Texas Heart

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  His fingers found her and brought her to peak after peak of sensations, Dazed and breathless, she tried to stop him, but he gave her no time to stop, to think.

  Of their own volition her hands moved over him, discovering rippled muscles along his shoulders and back.

  Her fingertips skimmed his stomach and moved lower until she felt him shudder at her touch.

  As she reached another peak, her hands clutched at his shoulders.

  With a groan he covered her mouth in a savage, desperate kiss and lowered himself to her.

  Still he hesitated.

  "Tell me," he whispered into her mouth.

  "Tell me you want me."

  Her words were a low guttural moan of desperation.

  "I--want--you--to--love--me."

  Hadn't he already told her he loved her?

  He couldn't remember.

  He couldn't think.

  Needs, raw, pulsing needs drove him over the brink.

  He took her then, forcing himself to go slowly, urging himself to be gentle.

  But as she moved with him, he forgot to be gentle.

  Passion, so long suppressed, exploded.

  In a frenzy they took each other on a journey beyond madness.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the stillness of predawn, Cole lifted himself on one elbow and stared down at the beautiful creature in his arms.

  Her pale golden hair spilled about the dark blanket like a scattering of moon dust.

  Her skin was white and as soft as a newborn foal's muzzle.

  Long spikey lashes created shadows on her high cheekbones.

  She had pulled a corner of the blanket over her, and he found himself mesmerized by the dark shadowy cleft between her breasts.

  What she had given him last night had been a very sPecial gift.

  She had given him herself, her love, without question, without conditions.

  A slow smile touched his lips.

  When had the little tomboy learned to be a wild, tempting seductress?

  When had the girl become so much woman?

  It was obvious that she had never before been with a man.

  And yet, for all her innocence, no woman had ever made him ache with such desPeration.

  All night they had loved, slept fitfully, then loved again.

  Each time they came together, they discovered new and won-derfid things about each other.

  Each time she had taken him higher.

  And each time he had wanted her more.

  He would never have enough of this woman.

  She had bewitched him.

  From this moment on, his life was forever tied to hers.

  He watched her stir and felt a tiny pinprick of fear.

  Such an alien feeling for him.

  But this small creature had the ability to terrify him.

  What if, in the cold light of morning, she regretted her actions?

  It was one thing to mistake gratitude for love.

  And under the intimate cover of darkness, it was a natural thing to give in to the passions that flowed.

  But now that dawn was approaching, would she feel shame or regret at what they had shared?

  As her eyelids flickered, he forgot to breathe.

  His heart forgot to beat.

  For a second Jessie held off the moment when she would come fully awake.

  Instead she lay quietly, savoring the warmth of the body beside hers.

  She knew him, knew his scent, knew his touch and the warmth of his breath.

  And she knew him in a way she would never know any other man.

  Love.

  It enveloped her in its warmth.

  So this was what it felt like to be loved.

  To awaken to the touch of a lover's hands, to be enfolded in strong arms was a very special feeling.

  "Good morning."

  She yawned, stretched.

  With a smile touching her lips, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a sweet feather-like kiss.

  The moment his lips found hers, he felt his heart begin to beat once more.

  Heat flowed through him, warming the chill that had settled around his heart.

  "I was afraid you might not like what you see," he murmured against her lips.

  "Umm."

  For long moments she appeared to be half-asleep.

  Then she startled him by her sudden catlike action.

  Rolling on top of him, she peered down into his face.

  As her hair swirled around him, she ran a finger across his scratchy stubble of beard.

  "And what do I see? Looks like a trail bum," she said in a husky voice.

  "Or maybe a horse thief.

  You definitely can't be the man I went to sleep with last night.

  "And why not?"

  He wound a strand of her hair around his finger and pulled her head down until her lips hovered a fraction above his.

  "The man I was with last night was handsome and smooth shaven. And you look more like a shaggy mule than a man."

  "Do I now?"

  He drew her head even lower and kissed the tip of her nose.

  "I know a foolproof way to determine if you're the same man."

  She wriggled about, aware that her movements aroused him.

  "Kiss me. If you are Cole Matthews, I'll know by your kiss."

  He fought back the wild surge of desire.

  How was it possible to want her again so soon?

  "Thank you, miss."

  His eyes glinted with humor.

  "And where would you like me to kiss you?"

  "Oh, you do manage to kiss me in the nicest Places."

  "So do you, as I recall."

  She felt a thrill at the intimacy of his tone.

  With a little laugh she ran her hand down his side until she felt him tremble, arousing him further.

  "Nervous, stranger?"

  "You're driving me crazy, Jessie."

  "Good. You're far too serious, You need to be a little crazy."

  "Serious, am I?"

  Without warning, he rolled them both over, pinning her beneath him.

  "What I'm about to do to you is very serious. So pay attention."

  He covered her mouth with his and kissed her until she was breathless.

  As his hands began to work their magic, she whispered, "I knew all along it was you, Cole."

  He had left his fingerprints on her body, her soul, her heart.

  "I'd know you even in the dark."

  "Stop talking, Jessie," he breathed against her mouth.

  "We have serious business to take care of."

  And then there was no need for words.

  They were lost in a world of feelings.

  A world of wild, primitive sensations.

  A world of love.

  Cole lathered his face and began removing his beard with a straight razor.

  All the while, Jessie watched in fascination, running her fingers along his smooth skin, distracting him until he managed to cut himself.

  When he swore low and fierce, she reminded him that he was in the presence of a lady.

  Minutes later she was peering into his chipped mirror from behind him, making faces that left him weak with laughter.

  "I can't shave and watch you making monkey faces at the same time."

  "Then I suggest you do one or the other. But hurry," she added, slipping the blanket from her naked shoulders.

  He finished shaving in minutes, then wiped the lather from his face before following her into the creek.

  Together they frolicked like two children.

  They teased, splashed and came together with soft, intimate touches.

  When they emerged, they dressed quickly to ward off the morning chill.

  While Cole rolled their blanket, Jessie started breakfast.

  By the time Danny and Thad awoke, venison snapped and sizzled in a skillet and coffee boiled over hot coals.

  The last of yesterday's rolls were he
ated, giving off the wonderful aroma of baking bread.

  An hour later they prepared to break camp and take to the trail once more.

  "You're awfully happy this morning, Jessie," Thad observed.

  "What happened to you last night?"

  "Nothing."

  She felt herself blush as Cole turned to give her a knowing look.

  As Jessie checked her saddlebags, Cole pressed something into her hand.

  Glancing down, she saw that it was the precious rose-scented soap.

  "Better not forget this," Cole murmured.

  "where did you find it?"

  "On the bank of the creek."

  He bent low, murmuring for her ears alone, "I look forward to having my back scrubbed with this again tonight."

  She gave a low throaty laugh that whispered over his senses, making him wish it was already evening.

  "And what if my brothers don't cooperate and go to sleep early enough?"

  "I'll wait all night if I have to. Sooner or later they have to fall asleep."

  "And what if I fall asleep first?"

  The laughter died in her throat when she glanced up, catching the simmering look in his eyes.

  "Believe me, woman, I'll find a way to wake you."

  She watched as he strode away, then pulled herself into the saddle.

  When she turned, she was dismayed to see Danny watching her with an odd look on his face.

  Before she could study him further, he wheeled his mount and took the lead.

  They had been in the saddle for hours, and Cole found himself constantly looking over his shoulder.

  Although he had seen nothing out of the ordinary, he had the distinct feeling that they were once again being watched.

  As the sun rose higher, Cole saw Danny veer off from the lead position.

  The lad spoke to Thad, then to Jessie, before urging his horse toward the spot where Cole followed at a slower pace.

  "Sun's so hot we're practically cooked," Danny called as he reined in his mount.

  "Why don't we head up toward those rock cliffs? There'd be some protection from the heat."

  "Maybe you're right."

  Cole shielded the sun from his eyes and tried to ignore the prickly feeling that had persisted for hours.

  "But let's stay close together."

  At Danny's arched brow he added, "Never know what we might be heading into."

  "Right."

  Danny squinted against the glare and wondered why Cole was being so skittish.

  Had he seen something suspicious?

  Or was it, as Danny suspected, because Cole was distracted by thoughts of his sister?

  Something hadhappened between them.

  Cole and Jessie seemed so aware of each other today.

  All morning he had seen the looks passing between these two.

  And even on the trail he had seen the way Jessie turned in the saddle from time to time to glance at the man who took up the rear position.

  "I'll keep Thad close to me. You keep an eye on Jessie."

  Cole nodded and waited while Danny rode ahead to tell the others about their plans.

  Within minutes they had turned their horses toward the outcropping of rocks that rimmed the trail.

  At Cole's command Jessie rode close to him.

  Beside her, Danny and Thad rode side by side.

  As they neared the cliffs, Cole heard the shrill cry of a hawk, He glanced skyward, then cursed his stupidity as the realization dawned.

  Though it was a perfect imitation of a hawk, it wasn't a bird at all.

  It was a signal.

  "Comanche. Hit the dust."

  Even while he slid from the saddle and reached for his gun, Cole's gaze was scanning the other three to make certain that they followed his terse command.

  Crouched behind his horse, he turned his full attention to the cliffs.

  Within seconds, dozens of Indians came streaming over rocks and boulders, brandishing bows and arrows or holding aloft glittering knives.

  Their blood curdling battle cries were enough to cause terror in the hearts of those who faced them.

  There was no way of knowing how many more Indians were still concealed behind the rocks.

  A tall Indian grabbed little Thad by the arms and tossed him high in the air, then caught him and pinned him in an iron grip.

  Immediately Danny aimed his buffalo rifle at his brother's captor: "Let my little brother go or I'll blow you apart," he warned.

  The Indian let out a whoop of laughter as three warriors knocked Danny to the ground and wrestled the rifle from his hands.

  They pinned his arms behind him, forcing him to watch helplessly as Jessie and Cole continued to fight for their lives.

  Three Comanche caught Jessie.

  Though she kicked and bit, she was no match for their strength.

  And when Cole tried to come to her aid, he found himself surrounded by fierce war-riots whose slashing knives and singing arrows quickly disabled him.

  His gun and rifle lay in the dust, kicked out of reach by moccasin-clad feet.

  His arms were pinned behind him in a painful, wrenching grip while blood oozed from half a dozen wounds.

  When all four had been subdued, they were forced to watch helplessly as the Indians taunted and threatened.

  Into their midst rode the Comanche chief astride a spotted Indian pony.

  In perfect English he called, "Woman-WithHairLikeThe-Sun."

  At Jessie's little gasp, Cole strained to see clearly the figure bathed in blinding sunlight.

  He felt a chill curl along his spine.

  The Indian Sat tall and straight on his pony, his dark hair falling in two braids to his waist.

  His shoulders were wide, the arms heavily muscled.

  His head was lifted in a proud tilt, the eyes dark and probing, the nostrils flared in contempt.

  In his hand was a lance decorated with eagle feathers.

  Cole had no doubt about the Indian's identity.

  Two Moons.

  Fierce warrior.

  Chief of the Comanche nation.

  "Why are you here?"

  Jessie called.

  "We've done nothing to you."

  "I have been following you. Have you forgotten that you are under my protection?" the Comanche chief asked sternly.

  "You are to be my woman."

  "She'll never be your woman."

  Despite the strong arms that held him, Cole nearly twisted free before being subdued once more by the warriors.

  For the first time, the Comanche chief turned his full attention from Jessie.

  Two Moons studied Cole with grave intensity, noting the finely honed muscles of his shoulders and upper arms, the powerful thighs.

  Because of this white man's barely contained rage, it took four warriors to hold him back.

  But it was the man's eyes that arrested the Comanche's gaze.

  This man had the narrowed, unblinking stare of a seasoned gunman.

  With this man there would be no hesitation, no backing away from a fight.

  And the chief was angry enough to enjoy a fight.

  But there was no time for such pleasures.

  With calculated disdain, Two Moons shifted his gaze back to Jessie.

  "You must give up this foolish journey. I have been patient long enough. Your father has joined the spirits of the dead.

  You will come with Two Moons and be his woman.

  ".

  "She's my woman."

  Cole's words were spoken with deadly calm.

  Jessie saw the Comanche chief's eyes narrow fractionally.

  At a single command from Two Moons, a Comanche warrior caught Cole in a stranglehold about the neck and brought his knife to Cole's throat, prepared to kill the white man who would defy his chief.

  "No."

  Jessie's eyes were wide and pleading.

  "Please.

  Don't hurt him.

  " Her voice trembled." Or my brothers.


  The chief hesitated, watching Jessie's eyes.

  "If you let him live, I'll..."

  She swallowed, knowing that once the words were spoken there was no way to take them back.

  "I'll go with you and be your woman."

  "So."

  Two Moons studied her closely.

  "Your father rejected my offer of two-and-ten ponies for you. Though he knew it was more than the Comanche had ever offered for a woman.

  And now you would give yourself to me for only the life of these two puny boys?"

  "And the man," she said quickly.

  Her words brought a scowl to the chief's face.

  "The man. Does this white man speak the truth? Has he made you his woman?" ' Jessie could feel the tension as everyone awaited her reply.

  If she told the truth, Cole would surely die for touching the woman Two Moons had singled out as his own.

  But even if she lied, there was no guarantee the Comanche wouldn't kill Cole, and kill her brothers, as well.

  She took a deep breath and decided to risk everything.

  "He speaks the truth. I am his."

  Both Danny and Thad stared in openmouthed surprise at Jessie's admission.

  The Comanche chief's eyes darkened with fury.

  As he began to lift his hand in signal for the warriors to kill, a girl's voice broke the stillness.

  "These are the white men who saved my life."

  Morning Light stumbled out from behind the shelter of a boulder.

  The man who had been trying to subdue her cast a terrified look toward his chief before hanging his head in shame.

  "It is not for you to speak," Two Moons shouted.

  "This is between Two Moons and the white woman."

  "These are the ones who saved me. He was their medicine man," she said, pointing toward Danny.

  "And the woman and man assisted him. Without them I would surely have died before reaching our people."

  Two Moons turned toward Jessie.

  "Does my sister speak the truth?"

  "Your sister?"

  Jessie's gaze shifted to the lovely young woman whose proud features were unmistakably the same as that of the man astride the pony.

  "Did she not tell you? Morning Light is sister to Two Moons, chief of the Comanche."

  Jessie swallowed back the knot of fear.

  She had seen how disdainfully the girl's words had been received.

  Still, it was their only hope.

  She would try anything to save the people she loved.

  And if she failed, it would no longer matter what happened to her.