Randee observed the man intently. Marsh’s bitterness and fury were evident in his voice and stance. “I’m sure your friends would appreciate what you’re doing for them, Marsh. We’ll catch that murderous band and punish them, then all of their dead can rest easier.” She looked around and smiled sadly. “It’s such a beautiful place, so tranquil and fertile. Who owns it now? Are we trespassing?”
“There’s only one heir and he wouldn’t sell for any reason, if the local authorities knew where to locate him. I can’t blame him; a homestead isn’t something you get rid of just because there’s trouble.”
Randee eyed the peaceful grove where a home had once stood and a family had lived, unaware of their grim fates. She thought of her father’s ranch, her lost home, and a great sadness filled her. “You’re right, Marsh, a home isn’t something to lose carelessly, or something to have taken from you by force and deceit.”
Marsh was intrigued and touched by her melancholy mood. She sighed deeply and shook it off with sheer will power, and he did the same. “You’re safe here from all harm, Randee, I promise. And you have my word I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
Randee accepted his word and headed off to find the water hole. The light was vanishing quickly and she wanted to see it before dark to make certain no slithery creatures were swimming there. She located it in an area that was screened by bushes and trees. Stripping and entering the water, she barely managed to suppress a shriek of discomfort as the chilly water engulfed her body. She scrubbed quickly with the soap she had brought along and dried off with her worn shirt. Donning a nightgown, she hung her sweaty garments on bushes to dry before packing them. She slipped into the shirt she would wear tomorrow and used it for a robe. Gathering her things, she headed back to camp.
As she neared the fire where Marsh was cooking supper, he glanced up at her before returning his gaze to the task at hand. Suddenly, his head jerked upward and he took another look. Noting her attire, surprise registered on his face and he nearly burned himself.
Randee related, “I can’t sleep in confining clothes that I’ve worn all day, and I’m too tired to be kept awake. Besides, if it’s safe for you to visit my hotel room in the middle of the night and safe for me to strip and bathe nearby, then surely it’s safe for me to sleep in a nightgown which conceals nearly every inch of me from view. You said there were no neighbors or dangers, so why be uncomfortably modest?”
“You’re right, Miss Hollis. I was just taken unprepared for such courage. Sit down and rest a minute. Supper will be ready soon.” Marsh watched her place a folded blanket on the ground and take a seat on it, the fiery blaze and cooking meal safely positioned between them. Randee’s tawny hair tumbled over her shoulders and shone like polished silk in the firelight, whose loving glow also caressed her golden complexion. As she wearily stared into the colorful flames, their dreamy dance was reflected in her green eyes. Truly, the cotton gown was visually impenetrable, and hardly sexy with that shirt buttoned over it. He knew she was being honest; comfort was her only motive. He was glad she felt so secure around him because it didn’t matter what she had on; anything she wore whet his appetite for her.
When they finished eating, he washed the metal dishes in the stream and set them aside for use in the morning. He told Randee, “You sleep here beside the fire. I’ll sleep near the water hole, after I bathe. If you get scared or need anything, call out.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I camped out plenty of times with my father, so I’m not afraid of the dark or night creatures. See you in the morning.” Randee unrolled her sleeping bag and climbed inside. She placed her cherished Colt near her head and closed her eyes. She waited to see if the man would keep his word, and wondered if she wanted him to do so ….
Marsh was positive the weapon wasn’t there as a warning to him. He noticed which gun she chose to spend the night with and guessed why: Her father must have given it to her and it made her feel safe. He picked up his belongings and headed for the water hole, depositing them nearby. Then, he returned to the fire to retrieve a pan of hot water, told her good night, and left. At his campsite, he used the steamy water and his sharp knife to shave. It was an easy chore to do in the dark and without a mirror, as he had done it this way many times before. He removed his clothes and took a long bath. He needed the cold water to douse the fire in his body, one which Miss Randee Hollis kept igniting at every turn. Noticing her clothes draped on the bushes, he followed her lead and hung his own garments out to dry.
Only a sliver of moon was in the sky tonight, making the area around him dark, much too dark for Randee to see his naked body at this distance. He kicked the sleeping bag and sent it to unrolling rapidly. Climbing inside, he knew that for many reasons he was in for a night of little sleep: He was on the alert for peril, an overwhelmingly tempting woman was sleeping nearby, and his parents had been brutally murdered here. So many old memories and new desires troubled him; so many ghosts haunted him; so much guilt and hunger plagued him. He looked toward the dying glow of the campfire, where Randee was asleep. Well, Ma, I finally brought a girl home with me, but you aren’t here to meet her. Soon, you and Pa will rest peacefully because I’m going to hunt down and kill every one of those bastards.
He lifted his ebony head once more and glanced in Randee’s direction. There was no movement in her bedroll, so he assumed the exhausted female was slumbering peacefully. His hands longed to caress her while she was curled enticingly into his embrace. Just knowing she was nearby inflamed his passions. He remembered every inch of her face. Mercy, how he wanted to join her over there!
She was so unlike the women he had known and taken. As with his mother, she had a strength about her, a gentleness, a special quality. She could inspire a man to do anything for her, then help him do it. With her skills and traits, she was a treasure any man would covet. Mercy, he wanted her, but he couldn’t allow her to distract him, not until this vital mission was over. No, not even then, he warned himself. She was a lady, and he was a drifter. She was the marrying kind, and he was a loner. She had someone waiting for her, someone who loved her and would do anything for her, someone who could give her a good life. Even if he didn’t like Brody Wade and couldn’t stand the thought of the sheriff having her, “ Brody had a lot to offer Randee. It would be wrong of Marsh to take that from her, wrong because she had suffered great pain and loss, and she deserved happiness and stability.
Damn you, woman! Why did you have to come into my miserable life and tempt me so fiercely? I’m responsible for my parents’deaths. If I had been here like any good son, they would be alive. I can’t rest until every member of that gang is dead. Afterwards, I’d be on my way to accept another challenging mission. If I was a rancher instead of a hired gun, I could think about you seriously, but I’m not a homebody like your Sheriff Wade and may never become one. Besides, a traitor can’t settle on land earned with blood. What could I possibly have to offer a lady like you, Randee Hollis? Nothing …
Randee lay very still and quiet, not wanting Marsh to know she was still awake. Just knowing he was bathing and sleeping not far away aroused her to intense desire. She was within a hundred yards of the first man who made her tremble uncontrollably, who made her want to forget everything she knew and was, just to entice and enjoy him!
She was ensnared by Marsh Logan and worried about him. She wondered if as the Durango Kid he ever got tired of his hazardous lifestyle. Surely being on the move and on the alert all the time would eventually cause a once-exciting existence to lose its magic and pull. Did he ever think about settling down? Did he care for ranching or farming? Did he want a home, wife, and children one day? A gunslinger couldn’t ply his lethal trade forever. The time came when his eyes and instincts dulled, when his speed and skills lessened—and when someone else took his life, or gave up such a lifestyle. But how did a man simply walk away from a famous reputation? Would other upcoming gunmen allow a colorful and challenging legend to retire peacefully? Would some cocky lawman force
him to step over the lawful boundary, just to boast that he had slain the Durango Kid? Death, she fretted, was the only end to such a perilous life. What a terrible waste of such a good man!
Randee listened to the calming songs of frogs, crickets, and night birds. She heard branches with supple leaves tickling each other, and water racing over rocks in the stream. The campfire was down to barely glowing embers, and the partial moon cast very little light. Everything smelled so fresh and clean here. Her soul was enlivened, thanks to Marsh Logan. Could she persuade him to begin a new life, a much different one? Could they become a perfect match and find happiness together? How wonderful it would be to sleep nestled together on the same bedroll, to build a home in this very location, to wake up each morning and do chores together, to create a child and watch it grow, to share laughter and joy and suffering, to be partners in all things ….
Marsh Logan was a man strong enough to earn her full respect, her assistance, her total loyalty. She was drawn to him, and she wanted him. She had recognized that truth the moment she had looked up into his attractive face, into those captivating blue eyes. Instantly she had known that here was a unique man, a man she must have.
During the coming weeks, while they were on the trail, she must show him what his life was missing, what he could have if he yielded to her pull. When this dangerous task was over, the Durango Kid must be laid to rest and Marsh Logan must be reborn.
Randee stretched and yawned, coming alert gradually. The sounds of early morning touched her ears, especially the joyful singing of birds. She felt rested and filled with anticipation for the coming day. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around for Marsh. He was not at his campsite near the water hole, and she heard nothing that might give away his location. She sat up and scanned the area for him, finally spying him on a grassy knoll in the distance. He was kneeling beside two green mounds with wooden crosses: a gravesite.
She slipped behind some bushes and dressed. After finding her brush, she untangled her hair and secured it at her nape with one of Brody’s ribbons. The water in the stream was refreshing when she washed her face and hands. She rolled and bound her sleeping bag, and put away her possessions. Since Marsh had not noticed her stirrings and returned, she headed for the gravesite that had him so preoccupied.
He was absorbed in such deep thought that he did not hear her nearly soundless approach, something unusual for the keenly alert man. Randee read the two markers, and her eyes widened in surprise: “Judith Logan, 1817-1870” and “Marshall Logan, 1814-1870.”
Marsh was on his knees, with his buttocks resting against his boot soles. His proud shoulders were slightly slumped and his hands were capping his knees tightly. As she edged to his right side to allow the sun to cast her shadow over his lap, she noticed that his jaw was clenched and his expression was cold. It was so glacial that a chill passed over her body. She jumped and squealed as Marsh caught sight of her from the corner of his eye and whirled toward her. His narrowed gaze caused her to step backward and to say, “I’m sorry if I intruded on your mourning. You didn’t tell me they were your kin.”
Marsh stood quickly and masked his feelings, “They weren’t kin; they were my parents. I need some coffee,” he growled, then headed back for camp.
Randee stared at his back as he retreated from the sad spot. His words from yesterday filled her mind. That meant he was the heir of this lovely and tragic spread! If he was an only son, why had he left home? Why had he become a hired gunslinger? Now she realized there was more to his taking her offer than she had known ….
As he prepared a fire and made coffee, he answered her unasked questions without looking up. “Before we go on to other matters this morning, we’ll clear up this one. What I said in the sheriff’s office about why I sought your job wasn’t true. It wasn’t to earn money from a rich adventurer or to face a new challenge; it was to seek support on the Epson search. I waste time and lose ground when I have to halt to earn expense money. It. seems we have a mutual bond and need; that’s why we’re sitting here. The large reward isn’t that important, but I’ll take it if I earn it. I also wanted to make sure no reckless glory-seeker fouled up my search, so I hoped to get the money and discourage Randee Hollis from going along. You made that impossible.”
At last, he met her gaze. “Nothing is more important to me than my family. Even if they’re dead, I owe them, like you owe your kin. Those bastards attacked my home and killed my parents in their first strike last April. I’ve been trailing them ever since, but they’re real clever. I want them dead, Randee, but each one by my own hand.-You’ve got clues and I’ve got skills, so that makes us a good match. Since I haven’t been successful getting to them, maybe I do need your brains and help. I know I can use your support.”
“Why did you keep this a secret until today?” she inquired.
“I didn’t want anyone else knowing how serious I was about catching this gang. If anyone came around Wadesville after my departure looking for information, I didn’t want him to consider me a threat and start watching for me over his shoulder. If I had told you the truth, you could have let something drop accidentally to your sweetheart, to keep him from worrying about you. I needed for Sheriff Wade to believe I only came looking for money and excitement; otherwise, he would have wondered how I could reject your reward and help. When I came to the hotel to meet with you, it was to talk you out of coming along. But after I grasped your talents and motive, plus the danger you were in, I figured it was best to bring you along. You’re especially important to me if you can pick out those men from clues you observed.”
Randee was disappointed to learn that Marsh had brought her with him only to use her to obtain personal revenge. Yes, she admitted, she was using him too, but she was paying heavily for that privilege, and she hadn’t lied about why she was hiring him! No doubt this astute male realized she knew more than she had revealed, to him, and was hoping to charm the information from her. She had to keep silent because, when he no longer needed her, he might desert her somewhere and pursue his own vengeful path.
He had endured great pain and would take on any and all obstacles to seek victory. It was good that his commitment matched hers, but could she trust him completely? Only time could provide that answer. Perhaps it was best to let the matter slide for a while as she proved herself to him, and he proved himself to her. She nodded and said, “I understand your reasoning. Actually, I like this motive better than money and adventure; it means you’re deadly serious about our task.”
Noticing his appearance, she decided to change the subject. “Can I ask you another question?” When he didn’t respond either way, she queried, “Why do you always shave at night?” Every time she saw him in the light—that first day in Wadesville, that morning at Red River Station, and now— he had only a night’s growth of whiskers. Why would a man have a shadowy face during the daytime and a smooth one at night?
Marsh grinned at her ploy. She was alert and compassionate. “Lots of reasons, my eagle-eyed partner, all having to do with being prepared for anything. If I have to ride out of town or camp real fast, which happens often, I don’t have time to shave in the morning. After a hard and dusty day on the trail, it’s more relaxing to do it at night, and it keeps prickly whiskers from catching on my bedroll and pinching. It also helps me hone those night skills I told you about. I practice doing it with little or no sound, and without cutting myself. It really sharpens the senses and skills. Makes the old fingers learn to move with an extra light touch, which comes in handy,” he teased huskily.
“When are you going to share those skills with me? You said you would teach me everything you know about survival.”
Marsh looked her over boldly and imagined what he would really like to teach her and share with her, and the way she was returning his gaze said she was receptive. “We’ll get your training under way after breakfast and our strategy meeting. This mission has to be planned perfectly or we’re both dead.”
“I belie
ve it’s my turn to cook,” she reminded him as he pulled out supplies and began making biscuits.
“I’m used to cooking for myself, so it came natural to start the meal. Let’s make this a joint venture and we’ll be eating sooner. While I finish here, why don’t you pour us some coffee and get the meat to frying? I have jars of honey and jam in the supply sack; take your pick.”
“Which do you prefer?” she asked as she followed his suggestions.
“Doesn’t matter to me. I like them both. Frankly, I only chose things that I like. Maybe I should have checked on your preferences.”
She looked through the two sacks and smiled. “From what I can see, Mr. Logan, you did an excellent job with your selections. I think honey’s best this morning, because it’s the stickiest and we’re near lots of water. It does have a sneaky way of getting all over you.”
Marsh looked at her and chuckled. He asked, “Do you always reason. everything out?”
Randee’s hand ceased slicing the meat and she shrugged. “I suppose so,” she admitted. She laid the strips neatly in the skillet and placed it over the flame. While she waited for it to begin sizzling, she prepared their coffee. Handing one cup to Marsh, she remarked, “See if that’s how you like it.”
He sipped it and met her gaze. “Looks as if you know me already. Since you notice everything and recall it, I’ll have to be careful with what I say and do. If I make a mistake, you’ll never forget it. But of course, talents like those are vital in our work.”
After they ate, Marsh began the clean-up chores. Randee laughed and said, “You’re marvelous to have around, Mr. Logan. You remind me of my father, kind and brave enough to do what’s needed. I like not being expected to do the chores because I’m a woman. You’ve won my deepest affection and respect.”
Passions Wild And Free Page 10
