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and squinted at the sky. “We’ll head out as soon as I round up our horses and heft Carson and Pa over their saddles.”
“Back to La Junta?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Pueblo. Tavish is working out of there. I trust him to see that Clete Logan is finally put to rest. We’ll stay there overnight, then take the eastbound train to St. Louis.”
She stiffened in his arms. “What about your search for Daisy?”
“It could take months for me to find out what happened to Barton.” If he was lucky. “I promised I’d see you to St. Louis–”
“I’m going back to Placid.” She slipped out of his arms and he felt the distance yawn between them. “I have to make Whit understand that I won’t be the pawn in his dealings with Harlan Nowell. If I don’t, I’ll be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life, wondering if either man has hired another bounty hunter to haul me back to Burland.”
He didn’t like the idea of her confronting Ramsey, but she was right. Neither of them could look to the future until they’d buried the ghosts of their pasts.
“All right,” he said. “But I’m going with you.”
She smiled, and something warm expanded in his chest to thaw the ice surrounding his heart. “I hoped you’d say that.”
Yep, the death of the Logan Gang freed him from being linked to outlaws. In time their names would be forgotten.
Then there was Daisy to fret over. Somewhere out there he had a sister who didn’t even remember him. A sister that he feared he would have the devil’s time finding.
But if Miss Jennean was right, he still had unfinished business with Reid Barclay. He had to settle that before he could forge a future.
With Maggie?
God knew he wanted her. He couldn’t think of living without her. But he didn’t know if she felt the same, and now wasn’t the time to ask.
Chapter 23
A hanging was the only thing that drew a bigger crowd than the arrival of a man leading horses with lifeless forms draped over their saddles. Folks knew the dead had to be outlaws, and speculation ran wild about who’d finally met his fate and who’d gunned them down.
Dade was mighty glad that a deputy was on hand to watch over the dead. He ushered Maggie into the U.S. Marshal’s Office and straight into Tavish’s path.
“Who’d you bring in?” Tavish asked.
“Clete Logan and Allis Carson.” Dade went on to explain what had happened on the Circle DB, leaving nothing out.
“I figured it was just a matter of time before the two of them drew on each other.” Tavish crossed to his desk, wrote out a vouche
r and handed it to Dade. “On behalf of the United States Marshal’s Service, I thank you for upholding the law and bringing in a criminal. You can claim your reward at the bank.”
Dade folded the voucher and slipped it into his vest pocket. He had enough money now to buy a nice spread and settle down.
For the first time in his life he’d found a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving. But he hesitated to ask for her hand.
Oh, she’d told him she loved him. But could a city girl be content to be a rancher’s wife? Would she one day resent that she’d given up her dream to follow his?
Those doubts were more than enough to keep him from proposing to her. He’d waited this long to find her. He could wait a bit longer until he was sure their dreams would mesh and not collide.
Maggie flicked a glance at Dade as the train rattled over the tracks toward Placid. He’d been withdrawn ever since the shootout.
Then when they’d made love last night at the hotel, he’d held her long into the night, as if he did not want to let her go. If she just knew what was on his mind...
Though she longed to comfort him, she sensed he wouldn’t accept it readily. So she left him alone to come to grips with his grief and silently fretted about what today would bring.
The train pulled in to Placid thirty minutes late, and Dade and Maggie were the only ones to get off. While he saw to the horses and their bags, she crossed to the window to see if Whit had responded to her telegram.
“Nothing came over the wire,” the railroad agent said. “But a gentleman left this letter here for you.”
She tore it open with trembling fingers and quickly read the message.
We need to talk. I’ve taken a room at Gant’s
boardinghouse. Respectfully, W. R.
Maggie closed her eyes and gave in to a shiver of pure fear. Dear God, Whit was here waiting for her.
“You all right, Miss Logan?” the agent asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She looked out the window at Dade who was waiting impatiently for the horses to be unloaded. “Tell Dade I went to Mrs. Gant’s.”
In a Cowboy’s Arms Page 30
