Jillian Hart (11 page)

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    "You're making me nervous." She fed the fire with a handful of dried pine needles and watched the flames leap.
    Ben jumped back from the circle of stones as if searching for escaped embers that might start a forest fire. "You're making
me
nervous. Let me take over."
    "No. I'm perfectly capable. Look, the flames are already dying down. See how smoked the fish are?"
    "They looked burned up." Emily wrinkled her nose, deeply skeptical.
    "They'll be just right, you'll see." Polly checked the wild yams she'd gathered that were warming in the coals along the edge of the campfire, topped with butter, sweet lemon grass and wild onion shoots. They were almost done. "Ben, get your hand away from my fish. Do you always have to be in charge?"
    "It's a man's duty."
    "Duty? Look around. I haven't started a single wildfire." She liked to watch the way his eyes twinkled when she teased him.
    "Are you sure about that?"
    Her blood heated, and she didn't want it to. "Move aside. I want to see if the trout is done."
    "It looks done." His warm breath fanned the back of her neck.
    Shivers raced all through her body. "Go get the plates."
    "I'm supervising, remember?" His eyes darkened and his gaze traveled along the surface of her bottom lip. "Besides, I like the view right here."
    His gaze pinned hers, and her breath caught in her chest. "You wanna eat with your fingers?"
    "With
your
fingers, maybe."
    The idea of his mouth closing around her fingertips made her heart skip five beats. Maybe more. "Emily, come drag your father over to the packs and dig out the plates. We're ready to eat"
    "Are you sure that fish is done?" Oh, he liked teasing her. He leaned close, their mouths almost touching.
    She could see the flecks of black in his eyes and the texture of his bottom lip. She remembered how hot and demanding his mouth had felt on hers.
    "C'mon, Pa." Emily took him by the hand and dragged him off toward the edge of the clearing. Her whisper carried on the breeze. "I got candy at the store in case she burns up all our supper."
    "Good thinking." Ben's gentle laugh filled Polly's heart. It was a warm sound, a tender one.
    She was liking him far too much.
    She took a cleaned stick and poked the fillets apart. The Fire's heat radiated against her face. Smoke tickled her nose and she breathed it in, savoring the scent. It was a friendly smell, one she'd missed while she'd been living in town. This kind of cooking satisfied her, and to heck with the Family Sunshine stove.
    She sprinkled a few more crushed stalks of lemon grass and small wild onions into the center of the fish while she waited for Ben and Emily. They approached with great trepidation.
    She grabbed a cloth she'd been using as a hot pad and lifted one skewered trout onto Emily's plate. "Try it. It's not burned, I promise."
    "You look like you know what you're doing." Ben offered his empty plate and she filled it with the biggest fish.
    "Take some of the yams from the coals." She dropped the last fillet onto her plate and then set down by the fire a careful distance from Ben.
    "Hot." He dropped two small yams on her plate, moving closer, and then leaned away to serve Emily.
    "The moment of truth." His gaze met hers across the merry campfire.
    She waited, air lodged in her chest, while he forked a small section of white meat into his mouth. Emily looked terrified, as if he was about to be poisoned.
    Then he smiled. He chewed, swallowed, and tossed her a kiss. "I admit I was wrong. I doubted you. But never again. This is the best fish I've ever had!"
    He made her feel . . . she didn't know what to call it. Happy. Full up. Brimming over. She'd failed at so much she'd tried to do for him and Emily. But here under the canopy of twilight with stars winking to life, she was in her element She hadn't set the forest on fire or burned their food.
    "See? I told you it was that stove." Polly took a bite and sighed with pleasure. Goodness, she'd missed this kind of cooking. The fish was lightly seasoned, smoky and buttery. The sweet yams tasted rich, wild and full of flavor.
    The meal was filled with pleasant talk about the town. Emily recounted with great pride how Polly had saved Milton's life. How she'd known just how to hold a gun, carry the unconscious Milton and treat his wound. And all the while, Ben looked at her as if she were someone of great worth.
    Polly sat in the growing darkness, feeling strangely at peace. She felt appreciated. She felt as if she belonged. She'd spent her whole life looking for this.
    After every bite of the trout had disappeared, Polly brought out the kinnikinnick berries she'd picked while gathering the firewood.
    Emily brought her a small frying pan and watched, with a little more faith now, as Polly dropped the rest of the store-bought butter into the pan. She placed it over the dying fire. Together, they waited until the butter was sizzling.
    "Are you sure this is gonna taste good?" Emily stared down at the pouch she held, struggling to believe.
    "I'm sure." Polly laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Pour in the berries."
    "Are ya gonna fry them?" Emily upended the leather pouch, and the bright red berries rolled into the bubbling butter.
    "Nope." Polly loved surprises. "Just wait and see."
    "You're a skilled woodsmen." Ben's chin brushed her shoulder as he leaned close. "I never guessed."
    "You never asked." She laid the lid over the pan, leaving it slightly ajar to let the heat escape. Shaking it gently, she waited for Emily's reaction.
    "Popcorn!" The girl clasped her hands together. "My very favorite."
    "It's like popcorn, but it tastes like baked apples. You'll like it, I promise."
    She felt Ben's hand settle on her low back, holding her close, and his roughly textured cheek settled against hers. Her blood felt as hot as the fire, and her senses snapped right along with the popping kinnikinnick berries.
    What was she going to do about the way he made her feel? She knew she'd better have it figured out by bedtime tonight, since they were spending the night here, beneath the stars. 
    Despite Ben's promises of separate beds, his thigh pressed against hers and she had no doubt. Friendship wasn't the only thing he had in mind.

    "The house is dark. Ain't no one there." McKinny spat tobacco juice and swiped at his chin with his sleeve. "Think we ought to check town?"
    "It's ten o'clock at night. What in blazes would they be doin' in town?" Dixon roared. This kind of stupidity was the reason he'd broken up his gang after the Golden Gulch stage fiasco. Once again, he was in charge of a bunch of chicken brains.
    When he got his hands on that gold, there would be some changes.
    "I donno, boss." McKinny gave his tobacco wad a good chew. "Polly sure does like to play poker. She beat me so bad once, I lost my horse to her."
    "Only a fool plays against a woman. They cheat." Dixon was sure of it because that's the only way a woman could beat him. "Besides, she ain't in the saloon, not with that sheriff's kid. I sent Patch in there to scout around. If he'd seen her, we'd have heard about it by now. She's out charmin' that bulldog sheriff."
    "Poor sucker." McKinny shook his head. "She's gonna take him for all he's worth."
    "And he's worth a lot. I checked into it." Dixon had checked into a lot of things. "Tell Howell to get out a lantern and find some tracks. They had to go somewhere."
    In the meantime, Dixon figured he might as well see what was in the house. The door wasn't locked, and he headed upstairs. He saw a little girl's room.
    He wasn't interested in that. He checked out the desk drawers in MacLain's room, but found nothing to blackmail him with. Nothing obvious, anyway.
    It was the third room that had him humming. Fancy trunks were filled with all sorts of finery. So, Polly was building herself a whole new life.
    Dixon wondered what her father would think of that.
    "Boss." McKinny called up the stairs. "Howell found some tracks. Two horses heading up into the mountains. Says they're about five hours old."
    "That's them." Dixon could feel it in his bones. "Tell the boys to mount up. We've got to move fast and quiet. I want Polly taken alive and well. You hear me?"
    Yeah, that wild hellcat was gonna suffer. Big time. And when it was all over, he was gonna be one hell of a wealthy man.

    "Is she asleep?" Polly leaned away from the campfire's dying glow to better see the man striding toward her.
    "Dead to the world," he assured her.
    Polly could see Emily's bed roll, not five yards away. There was no better way to sleep, cushioned in the soft grasses, brushed by the light of a thousand stars. "I guess we should turn in. It's been a long day."
    "Thanks for what you did today."
    "Me? I caught some fish."
    "You've made Emily happy. You gave her happy memories. She hasn't had much of those since her mother's death." Ben stepped over the rock and sat down beside her. "You were incredible. It's all she could talk about when I was tucking her in–how you can do anything."
    "Except cook breakfast on the Family Sunshine stove." Polly grabbed the base of her ponytail and loosened the ribbon. She shook her head, and curls cascaded over her shoulders.
    Ben's fingers twined through a lock of her hair. "I've had a hard time accepting you as the woman to make Emily happy. You weren't my first choice."
    "I noticed."
    He sighed, a thoughtful sound. "I've been afraid. You understand fear, don't you?"
    An ember popped in the low flames, shooting sparks up into the dark night. Bright specks of fire dazzled, flying in the air for one brief second, then they died out, gone forever.
    She screwed her eyes shut, trying not to remember. "Yes, I know about fear."
    "I was afraid you wouldn't love Emily. What if you left? And then, when you didn't, I was afraid you would get too close."
    "Isn't that why you proposed? To have a mother for Emily?"
    "Yes, but I would have been happy with a housekeeper for the rest of my life." He stared hard into the flames. "If I could have gotten a domestic to come out here, then that's all the commitment I wanted to make."
    "I see." Heat radiated against her, but it wasn't coming from the campfire. Ben released her hair, watching as the curls tumbled across her right breast. She knew he was looking at her breasts and not her plain brown curls. "What man doesn't want a servant to cook and clean for him?"
    "That's not what I meant."
    "Isn't it? No wonder you're so happy tonight. You found out I
can
cook." The full and happy feeling in her heart faded, leaving nothing in its place but coldness. "I'm glad I'm going to make you a convenient wife after all."
    "You don't understand." His knuckles brushed her cheek.
    She felt the tender touch all the way down to her toes. She closed her eyes and breathed in the night air. She wasn't ready for closeness, yet she'd been yearning for it all of her life.
    She heard the chirrup of crickets and the call of a silver owl. In the edges of the clearing, deer grazed in the shadows. "What don't I understand?"
    "I didn't want another wife. I loved the one I had."
    "Oh." She hadn't considered that. She stared down into the glowing coals and watched the orange light tease the darkness.
    Love. She could hear it in his voice–and the regret. Love made a person vulnerable. It wasn't something he wanted to do again.
    Lucky for him, love was something she didn't want. Closeness, yes. Love? Never. Her independence was too valuable.
    "I don't want to replace Neesa." He tipped his head back to watch an owl swoop low. Its broad wings spread in a soundless glide.
    The night closed in on them, and she waited. She didn't know what more to say.
    Ben didn't break the silence either. He braced his hands on his knees, swallowed completely by shadow. After a while, he spoke. "I just want to be touched again. I miss the closeness."
    Her heart ached. Touch. She'd been touched so infrequently in her life until she came to live with him.
    Yet he sat alone, so far away, as dark as the night. So much distance stood between them.
    "Do you want me to touch you?" she whispered the words because they frightened her and because she couldn't find her voice.
    "Yes. I want your touch. I want–" He paused, then slanted his mouth over hers.
    Heavens, but he could kiss. He caught her lips in a slow sensuous brush that tore a moan from her throat. Her hands curled around his biceps. Her bones felt ready to melt. He tasted like apples and the night. He made her forget everything but the velvet heat of his mouth and the thrilling sweep of his tongue.
    His fingers splayed on either side of her jaw and he tipped her head back, opening her mouth. His tongue swept across her bottom lip and the edges of her teeth. Sensation erupted everywhere he touched. She brushed her tongue to his and began a slow sensual dance of give and take that left her clinging to him, helpless to even stand.
    His arms swept around her, holding her up, and she leaned against him. He was all iron-strong muscle and strength, and yet he touched her with a brand of tenderness she'd never known.
    He took his time, kissing the curve of her chin and then the line of her jaw. He dropped kisses down the slope of her nose and laved his tongue down the length of her throat.
    "Ben."
    "Hmm." His lips closed over the hollow at the base of her throat. His tongue darted and teased over her sensitive flesh.
    "Ben." She laid her hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shove. "I think I–" She paused to catch her breath. "Hear something–"
    He tore his lips from her throat. He was breathing hard, and his gaze flicked over to the picketed horses. "The pinto's nervous."
    "Where's my satchel?" Polly willed her feet to move. It was hard stepping away from Ben's wondrous embrace. Her body felt strung tight, her blood like molten lava in her veins.
    She knelt and opened the bag. She found her gun belt by feel and strapped it on over her hips.
    Ben had a Colt in one hand as he crept through the shadows, listening to the sounds of the night silence. That could only mean one thing: danger.
    She pressed bullets into the chambers of her .45s and listened, too.
    She heard it first, the whoosh of a horse exhaling in the forest maybe thirty yards south. She gestured to Ben, and his gaze locked on hers over the fading glow of the campfire.
    He pointed at Emily, and she knew he wanted her to protect his daughter.
    And she would, with her life.
    She figured if Dixon had decided to come back, then he wouldn't be alone. Maybe they were surrounded. She realized that Ben thought so, too. That's why he was slipping his rifle from the saddle holster and grabbing his saddlebag with the ammunition inside.
    He kept to the shadows, silent and waiting. Polly grabbed the bottom of Emily's bed roll and tugged. The blankets and child slid slowly closer to the base of the stand of lodgepole pines where a few low boughs would keep the girl hidden from sight.
    "Look." Polly pointed with her revolver in the direction of the campfire. A shadow moved in the forest beyond, and then it was gone.
    "They're trying to surround us."
    "I know." Polly glanced behind her. "I can wake Emily and put her up in this tree. She'll be safe, and we can–"
    "You aren't going to fight, Polly. You're going to stay right here with Emily." His jaw tensed, and he stared out at the advancing shadows that moved and froze and moved again. "I'm going to pick them off one by one–"
    "Too risky. There's too many of them, and the first shot would give away your hiding spot. They would surround you."
    Didn't he understand the kind of men they were dealing with? Cold killers. And if it were Dixon–
    She shivered, knowing they were at a disadvantage.
    "Look, they think we're at the campfire." Ben set the saddlebag on the ground and pushed open the flap. "Do you think you can carry Emily out of here? I can keep them busy–"
    "I'm not going to leave you alone." Polly's chest felt ready to tear apart. "This is my battle–"
    "Mine, now. You head for home along the river bank and then cut over–"
    "Ben, I'm not going anywhere." She laid her hand on his wrist. The touch connected them, forged a common bond she'd never felt with anyone before. "I'm not Pauline Curtis, and I'll never be. I'm Polly Brown, and I can't back away when the right thing to do is stay and fight."
    "Then we can leave right now. It's not a good plan, but at least I can reach town and round up my deputies–"
    "They would catch up to us. Dixon's men have horses and we're on foot." She spun the chamber of one revolver, then the other. "What's your plan, Ben? Because if you don't have one, I do."
    "You're a hell of a woman." He said it like a compliment, and she took it that way. "Roust Emily and get her high up in that tree. She'll be safe from the gunfire up there. Our visitors are about to close in and figure out we're not at the campfire."
    "They're a thick-witted bunch, but they are darn good shots."
    "We need a defensive position away from Emily." Ben gestured toward a boulder deeper in the trees. "It has a good view of the campsite."
    "How many men? Ten?"
    "I counted an even dozen." Ben nodded to her. "I'll head over. You take care of Emily. If they spot you, stay with her."
    Polly nodded, guns ready to cover him in case Dixon's men spotted him. Ben took off, running low through the tall grasses and keeping to the shadows. The forest seemed to swallow him whole and she couldn't even see him.
    Maybe they would be safe after all. Maybe Dixon would find them missing and ride on out.
    She shook Emily gently, whispering to her as the wind picked up. Clouds rolled in overhead, blocking off a quarter of the sky. Emily woke with a start, and Polly quieted her and tried to explain.
    The girl shivered, afraid, but after a hug and a kiss, she understood. There was no way to escape the men in the forest. She had to hide and stay hid, no matter what happened.
    The wind rustled the treetops and masked Emily's awkward climbing. When she nearly slipped, Polly reholstered her .45 and headed up after her. She helped boost the little girl into a solid cradle where three sturdy boughs came together.
    Emily sniffed. "The ground is so far down."
    "That's good, so the outlaws can't see you."
    "What about Pa?"
    "He's a good sheriff. You told me so yourself-–"
    Gunfire shattered the night. The spark of gunpowder came and went like a flash in the darkness, but she could see where the renegades were standing. She drew both guns.
    "Keep quiet, Emily. And don't move." She eased the revolvers around the edge of the thick trunk and squeezed off one bullet, and then another.
    A man cried out. Another fell.
    They called to one another, confused by her position up in the tree. While she'd intended to protect Ben, she'd given away Emily's hiding spot.
    "Lean right here." Polly made sure the girl was safely protected by the tree's thick trunk. And as the men began firing and running for cover, there was no way she could risk climbing to the ground.
    "Polly! It's me, Dixon." A voice called out above the explosion of gunfire. He swore, barking an order, and the gunfire ceased. "Give yourself up, and I'll let the sheriff and his girl go."
    "You're a liar, Dixon." Polly tried to judge by the sound of his voice where he was. "Leaving witnesses isn't your style."
    "Then I'll make a damn exception. My men want their share of the gold your cheatin' brother stole from me. Help us out, and we'll–"
    She squeezed the trigger. Fire and thunder tore through the night, and Dixon swore again–louder this time.
    "You're gonna pay for that, missy."
    Good. She got him. She thumbed back the hammer and watched the darkness for another opportunity. No one was going to hurt Ben or Emily, not while she was around.
    Emily clung to Polly's chest, her breath coming in fast little puffs. "Are those bad men gonna kill us?"
    "Not if your Pa and I can help it." Polly saw Ben nose up from behind the boulder to fire.
    She saw Dixon's man McKinny site him, and she squeezed the trigger. McKinny shouted and his gun fell to the ground. She'd got his shooting arm. She recounted and saw there were six, maybe seven left to go.
    More gunfire rang out. Bullets whizzed past her shoulder and dug into the trunk. Emily gave a gasp.
    "The tree will stop the bullets." Polly pulled the girl close, and they snuggled together in the bough cradle. She didn't like having Emily in the middle of this, but at least she was safe.
    There was no way that outlaw was going to win.
    "Are you ready to give up, girly?" Dixon called above Ben's answering gunfire. "I just want the gold."
    "I thought you wanted revenge."
    "I'm willing to settle for gold."
    Another man tumbled to the ground. She and Ben weren't a bad team when they worked together. Now it was much better odds.
    She knew she had to leave Emily and try to draw Dixon out for Ben to take him. "Dixon, if I come down, I want your word that you'll let the sheriff and the girl go."
    "You have my most solemn vow."
    "
No
." Ben's fury rang through the night like the growl of a wolf. "Polly, don't you dare trust him–"
    She saw it all in a flash. An outlaw was sneaking around the edge of a pine. She saw Ben turn, leaving himself unprotected. She tried to twist, but the boughs and the child around her neck made it impossible. Gunfire sounded. She squeezed off a shot, but Ben was already falling.
    He hit the ground and didn't get up.