She didn’t understand this heat. Where had it come from? How had it happened? Her breathing was quite erratic. And her heart was beating so wildly, she was certain the marshal could hear it.
The marshal was too busy with problems of his own. He wasn’t certain just what had come over him. Maybe it was the fact that he’d gone too long without food or rest. Or the charms of a female. Whatever the reason, he was feeling downright frisky and lightheaded.
“I must say, it’s mighty fine fabric.” He drew her close and ran one hand down her back, then up again. “We don’t see too many soft, pretty things here in Hanging Tree. I don’t believe I’ve felt anything this soft in a very long time. In fact, ma’am, if you don’t mind, I’d like to feel more.”
Tiny fires ignited all along her spine, heating her blood, heating even the air that backed up in her lungs. There was a strange tingling deep inside, leaving her weak and trembling. Dieu, was it possible to faint from a single touch?
“Um-hmm,” he muttered against her temple. “I was right. Softer than a newborn foal.”
“Marshal Regan.” She pushed ineffectively against his chest, but he only tightened his grasp, pinning her hands between his body and hers, so that she was helpless to resist.
She started to wriggle and squirm. But as she turned her face, his mouth covered hers in a hard, punishing kiss. A kiss made more heated by anger, by frustration. A kiss so startling, so demanding, she couldn’t move. All she could do was stand very still and absorb the shock.
His lips moved over hers with a thoroughness that left her drained. And still he continued moving his mouth on hers, drawing out every sweet, exotic flavor.
He hadn’t meant to kiss her. In fact, even now, he didn’t know how it had happened. He’d merely meant to intimidate her. But the minute his mouth was on hers, he realized his mistake. He’d been wanting to kiss her since the first time he’d seen her in Hanging Tree, all bold and sassy and done up in red satin. But one kiss and he was hurtling toward disaster, feeling things he hadn’t expected, wanting things he had no right to.
Almost at once he lifted his head and stared down at her. God in heaven, he was reeling as if he’d just taken a blow to the midsection. His heart was racing as though he’d chased a gang of outlaws up one side of Widow’s Peak and down the other.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d kissed women before. Plenty of them. But he couldn’t ever recall feeling like this. The taste of her was as smooth as Buck’s best whiskey. And the sweet, earthy scent of her, like crushed roses, filled his lungs and clouded his mind.
What was worse, if he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d never been kissed before. But that was impossible. It wasn’t possible for a woman to look like that and still be innocent.
Damned if he wasn’t going to have one more taste, just to make sure.
For a moment Ruby was certain he was as astonished as she. But then she caught sight of the slight curve of his lips. And the roguish glint of something in his eyes. Laughter? Was this big, rough Texan laughing at her?
With an oath she started to push away. But before she could break free he lowered his head and nuzzled her lips. It was the merest touch of mouth to mouth. A kiss so gentle, it felt like a dusting of butterfly wings. He held her as though she were a bunch of fragile wildflowers.
Her lips trembled under his, and she hesitated, unsure how to react. Her mind told her to back away. But her body betrayed her. Her hands crept up his chest and curled into the front of his shirt. A little sigh escaped her lips. And deep inside her, a warm liquid feeling pulsed.
Now she felt herself bound by something even stronger than his hands. A need. Strange and new. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. It was impossible to think. All she could do was feel. And oh, the feelings that rushed through her, overwhelming her with their intensity. Never, never had she known such a kiss.
There had been many who had tried to steal a kiss from Ruby’s lips. And a few who had succeeded. But they had been clumsy boys, with eager, heated mouths and awkward, hesitant touches.
This was no boy. This was a man. A man who feasted on her lips as though they were the sweetest taste in the world. A man who drank from her lips as though dying of thirst. A man who knew just how to use his hands to soothe, to explore, to caress. Those same hands that held a gun, and subdued hardened criminals, were skimming her body with the greatest of care.
She swayed slightly. Just when she thought her legs would surely fail her, his hands tightened at her shoulders. He lifted his head and held her a little away, while he studied her with a strange, intense look.
“You...” She struggled for breath, all the while cursing the fact that, for the first time in her life, her clever, facile mind seemed to have deserted her. She could think of nothing to say that would cover this moment of awkwardness. “You are too bold, Marshal.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took in a deep draft of air. Damned woman had a way of making him feel like a kid with his nose pressed to a candy jar. And a handful of pennies to spend on anything he wanted. And like a kid, he wanted it all.
“I will remind you, Marshal, that I am a lady.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She swallowed, playing for time. “I expect an apology.”
“An apology?”
She gave him what she hoped was her most challenging look. “For your rude behavior. As well as your ridiculous accusation.” She sniffed. “As if I would resort to stealing cheap trinkets.”
“You mean these, ma’am?” He held aloft the beads. “That I found in your pocket?”
She stared at the beads, then at his face. Her mouth dropped open, but no words came out. So that’s what his hands had been doing. Not skimming her body. Searching her pockets.
With a knowing smile he offered his arm. “Allow me to assist you into your rig, Ruby,”
She was nearly speechless. But she recovered quickly. “You mean I’m free to go?”
“Go? Why, yes, ma’am.” He steeled himself against the heat of her touch as he helped her up. The taste of her was still warm on his lips. And the earthy scent of her still filled his lungs, making every breath the sweetest of tortures.
He surprised her by climbing up beside her and taking up the reins.
“Where do you think you’re going, Marshal?”
As he caught up the reins, he realized his hands were none too steady. That knowledge only fueled his rapidly returning temper. “Why, with you, Ruby. To jail.”
Chapter Four
“Here we are.” Marshal Regan drove Ruby’s rig around to the back of the jail, where he tied the horse, then offered a hand down.
She shot him a hateful look. She’d tried arguing, threatening, even tears, which had now dried on her lashes. Nothing would change his mind. He was determined to humiliate her in front of the entire town.
“I’ll send Arlo out to notify your sisters,” he said as he led her inside and opened the door to a cell.
“Why must you tell them about this?”
“Because,” he replied patiently, “your housekeeper, Carmelita Alvarez, will be worried when you don’t come home tonight. And she’ll send her husband, Rosario, chasing after all your sisters, getting them all riled up. Besides, Ruby,” he added with an extra bite of sarcasm, “you need a keeper. Maybe one of your sisters can talk some sense into you.”
Now it wasn’t just the town, she realized. He intended to embarrass her in front of her new family, as well.
He was rewarded by a string of oaths as he herded her into the cell.
“This way, Ruby.”
With a last muttered curse she stepped inside and watched as he closed the cell door and turned the key.
While all this went on, Arlo stood gaping, unable to believe that one of the Jewel sisters was actually being held prisoner in the town jail.
In the cell next door to hers, Beau Baskin, the town drunk, was beginning to sober up in a hurry. His eyes were nearly popping out of his head
at the sight of one of the Jewel ladies behind bars.
Quent turned to his deputy. “I’d like you to ride out to the Jewel ranch and tell the housekeeper that Ruby is here. I wouldn’t want Carmelita to worry. Ask her to notify the other Jewel sisters that they can come and fetch Ruby in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.” Arlo was grinning, until he caught sight of Ruby. The smile was wiped from his face. Even with bars between them, he felt a rush of discomfort. This lady was definitely dangerous. Not the way Diamond was, with a gun. But those flashing eyes and sultry lips could flog a man at thirty paces.
He snatched up his hat and headed out the door.
When his deputy was gone, Quent walked to his desk and dropped the keys with a clatter. He was aware of Ruby still standing just inside the cell, her hands clenched at her sides, her eyes watching his every move.
“I am shocked and appalled, Marshal. Until today I was not aware of this cruel side of your nature,” she said.
“I’m sorry you see it that way, ma’am.” He sat down and began sifting through the papers that littered his desktop. The stage had apparently been through, and Arlo had dutifully piled on his desk a stack of Wanted posters, along with a letter from a sheriff in Waco warning of a jail break by a couple of hardened prisoners. Quent put his feet up and leaned back in his rickety chair, trying to concentrate. But it wasn’t easy, knowing Ruby Jewel was just a few feet away.
“I’m with you, Miss Ruby,” Beau said between hiccups from the other cell. “Marshal Regan’s the toughest lawman this side of the Rio Grande.”
“I’ll thank you not to interrupt,” Ruby said, causing his jaw to drop. She turned to the marshal, who was doing his best to ignore her. “If it’s your intention to humiliate me, Marshal, then you have succeeded. Once Arlo’s wife has told her friends Lavinia Thurlong and Gladys Witherspoon, the whole town will be laughing at me.”
“Now, that’s the truth,” Beau said, jumping right in. “Those two old biddies will spend the whole day running their legs off and flapping their jaws.”
“Not another word, cowboy,” Quent hollered. It galled him to know that Ruby and Beau were right. Effie Spitz couldn’t be trusted to keep a secret if her life depended on it. That was the only reason why town gossips Lavinia and Gladys cultivated her friendship. As the deputy’s wife, Effie could be counted on to know about every crime and scandal in the territory. Still, what was that to him?
“I think you ought to put the blame squarely where it belongs, Ruby. If you’re so worried about your reputation, you shouldn’t have stolen from that peddler.”
“I did not steal.” When Quent swiveled his head and fixed her with a look, she flushed. “Mama preferred to call it her petit vengeance. And it was only done to those who were found completely lacking in basic kindness.”
At her admission, his feet hit the floor. He tossed down the posters and crossed the room until he was standing just outside Ruby’s cell. “I don’t care what you call it. Or how many of your ancestors chose to practice it. It’s still against the law to help yourself to someone else’s property. And it’s my job to uphold the law.”
Her hands gripped the bars. Her voice frosted over. “How nice for you that you find your work so enjoyable, Marshal.”
Without thinking, he closed his hands over hers. “Do you think I liked arresting you?”
Her eyes flashed fire. “Liked it? No, Marshal. You loved it. On the way here you were positively gloating. It was apparent that you took great satisfaction in dominating me.”
Once again, it would seem, he’d miscalculated. He’d allowed himself to get too close to the fire. He could feel the heat of her, could almost taste the exotic, earthy flavor of those pouting lips. Still, with the bars between them, he released her hands and caught her roughly by the shoulders. It wasn’t the need to touch her, he told himself sternly. It was merely the best way to convey his anger.
“Woman, at this moment I’d take great satisfaction in hanging you. Now, give me some peace.”
He saw the way her eyes widened, in that brief second before they slanted with fury. Oh, there was fire there. And great inner strength. But there was something else. Something as yet undefined. Something that had flickered just for a moment, before being swept away.
Fear? Could this tough little female actually harbor some deep-seated fear? If so, was it a fear of the law? Of anyone in authority? Or just a fear of him personally?
She backed away, wrenching free of his grasp, breaking contact. As she rubbed her hands she muttered, “If my papa were still alive, you would not be treating me with such disdain, Marshal.”
“Yeah, well, your pa isn’t here to protect you now, Miss Jewel.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, relieved that he was no longer touching her. There was definitely something unsettling about getting too close to Ruby Jewel. He’d have to remember that in the future. “But if your pa was alive, he’d turn you over his knee and paddle your backside until you learned respect for the law.” He sauntered back to his desk. “Just remember. The law will treat you no better than anybody else.”
“I do not ask for better treatment. Only equal treatment.” She wanted to sink onto the edge of the cot. She was so weary. The emotions of this day had taken their toll. But she would not give in. Instead she stood, her spine stiff, her head high, watching Quent Regan shuffling through papers. “But I suppose that is the price I must pay for bearing my father’s name. Diamond said there will be many who will think they have something to prove to Onyx Jewel’s descendants.”
“I don’t give a—” He caught himself. It wasn’t his nature to swear in the presence of a lady. Even a lady like Ruby Jewel, whose vocabulary was as seasoned as a wrangler’s. “I don’t give a care about your last name.” Annoyed, Quent opened a desk drawer and swept the posters inside, slamming it shut with more force than necessary.
But the thought nibbled at the edges of his mind. Had he treated her more harshly than he should have, because of her name? After all, he reasoned, he’d already settled the debt with the peddler for a couple of dollars. It would have been enough to give her a good tongue-lashing and send her on her way.
Why, then, was she sitting in jail? Because, he admitted, the crime had occurred at the worst possible time. Giving chase to a couple of deadly outlaws had heated his temper considerably. And there was just something about Ruby Jewel that raised the heat another notch. She was like an itch that he couldn’t scratch.
“You sure do look beautiful, Miss Ruby,” Beau Baskin said from the bunk where he lay. “Damned if you aren’t the prettiest prisoner I’ve ever seen in a jail.”
“You shut your mouth, cowboy,” Quent snapped.
Ignoring Quent, Ruby bestowed a brilliant smile on the man in the next cell. “Thank you. At least there is one gentleman in this room.”
Quent felt a stab of something in his gut. Jealousy? Ridiculous. He’d never felt such an alien emotion in his life. Just because she was flaunting herself in front of that drunken cowboy was no concern of his. What Ruby Jewel did was her own business, unless, of course, she flouted the law.
Passing a hand over his face, he gave a hiss of frustration.
“Tired, Marshal?” the cowboy asked.
“Yeah. It’s been a hell of a day.” Quent slumped back in his chair.
“The marshal’s been up on Widow’s Peak catching himself a killer,” Beau explained to Ruby. “Arlo said he’d be burying the body first thing in the morning.”
“Body?” Ruby looked startled. “You...killed him?”
Quent didn’t bother to answer.
“It was probably the outlaw’s life or his,” Beau said matter-of-factly. “Most outlaws let their guns talk for them.”
For the first time Ruby took a good look at the marshal. His jacket was crusted with blood. His chin was darkened with a growth of dark stubble. And his eyes were red rimmed and weary. She felt a tiny twinge of guilt. But only a tiny one, as she decided to use his weariness to her own adva
ntage.
“I know what you need, Marshal. Whenever my papa came for a visit, Mama used to give him a back rub. He said he didn’t care how difficult the journey to Louisiana was, as long as he had that to look forward to. It made all the miles disappear, and his troubles along with it.”
Quent glanced over at those long, graceful fingers, clenching and unclenching with nerves. The thought of them rubbing and kneading his tired muscles almost brought a sigh from his lips. But he caught himself in time and shot her a cold look. “Don’t try to bribe me with back rubs, Miss Jewel. You’d better save them for yourself. That cot will prove to be none too comfortable.”
She stomped a tiny foot, annoyed that he’d seen through her little ploy. “I cannot bear to stay here until morning.” She wrinkled her nose and glanced toward the shabby cot. “On that.”
Quent picked up the ring of keys and crossed to each cell, checking the locks. “I know it’s not fit for a lady like you. But that’s what happens when ladies help themselves to what’s not theirs.”
She watched in sullen silence while he lifted a lantern from a nail on the wall and made his way to a back room. He unlocked the door and it swung inward. Ruby had a quick impression of a simple bed and nightstand, upon which rested a pitcher and basin.
“You’re taking away the lantern?” She swayed at the razor edge of fear that sliced into her.
“Yes, ma‘am. You don’t need light to sleep.” He turned. The flickering flame of the lantern cast his face in light and shadow. It was a handsome, dangerous face that would put the devil himself to shame. “Make yourself comfortable, ma’am. There’s a blanket at the foot of the cot. If you need anything else, just holler.”
Ruby Page 4
