High Mountain Drifter (28 page)

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Authors: Jillian Hart

BOOK: High Mountain Drifter
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One lady let out a gasp of distress, the other took in Klemp, turned her gaze on the rifle and followed it up to Zane's arm. The look she sent him was one you'd give a particularly unwelcome skunk.

He was used to that. As the women scurried away, eager to get away from the criminal and the ruffian, he took Klemp by the elbow and firmly steered him toward the sheriff's office.

"What's going on out here?" A broad-shouldered lawman swung the door open, planted his hands on his hips where his guns were strapped. His sharp gaze took in the cuffs and irons. "Zane. I've been expecting you. Looks like you've got another occupant for my jail."

"Lucky you." Blocking the sidewalk the way he did, a lady carrying her groceries, took one glance at him and immediately crossed the street. "This is George Klemp. Milo said he sent down the paperwork."

"Right. Bring him in." The lawman nodded, stepped back to make room.

Zane crossed the busy office, ignoring the half dozen pairs of eyes that followed him across the room. The sheriff led the way into a backroom, where a dozen cells were built into a solid stone wall. Four of the cells were occupied, one with a drunk man listing on the floor, the others with men with heartless and cruel eyes.

"In here, Klemp." Fairfax held open a cell door with his foot, sorting through his key ring. "We'll keep a good eye on him, Zane. Hear the marshals will be bringing in another prisoner tomorrow."

"That's right." Zane gave Klemp a shove into the cell. "My job is done here. Is there any paperwork you need?"

"I'll take care of it. It's a cold night out there with the snow and the wind. No sense waiting around here." The hinges squeaked as the door swung closed, metal rattling. Sheriff Fairfax moved in to lock it up tight. "You might want to get a hot meal and stay here tonight. I can have one of the men run over and get you a room."

"Not tonight, thanks." Zane tipped his hat, didn't give Klemp another look. "Keep those leg irons and cuffs for me. I'll get them from you next time."

"Next time," the lawman agreed.

Zane wound his way back to his horses. The geldings had accumulated a light dusting of snow, stoically awaiting their next command. It was cold, it was late, and it would be smart to stay the night, like the sheriff said.

He should stay, eat, start fresh in the morning. But it wasn't what he wanted. Zane peered up at the darkening sky, the last dredges of sunset were fading, the shadows gaining. He'd never felt like this before, all knotted up, wishing he was somewhere else, wanting to be there with every fiber of his being. Wishing for what could never be his, not really.

But that didn't stop him from untying the horses.

"We keep riding," he decided. It was certain to be a tough, frigid ride. And all for a woman.

Verbena was worth it. He didn't know where this would lead--but one thing was certain, it would end with his broken heart. But that didn't stop him from reining Winchester into the teeth of the storm, riding north, riding to the woman who owned his heart.

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Verbena woke, not sure what had stirred her from a deep sleep. The bed was toasty, piled with blankets. On the mattress beside her, Rose lay like the dead on her back, not making a sound. The thick darkness was only broken by the faint outline of a sort of glowing darkness at the edges of the drapes, a shade lighter than the inky blackness of the room. It was still the middle of the night.

Go back to sleep, Verbena.
She rolled onto her side, but sleep didn't come. She felt, well, not quite prickly, but shivery. Tingly. As if something wonderful was about to happen. It was the same exact way she'd felt in Zane's presence the last time she'd been with him.

She couldn’t say what drew her out of the warm bed. Certainly not the chilly floor that turned her stocking feet to ice. Or the air that sent goose bumps dancing across her skin as she reached for slippers and housecoat. She wrapped the quilted garment around her, glad for its warmth, and snuck over to the window seat to pull on the knitted booties she'd made.

Her hand pulled back the drapes, as if a part of her already knew. As if somewhere down deep, her soul felt his nearness.

That couldn’t be possible, she told herself logically, firmly, it was just wishful thinking. Zane was far away, and the night was too inclement for anyone to be out in it, much less travel in it. But she looked out the window anyway, anticipation popping through her, pulse zipping, heart needing.

She wasn't surprised to see the faint outline of a man standing at the edge of the lawn, hands on his hips, brawny shoulders wide, Stetson at a low angle. She caught the familiar line of his iron jaw, saw his head tip up when he spotted her in the window. It was far too dark to make out his face, but she
felt
his smile.
Felt
his gladness at seeing her.

Zane. He'd come. Sooner than he'd said, in the middle of the night, and he was here. Joy winged through her, and she lifted her hand to wave. Felt the impact of his gaze even though she could not see it, like his presence in her heart. Down below, the man strode out of sight. She leaped off the window seat, running to the door.

"I'll be so glad when I get my own room," Rose muttered, rolled on her side and pulled her pillow over her head.

"Sorry," Verbena whispered, wrenching open the door. "It's him. Oh, he came!"

"Glad you're not sweet on him or anything," Rose mumbled from beneath the pillow.

Verbena didn't even bother to argue. What was the point? She was more than sweet on him, judging by the way her feet carried her down the hall, the steps and to the back door. Zane's silhouette filled the window and she couldn't turn the knob fast enough. Oh, it was so
good
to see him.

"You must be frozen clear through." She stepped back, out of the stinging bite of the bitter cold, drinking him in with her eyes. The hard manly lines of him, the curve of arm and shoulder, the substantial pad of his step. "Hurry, get in here where it's warm."

"Sure, but for the record, I'm not a stalker or anything." The deep notes of his voice held hints of humor as he closed the door behind him. Iciness radiated off him like a glacier. "I got in about thirty minutes ago."

"You must have really pushed hard."

"You have no idea." He towered over her, shrinking the room, dominating the night. "As soon as I got my horses rubbed down, in a warm stall and fed, I had to come here. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." She stood there in the middle of the kitchen, so filled up with the thrill of being with him, the excitement that he'd done so much, ridden so hard, just to come to her. That he was here, when she'd missed him so deeply. She wanted to throw her arms around his broad shoulders, feel his steely arms closing around her. She wanted to see those same emotions in his eyes.

"You were just up staring out the window anyway?" he asked, a touch wryly.

"As a matter of fact, yes." She didn't know how to say it, or how much to risk. If he knew how she felt, that he'd somehow claimed her entire heart, would that make him uncomfortable? Would he bolt?

Or would he declare the same? She didn't know, but it was too big of a risk to take when she knew the outcome. When any woman could see Zane Reed was not husband material. "It was excellent timing, wasn't it? I looked out the window and there you were."

"I couldn't make myself leave." His confession held no traces of emotion, as if he held all of it back. "I had to see that everything was normal here. That's what I've worked hard for. So that your life can go on the way it was meant to be. Safe, happy, good."

"Thanks to you." She tipped her head back to look up at him, squinting to read his face, or what she could see of it in the dark. He was nothing but shadow and lines, any emotion was hidden to her. What was he feeling? What was he holding back? "A dozen cupcakes is simply not payment enough for what you did."

"It started out as a favor for Milo." His voice changed, grew thicker, lower as emotion crept in. Just a touch, just a hint. "Then it became all for you."

"For me?"

"I've never felt this way before, not for anyone." He moved in, shadow and dream, so substantial he left her trembling. He stripped off his gloves and laid his warm hand against the curve of her face.

In the dark he was hidden, his eyes fathomless pools, his face a thousand shades and shadows, but when his lips met hers, his kiss was as warm as a summer breeze, as sweet as springtime, as true as his heart. An eternity was in that kiss. Time stood still, lost all meaning, that's how sweet it was. Her toes curled, her heart forgot to beat. Tears filled her eyes.

The warm brush of his lips to hers tasted of tenderness, felt like heaven. Off balance, off center, overwhelmed, never wanting this moment to end, she rested both hands on his chest, felt the crust of ice and snow on his coat and the faint,
thud thud
of his heartbeat beneath. Slow, steady. Sure.

That's how she felt, too. Sure of her feelings, sure of this moment. The future? It didn't matter. The parting to come? It was insignificant, overshadowed by this resplendent blaze in her heart, the same brightness she felt in his kiss. An affection that chased away the cold and the night, that made the shadows and dark insignificant. When he broke away, they were both breathless, both moved beyond words.

He rested his forehead against hers, the brim of his hat skimming the top of her head, and that moment of connection felt ever more tender. An unbreakable bond.

"I missed you." His confession rumbled low, raw with emotion. "I didn't want to. I tried not to."

"I know." She wrapped her arms around him, let him wrap her in his strong arms. "I tried not to too."

"I don't fail at much. I keep at it until I succeed." He spoke into her hair, his breath warm, holding her against him. "Not when it comes to you."

"I know the feeling." Wild horses couldn't stop what she felt. Not an avalanche, or an earthquake or the worst disaster in the history of the world. Her heart, sure of itself, had chosen him. "Good to know I'm not alone."

"Nope, guess we're in this together." He tightened his hold on her, as if he never wanted to let go, as if savoring the closeness. The pure gentleness, the intake of his breath, the rise of his heart. "Did you like the bracelet?"

"Loved it." She felt his arms relax and she leaned back to search his face. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." The shadows hid his face again as he stepped away, reluctantly releasing his hold on her. "I saw it in the window when I was heading toward a diner. Seemed like something you would wear, dainty and delicate."

"You were thinking of me." She said the words as if that was what mattered to her, the meaning behind the gift.

And not the substantial sum he'd plunked down for it.

"No, I was thinking of my horses, but they don't wear jewelry much." Joking was easier than opening up and admitting the woman had enchanted him. Captured him heart and soul. "Winchester would just snort in derision, and Scout doesn't go for diamonds."

"Funny." She gleamed up at him, more precious than any gem. Brushed with shadows, not even the dark could hide her beauty. The thick fall of her hair, the adorable curve of her cheek, the upturn of her exquisite lips.

He had no idea why a creature as captivating and amazing as her would want anything to do with him, but he wasn't going to argue. He'd just be grateful for it.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, focusing her concern on him. "Would you like me to fix you anything? A sandwich, maybe? We had some excellent roast beef for supper."

"I grabbed a bite in Deer Springs, ate in the saddle."

"Then maybe you want to warm up and thaw out. You're chilly." She patted his coat for proof and little slivers of icy snow sifted to the floor. "How long has it been since you've spent time in front of a fire?"

"The hotel in the town where I caught up with Klemp." That seemed a lifetime ago now. Being here was what mattered, being with her. His chest ached with gladness, an emotion he didn't know a lot about. "When I got to the bunkhouse, didn't want to light the stove. Everyone was sleeping, and I'd have used up the wood box to warm up. I couldn't have refilled it without carrying in more and likely waking them up."

"Bringing in wood is a noisy business, that's why we try to make Magnolia do it." She snagged hold of his wrist, her touch like first dawn, that smile of light breaking through the night. "Come, let's get you thawed out so you can sleep."

"Let's face it, I shouldn’t be here, alone with you at night. You're wearing your nightgown." He held his ground, planting his feet, so she couldn't drag him anywhere. "I should go. You have your reputation to protect."

"I don't care about my reputation. It would make Iris faint if she heard me say that, but honestly, the sheriff and his men found me mostly naked in a mountain cabin tied to a bed. My reputation is a little iffy as it is." Her words came lightly, as she gave his arm another determined tug. "I'm not asking you to stay for the sole purpose of defrosting. Sure, I don't want you cold, but there's another reason."

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