Chapter Two
Shane woke slowly, opening his eyes in stages, the ache in his head staggering. With his right hand he reached back and found the knot, a large achy lump causing him a good deal of pain. “Ow! Dammit.”
Fighting off a swell of dizziness, he rose from the cot on which he’d been lying and brought himself to an upright position, bracing his boots onto the floorboards and putting his hands to his head.
A skirt, two sizes too big, covering a pair of man’s boots, swished by him. “How’s the head, Shane?”
The soft voice soothed, until he glanced up and saw Dorie McCabe staring down at him. Without pause, he recalled the spectacle at the church: Dorie pointing her six-shooter toward the altar, him trying to talk sense into her outside…and then the pistol butt to the head.
He gritted his teeth. “I’m gonna live, Dorie.”
“Sure you are, Shane.”
“But… I’m not too sure about you. If my head wasn’t aching like the devil, I’d have a mind to take a paddle to your backside.”
“I’m not a child and nobody paddles my backside!”
Shane rubbed his temples, making circles to ease the pain. “Don’t be too sure about that,” he said quietly, because speaking up only intensified the aching.
“I’m sorry for what I did.”
Shane stretched back down onto the small bed and closed his eyes, the strain of sitting upright taking its toll. To Dorie’s credit, she did sound contrite. For Dorie. “Sorry for busting up my wedding, or knocking me out with your gun?”
“Well, not for busting up your wedding, Shane. That’s for darn certain. But I’m sorry for the bruise to your head.”
“Uh-huh.” Right now, he had trouble thinking straight. His head felt heavy, as though wild mustangs were stampeding straight through it.
“Why don’t you sleep some more,” she whispered softly, coming close to set a cool cloth to his head. “There, feel better?”
“Some,” he said, waging a war with fatigue, but clearly losing.
“That’s it, Shane. You need to rest.” She touched his face, smooth slim fingers tracing over his jaw. “I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“The morning?”
“Yes, the morning. But not to worry, I won’t leave you. Jeremiah went back to the homestead but I’ll be right here, watching over you.”
“No,” he mumbled, feeling himself fading fast. He wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer. “We can’t spend the night together.”
Had she heard him? Shane wasn’t sure if he’d spoken the words or just thought them. Things were fuzzy in his head. But either way, he knew he had to get out of here, real quick. He couldn’t spend the night with Dorie. He had to make amends with Marilee.
Ah, hell. Another thought struck him, pounding his head with throbbing pain. Mr. Barkley would have his head and his ranch if Shane didn’t make things right with his daughter. It might appear as if he’d left Marilee at the altar, in favor of Dorie, if Shane didn’t get out of here right away to explain.
Dorie’s soft voice broke into his muddied thoughts. “I’ll just light a little fire in the hearth and be right back.” She removed her hand from his face and oddly, he missed that slight caress.
“Dorie?”
“Hmm?”
“Where am I?”
“Don’t you worry about that. You just close your eyes and sleep, Shane. You’ll feel better in the morning. Then I’ll explain everything.”
“No, not the morning,” he said, attempting to lift his head, but the quick move brought piercing pain, making mush of his mind. He lowered his head back onto the cot, the soft cushion of a pillow helping ease the discomfort. His resolve, however, didn’t waver. If he spent the night here, he knew disaster would ensue. “I gotta get back.”
He tried lifting up again, but it was no use and soon he lost the battle to keep his eyes open. Sleep began to sound real good. “I’ll just rest up a bit, then… I…gotta…get…back,” he murmured, as his entire body went limp.
Shane drifted peacefully, his mind empty but for the serene hazy glow that left his head light and woozy. He rolled over onto his side, resting his head on a soft cushion and let out a deep sigh. Blissfully near sleep again, he freed himself of worry, absorbing the dark and delicate sensations surrounding him.
He thrust his arm out and sighed again at the soft cushion he found, a creamy texture that brought pleasing tingles to his fingertips. He stroked the satinlike softness, letting it sink in, pleasing him in unforeseen ways.
“Shane.”
He heard his name, a sweet mysterious whisper in the shadows of his mind. His body grew tight. He sought the sound. His hand probed, skimming the silk, feeling flesh against his palms, the most delectable, satisfying sensations whirling through his clouded mind.
“Shane.” The sweet plea stirred him yet again. He found the sound coming from the softest set of lips he’d ever encountered. He brushed his mouth over once, twice, and took a long drink, tasting from the sweetness. A deep guttural groan of pleasure escaped his throat. He kissed those lips again and again, the pleasure near to unbearable.
He was lost now and reeling with desire for the silk under his palms and the taste of sweet mystery that seemed to cloud his mind even more. He moved his body closer, pressing up against the cushion that arched to him, giving him comfort while making him ache.
He slipped his hands over gossamer-feeling twin mounds of flesh that peaked from his touch. The response left him breathless and wanting. He envisioned a shadowy silhouette of a woman, with fiery hair spread across the pillow and the gleaming glow of unbridled passion in her light eyes.
He was wrapped up in her now, ready to stroke her into submission, ready to claim her in the dark, ready to ease his powerful need. He thrust his tongue in her mouth, the exquisite joining bringing a whimper from her delicate throat. His hand found the juncture between her thighs, and he pressed gently, priming her for his entry, but she jolted from his touch, startling him out of this all-too-vivid dream.
He opened his eyes wide, the reality hitting him hard and fast. “Dorie?”
“Oh, Shane,” she murmured breathlessly, her voice a slight shaky tremble.
Dear God. It was Dorie. His lusty dream had been real and the cushion of silk he’d found so pleasing had been Dorie’s soft young body. He’d almost taken her, this innocent girl whom he’d tried to protect for the last three years. He’d almost seduced Dorie in her sleep.
“Dorie,” he said again, rolling off of her and flopping onto his back. His hand went to his forehead, his body going cold as winter rain. “Why the devil are you in bed with me?”
“W-Where else would I sleep?” Her voice sounded breathless, throaty, so unlike the young wholesome girl he’d come to know.
The floor would have been an option, he thought, but dammit, Shane was too much of a gentleman to say that. The shanty she’d taken him to was too small for any other kind of furniture than a tiny wooden table and the bed. “You just don’t climb into bed with strange men, Dorie.”
“I know it, Shane. But you’re not a stranger and I had to watch over you tonight. I know I can trust you.”
Immediate guilt assailed him. He shook his head, ignoring the painful throbbing inside. He’d almost taken her virginity and she still trusted him. “Dorie, I almost… I mean…when you go to bed with a man…what I mean to say is…you shouldn’t trust…ah, hell, Dorie. I’m sorry for touching you.”
It had been the most stirring experience in Shane’s life, touching Dorie. He knew for certain he’d never forget the heady sensations that tightened his body so urgently or feel anything quite so erotically mysterious ever again. He placed the blame for his actions on a sore head and a dizzy mind. It should never have happened and he was sorry for it. He’d never touch Dorie McCabe that way ever again.
“Brett Caruthers tried touching me once and I slapped his hand away.”
Brett Caruthers, that little weasel
who worked at the general store? “That’s what you should do, Dorie. Even with me.”
A stream of moonlight cast Dorie’s face in a slight glow and Shane didn’t like the look he witnessed on her face, all dewy-eyed and full of trust. “But, with you, the touching was…real nice. I didn’t want to slap your hands away, Shane.”
“Jeez, Dorie,” he said, tossing the coverlet off of him and bounding up from the bed. His head still ached, but that was a far better feeling than lying next to Dorie, having her admit such things. His body still hummed from the “real nice” touching he’d done.
He planted his hands on his hips and cast her a stern look. “You never told me why you kidnapped me from my wedding.”
Dorie sat up on the bed and came to him on her knees, her scarlet hair wild and unruly. Even in the dark, Shane saw through the threadbare chemise she wore to the creamy skin underneath. He swallowed, remembering the feel of her skin, the silkiness and the soft full swell of her breasts that he’d held in his hands. “Don’t be mad, Shane. I had a good reason.”
Shane was almost beyond reason. One part of him wanted to throttle her for disrupting his life, the other part—the all male part—wanted to toss her down on the bed and make love to her.
Hell, he’d spent time with her, trying to help her and her brother, trying to lend his protection whenever he could. She was just a girl. He was more than ten years her senior, yet somehow, she’s gotten under his skin. He couldn’t have her, wouldn’t make love to her, and yet she tempted him without even trying.
He’d been too long without a woman. That was it. It had been nearly three months since he’d made a trip to Virginia City to visit the ladies at the brothel. It had just been too damn long.
On impulse, Shane reached out to touch Dorie’s hair. He sifted a strand of red flame through his fingers. Softly, he said, “You ought to cover up, Dorie. Get dressed. Then we’ll talk.”
Suddenly, the door thrust open. Big beefy hands shoved Jeremiah through. The boy lost his footing and tripped. He shot Dorie an apologetic look before slumping onto the floor.
“You left my daughter at the church for this trollop! You’re gonna pay for this, Shane Graham.” Tobias Barkley barreled into the room, his ruddy face flushed with color.
“Sorry, Dorie,” Jeremiah rushed out from his place on the floor. “He followed me.”
“Sure as hell, I followed you,” Tobias Barkley hissed, his expression filled with fury. He glared at Shane. “Damn you, Graham. Was bedding her worth your ranch? Is she that good? Why in hell didn’t you wait until after the wedding? You made me a laughingstock running out on my daughter. I’ll have your hide as well as your broken-down ranch!”
Shane immediately covered Dorie up with the blanket. “Now wait just a minute, Barkley. This isn’t how it looks.”
The older man cast Shane a dubious look. He arched a brow and Shane could only guess what was on the man’s mind. He’d found them in a compromising position. “Don’t play me for a fool, Graham. She’s in your bed, wearing next to nothing and you were all over each other when I busted in here.”
“No, I…we didn’t…” Dorie fumbled with her words, then cast Shane a pleading look.
A tick worked at Shane’s jaw and protective instincts surged forth. He was ready to put a fist through old man Barkley’s face if he said anything further regarding Dorie’s reputation. “Nothing happened here, Barkley. And nothing will. You say another word about Dorie and that’ll be the last one you do say. Now, if you want to go outside, I can explain. If you don’t want to hear me out, then get out, now.”
“I’m not hearing your lies, Graham. We had a deal and now it’s too damn late. My daughter’s gone. She took off right after you abandoned her at the church and nobody’s seen her. You ruined her, and now I’m gonna ruin you. You got that, boy? As soon as I find Marilee, you’re either gonna marry her like you promised, or pay for double-crossing me. And if I don’t find my daughter, you’ll wish you were dead.”
Dorie gasped, jamming her hand to her mouth. She bounded off the bed, but Shane stopped her, placing a firm grip on her shoulders. He didn’t want her anywhere near Barkley. “No,” she pleaded desperately, “this isn’t Shane’s fault. I took him away from the wedding!”
“It’s too late now.” The man’s wrath could have shaken down the walls of the dilapidated shanty. “I’m aiming to ruin you both.”
Shane’s gut clenched. Old man Barkley had the means to ruin him; there was no doubt that he wouldn’t hesitate. All he had to do was call in the loans and refuse him grazing rights on his property. His herd wouldn’t last long without the water and feed Barkley provided. And Shane didn’t have anywhere near enough money to pay off the loans. Not yet.
But he felt even worse for Marilee. She’d done a reckless thing, but had confided in Shane that she’d fallen in love with that ranch hand. Suspiciously though, the ranch hand had vanished leaving Marilee to believe he’d run out on her. She’d been heartbroken and vulnerable, but old man Barkley hadn’t cared. He’d been content forcing her into a loveless marriage with Shane, in order to save face. Shane couldn’t blame Marilee for running away and escaping the clutches of her overbearing father. He couldn’t blame her for wanting something better in life. “Get out, now,” Shane demanded through tight lips.
“Gladly,” Barkley said, heading for the door. He stopped at the threshold and turned, shooting Dorie a long scornful glare. “I hope she was worth it.”
Shane let out a string of muttered curses and sat down on the bed, holding his head in his hands. Dorie swallowed hard as fierce regret stabbed at her. She’d never meant for any of this to happen. She’d never wanted to ruin Shane’s life. He’d been good and kind to her and Jeremiah. He’d been the only one in Silver Hills she could count on. She’d needed him and was desperate enough to break up his wedding to Marilee to get his help.
She’d always known something suspicious was behind Shane’s right quick wedding proposal to Marilee. Out of the blue, he’d begun courting her in a fashionable way. Dorie hadn’t liked it then, comparing herself to Marilee and coming up short. Marilee was a lady, schooled and groomed and soft-spoken. Dorie always envied the way she had of smiling up at a man…at Shane, to get him to do her bidding. Yes, Marilee was a lady and it irked Dorie no end that Shane had decided he liked Marilee more than her. But she’d had her suspicions about the union all along and she knew for a fact that Shane didn’t love Marilee—she knew it deep down in her heart.
Now, she wondered if Shane would ever forgive her.
Would he even consider helping her? She had to ask him to do her a giant-size favor. Dorie sat down on the bed next to him, fighting off tears, fighting off despair.
“Dorie, get dressed,” Shane said, slanting her a look, then gestured with a nod of his head toward her younger brother. “And you’d best explain to Jeremiah what just happened here.” Slowly, Shane rose from the bed. “When you’re done, maybe you can explain it all to me.”
Shane slammed out of the door. Dorie blinked and her heart pounded hard against her chest.
“Dorie, did you lay with him?” Jeremiah asked, his eyes far too knowing for a thirteen-year-old.
Dorie rose from the bed and threw on her clothes. “Heavens, you know better than that, Jeremiah. I had to make sure Shane was all right after that butt to the head and that’s what I did. I made sure he was all right.”
She nodded as if convincing herself, but memories of his lips crushing her mouth, his strong hands caressing her skin and the heat of his body surrounding her, burst forth in her mind. Tingles threaded through her body like a fine tapestry. She’d recalled it all, every sensation. She knew she’d always remember how Shane Graham made her feel for a few secret moments tonight in this shanty.
But that wasn’t important now. What was important was Jeremiah. Keeping him was all Dorie had time for at the moment. She’d set her sights and had come up with a plan.
Dorie dug her teeth into her bottom lip
as she peered out the grimy window. She squinted, making out Shane’s form, a shadow of a man, pacing under the stars. “I’d best get this over with, Jeremiah. You wait here.”
Dread pulsed in Dorie’s stomach. When she’d first come up with this plan, it had all sounded so simple and easy. She’d thought and thought on it, and was sure it would work. Then Shane went and got himself hooked up with Marilee Barkley and Dorie’s plan had begun to unravel like a worn-out old hook rug.
She opened the door and stepped out. Shane had his back to her, leaning on a rickety post. She sensed his underlying fury, the tight rein he kept on his control. “You ready to talk?”
She took a swallow. “First off, Shane. I couldn’t be sorrier for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I didn’t mean to ruin things.”
“Breaking up a wedding has a way of ruining things, Dorie.”
“But, you didn’t want to marry Marilee. I knew that in my gut, Shane.”
“I had to marry her. Barkley had me over a barrel.”
“She’s having your child, then?”
“No!” He turned and narrowed his eyes on her. “No. But he needed something from me and because I owe him, he called me on it.”
“Marrying his daughter was payment, then?”
“Sort of. But that’s all I’m saying, Dorie. Now are you gonna tell me why you jammed my head with that pistol and dragged me up here?”
Dorie braced herself for the worst. She worked up her courage, her need to protect Jeremiah stronger than her fear of Shane’s anger. “I did it for Jeremiah.”
Shane’s face registered utter amazement. He wrinkled his nose and shot her a look of exasperation. “Jeremiah?”
She nodded. “I need a husband…temporarily.”
Chapter Three
The words tumbled out so quickly that Dorie actually jumped from Shane’s immediate reaction. He stepped back, blinked, cocked his head, then slanted her a look of bewilderment. “A husband…temporarily? What in tarnation are you talking about, Dorie? If I didn’t still feel the brunt of that pistol to my head, I’d swear you were the one who’d been walloped today.”
Abducted at the Altar Page 2
