Anna Finch and the Hired Gun (22 page)

She nodded and buried her face in his chest.

Tightening his grip, Jeb plunged into the icy water. The shock of the temperature stole his breath, but the woman attached to his side kept him moving.

By the time his feet hit something hard, he was breathing again. Rock turned to sand or perhaps mud, which gave way under his weight. Jeb backtracked and pressed Anna closer to him as the water boiled around them.

The bank here was rocky and nearly impassable, so Jeb looked farther downstream to find a spot where he’d have more luck climbing out. Moving that direction was as simple as curling up his legs and allowing the current to carry them.

Then his boots caught in Anna’s hem. The resulting tangle gave them both a good dunking, and in the process, Anna slipped from his grip.

He lunged after her as she slid downstream, reaching for her foot. He caught her shoe, which only slowed her down slightly before it came off, and she floated out of reach.

A boulder of decent girth loomed in her path. Jeb shouted a warning, causing her to turn around. He reached for her outstretched hands but missed. She hit the boulder hard and stopped, and from her expression and the sound she made upon impact, she’d likely have a headache.

A second later, Jeb slammed against her, pinning her between him and the rock.

He ended up nose to nose with her, and for a moment, the breath went out of him for reasons that had nothing to do with the coldness of the water or the force of his impact. With one hand, he braced himself against the rock while with the other he lifted the curtain of hair covering her face.

“You all right?” he managed as he fought to keep a respectable distance between them. The water wouldn’t allow it, however, and Jeb ended up too close for comfort with the woman he was paid to protect. “Looks like you’ve landed between a rock and a hero.”

“Funny,” she said, though she clearly thought it anything but. “And I’ll have the bump on my head to show for it.”

Despite her ability to respond, Jeb knew he had to get her out of the water, and fast. “Can you hold on tight one more time? Here.” He gently pried her hands off the rock and put them around his neck.

“This is exactly like
The Tale of the Terrible Tide
, only in that story it was the ocean and she fell in when the ship hit the rocks, but it was still wet. And had rushing water. And a handsome hero.” Wide eyes met his. “Don’t let go,” she said. “No matter what, do not let me go.”

A handsome hero?
Jeb managed a grin. “I was about to tell
you
that. Now here we go.”

“Wait!”

He froze. “What?”

Those eyes, wide as they could be, locked on to his. “Just once more. In case we drown …”

“What?” he demanded. Something hard slammed against his shoulders, and a piece of the wagon bobbed past.

When he turned back to her, Anna wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Or made a valiant effort at it. Her lips landed just north of their intended spot and brushed his skin before she bounced backward and slammed against the boulder again. Jeb blinked.

“We could die,” she seemed to offer as an excuse.

Realizing what she wanted, Jeb felt a surge of emotion he hadn’t experienced in years. “Then I’ll not have it on my conscience that you went to your reward with a deed left undone.”

He fitted his lips over hers and forced himself to slowly and thoroughly kiss the woman who’d shot him even though everything in him told Jeb to get her out of the water.

Finally the need to escape won out, and he ended the kiss. “I’m going to get us out of here now,” he said. “All you need to do is hold on tight. Can you do that?”

The word “yes” was a soft whisper against his neck that he couldn’t afford to think on more than a second.

“I’ll get us out of here, then. Long as you don’t have any more hidden weapons.”

“Weapons?” Anna’s fingers tangled in Jeb’s shirt, her other arm wrapped around his waist. The water was cold. So very cold.

“I’m teasing,” the Pinkerton said, his breath warm against her neck. “Now, much as I’m enjoying this conversation, we’ve both got to get out of this water.”

“Mr. Sanders,” she said as she clutched him tighter. “You kissed me.”

Her words hung in the air as the water swirled around them. The Pinkerton appeared to be considering a response. “Miss Finch,” he finally said, “I’m afraid you’re getting hypothermia. I kissed you because you asked me to.”

“That would explain it,” she said.

“Would it?” He shook his head. “I’m glad you’ve got an explanation, because I certainly don’t.” He gathered her closer and studied
something on the bank. “Now, why don’t you keep your talking to a minimum and follow my instructions instead?”

When she did not respond, the Pinkerton leaned down to brush her lips with his one more time. “Miss Finch, you’ll not catch me doing this again, but if kissing you gets us out of this river, I’ll suffer through it.”

“If you insist.” She leaned against him. “Perhaps having a Pinkerton in my father’s employ isn’t so awful after all.”

“Now I know I’ve got to get you warm and dry. You’re talking foolishness.”

He started to move away, and Anna caught him. “Mr. Sanders, I’m in full possession of my faculties. I realize we’re in quite a jam.” Water splashed over his shoulder and hit her full in the face, causing Anna to gasp. When she recovered, the Pinkerton was holding her close.

“You were saying?”

“I was saying that I can barely feel my arms and legs. The water’s rushing by at a dangerous speed. I’m not unaware of the danger.” She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “But your kisses, well …” Dare she continue?

“Miss Finch, I really must get you out of here before—”

She bobbed up on the next rush of water to capture his lips once again. “There,” she said as warmth flooded her, “I won’t freeze before we reach the bank now.”

He lifted a dark brow. “Let me get this straight. You were using my kisses to keep warm?”

Anna nodded. The truth, in a way, but she’d not admit to anything more. How could she tell him that while she’d been kissed, she’d never been well and truly kissed by a man with his abilities?

“In that case,” he said slowly, “we’d best get your temperature up before we take that swim.”

And with that, he leaned down to kiss her. This time slowly. Heedless of the icy waters tangling her skirts and rendering her unable to move, Anna kissed him back, fully aware that once they were back on dry land, she’d be held to a higher standard of propriety.

“Miss Finch,” he said, pulling away. “Now I believe we’ve both got something we’d prefer your father not hear about.”

Jeb pushed away from the rock. For a minute, maybe two, Jeb allowed the current to drag them along until they reached the spot where it looked the most favorable for escape. Jeb maneuvered himself between Anna and the bank, then lunged backward. If anyone ended up with a headache this time, it would be him.

In a matter of seconds, he was out of the stream and on the bank, though he still felt water against his skin. It was raining.

Anna was still tangled in his arms, and it took a moment to convince her to loosen her grip on his shoulders. She fell back on the grass.

“Anna?” Her gaze focused on him. “Nod if you’re not harmed.” She continued to stare, so Jeb grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m …” She barely blinked. “I’m fine. I think.” Miss Finch lifted her hand to point. “But your hat … go get it.”

“My what?” He looked the direction she pointed and spied his Stetson lodged in the brush a few feet away. It was an easy grab, but any minute it would likely be lost downstream.

“I can get another hat.” When she protested, he shook his head. “All right, then. Don’t move. No matter what,
do not move
. Promise me.”

“Promise,” she said as she swiped at the raindrops pelting her face. “Do be safe, please.”

Jeb snagged his hat on the second try and stuffed it atop his head. Not the best-looking sight, he was certain, but at least his favorite hat was still his.

With a grin meant to keep her seated, Jeb made his way back to her. For a rich girl, she was handling the situation quite well.

He saw her lower lip tremble and looked up at the sky. “Not exactly walking weather,” he said as casually as he could manage. “Why don’t we get out of this before things get any worse?”

“The weather or the situation?” Anna said with a half-hearted chuckle.

“I do love a woman with a sense of humor.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “I’m thinking if we head downstream we might have better luck.”

She gestured upstream as thunder rumbled in the distance. “I have a favorite spot. It’s small, but we might be able to stay out of the rain.” Her voice was weaker than he expected. “That way.”

“It’s not a log, is it?”

“Stop teasing,” she said.

Lightning zagged across the sky. “If I needed a sign, I’d say that’s it.” She wobbled backward, and Jeb tugged on her wrist. “But I don’t think I’m going to let you walk.”

He swept her off her feet.

While the feisty gal had nearly had the fight drowned out of her
already—or kissed out of her—she still gave him trouble as he attempted to hold her against him and climb the muddy riverbank. Finally, he stopped.

“Miss Finch,” he said as the rain pelted them, “I’m either going to carry you to safety or throw you back in the river. Which will it be?” He could see the indecision on her face, but all the fight went out of her. “All right, then. Be still and just maybe we’ll get there. Now show me again where we’re going.”

“There,” she said pointing to a spot up ahead. “See the rock that juts out?”

Up ahead, grass carpeted a spot under a rocky outcropping that looked like it might offer shelter from the storm. He moved toward it as the raindrops spattered around them.

When he set his delicate cargo on her feet, she slid inside a large cleft in the rocks and curled into the farthest corner of the makeshift shelter. It fit her perfectly.

“Looks like you’ve done that a few times,” he said. “All you need now is a good book and a light to read by.”

It was a poor attempt to take her attention off their circumstances, but it appeared to work, at least for a second. As Miss Finch ran her hand through soggy hair, the corners of her lips turned up in the beginnings of a smile.

And all he could think of was how well his lips fit over hers and how brazen she’d been to speak of her appreciation. It was a dangerous course of thought and one he knew better than to pursue, especially in the close confines of their refuge.

“Now, that’s better,” he said. “I was afraid your smile was drowned with your hat.”

She affected what he hoped was only a teasing frown. “If my hat looks as poor as yours, then it’s better off floating away. At least your mustache is still well stuck.”

“Mustache?” He’d completely forgotten about the remainder of his disguise. “That must be why my kisses were so effective in warming you.”

When she blushed, Jeb decided he’d gone too far. Removing the Stetson, he shook off the water. Miss Finch squealed as the dampness spattered her, though it did nothing that the rain and the river hadn’t already done.

“You wound me,” he said in his best imitation of the British upper crust. “A man’s hat is a treasure to be revered and not to be cast aside.”

“Are you a married man, Mr. Sanders?”

The question took him by surprise. “Would I kiss you if I were?” he snapped. Realizing the look on her face was not one of humor but of horror, he hurried to right the wrong. “Do you think my unmarried state might have something to do with my hat?”

There was a moment when she seemed unsure whether he was serious. Then, as he allowed the slightest beginnings of a grin, she did too.