Anything for You (11 page)

“Yes, but why are you trying to frighten me?”

“So you'll know that just because these men work with you doesn't mean you can trust them.”

Gypsy pressed her hand over her heart, which she feared had forgotten how to beat. If Adam even had a suspicion of the truth … no, he could not. She had burned the letter.

“Don't be silly,” she chided, hoping he did not hear the tremor in her voice. “No one wants to hurt me.”

His gaze, now as cold as the wind, raked along her, and she longed to pull back into the shadows. “These men might respect you, Gypsy, but they can't ignore that you're an incredibly lovely woman. Glenmark was an idiot to send you up here to be a temptation to his men.”

“I'm tired of listening to this nonsense. Why don't you go back to the saloon and give all the boys a good laugh?”

His crutch whipped in front of her. Using it like a shepherd's crook, he herded her to him. He did not touch her as he bent to whisper in her ear, “Don't be blind to the darker side of a man's soul, Gypsy. I can't be the only man who looks at your soft lips and hungers to taste them.”

An involuntary shiver coursed through her. His fingers settled on her shoulder, stroking her arm in a sinuous invitation. She put her hand over his and closed her eyes as his finger grazed her cheek and swept along her lips.

“So soft your lips are.” His velvety tone whipped her heart to a frantic beat. “Even when they snap at me, I want them on me.”

The cold scoured the heat from her face, but did not lessen the fever within her. Snow caught on her eyelashes and whitened her coat as he stepped away to climb onto the sled. He brushed snow off the seat and held out his hand to her. Silent, she watched her fingers rise to touch his.

He drew her up beside him. Slipping her arm through his, he reached for the reins and turned the sled into the night.

The voices and music from the tavern followed them only a short distance into the forest. The metallic song of the runners was nearly lost beneath the clump of the horse's hoofs on the packed snow. With snow whitening the tired drifts, the night closed around them.

Adam said quietly, “You might not have enjoyed the evening, but Nissa did.”

“More than Lolly.”

“Do I owe you a thank-you for defending my honor?”

With a laugh, she retorted, “I suspect I'm too late to save your honor, Adam.”

“Undoubtedly.”

She did not move away when his arm curved around her shoulders. The gentle pressure against her sleeve teased her to lean against him as she stared at the spiral of snowflakes. Even his thick coat could not soften the hard muscles of his shoulder.

Her muted heartbeat and the puff of their breaths in a soft, gray fog could not disturb the night's peace. It was as if nobody existed beyond the sled.

Adam pulled back on the reins and steered the sled up onto a shallow embankment.

Sitting straighter, Gypsy looked about in bafflement. “Why are you stopping? We're still half a mile from camp.”

“Exactly.” He wrapped the reins around the dash and propped his cast on the curved board. Facing her, he said, “No one can hear us there. No one can hear us at Nissa's place. Maybe now you'll explain why you turned as gray as the snow when I said something about someone hurting you.”

“You were threatening me.”

“
I
wasn't threatening you.” He took her hand and slowly closed it into a fist. “I've seen you take care of yourself. What are you afraid of?”

Reaching for the reins, she said, “You're making something out of nothing.”

He caught her wrists in his wide hands. With a hushed laugh, he drew her fingers back. “Now, now, Gypsy, that's no attitude to take when I want to help you.”

“By scaring me? You think that's helping me?”

“Helping you isn't the only thing I want,” he whispered huskily. He pulled on her arms to tilt her toward him. His arm encircled her waist and drew her along the seat. When her leg touched his, she gasped. He laughed again. “See, Gypsy, it isn't the only thing you want, either.”

“I'm glad you've become such an expert on my feelings tonight.”

“I have no idea how you feel tonight,” he whispered as his fingers tipped her face back so her gaze met his shadowed eyes, “but I sure would enjoy finding out.”

His lips touched hers in a fleeting caress, then drew back. She moaned a protest. Her breath burst outward in a pleasured gasp as he recaptured her lips. Eagerly he explored each soft texture, warming the skin scraped by the cold. He cradled her against his arm to surround her with desire. As he tantalized the corners of her lips with his tongue, his gloved hand splayed along her back. Her fingers sought upward to twist through the sable strands drifting over his collar.

Fire burned on his lips as he boldly drew aside her scarf which closed her coat beneath her chin. She melted against him, wanting his skin against hers, relishing the warmth of his hair sifting over her hands. She wanted …

Gypsy groaned again as she tugged away. She snatched the reins from the dash and slapped them on the back of the horse. The startled horse whinnied before dragging the sled onto the road. Without speaking, she shoved the reins into Adam's hands.

“I guess this means you don't appreciate my attempts to seduce you.” He laughed with an iciness that matched the night air.

“It's too cold here.”

Watching the rough road, which was crisscrossed with sled marks, he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. “Do you mind if I insult you?”

“Do I have any choice?”

“None.” His fingers brought her head onto his shoulder as he relaxed against the back of the seat. Laughter remained in his voice as he said, “When I first saw you, I was sure that, despite your assertions, you satisfied the jacks' hunger for things other than apple pie.”

“That
is
insulting.”

“You should consider it a compliment. I couldn't imagine why else you would be in this rough camp.” His finger against her cheek steered her mouth toward his. Slowing the horse to a walk, he held the reins against the dash with his uninjured foot. The scratchy texture of his gloves grazed her face as he sampled her lips.

She whispered against his mouth, “Did you ever consider I might like this life?”

“Not then, but you're persuading me.” Framing her face, he smiled, his eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “You're persuading me there's a lot to like here.”

His words gave her no warning of his lips' fervor when they found hers again. The light, teasing touch vanished. Demanding, insistent, titillating, his tongue traced her lips with molten honey. When she gasped, overwhelmed by swiftly blossoming desire, he sought deep in her mouth. She quivered in his arms, lost amid the uncontrollable yearning.

Her breath mingled with his, growing more swift. Boldly his fingers moved along her, leaving a trail of scintillating sparks in their wake. As his mouth delighted her neck, his hand stroked her leg through her thick skirts. Yearning to touch him, aching to be touched, she ran her fingers across the strength of his chest.

He raised his mouth from hers, and she stared at his lips, which she wanted against her again. Combing her fingers up through his hair, she guided his mouth to hers.

The sled bounced. Adam pulled away with a curse as he groped with one hand for the reins. Rocking against her, he shouted when the horse neighed with fright.

The sled tilted. Adam's arm tightened around her, and he shouted a warning. Gripping his coat, she tried to stay on the seat, but she was flung away, her shriek hanging frozen in the sky.

Snow billowed around Gypsy when she struck a surprisingly hard snow drift. A weight imprisoned her in the smothering flakes. Choking, she cried out when something heavy glanced off her leg. As pain careened through her, she wiggled her toes. She could not afford a broken leg, too.

She opened her eyes to see Adam intriguingly close to her. Her arms curved around him when she realized he was holding her down into the snow.

When he smiled, she whispered, “Is this what you meant when you offered to take me for a spin?”

“I just wanted to give you a night you wouldn't forget.”

“You have.”

“Tell me, Gypsy.” He pushed her bonnet back. “Tell me you'll dream tonight of these kisses. Tell me you long for my mouth against you. Tell me, honey.”

“I'd rather show you.”

His laugh had a wicked tinge to it. Slowly, making each second a torment, his lips descended toward hers. She feared time had come to a halt as she waited for his kiss.

Suddenly he sat and waved. Gypsy struggled to hear past the pulse pounding in her ears. Anxious voices warned that some jacks on their way back to camp must have seen the sled tip over.

She smiled as she was helped to her feet. Assuring the men she was fine, she listened while they teased Adam about his poor driving. The men continued to joke while they righted the sled. She clasped her hands behind her back and made sure her smile remained in place.

Adam murmured with regret, “We have to offer them a ride back to camp.”

“Of course.”

“How about another spin next Saturday night?”

“Adam …”

A shout from one of the jacks kept her from having to come up with a lie. While she had been in his arms, alone in the snowy night, she had been able to forget the horror lurking just beyond the trees. Or maybe even closer.

Tonight was precious, because she could not let it be repeated. She had to push Adam away. She knew too well what happened to everyone she cared about.

They died.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Farley wants to speak with me,” Adam said as Gypsy stepped aside to let Per lower the trapdoor to the root cellar beneath the kitchen.

Gypsy nodded. Concentrating as she counted the cups of sugar into the cookie dough, she asked no questions. When she did not hear the clatter of his crutch as he left, she glanced up to see he still stood behind her.

“Go ahead,” she replied.

“Just wanted you to know where I was going to be.”

“And you've told me. Go.” She turned back to her work.

She knew Adam had expected things would be different after their visit to Nissa's Porcelain Feather Saloon. Things were different. She made sure she never was alone with him in the cramped cookhouse. Only that way could she maintain her control over her cook shack and herself.

The flunkeys exchanged uneasy glances whenever she cut short a conversation with Adam. She resisted explaining, for she could not forget the precarious position she had put herself in by listening to the longings of her heart.

Not only was she endangering herself, but Adam. Too many she cared for were now dead. Others had said it was just coincidence. She had tried to believe that, but it was better to put an end to it this way, she told herself over and over as she struggled to sleep.

But she couldn't sleep. She was afraid to dream of Adam holding her again. One magical night had altered her in ways she would have been unable to imagine before he drew her into his arms and against his lips.

“I'll be back soon, Gypsy.”

She glanced away before her eyes could betray her yearning. “Hurry back so you can help us load the sled for lunch.”

Adam swore under his breath. He reached for her, but paused. Embarrassing Gypsy in front of her crew would drive her farther from his arms.

Tossing his apron onto the bench, he went to the door. He should take his cue from her. He was here to do a job, not to enjoy a flirtation. If he had any sense, he would keep those few kisses as a pleasant memory, find himself a pretty girl down at Nissa's, and keep everything simple. That had been his style, and it had served him well.

His cast crashed against a barrel in front of the pegs where their coats hung. With a grumbled curse, he pulled his jacket on and went to see what problem Farley was going to add to his day. Only the truth would get Farley off his back, and he could not reveal that.

The wind coursed viciously around him as he opened the door. Leaping down into the latest storm, he smiled. Dealing with a suspicious Farley was easier than trying to break through the barrier Gypsy had raised.

He tucked his hands in his pockets and hobbled through the thick snow, which blew at him with the speed and ferocity of a minié ball. Hunching into his coat, he peered through the storm toward Farley's office. He could barely see it—not that it mattered. Farley had sent for him to come up to the house.

He did not like that at all. In the time he had been here, Adam had not seen Farley do any business at his house, nor had he seen him do much in the office. It had not taken long to realize Peabody and Gypsy had their men so well trained that Farley was superfluous.

That was about the only thing he had found out. The jacks were glad to talk his ear off night and day, but they seldom said anything worth listening to. They bragged; they talked about work; they were wistful about their families waiting beyond the north woods.

None of that helped him. He had hoped he might find something out at the Porcelain Feather Saloon.

He smiled through the stinging snow. If Gypsy discovered he had had an ulterior motive for asking her to join him on that sled ride, she would be even more furious at him. He had not guessed when he took her there, hoping she would create a diversion, that she would knock Lolly off her feet in his defense.

Maybe he had been the one distracted. He had been too anxious to get Gypsy out of there and off somewhere secluded. He was not sure how much time he had to get this job completed, but every minute he spent thinking about Gypsy kept him from doing what he was supposed to and getting out of this icy misery.

The trees barely slowed the wind, and he was half frozen by the time he reached the house, set a quarter mile from the camp. Stamping the snow off his boot and more cautiously from the moccasin over his cast, he crossed the narrow porch to the front door. His eyes widened when he saw the etched glass oval set in it. A fancy door was an affectation here in the north woods where no one ever called on neighbors. There were no neighbors.