The Defiant Hearts Series Box Set

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The Defiant Hearts Series Box Set Page 18

by Sydney Jane Baily


  "Stop looking at me that way," he fairly growled as he began unbuttoning his shirt "or you'll be my undoing."

  She laughed at the sight of him struggling with his shirt buttons and then sobered up quickly as he began to unbutton the snug denim trousers that had been driving her wild. Suddenly, a noise that was unmistakably a horse's whinnying sounded outside the window. She froze. He froze.

  She started to stand up, but Reed paused only a moment to glance between the curtains before climbing onto the bed beside her. He gathered her against him and then eased her down onto his pillow. Once again, she breathed in the delicious scent of him as it wafted from his bedding and filled her senses.

  "Only Alfred and my horse moving about," he said.

  Charlotte had already forgotten, too distracted by the rough feeling of his denims against her bare skin. It was heaven. As she pressed her lower body against him, Reed looked down between them, realizing what she was doing, and his mouth curved.

  "You are so sensual," he breathed against her hair and treated her to a grinding of his hips against hers, deftly holding her in place with his strong hands on her hips. "Is that what you want?"

  But she could not answer; her eyes closed, her lips parted, and it seemed a struggle just to remember how to breathe. Her loins were on fire and dampened at the same time by the identical moist heat that seemed to be pulsing through her veins.

  She felt the hard ridge of his desire straining against his trousers as he pressed deeply between her legs, brushing the silken flesh of her woman's core.

  "Ohh," she breathed, gripping his shoulders with tense fingers, knowing that there was more, that she should be patient and let him remove all his clothes. Instead, she shuddered, knowing instinctively that she was already so far along a path, there was no stopping.

  She didn't want the pressure on her mound or the rasping between her thighs to stop. She thought she said that, thought she heard her own voice, breathy and thick, in her ears, pleading something.

  Then there was only Reed, speaking softly, reassuringly, not only continuing the gentle assault on her body but heightening it with increasing speed of his hips. Then he bent his head lower, and he touched her breast with his lips. She felt as though she was shattering.

  She cried out, raising her hips off the bed and grasping his bent head, as he nibbled on her breast. She was far away, light as a fall leaf, lifted away on a breeze, and she thought she would keep drifting endlessly farther away on the ripples of pleasure when finally it ceased, and she began to settle back into herself.

  She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice.

  "Are you all right?" he asked her.

  What a question! "But I—" She felt a momentary pang of selfishness. "I did nothing but take from you. I didn't even let you finish getting undressed."

  He laughed then, a raspy male sound that made her shiver. "You have no idea how intoxicating it is to watch a woman as she first discovers the sensuality that is inside her. I've never experienced anything like it before."

  She digested his words: Was that what she had just done? Discovered her own sensuality, and in Reed's arms? She stretched and felt as if she could purr. He had never experienced that before. She didn't want to ask what he meant, though he had hinted at the jaded and cynical women of his acquaintance.

  Could it be true that she was the first innocent he'd ever bedded? It seemed to her as if virgins would be lining up for the privilege of having Reed Malloy deflower them. Then she remembered that she hadn't even been deflowered yet, and she decided to offer him that gift if he would accept it.

  He bent to kiss her again. Then they both heard the unmistakable sound of a wolf's howl. They both stopped.

  "The horses," she began. "Alfred—"

  "They should be able to take care of themselves," Reed assured her, but he was already kneeling on the bed and throwing open the curtains. The sunlight streamed in and he scanned the meadow beside the house. "Have you seen any wolves around lately?"

  "No, only during hard winters, not usually this late in the spring."

  She sat up beside him on the bed, grabbing at the blankets to cover herself. "If they can't find deer, they go after livestock. But we don't have a lot of cattle around here, so they just pass through."

  Then they heard it again, a lone cry that made the hair stand up on Charlotte's neck.

  "I don't know much about them," Reed said, "but I'm a little worried about—"

  "The children!" She was off the bed in a flash and heading down the hall to her bedroom. She heard Reed go down the stairs moments later, as she hastened into her chemise, skirt and blouse, before running to catch up with him. He was in her front parlor, taking the gun down from above the fireplace.

  "An old Sharps," he murmured, looking over the single-shot rifle. "Does it work?" he asked as she stopped in the doorway.

  "It used to. My father used it. I know Thaddeus did, too." She closed her mouth, realizing she was babbling in her fear. "The bullets are on the whatnot." She hurried over to the corner shelves and reached up to the highest one. "I've got them." She handed the small box to Reed.

  "Let's get going," he said. Charlotte watched him change from the passionate lover of a moment ago to the steely, collected man who had first knocked at her door, ready to slay dragons for these two children.

  Chapter 9

  As they saddled up their horses, there was no embarrassment. It was almost as if the intimacy between them had never happened. They rode toward the Cuthins' homestead, less than a mile away. Charlotte, tense, leaned forward, looking ahead for any signs of a timber wolf pack, while Reed scanned from side to side.

  They heard the wolf howl again, nearer now. It sent shivers down Charlotte's spine and caused Reed to urge his horse to a gallop.

  And then loudly, plainly, bloodcurdlingly, they heard Lily scream. Charlotte felt her heart jump into her mouth and stay there. Terrified, neither of them spoke. There was no point, no time. They simply headed for the sound, and then they heard it again.

  "It's good," Reed called to her above the sound of the galloping hooves. "Lily's voice will keep it at bay. Thomas should call out, too."

  She knew they shared the same fear—what if something had happened and Thomas wasn't able to yell anymore? She shuddered at the thought, but they were close, and she trusted that Reed was a capable, intelligent man. Everything would be all right.

  She caught herself at that instant—unable to believe she was relying on someone else, and such a foolish reliance at that! Reed could no more guarantee the children's safety than could she, but it was comforting to share the responsibility, nonetheless.

  "There," he yelled. "Over by those pines."

  Charlotte looked to where Reed gestured. Sure enough, there was Lily, her back against a tall pine tree, a small branch in her hands, and a lone gray wolf, with its broad head and long body, sitting nearby. Thomas was nowhere to be seen.

  She'd never seen anything similar before, never feared for her safety in all these years. Why now? Charlotte sent up a silent prayer that they would all get out of this safely.

  Reed halted his horse and, in quick succession, slid off, braced himself, his feet slightly apart, and fired the rifle up in the air. The wolf barely took a second to look their way before it took off at a dead run.

  Charlotte kicked Alfred forward, riding straight for Lily and was on the ground at a stumbling run before her horse even came to a standstill. She knelt down, gathering the little girl into her arms, tears coursing down Lily's pale face.

  "It's all right, honey," she said, cradling Lily, who wrapped her arms tightly around Charlotte's neck.

  Charlotte heard Reed's horse approach, and he was beside them in an instant, joining them on the ground and reaching out to touch Lily's arm.

  "Sweetheart, where's Thomas?" Reed asked, his voice remaining steady.

  "He... he fell in the ground," Lily said between sobs, "we were together and then... I don't know," she wailed.
r />   "Sshh," Charlotte hugged her tightly again and stroked her hair, trying to quieten her.

  "What do you mean?" Reed asked. "Did the wolf chase him?" Charlotte could hear the tension in his voice as he struggled not to frighten Lily with the urgency of finding her brother. "Think, Lily, which way did he go?"

  Charlotte felt the little girl stiffen in her arms. "One question at a time," Charlotte cautioned, trying to keep Reed from overwhelming the eight-year-old.

  But Lily visibly gathered herself together, straightening her shoulders and looking around her. "We went to look for gold," she said, "over there." She pointed toward the foothills. Charlotte went cold all over.

  "The mines," she said. "Reed, they went to the old mines." She had told the children about the old mining camp one night as a bedtime story. Reed rose to his feet slowly.

  Lily continued. "Doctor Cuthins got called away, so Mrs. Cuthins, said we could walk straight home. But we didn't." She started crying again. "I know you said not to, Aunt Charlotte, but we just wanted to take a look." She gulped for air. "You made it sound so exciting."

  Charlotte had always known the mines had to be particularly dangerous for it was the one place her easygoing father forbade them to go. Nevertheless, Thaddeus had explored the passages thoroughly.

  She looked up at Reed. "There are deep shafts; they're boarded up of course, but the wood is very old."

  She didn't have to say more; she could see in his face that he understood the danger.

  "We'll need a lantern and rope," Reed said. "Lily, when he fell in, could you still see him?"

  "No, but I could hear him. He was crying, and I told him I'd get you. Then I saw the wolf."

  "I'll get supplies," Charlotte said. She let Reed give her a helping hoist onto Alfred. "I'll be quick, I know where everything is. And I'll take Lily home." She reached her arms out so Reed could hand her the little girl.

  "No," Lily said. "I'm not going without my brother." She ended on a hiccupping sob.

  Reed and Charlotte looked at each other. Then Reed lifted Lily easily onto his horse and swung up behind her. "Tell me which way to go."

  "Due west," Charlotte pointed, "just over that hill. Not far at all. You'll see the old water tank. And there's a shack, but it's all fallen down."

  He nodded. Charlotte could see by the creases in his brow that he was already focused on finding the little boy.

  "We'll meet you there," he told her and urged his horse forward.

  For a second she wished she was taking Lily with her; she wanted her safely at home. But where in the world could be safer than Reed's embrace? He was no longer touching her, yet still she felt his strength and took comfort.

  "Come on, boy," she said to Alfred and rode home as fast as he could carry her.

  * * *

  Charlotte had run at breakneck speed into her barn to get the supplies, but still she felt increasingly frustrated by the amount of time she had taken. As she approached the mines, she wished fervently that Teddy were around to help find Thomas.

  The afternoon sun was already going down when she crested a foothill and spied Reed's horse tied to a tree in front of an old mine. Lily sat beside the tree, but there was no sign of Reed.

  "Where is Mr. Malloy?" she asked Lily as she dismounted and tethered Alfred.

  "I don't know. He told me to stay put."

  "And you're being a very good girl. You keep watch on the horses." She walked a few feet away.

  "Reed," she called out, breaking the tranquility of the setting.

  Her voice seemed to echo in the silence of the hills, and she waited for an answer. Nothing. She felt her skin go clammy. What if he were in trouble, too?

  "Reed," she cried out again, hearing the slight panic in her own voice.

  "Over here."

  She could have cried with relief at the sound of his deep voice, and she ran toward it recklessly.

  "Be careful," he called out as she stumbled over the cover of one mine and nearly landed in the open hole of another.

  "Those are air shafts," he told her, seemingly rising out of nowhere in front of her, but she could see upon closer inspection that he was in the entrance to one of the old tunnels.

  "Have you found him?" she asked, feeling better already at the sight of him.

  But he shook his head. "I thought I heard a sound a few minutes ago, but now, nothing. Obviously, no one's done anything out here in years. It's a death trap."

  She nodded. "Where should we start?"

  "Wherever a five-year-old would start," Reed said, looking around. "Probably—"

  "Help!"

  The voice was small and sounded far away. It turned Charlotte's blood to ice and confirmed her greatest fears. There was no doubt now. Thomas was underground.

  "Help!" They heard him again.

  He was perhaps only yards away, down below their feet. "We're here, Thomas, right here," she called to him.

  Reed said nothing, just scanning. "There," he said, walking carefully but purposefully to cover the distance between the calls for help and the air shaft. "He must have fallen right in here."

  Charlotte came up beside him. It was just a black hole in the ground. She dropped to her knees in the dirt. What if they couldn't reach him? What if he were injured?

  "Thomas, we're here, honey. Are you all right?" There was no answer at first. She tried to clamp down her fears. She'd be no help if she panicked. Then he called out again, "Help."

  Reed stood up and looked at her, really looked at her.

  "It's too small for me to fit in there."

  She took a deep breath, knowing what he was saying, and she didn't hesitate. "I'll go in. You can lower me down easily."

  "Can you handle it?"

  Fear of being lowered into the darkness, of crawling creatures, of suffocating, of being buried alive, and a million other nameless dreads swirled through her head, making her want to flee.

  Instead, she did what she'd done before jumping into their game of tag—she tucked her skirt into her waistband and rolled up her sleeves.

  "You'd better tie your hair up, too. It might catch on something."

  Quickly, efficiently, but with shaking hands, Charlotte twisted the length of her hair into a knot and tugged it tightly.

  "Did you get a lantern?"

  "It's over by Alfred." Reed was there and back in a flash, leading his horse. He had the lantern in one hand, and rope in his other hand. "Only one of the ropes is long enough to do us any good. I'll have to lower you down first, then the lantern."

  She nodded.

  "We'll go slowly," he told her, not waiting for her consent before beginning to tie the rope around her. He threaded it around her thighs and created a harness of sorts. As he fastened a secure knot in front, his fingers working deftly, his eyes caught hers and held them. "If I could do this, I would."

  "I know." She wished her voice hadn't come out as a feeble whisper. At that moment, Thomas called out again.

  "Hurry," Charlotte added, almost desperate to begin her part in the rescue. As he finished securing the rope to his own horse's saddle, he returned to where she stood by the dark hole, she looked up at him. "Reed"

  Without warning, he lowered his head and kissed her. It was quick and hot and fervent, and it gave her the courage she needed.

  "Not a dull moment since we arrived, eh?" he said, checking the rope.

  "There's a lot to be said for dull." She couldn't believe she was joking with him as she stepped toward the air shaft, but she got to her knees and stuck her head down. Yup, pitch black and musty.

  "Feet first," he told her, and she sat on the edge of the darkness, dangling her legs into the dank air.

  "Here goes." She didn't hesitate anymore, but allowed Reed to help her in.

  For a moment, she wondered if she'd be able to get her hips into the hole, but she pushed and all at once, she was in, her shoulders slipping easily through where Reed's would have stuck fast. Then there was nothing.

  Charlott
e dangled in the darkness, the rope cutting into her legs with only her skirt for padding. She thought she might scream. She did, but it was Thomas's name that came out of her frightened lips. For a moment, nothing, and then she heard him.

  "I'm here, Aun' Charlie."

  He didn't sound so far away after all. Reed was lowering her steadily down, and then her leg brushed against something. She flung her hand out in a panic and winced as something cut deep into her hand.

  "Try not to swing," he called to her, and Charlotte forced herself to keep still as she went ever deeper into the darkness.

  "Are you all right?" Reed called down. She looked up, able to make out the shape of his head framed by the light above him.

  "I think so. I'm almost at the—" her feet touched down, "the bottom. I made it."

  "Untie the rope and I'll lower down the lantern."

  It seemed to take her fingers forever to work. Her hands were shaking, but she breathed deeply, trying not give in to the terror of the utter blackness. Reed was right there above her, and Thomas was somewhere close by. It was just the thought of creeping crawlies and slithering creatures that made her skin prickle with fear.

  "Here's the rope," she called up to him, and the last tangible contact to Reed disappeared from her grasp. She waited, thankful that he kept up a steady stream of commentary as he told her exactly what he was doing. Suddenly, she felt something brush against her foot, and she couldn't help the shrill scream that erupted from her.

  "Hang on, Charlotte. The lantern's coming down now." He'd already lit it and the bright light was descending like a beacon. She could now see wooden structures around her, with posts were going straight. Good, she thought, at least the dirt wasn't going to cave in on them any minute.

  Soon, the lantern was dangling beside her, shining light all around.

  It was not as bad as she'd expected once the candlelight chased the darkness down the passages to the right and left of her. There were cobwebs strung from the wooden beams that lined the passages, and a ladder with broken rungs against the cavernous wall, but nothing scary in sight. Then she saw what it was that had touched her as a long pink tail disappeared down the passage out of sight. She shuddered.

 

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