She sighed dreamily and stretched to loosen stiff muscles. “Both rain and a swim would be wonderful. I can hardly wait. This humidity is oppressive. I feel as if my hair and clothes are sticking to me like old syrup.”
He chuckled as she stood up and strolled around. “Makes you kind of restless and miserable, huh?”
She glanced down at him and remarked, “You must be uncomfortable too, or you wouldn’t have your shirt and hat off.”
“I’m so used to being alone that I do things without thinking. I’m afraid I have little or no modesty, Miss Hollis, but I hope you don’t mind me making myself comfortable for a spell,” he teased.
“Why should I? You never complain or object when I get comfy around camp. Just don’t let that hot sun cook you to misery.”
“If it did, would you take pity on me and doctor me?”
Merry laughter came forth from Randee as her expressive eyes glowed with mischief. In a playfully sultry tone, she responded, “I would be delighted to have you at my mercy, Mr. Logan. Why, these little ole hands are itching to get at you, to see what you’re made of. I doubt men like you even know the meaning of pain. And even if it found you, you’d suffer in silence, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m afraid you overestimate my strength and courage, Miss Hollis, but thanks for the confidence in me. Frankly, I hope I never have to prove to you what I’m made of; you might be disappointed.”
“In view of your immense reputation, Durango, I find that malarky impossible to swallow. Have you ever been wounded?”
“A nick here and there, but nothing serious. What about you?”
“Not yet, and I hope that’s one experience I never have. What will we do when we catch up with that gang?” she inquired.
“Try to trim it down a few at a time without arousing their suspicions. We’ll pick up dynamite in Brownwood next week.”
“Do you think it’s safe to let people see us together?”
“Won’t matter much. News is probably out about us already.”
“I was referring to the Durango Kid showing his handsome face in a town where he could get challenged and slowed down.”
“Contrary to popular opinion, woman, I’m not recognized everywhere. Fact is, I doubt anyone there will know who I am.” He skirted her question with an honest response.
She argued softly, “You’re the one who underestimates yourself, Marsh. I’ve only been in Texas for three months and I know who the Durango Kid is: a handsome, blue-eyed, black-haired rogue who rides a black stallion and dresses in black and who’s matchless with guns and prowess. Surely the locals are even more familiar than I am with a colorful legend like you. Actually I’m surprised we’ve gotten this far without trouble. I would think countless men are dogging you this very minute, hungry to consume you and increase their weight.”
“Then, don’t you think it’s a mite foolish of you to be tagging along with such a dangerous man?” he speculated mirthfully.
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine any place safer than being with you. I said, plenty of men are probably after you, but I doubt all of them put together could defeat you. You see, Durango, I’ve heard most of the tales about you, so I know I’m not in peril being with you.”
“Are you sure about that, Randee?” he inquired huskily.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” she cleverly parried. “From what I’ve heard and read, nobody can be trusted to keep his word more than the Durango Kid. And few men dare challenge him anymore. Is it boring to have people too scared to compete with you, to give you that rush of excitement when danger and death are sitting on-your shoulder?”
“There’s nothing boring about peace and safety” he replied too quickly, leaving himself open to Randee’s next remark.
“Then you don’t mind not killing and fighting all the time, and you’re willing to start fresh after this job. Good.”
“Why is that good?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Because I don’t like to think of Marsh Logan entangled in such a deathly web. If you don’t enjoy the existence of a notorious gunslinger, then you don’t mind giving it up for survival, which is what I want for you, Marsh. Whether you realize it or not, or even admit it, you’re a good man, a very special one, and I wouldn’t want to see you slain in some senseless gun battle over who’s the fastest draw. This isn’t a simple game or competition; the rules are harsh and defeat means death or maiming.” She urged him gravely, “Back away, Marsh, before you get in too deeply. Please, after this is over, go home and rebuild your ranch. You won’t be sorry. If you need money to start life anew, I’ll try to arrange a private loan between us, and you do have that ten thousand dollars coming to you for this job. Don’t waste it living as Durango. Let Marsh Logan use it for his survival and happiness.”
Marsh’s heart was beating swiftly at her show of concern and generosity. He had to think and speak like the real Durango Kid. Now he grasped why the Kid lived and felt as he did, because there wasn’t a Randee Hollis in his life! How could any man not respond to this unique female? In many ways, she was part woman, part child. She was wise, yet a trusting innocent. She was inexperienced, yet a potent seductress. She was a daring vixen, yet a gentle angel. She was reserved, yet open and direct. How could any man not be tempted to make compromises, changes, where she was concerned?. If he were the real Durango, she was offering him a tempting path of escape from a perilous existence! And for a reason that touched him deeply. “I’m a gunfighter, a drifter, a gambler, a scout, and a rogue. I’m not a rancher or a farmer, Randee. I come and go when and where I please. What about being bored into old age?” he had to counter.
Undaunted, she reasoned, “If you get the ranch going again and hire a good foreman, then you can still come and go as you please. But you’ll have a home, Marsh, a safe place to rest, a place to relax your guard when you need to. And everybody needs to on occasion.”
Speaking for himself this time, Marsh asked pointedly, “What happens when my old enemies come to call at my ranch? A man in my position earns plenty of foes, men with long memories, men who’ll stop at nothing for revenge. You think I want to see my home burned and my family killed twice? A little peace isn’t worth it, Randee.”
Believing Marsh to be the real Durango Kid—a famed gunslinger who had managed to remain just inside the law—sadly, Randee could see his point about being unable to settle down peacefully and safely. He had taken a path which was once stimulating to his male ego, a path which now prevented him from enjoying the life of a normal man. Since a legend remained a challenge as long as he lived, the Durango Kid would be compelled to watch his backside forever, and that reality pained her deeply. It meant he would never endanger those he loved. …
Randee knew it wasn’t wise or kind to pressure this man about seeking a life which he believed was out of reach. When—not if—the time came when Marsh wanted a new life, he would take any risk to obtain it. All he needed was something, or someone, to make those risks worth taking. She had observed his expressions and mood; he wasn’t a lost cause, even if he thought he was. She couldn’t tell him he was wrong about being unable to change, because maybe he wasn’t. No one could know more about the life of a gunslinger than the man who was one. If she persuaded him to retire and others made it impossible, she could get him killed. “For now, I agree with you, Marsh; it’s too dangerous for you to drop the strength of the Durango Kid. But rest assured that I’ll guard your back for as long as we’re together.”
Marsh felt that he could truly depend on this woman; he could trust her, lean on her, listen to her, and even follow her. Yet, it wasn’t smart to reveal such things to her any time soon. “I know, Randee, and I’m grateful. You’re the only partner I’ve had, so that should tell you how much confidence I have in you.”
The green-eyed blonde smiled and said, “It feels good to trust another person so much, doesn’t it? We are friends, aren’t we, Marsh?”
“Yes, Randee, we are, and we’ll always be good frie
nds.”
“I’m glad, because you’re the only one I have right now.”
Wisely, Marsh bit his tongue before reminding her about Brody Wade. He knew she was being sincere, and he liked that motive. He smiled and said, “It’s time to move on, partner. Get saddled up.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Logan, right away,” she responded laughingly.
Randee was awed by the lively appeal of the land. Countless varieties of wildflowers crowded meadows or grew in every spot they could take root: Indian paintbrush, goldenrod, groundsel, milfoil, green milkweed, bluebonnets, verbena, and many more. The contrast of colors and shapes was breathtaking. In many areas, the floral covering was so thick it looked as if someone had spread exquisite blankets over the ground. Prairie grass was abundant in this area, as were deer and antelope, which were feeding on it. Her eyes were dry from staring all around her. The hot sun was lowering itself toward the horizon, but there were enough trees to provoke shade, especially with their new growths of verdant leaves. The landscape had a wild beauty to it, mostly free of man’s damaging intrusion. She understood why everyone— Indian and white— who saw this land craved it.
As they neared the fort ruins, she spotted prickly pear cactus, evening primrose, and Spanish daggers surrounding the ghostly site. Marsh told her that Fort Phantom Hill had not survived the harsh duty and numerous desertions which were inspired by monotony and loneliness. After enduring many hardships and perils following its construction in 1851 to protect this area from marauding Indians, the post was closed four years later. Shortly after the Army pulled out, the fort burned, except for rocky foundations, tall chimneys, and three stone structures: the guardhouse, powder magazine, and commissary. Marsh also told her there were several lakes in the area, including one large one south of the post, along with the Brazos River.
Randee glanced around, imagining the number and kinds of creatures which must be inhabiting those abandoned buildings. For certain, she would be more than satisfied to sleep outside tonight! She looked in each direction and saw nothing to indicate anyone was around within miles. They seemed so far from civilization, almost as if they were alone in the world. The sun was nearly set, casting golden shadows about them. A pleasant breeze stirred the leaves, grasses, and flowers, and cooled her warm body. The fragrant blending of floral scents brought a smile to her lips. She was tired, but not exhausted. A curious feeling of tranquility washed over her gently, causing her to forget their reason for coming to this area. She felt so safe and happy with Marsh, so totally at ease, so responsive to him.
“Looks as if nobody’s been here for months,” Marsh concluded aloud. “This is another place we can mark off our list of possible hide-outs and meeting points. We’ll head for Brownwood tomorrow. If there’s only four or five stops along the way, we’ll reach town sometime Tuesday. We’ll take a nice rest in a comfortable hotel, and pick up new supplies and dynamite there.”
Randee added quickly, “And have our washing done. Else, these clothes will soon be dirty beyond redemption.”
“I can tell you’re a woman used to daily baths and fresh clothes,” he teased as they unsaddled their horses, allowing the chestnut mare and black stallion to graze and drink nearby. “We’ll have time to. get our washing done and enjoy a little extra rest. Just make sure you don’t get spoiled before we hit the trail again.”
She responded merrily, “Don’t worry about me, partner. The blood of a newborn adventuress is flowing through me, thanks to you. I like being a drifter for a change; it’s nice to see so many things and places. It’s so peaceful and beautiful way out here.”
Marsh gathered scrubwood for their campfire while Randee took out the supplies for their evening meal. They had gotten used to working together on the chores, so few questions were asked as they carried them out this evening. Soon, they were sitting on either side of a colorful blaze and eating their meal. When they finished, they worked together to wash the dishes and to put away their supplies.
Marsh shaved the dark stubble from his face as Randee watched. When he finished, she remarked, “You don’t use a mirror, but you never cut yourself. That amazes me. You must have a real steady hand.”
He tossed the black-dotted water aside and rinsed out the metal bowl. “In my job, it pays to have one, Miss Hollis, but it comes from practice. You want more wood on the fire?” he asked as he gathered his belongings, obviously planning not to sleep nearby.
Randee looked at the dying blaze and replied, “No thanks. I don’t think it’ll be chilly tonight. If so, I’ll snuggle in my bedroll.”
“I’m going to bunk down on the other side of that wall,” he told her, pointing to the half-finished stone corral behind the last remaining structure. “Why don’t I close my eyes and you try to sneak up on me? I’ll call out when I’m ready, and when I first hear you.”
“Practice my nocturnal skills? Sounds like fun.”
“This is work, woman, and it might save our necks one night.”
Marsh walked behind the four-foot-high wall and spread out his sleeping roll, whistling as he worked. He removed his gunbelt, hat, and boots, and laid them aside. Unbuttoning his shirt nearly to his waist, he stretched out on his makeshift bed and grinned roguishly. He called out, “Ready any time you are.”
Randee draped her agile body over the stone corral and asked, “Is this stealthy enough for you, partner?”
Marsh stood and playfully chided, “You cheated; I wasn’t ready.”
“Hopefully those bandits won’t be ready either,” she jested.
“Any time tonight that you want to try it again, do so. The more practice you get, the better for both of us.”
“See you in the morning, or before,” Randee hinted merrily. She returned to her campsite and put out the fire, as she didn’t want him to see her coming the next time. She called out, “Stay put, Logan. I’m going to bathe and change.” She smiled when she heard him promise not to move an inch. After gathering her saddlebags, she walked to the water to freshen up and to change into her nightgown.
When she was back in her place, she informed him, “All done.”
“Good night, Randee,” the mellow words came from the darkness.
“Good night, Marsh,” she murmured almost too softly to be heard.
Randee wondered how long she should wait before trying to sneak up on him again. Would he be expecting another attempt so soon? Would he lie awake for an hour or two, anticipating her defeat? Would she … She heard a noise behind her, grabbed her pistol, and whirled to check out her peril.
Marsh was squatting nearby, grinning broadly as he waved the stick which he had just broken to catch her attention. “That was fast, woman, but too late to defend yourself,” he teased.
“I wasn’t expecting you to test me tonight. I thought I was the one doing the training,” she said, explaining her lapse.
Marsh came nearer as he informed her, “This is part of your training, being on guard for a surprise attack.”
“You’re right,” she admitted, “And I failed this time.”
“Don’t get discouraged, partner; it takes time and practice.”
“What happens if we don’t have enough time and practice?” she asked worriedly. “I don’t want to get us killed, Marsh.”
“You won’t, Randee. Take my word for it.”
Randee replaced her pistol and sighed heavily. Floral scents filled the night air and stars twinkled overhead. She did not flinch when Marsh reached over and removed the ribbon from her hair. It felt good when he spread the tawny mane around her shoulders.
Marsh eyed the ravishing creature, and desire consumed him. He wanted her badly, but he didn’t know if he should make a move on her. To tempt them like this was crazy, perhaps unfair to her.
Randee knew this was the man she had been looking and waiting for, the man with whom she wanted to share herself. She sensed his desire and hesitation. His quiver ing hand stroked her cheek and he gazed longingly, undecidedly, into her eyes. His touch was so g
entle for a strong man, and his mood spoke so loudly for a quiet one. She yearned to yield to this force which was stronger than she was. It was foolish to fight their attraction, and it wasn’t wicked to surrender. She could never win a battle of resistance, so wasn’t it wiser to give in to such a powerful passion? She hesitated no longer. She knew this was who and what she wanted, needed, if only for a while.
Randee eased to her knees before him. Her hands grasped his face and drew it to hers, boldly and bravely sealing their lips. Marsh’s arms encircled her trembling body and pressed it tightly against his hard one. His mouth seared hers, revealing the extent of his matching desire. His lips traveled her face, pressing kisses to every inch. His respiration was ragged, as was hers. Their mouths fused again, swiftly, urgently, hungrily. As his hands wandered up into her thick hair, her head drifted backward to allow his lips to roam her neck. Her hands slipped down his chest, beneath his arms, and around his back.
Almost breathlessly, Marsh separated them and warned, “I’m a man without a home and a future, Randee. I’m a loner and a drifter. I don’t want’ to mislead you. I can’t make you any promises tonight just to entice you into surrendering, much as I want you like crazy.”
Randee’s gaze met his. He could cleanse her of her dirty past. His touch could erase that of Payton Slade. Her willing surrender could remove the guilt and shame of her helplessness with her stepfather’s lewd demands. Yet, that wasn’t why she wanted and needed him. She loved him and desired him above all other men. She told him hoarsely, “Here and now are all that matter. No promises, Marsh, from you or from me. We need and desire each other, so that’s all that counts tonight, nothing more.”
Marsh knew that Randee wasn’t playing hard or easy to get. She was just being honest with herself and with him. He liked that. She knew what she wanted—him— and she wasn’t afraid to follow her desires. She wanted to do things, enjoy life, and do so with him. “What about Brody Wade?” he had to ask.
Passions Wild And Free Page 19
