Christine Dorsey (28 page)

“Are you finished?” Jake stood glowering down at her.

Samantha sucked in her lower lip and nodded. What had gotten into her lecturing him like that? Jake crossed his arms. “You’re right.”

“What?” Samantha’s eyes opened wide and her hands fluttered down to her side.

“I said you’re right.” Jake watched the play of emotions across Samantha’s face. Her expression finally settled on bewilderment.

“But...”

“I’d never considered that she handled things for over a year. But she had. She kept the house going and food on the table. And in her letters she never really complained.”

Samantha straightened her shoulders. “Well, there.” She nodded. “You see.”

“Of course, I still wonder if I might have saved them if I were home.”

“But you don’t know that for sure.” Samantha cocked her head to the side. “And you never will. So you really should stop punishing yourself for it.”

“You think that’s what I’ve been doing?”

Samantha’s smile was sweet and understanding. “Yes, Jacob Morgan. I think you have.”

“But you think I should stop.” Jake’s hands cupped her shoulders. His warm breath fanned her face.

Samantha felt her grip on reality loosening, but she forced herself to say, “It’s about time.”

She heard him agree with her just before his lips, warm and pliant, closed over hers. Samantha’s arms went around his waist and she melted toward him.

The kiss deepened. Tongues stroked and Samantha moaned deep in her throat. Had she less than an hour ago decided she would never let him touch her again? Now that was all she wanted.

Time and place seemed to disappear as he pushed her against the door, wedging his body against hers. Samantha’s legs opened, her skirts spreading and she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal. He groaned when she moved against him, a deep hungry sound that Samantha loved.

But there was something else. Another sound. And it just barely skimmed the corners of her consciousness.

Jake heard it too because he pulled back, giving her a dazed look which Samantha knew matched her own. Not that both of them didn’t recognize Will calling from the yard. It was more than either could understand how they forgot he’d be back for Jake any minute.

“I better go.” Jake’s voice was husky and low.

Samantha could only nod. She felt totally disoriented and light-headed. She watched Jake reach for his hat and finger-comb his sun-streaked hair before settling the hat over his head. And still she stood leaning into the door.

“I’ll be back late this afternoon.” Jake bent, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “In the meantime, don’t forget to fire the gun if you need me.”

She still had one of his guns. But since the sheriff’s visit, she’d had no reason to fire it. Samantha was beginning to think that maybe Landis Moore had moved back to Missouri and forgotten about his old vendetta with her family.

At least that’s what Samantha hoped as she watched Jake amble across the yard to meet Will. He ruffled the boy’s hair and led the way into the barn.

Fire the gun if you need me,
he’d said. Samantha shook her head and laid the back of her hand against her cheek. She had a powerful need for him at this very moment. But as she began clearing the breakfast dishes, Samantha laughingly decided that was not what he’d meant.

~ ~ ~

The morning and afternoon dragged. Samantha threw herself into her work—weeding and watering the garden and baking bread. She finished another dress for Peggy Keane and baked a cobbler. Anything to keep her mind off why she couldn’t wait for Jake to return.

“You’re being silly,” she told herself time and time again. Worse than silly. Wanton. That was an excellent word for her behavior. But she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

Samantha’s hands stilled on the sheet she was dragging off the clothesline, and she squinted toward the west. The late afternoon sun turned the sky into a splash of peach and crimson, and she wondered when Jake and Will would return.

She was so busy daydreaming that she didn’t hear the man walk up behind her. Didn’t even realize he was there until rock-hard arms swooped around her. A scream started low and lodged in her throat as warm lips pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

Jake.

He twisted her around in his arms, transferring his mouth to hers and pulling her up against him.

“You scared me,” Samantha breathed when he lifted his head.

“Sorry.” Jake’s mouth skimmed down her cheek, and his hand covered her breast. “I thought you heard me.”

“Hmmm.” She was gradually hearing nothing but the excited beating of her own heart. His lips nibbled hers, and she lost almost all sense of time. Just like this morning. “Wait a minute.” Samantha pushed lightly on his shoulder. “Where’s Will?” They were, after all, standing in the yard.

“Down at the creek.” Jake punctuated his words with another kiss. “We stopped there to get cleaned up.”

Samantha now realized his hair and shirt were damp. She ran her fingers down his chest. “I hurried,” he mumbled before his open mouth took hers.

But they both knew it was only a matter of time before Will came strolling into the yard, so with a mutual deep breath they pulled apart.

Jake took another breath. “You have something burning in the stove?” he asked after draping his arm around her shoulders. It would be a shame if supper were burned, but he’d have no one to blame but himself. And if forced to choose between food or kissing, he guessed he’d take the kissing.”

“No. I took the bread and pies out.”

“Pies.” Jake’s grin was lecherous. “What kind?”

“Apple...” Samantha wrinkled her nose. “I smell it too.”

So did he. Jake jerked around, his eyes narrowing at what he saw. A huge cloud of black smoke.

“My God!” Samantha cried as Jake took off running across the yard. “The cornfield.”

B
y the time Samantha reached the barn, Jake was barreling out the door, his arms full of bundled blankets. His eyes met hers only an instant before he took off toward the far cornfield.

“Find Will,” he yelled back over his shoulder. “He’s down by the creek. So’s the wagon.”

Samantha didn’t wait to hear everything. Gathering up her skirts, she raced down the path, screaming for her brother. A chubby quail scurried out of her way as she rushed past the wagon, but the slow mules hardly gave her notice.

“Will!” Samantha skidded to a halt by the pebble bottomed creek. Her heart pounded painfully, and an ache in her side made her double over. But she scanned the area, yelling her brother’s name again and again. Her only answer was the hypnotic drone of insects and the peaceful babble of water.

Samantha jerked around. The column of smoke spiraled higher into the cloud-spattered sky. Grabbing the bucket off the wagon, she scooped it quickly through the water and looked around for something else to fill. Realization that there was nothing came quickly. With a sigh of frustration, Samantha climbed into the wagon seat and turned the mules toward the field.

Smoke stung Samantha’s eyes as she pulled on the reins and bounded from the wagon. She wiped tears from her eyes and called for Jake, but the fire had a voice of its own and she could barely hear herself.

Grotesque black billows defiled the air, making breathing difficult and seeing nearly impossible. Samantha covered her mouth and nose, trying to filter the air with her fingers as she hurried around the perimeter of the fire.

When she spotted Jake, her heart raced with relief. He was covered with soot, his face heat-singed, and he was coughing between gasping breaths. But he kept up a rhythmic slapping of the flames with a cinder-burned blanket.

He didn’t notice her until Samantha grabbed his arm.

“Other... blankets?” She managed to wheeze out the question when he jerked around toward her.

“Get... out... of... here!” His words were muffled by the piece of shirt he’d torn off and tied around his lower face. But his eyes, when they flashed toward her, demanded compliance.

Compliance he wasn’t going to get from her. Grabbing a handful of skirt, Samantha yanked, then wrapped the rent fabric around her mouth and nose. “The blankets,” she bellowed after again clutching his arm. “Where are they?”

Jake glared at her then jerked his hand toward the edge of the field. At first Samantha thought it was just another command to leave but when she glanced around she could make out a crumpled pile of wool near a tangle of weeds. Whirling around she seized the gray wool and soon she was by Jake’s side slapping at the orange flames.

Her lungs burned and her back ached savagely but Samantha kept going. It was like fighting a battle, she imagined. Going beyond what you ever dreamed you could do. But unfortunately, this enemy seemed to be winning.

Jake dropped his smoldering blanket and ran to the wagon for a shovel he’d tossed in that morning. Now he bent his back to digging, throwing dirt toward the flames, and knocking the next row of corn out of the fire’s path.

Samantha, reading his strategy, threw down her blanket and rushed to clear away the fallen stalks. But still the fire gained on them.

Determined to fight, Samantha bent over a tangled pile of stalks when she felt her feet knocked out from under her. A heavy weight descended, knocking even the oxygen-starved air from her lungs. For one frightening moment as she realized the weight was Jake, Samantha thought he had lost his mind. Then he began slapping at her skirt and she stared down in horror to see her dress smoldering.

Tears rolled down Samantha’s cheeks as she lay on the packed ground. Too tired and discouraged to know if they were from the smoke or her own disheartened spirit, she let them flow.

“You... all right?” Jake’s words snapped Samantha out of her lethargy and she scrambled to her feet, ignoring his hand. What would happen if they lost the crop from this field? She didn’t want to think about the answer to that.

“It’s no use.” Jake pulled at her arm.

“But we can’t just—”

“This field’s gone. We can try to save the—” Jake stopped and squinted through red-rimmed eyes toward the sky.

“What?” Samantha looked up. A fat raindrop splattered on her face, cooling her cheek. She gasped, taking the next one in her mouth. Jake’s expression told her he felt it too.

“It’s raining,” she whispered, almost afraid to say it too loud. If the storm gods heard, they might stop even the hope of a miracle. But today the spirits seemed generous, for before Samantha could wonder if the occasional drops would have an effect on the fire, the heavens opened up, pouring torrents of rain on the blaze.

Lightning streaked across the sky, giving the whole scene a surreal aspect. Samantha looked out across the field and watched the once hungry flames sizzle and die.

She glanced toward Jake. He glanced toward her. And grins broke simultaneously across their wet, soot-streaked faces. Samantha was in his arms before she realized either of them had moved. Jake wrapped himself around her, lifting her high and swinging her around. Samantha’s tattered skirt clung to her legs, plastered there by the drenching rain. Her arms flew around Jake’s neck and Samantha threw back her head and laughed.

Then Jake started laughing and twirled her again and Samantha wondered when she’d ever been so happy.

“It’s raining,” she sang out. “We needed a miracle and we got it.”

Jake had pretty much given up on miracles. But with Samantha saying it, with her blackened face dripping wet and streaked, and still so beautiful it took his breath away, he wondered. He liked her to be happy.

Samantha kissed him. At first when she bent her head down to brush his mouth with hers, she meant it as a shared celebration. But as soon as their lips met, they both knew it was much more.

They pulled back and stared, their breath mingling for only a moment before Jake let her slide slowly down his body. Their rain-soaked clothes felt slick, and sensual, as she rubbed against him.

And then they were kissing again. No light tentative kiss, but something deep and hungry and as satisfying as the rain smothering the remaining smoldering cinders.

“God, Samantha, I want you.” Jake dug his fingers into Samantha’s sopping hair. He gave her no chance to answer before crushing her lips again.

And she wanted him. Samantha molded herself to him as the rain sizzled around them. Though her mind rebelled, Samantha forced herself to keep a modicum of reality. “What about Will?”

“Will?” Jake clamped his hands on Samantha’s shoulder, peeling her away from his body. “Where is he?”

“Why he’s...” Samantha glanced around, seeing the fire-ravaged patch of field; the tall stalks that hadn’t been touched. But there was no sign of her brother. “I thought he was with you.” Samantha watched Jake shake his head and a sinking feeling began in the pit of her stomach. “But he has to be. He wasn’t by the creek.” Her voice took on a frantic edge. “There’s no way he could miss this fire and I know he’d come to help.”

She explained this to Jake as he jogged to the edge of the burned-out area. He cupped his hands and yelled her brother’s name into the storm.

“What?” Samantha ran to him across the spongy ground. She scrubbed the wet hair out of her face. “What do you think happened to him?”