Whispers on the Wind

by Brenda Jernigan

  It was a darn good thing she wasn’t attracted to him or she’d be in real trouble.

  Carter loomed over her as he reached two shelves up to extract a fat brown book. His body was pressed against hers, causing shivers of excitement to run up and down her spine, and an even more terrifying realization washed over Mary—she had been lying to herself, for she was very attracted to this man.

  She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, and if she turned just so, she had no doubt that she’d be able to feel his lips.

  Oh God, the temptation.

  As soon as she’d thought about turning, Carter stepped back, and Mary was dismayed at the loss of his heat burning against her—and at the magnitude of her desire. She wanted to yield to the burning sweetness she’d felt by his mere touch. She wasn’t sure why. She didn’t care anything about the man, she told herself. Surely, this attraction must be mere curiosity. But curiosity could get her into more trouble than she was already in.

  She had to control herself. So she drew a deep breath for courage and turned.

  The expression in Carter’s eyes was so galvanizing that it sent a tremor through her. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, saying nothing.

  What would it be like to be kissed by Carter? To feel his lips on her neck? She wondered as Carter’s dark eyes held her. She wasn’t sure what to do or say, but someone had to say something.

  Mary thought she’d seen something very inviting in Carter’s gaze. Too inviting, and considering the strange way she felt at this moment, it was better that she not accept his invitation. “Th-thank you for getting the book for me,” Mary finally managed to get out

  But invitation to what? She didn’t know.

  “No problem,” he said in a voice that sounded as raspy and strained as her own. “Are you going to your room now?”

  “I—if it’s all right, I’d like to stay here and read until I get sleepy.”

  “Help yourself,” Carter replied as he turned to go. “I’m going to get some shut-eye. See you in the morning.”

  After Carter left, Mary had to take several deep breaths just to regain her composure. She wasn’t certain what had just happened between them, but it was something she’d never experienced with anyone else. It was almost frightening—like she’d been caught in an erratic summer storm.

  Finally, Mary snapped to and took her book to the couch. She placed several pillows on the end, plumped them, then settled down with a small sigh into the comfort of the goose down pillows.

  It sure beat a seat in a covered wagon. Mary closed her eyes and thought back for a moment There had been days she’d believed she’d never get off that wagon, and as she thought back she realized that time had actually been one of the more interesting in her life.

  Mary shivered in the chill of the big, empty room, so she slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet under her on the couch, then pulled the cream- colored afghan over her. The fleecy blanket warmed her, and she wondered what it would have felt like to have Carter tuck that afghan around her.

  The fire crackled in the fireplace, and somewhere in the hallway a grandfather clocked chimed at the same time as the clock over the mantel announced the hour. She counted each chime. It was ten o’clock, and aside from the clocks, the rest of the house was quiet. She assumed that the servants had gone to bed, too.

  She thought back. She really couldn’t remember when she’d ever been completely alone, except maybe when she’d been with her mother. When her mother had entertained gentleman callers, Mary had been forced to stay in the kitchen. She’d had one small corner that was all her own. Several patched quilts were placed on the floor and that was where she played with her imaginary friends until she got sleepy. Those blankets had been her world for a long time. She could remember grabbing the satin edge of one of the blankets and rubbing it between her fingers until she fell asleep.

  Mary shook her head to dislodge the memory. That was the past. Looking around the room, she had to think that things could only get better.

  Opening the book, Mary began to read page after page, trying to engross herself in the crisp black words on the yellowish paper, but after a while she gave up. Her mind had too many thoughts running through it to concentrate on the story. Finally, she rested the book on her chest and leaned her head back against the fluffy pillows.

  Here she was lounging in comfort while Big Jim was dead. She felt bad that she wasn’t any closer to figuring out what had happened than she had been several days ago. She’d been so confused ever since she’d awakened in the arms of the marshal.

  Now that was something she could write a book about—waking in the arms of a strange cowboy.

  What made the marshal tick? Mary wondered. She had learned that he was a man of principle, but would he ever consider compromising? Could he ever look the other way and not arrest her?

  She didn’t think so.

  Mary wasn’t even sure what she was doing here, living with people she barely knew. At first, she had convinced herself that it was because she needed time to heal. She’d been here over a week and the knot on her head had gone down. But she was still here, having made no plans to leave.

  She couldn’t just ride out. Carter would want to know where she was headed. And what could Mary tell him when she wasn’t supposed to know her identity? Yet, she couldn’t stay either. Her dilemma overwhelmed her every time she thought about it, so as usual she put off thinking about it.

  Right this minute, Mary’s eyelids were so heavy that she could barely keep them open. Maybe if she could close them for just a minute while she tried to remember the pieces of her last day at Gregory Gulch, she’d feel better.

  Slowly, Mary began to drift off. Drowsiness claimed her, and the warmth of the blanket made her feel secure. Deeper and deeper she sank until she could see Gregory Gulch in her mind’s eye.

  That morning had begun like most mornings. She’d fixed gravy and hot buttermilk biscuits with black strap molasses for breakfast. After the third helping, Big Jim had asked, “How long you gonna do this, gal?”

  Not understanding what he meant, Mary had given him a confused look and asked, “Do what?” Jim licked the molasses from his fingers before answering. “How long you gonna keep hiding in these mountains working yourself to death?”

  “But you’re here,” she pointed out “Reckon you’re right, gal. But I’m an old man. You, on the other hand, are a right pretty filly that some man should make his wife.”

  “I suppose I have worked a lot But what else do I have, Jim?” Mary replied.

  “That’s the point, gal. You’ll never know what you can have as long as yer working up here with old men. Before long you’ll be as old as I am.”

  “I think you’re trying to get rid of me,” Mary teased.

  “Naw. Just want what’s best for you. True enough, I’d miss you once you were gone.” Jim tore a biscuit apart and sopped up some molasses. “But I’ve seen you work your hands until they bleed, and I don’t want to see you break the rest of your body until they match your hands.” He looked up at her. “You’re still young.”

  “I know you’re right, but I need a little more money before I call it quits.”

  Jim let out a long, audible breath. “There’s never enough money to be had when the prospect of more money is out there.”

  Mary shook her head. “It’s different with me. I’ve never had anything of my own. I always wore clothes the people from town didn’t want anymore. My sister has money, but that is hers. I want my own. I want to be independent and in control of my own destiny. I’m not going to wait around for some man to discover me.”

  “And what are you going to do with your money?” “I want to live like everyone else and be normal. I want a small house.” She smiled, then added, “One with a little white fence running around it” “I hate to tell you, lass, but I just can’t see you as being ordinary.” He chuckled. “How about kids?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about them. I c
an’t imagine getting married.” Mary sighed.

  “Ah, gal, do you not realize how lovely you are? One day a man will simply take your breath away, and then you’ll be wanting to get yourself hitched.”

  “I couldn’t count on that, Jim. But if there is someone, he’s going to have to be one hell of a man to turn my head.” Mary laughed. “I’m pretty headstrong, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  This time Jim laughed. “He’s out there somewhere, and I bet when you first meet him, you won’t like him one dang bit,” Jim said as he stood. “Let’s go find some gold so you can find your cowboy.”

  “I’ll just settle for the gold,” Mary grumbled, following behind Jim.

  As they trudged toward the mine, Jim said, “Did I tell you that sorry brother of mine thinks he wants to start working the mine? Got a letter from him the other day. Said business was slow and he needed something to do.”

  “Are you going to let him?”

  “Don’t know. He always tends to take the easy way out of things. We’ve never really got along, but I guess he is my brother—or I should say half brother—so I gotta consider it. Reckon kin is kin.” Mary punched Jim in the arm. “Maybe you’ll be lucky and he won’t show up.”

  As her thoughts drifted, she could see herself and Jim working in the mine. Her next memory was of her entering the front door of their cabin. Jim had gone ahead of her. When she entered the cabin a stranger stood up, but he was in the shadows and she couldn’t see his face.

  “Mary, I have a surprise for you,” Jim had said. Mary’s dream faded to black. She couldn’t remember any more of what happened until she woke up with the knife in her hand. She saw the blood. She saw Jim. Dead. Lifeless. No, Jim, no!

  She began to scream, “I didn’t do it I didn’t do it You must believe me, I didn’t do it!”

  Someone was shaking her, and Mary fought against the restraining arms. “No! No!” she yelled over and over again.

  For Carter, sleep was elusive. For some reason, he couldn’t get Mary off his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear her voice, and worse, he could picture her sitting across from him with that golden mass of hair tumbling over her shoulders, begging him to touch the silken strands.

  That was enough. He tossed the covers aside and slid out of bed. He slipped on his breeches and his shirt but didn’t bother with his boots. Maybe he’d just check on Mary. He shouldn’t have left her all alone.

  Carter had just entered the downstairs hallway when he heard Mary cry out. Alarmed, he ran to the library and shoved the door open. He’d kill any sidewinder that hurt her, but what he found wasn’t a sidewinder. Mary was on the couch thrashing about and yelling she didn’t do it

  Do what, he wondered.

  He strode across the room in no time and sank quickly onto the sofa. He shook her shoulders, gently at first, but Mary was sleeping so soundly that she didn’t wake. Instead, she fought him and cried out, “Please, I didn’t do it!”

  Carter wrapped his arms tightly around her and crushed her against him, forcing her to be still. “Wake up, Mary.” Carter tried to sound calm, but he realized he was breathing hard from his struggles. “It’s Carter. I won’t hurt you. You’re having a bad dream.”

  Mary still struggled, which made him wonder what terrible thing had happened to her that it lurked just beneath the surface waiting to be released. “Wake up, Mary.”

  Finally, she stilled. Her eyelids fluttered open and she leaned back to look at him. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she appeared truly to be frightened. The fear was plain in her eyes as she blinked at him, totally confused.

  “Shh. It was just a bad dream, I’m here,” Carter soothed as Mary trembled in his arms. “Everything will be all right.”

  Mary cried harder, and Carter cradled her face between his palms, forcing her to look at him. “Look at me, Mary. Look at me. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  She managed a small nod and then threw her arms around him. He enfolded her in his arms, soothing her as he shifted around until his back was against the couch and Mary was pulled across his lap. He held her, rubbing his hand over her back to calm her down. Every once in awhile, he leaned down and brushed her cheek with his lips while he whispered, “Hush. I don’t want you to cry.”

  Sometime later she finally calmed down, but she didn’t try to pull away from him and he didn’t push her away. Mary Evidently had a lot of pain and fear that had been penned up in her for a long time. Carter knew she’d be exhausted after such a crying spell. He probably should leave her— but he couldn’t. He was well aware of the intense hunger that devoured him with every passing minute. But he swore he’d never let her see the depths of his passion. Yes, he should probably leave this room immediately.

  But he didn’t

  Mary waited for her breathing to return to normal. She couldn’t remember ever crying like that before, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself, either. She couldn’t hold in the grief any longer, and being able to get it all out was a relief. All the same, she was embarrassed that Carter had to find her this way. She pulled back to apologize, but stopped when she saw the expression in his eyes. He had tipped his chin down to look at her, and what Mary saw took her breath away. It wasn’t a look of impatience. He wore a tender expression on his face as if he felt her pain.

  She tightened her hand around Carter’s neck and lifted her chin so that her mouth would meet his lips. She wanted to forget her pain and experience something, though she wasn’t sure what. She brushed his mouth slightly, and he pulled her closer, kissing her softly at first before becoming demanding. It took Mary by surprise. A sudden flood of tenderness overwhelmed her. When his tongue touched her lips, she gasped, and he took advantage of the opening.

  She had been kissed a couple of times in her life, but never like this. It was so different from anything she’d ever known. She was lost in pure sensation, and she forgot about Carter being the enemy. He was flesh and blood like herself, and Mary sensed a need in him that matched her own. She saw in his eyes a haunted expression. Could he be looking for something he didn’t have, just as she was?

  This was the first sign she’d seen that Carter possessed any kind of emotions at all. He’d always seemed so cold, so in control. Mary might be naive but she felt that he was experiencing something more than just lust for her.

  Carter was experiencing something ...

  He felt as though he’d been slammed in the gut with a sledgehammer. For the last few years Carter had visited the local whorehouse when his needs arose, a process that had worked well for him. It had been a quick, simple relief and there had been no emotions involved.

  But once he pulled Mary into his arms, he hadn’t been able to turn on that numbing feeling that he had always been so good at He felt every inch of her. He smelled her scent Her heart beat in a rhythm that matched his, and somehow he was slipping rapidly under her spell. Even at the height of passion Carter had never experienced the hot, intense longing that he did now. What would it feel like to bury himself deep into Mary until she was clinging to his shoulders, whispering his name over and over again?

  It was something he’d probably never know.

  Finally Carter realized he had to put a stop to this. It was the right thing to do. For all he knew, the girl could be married, and he still had two outlaws to catch before he could even consider a future with her. Or anyone.

  “I’m sorry, Mary,” Carter finally said, pulling back even though his body ached for more. He could see her passion-filled eyes that turned his blood into liquid fire. “I took advantage of you.”

  It took a moment before Mary could think straight Then Carter’s words sank in. She was pretty sure she’d just been insulted. He was sorry for kissing her, and that meant he felt nothing for her. So what else should she expect? She didn’t deserve love.

  “I’m sorry, too,” Mary said in a low voice. “But I was so scared ...”

  “I know,” Carter acknowledged, pulling her closer. �
�We’ll just forget that it happened.”

  Carter said one thing but did another, Mary noticed as he kept her snug within his arms. She placed her head on his chest and her eyes drifted shut What would it feel like to one day have someone who cared about her?

  Mary had always believed that she would never find out. This brief moment might be all she’d ever have.

  Because she’d lose what ground she gained as soon as Carter linked her to the murder.

  Chapter Seven

  So now what?

  Those were the words screaming through Mary’s brain as she opened one bleary eye. All right, so she’d had a moment of weakness last night, but what part of last night was real and what part was a dream?

  She sat up in bed and brushed the hair out of her face. Touching her lips, she knew from their tenderness that the kisses had been very real— sleeping with Carter had been the dream. All night she had dreamed of the man and his caresses.

  She supposed there wasn’t any harm in dreaming. As long as she didn’t act upon those dreams, she’d be all right. Then she realized how stupid it was to let her thoughts wander down that path when they would only bring her nothing but trouble.

  Someone needed to knock some sense into her. How could she have even thought about sleeping with the man? And how was she going to face him this morning? Especially now that he knew she was mere putty in his hands.

  And why him?

  She’d never desired any man. She loved Billy, she always would, but now she realized what she felt for him was different than what she felt for Carter, so why did she have to pick a man with a badge?

  Maybe she was going crazy.

  At least, when they both had come to their senses—all right, so it was Carter who’d come to his senses. She probably wouldn’t have.

  He’d said it was a mistake, and she had agreed. Well, what else could she have done? She had believed that the kisses were enjoyable, but he apparently thought it had been a mistake. It must have been a completely different experience for him. He did promise that it would never happen again. And now in the bright light of day, she knew she’d never kiss him again. It was just plain foolishness.