Logan's Outlaw (23 page)
Authors: Elaine Levine
Chapter 15
Logan stepped into his father's den a short while later. Sid stood beside the cold fireplace, arms crossed over his chest. Sheriff Declan and Sager stood near him. The men fell silent as he entered.
“Christ, Logan. You look like hell,” Declan observed. “What happened?”
“We were ambushed by Swift Elk.”
Declan whistled low between his teeth. “How did you get away? Very few white men survive an encounter with him.”
“I killed his men.”
“And Swift Elk?”
“He lives. Sarah asked me to spare his life.” Logan's gaze traveled to his stepfather. His hair was grayer than Logan remembered, his face more careworn. Briefly, guilt attacked Logan. Perhaps, had he been here, he might have lifted some of the load from his dad.
What a useless thought. There'd been room for only one son. Sager. His stepfather had made his choice.
“You look like you got bad news,” Logan said to the sheriff. “How did it happen that you were up here today?”
“I heard Eugene was headed this way.” Declan bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck, then filled them in on what he'd learned about Hawkins. “And, I came for another reason. I did as you asked, Logan. I checked into the forgery warrant posted for Sarah. I haven't been able to get in contact with the law in Yankton. I came up to leave word with your father and to see if you'd arrived yet.” He straightened and looked Logan in the eye, his hands braced on his hips. “I think it may be best if I take Sarah into Cheyenne to see if we can get to the bottom of this.”
“No.” Something cold twisted in Logan's gut. “She's done nothing wrong. She gave you the papersâat considerable danger to herself. Hawkins set this up to discredit her.”
Sager snorted. Logan's gaze slashed his way. “What hold has that woman got over you, little brother? You're finding excuses for her. She's playin' you, and you're too goddamned blind to see it.”
Logan's gaze narrowed, the only warning he gave. His voice was deceptively calm. “You're talking about the woman I love, big brother. I'd like you to keep a civil tongue in your head.”
“Civil? While she works her knife a little deeper in your back? Did you learn nothing from your mother's tricks, from watching her work Sid over all those years? You want the same setup for yourself? I thought you were smarter than that.”
Logan felt blood heat his neck, rising to his face. His mother, God rest her soul, had been unbalanced as hell. Her hatred for Sid and Sager had known no bounds. She'd sown poison into the family bonds, seducing a teenage Sager to shame his father. Maybe Logan was just like Sid. But Sarah was nothing like Logan's mother.
“I see we should not have come.” He looked at Sid. “My apologies. I won't make that mistake again. Sheriff, I would rather Sarah not be anywhere near Hawkins. If you want her brought to Cheyenne, I'll do that, but I'd like to wait a day after you leave so there's no risk she'll cross paths with her former husband.”
“Her current husband,” Sager clarified.
Logan stepped closer to Sager, right into his space. They were of an equal height and build, one dark, one light. “What the hell is it, Sager? You've got something on your mind and it isn't Sarah. What do you want from me?”
“I want you home, for good. Helping to run the spread. I want you here, so Sid quits being a lost puppy. I want you to be part of the family.”
“That's a rotten taste of your own medicine, isn't it?”
“What I did was wrong. What you're doing is wrong. You belong here. Let the woman go.”
Logan glared into his brother's pale amber eyes. “The âwoman' is my life. I let her go, I die. That's all there is.”
“Christ, Logan.” Sager turned away, the matter far from settled.
Logan blinked and looked away, catching the sheriff's eye. Declan was watching the three of them with the hard gaze of a lawman, eyes that took everything in and offered little in return. “So what's it gonna be?” Declan asked.
“If my son says he'll bring Sarah down to Cheyenne in a couple of days, he'll do it,” Sid vouched for Logan. “I raised him to be a man of his word.”
“Well, then, I'll wait for you in Cheyenne. A week. No longer, or I'll put your ass in jail, too.”
Logan nodded. He had less than a week of freedom. His gut tightened when he thought of what jail would do to Sarah, after everything she'd been through. She'd only just begun to heal.
“You and Sarah are welcome to join us for supper,” Sid offered. “The sheriff's staying. Or I can have a tray sent to your room,” his dad offered.
Food. Logan didn't want to eat. He wanted Sarah, alone, for every minute that remained to them. “A tray would be great.”
He turned to leave, but Sid stopped him. “Son, I'm glad you're home. No matter what brought you here. No matter how long you can stay.”
Logan's gaze switched from Sid to Sager and back. He nodded. “Breakfast at the usual time?”
Sid smiled. “Some things never change.”
Logan closed the door behind him, quietly. Sarah was brushing her wet hair. She wore her simple brown homespun skirt and a calico top with a frilly collar of white lace. He longed to take her to Cheyenne or Denver and have her spend a week with a dressmaker. Let her buy every feminine piece of clothing that she wished to own. Get her out of the ill-fitting hand-me-downs donated by the women at the fort. She never complained, never asked for anything.
Jail would kill her.
She looked at his reflection and smiled. He kept his face blank. He could take her and run north, deep into Sioux country, far, far from the jail in Cheyenne. No one would find them, not even Sager, whose tracking skills were unequaled.
She straightened and crossed the room. Stopping in front of him, she placed her hands on his chest. “There's a hot water tap in the bath. You don't have to do anything at all, just sit and let the hot water fill the bath. I forgot about time, forgot about everything. You should try it.”
She laughed, and Logan found he couldn't tell her. Not yet. But it was too late. She caught the shadow in his eyes. “What is it?” she asked, the humor falling from her face.
He took a breath to form the words, but they wouldn't come out. He had failed her. She trusted him, and he had failed her. If they'd never brought the sheriff in on it, none of this would have happened. He wanted to look away, but didn't deserve to be spared the hurt he would see in her eyes.
“I have to take you to Cheyenne.”
She didn't speak, didn't move. The apprehension he'd sensed before shifted subtly to a resolute firmness. She stepped closer to him, raising her hand. Briefly, he thought she would slap him, but instead, her hand cupped his cheek.
“I've been in worse situations and lived to tell, Logan Taggert. I have done nothing wrong,” she said with utter conviction. “The law is fair and will hear the truth. How can it not with you on my side?”
He brought his hands up to her back, pressing her body against his. This was where she belonged. His hands moved upward to her shoulder blades. He bent forward, burying his face in her neck. She circled her arms around his neck. Her skin was softer than silk. He rubbed his face against her throat. He knew the stubble of his beard probably pricked her. He didn't care. He needed her close. Closer. Her skin against his.
“Love me, Sarah,” he whispered when his mouth reached her ear.
“I do.”
“I need you now. Right now. Please.”
I need you forever.
I need you forever.
She took his head and pulled him down, into a kiss. It was gentle, a soft touching of lips. He pressed against the corners of her jaw with his thumbs, forcing her mouth open, and when it did, he swept his tongue inside, into her moist heat. She tightened her hold on him, accepting him, accepting his hunger. He groaned. His body tightened in anticipation.
He pulled back so that he could remove his vest. He tossed it on the chair next to them. He watched Sarah as he unfastened the buckle of his gun belt. He draped that over the back of the same chair. He dropped his suspenders, unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled it over his head.
Bare-chested, he pulled her close to start unfastening her shirt buttons. She didn't stop him, didn't pull away, but he could feel the beginnings of her withdrawalâthe battle she waged within herself. “Look at me.” Her eyes moved to his bare chest and locked there. “Look at my eyes.” He tilted her chin up. “I will only bring you pleasure in our joining.”
He pulled her shirt from the waist of her skirt. He started on the fasteners of her skirt while she removed her shirt. His hands were trembling. He had to fight his inclination to rip the damned thing off her. Her hands, cool and competent, pushed his aside and made short work of it. She slipped the material down her hips.
He kicked off his boots, pulled off his socks, then dropped his pants and drawers. The air was cool on his bare skin, but did nothing to ease the heat thrumming through his system. She looked at him, her gaze pausing on his erection.
She still wore a chemise, corset, camisole, and drawers. Far too much clothing. “Take off your clothes. All of them.” He stood where he was, rooted to the spot, watching her slim hands make quick work of every layer. At last, she stood before him. Naked. Divine.
His eyes swept the length of her. He closed the space between them. Taking her hands, he backed her toward the bed. Nothing in him felt tender or gentle. Her knees hit the mattress. He leaned into her, pushing her back, down on the soft, old quilt. He covered her body with his, feeling the differences in their size and shape. Dominating her. He took her wrists in one of his hands, holding her immobile while his hand and mouth explored, pinned her beneath him. He wanted it rough, rougher than he'd ever had with any woman. He wanted her to know she was his.
He pushed her legs apart with a knee, seating himself in the cradle of her legs, his cock pressed against the sweet folds of her sex. He rubbed against her, aching for entrance, no waiting, no preliminaries. Her breath stroked his ear. Fast. Too fast.
He was scaring the hell out of her.
He cursed silently, reaching for the control that was usually first nature to him. He shoved his hands beneath her body, cupping her back, pressing her up against his face. He was afraid to look into her face, to see the condemnation there. He'd come at her as thoughtlessly as a battering ram. He drew a long breath and released it slowly.
Pushing up on an elbow, he dragged his eyes to hers. Her dark eyes, so unusual with fair coloring like hers, looked huge in the delicate bone structure of her face. Her very white face. Ah, Christ. His cock cared nothing for her fragility. Unable to stop himself, he rubbed against her, hungry to fill her body.
Logan tore his gaze away from her eyes while he struggled to calm his raging desire. He glanced over her body, seeking something to focus on, searching for a distraction. Her hair, which was rapidly drying, flickered in the candlelight, seemed to be coming alive.
“I want to make a memory,” he whispered, unfamiliar with the husky rasp of his own voice. He looked into her sultry eyes, dark now like black coffee. “I want to remember tonight for all of our lives. I want to know this night you were mine, that you surrendered your fears and accepted me as I am now. Flaws and all. I want to know you found joy in our coupling. Will you give me tonight, Sarah?”
She nodded, her gaze solemn as it met his. He moved from her to shove the pillows into a mountain at the headboard. Lying back against them, he opened his arms. “Come here.”
Sarah looked at Logan resting against the pillows. He was a large man. His erection reached almost to his navel, wide, flaring at the end. A vein was raised along his length. Her insides clenched in anticipation. She was not tied. He did not pull her to him, only beckoned with his eyes. She crawled over to him, not really sure what to do. His gaze dropped to her breasts. She felt her nipples peak.
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