Outlaw Hearts (42 page)

She shook straw from her dress and turned to let him pick more out of her hair. “I'll dream about you tonight, Lloyd. Will you dream about me?”

He wondered how he was going to get rid of the fire under his skin. “You know I will.”

She turned and stepped back to study him, wondering if a more handsome young man existed in Colorado. She didn't care that he wore denim pants and a plain cotton shirt and leather vest. That was part of what she loved about him, his brawn, his ruggedness, the smell of leather. She took a deep breath and smiled. “Tomorrow then.”

She hurried off, and Lloyd watched after her, studying her tiny waist, wondering how her bottom looked bare, how her long, blond hair would look hanging over her shoulders and caressing her bare breasts. Tomorrow he would know. He would be a man, and she would be a woman, and they would be one. After that, nothing could change the fact that she belonged to him. Nothing could take her away from him, and no other man could say he had been the first to claim Beth Parker.
He
would be her first man, her only man.

***

Miranda breathed deeply as Jake took her slowly, both of them trying to be quiet about their lovemaking. She arched up to her husband, the feel of him inside her as glorious and fulfilling as ever. Age had not changed this for either of them. There were more nights now when they were simply too tired or ached too much to make love, but the desire had not changed, nor their ability to please each other.

Jake licked at her breasts, savoring the taut nipples that had been offered only to him for the past nineteen years. He was still feeling good about the successful roundup, about the way the Parker herd had bounced back from the last few lean years since the terrible winter of 1880. It was good to be home again, good to have a few days off to just be with his family, to relax and make love to his wife, the woman who had been so faithful to him.

He pressed close to her, ignoring the pain in his hip as he moved in circular motions that he knew excited her. She felt the muscles deep inside her pulling at him in her climax, and he met her mouth, licking and tasting in response to her groans of pleasure. Her own sweetness was on his lips, for he had tasted her intimately, slowly, quietly pleasing that part of her that only he could satisfy, the passionate woman deep inside who was so bold and free in his arms. He figured if he died tomorrow, he would die the richest, happiest man on earth.

His life spilled into her, and for a moment he felt the sudden ache he often felt when he thought how she could not take that life and have it blossom into another child. He knew she suffered silently the pain of never having been able to have more babies. He didn't care so much for himself, but she was such a good woman and good mother, it didn't seem fair that she should have been denied the chance to have as many children as she wanted.

He kissed her several times over before pulling away from her. He pulled her against him then, her back to him, and he caressed her breasts as they lay there quietly for a moment. “That lieutenant we met today worries me a little,” he told her quietly.

“Why do you say that? Did he say something?”

“No. He didn't do or say a damn thing I can pinpoint. It's just the way he looked at me, like he was trying to remember me. I could swear I've never met him before, except for one thing—that brown mark on his neck, like a birthmark. I've seen that before, and it's driving me crazy.”

“Maybe you saw a similar mark on someone else.”

“No. It's too distinctive.” He sighed deeply and rolled onto his back. “I don't like it, Randy.”

She turned and raised up on one elbow, studying him in a ray of moonlight that came through the window. “Jake, it's been nineteen years since you left Missouri. I doubt there are any wanted posters left anywhere around, if that's what you're worried about—or any lawman left back there who remembers you. Maybe after a certain number of years you can't even be arrested anymore. Is that where you think you know him from?”

“I'm not sure I know him at all. If I do, it isn't from Missouri. It must have been before that.” He sat up, lighting the oil lamp beside the bed so he could roll himself a cigarette. He took a deep drag on the smoke and turned the lamp down again, lying back in the bed and smoking quietly. “Damn,” he muttered. “I just don't know what to make of it.”

Miranda moved an arm around his middle. “You've got to stop worrying about things that haven't happened, Jake. It might be nothing at all.”

He sighed deeply. “A man with my past always has to be alert. If it was just me, it wouldn't be so bad. But there's you and the kids…if they ever found out about me…”

“Jake, they love you. They will always love you.”

He finished his cigarette and put it out, settling in beside her and pulling her into his arms. “What would I do without you,
mi
esposa
? You've been my strength all these years, you know. If you hadn't come along when you did, I'd probably be dead by now from some man's bullet, maybe hanged. If I wasn't dead, I'd be some drunken, worthless bastard wasting my life away at Robber's Roost or Brown's Park or some other hole along the Outlaw Trail.”

She raised up and kissed his mouth lightly. “I don't believe that. You were wanting to change your life, and I think you would have done it even without me.”

He grasped her hair and pulled her to him, returning the kiss she had just given him. “You're a damn good woman, Miranda Hayes.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “It's Miranda Harkner, and I never would have been ashamed to use your real name, Jake.”

He sighed deeply, never getting over the fear that someone
would
remember that name and connect him to it. If only he could remember where he had seen Lieutenant Gentry before.

Lieutenant Phil Gentry poured himself another shot of whiskey, then leaned back in his chair to think. It was late, and the grounds outside were quiet. There wasn't much activity at Fort Lyon anymore, what with most Indians living on reservations now and troubles over sheepherders having calmed somewhat. Law had come to the West, and a lot of army posts like this one would close over the next few years.

He didn't mind. He was about ready to retire from the army anyway. For the first few years after the war he had had to suffer the abuse of being considered a “Galvanized Yankee,” a former Confederate who had come into the regular Union army after the war. He had originally belonged to the Union troops, until the war broke out. Because he was from Tennessee, his conscience had not allowed him to fight on the Union side, and he had joined the Confederates, a cause that had ended up being useless.

It was the war period that he needed to think about, because it was during that time he was sure he had met the man who called himself Jake Hayes. He had spent a couple of days at the Parker ranch, then ridden on to Denver on army business and had just got back to the fort yesterday. There had not been a lot of time to think about Parker's right-hand man, but now he could study on it. The name Jake sounded familiar when associated with the size of the man, his dark good looks, and those guns he wore. He'd seen the man and those guns before, and when he first shook hands with him, he could have sworn Jake seemed to recognize him too. He had even looked a little worried.

Why would he be worried? Men who seemed uneasy around an army officer were usually men who had a past to hide. A lot of men hiding from the law came West, changed their names, their lives. Was that what Jake Hayes was doing? He leaned forward again and opened a drawer, taking out a thin cigar and lighting it. His eyes squinted as he forced himself to remember. If Jake Hayes was wanted, then if he knew him, maybe it went back to the war. A lot of men who dealt in illegal gunrunning and that sort of thing ended up outlaws after the war was over. Jake Hayes had that look to him, an air about him that told a man he could be ruthless if necessary. Maybe if he could see the man under different circumstances, maybe if he hadn't been smiling and happy the day of Parker's shindig, maybe then it would be easier to remember him.

He thought back to when he acted as an agent for the Confederate army and bought stolen guns for the South—guns taken from Union supply trains robbed by outlaws who sold them to whoever needed them, men who didn't much care who won the war. Sometimes the guns came from small regiments of Union soldiers who were attacked and shot. Either way, the gunrunners managed to procure rifles and ammunition for the Confederates, who paid for them in gold, sometimes taken from the wedding rings of generous, courageous Southern women who wanted to donate to the cause.

He remembered that one man in particular was mentioned often among the Confederate spies and agents he had worked with. He could swear that man's name had been Jake too. He was known as one of the best with his guns, had taken on six Yankees once who were supposed to be protecting a wagonload of rifles. When he was through, the Yankees were dead, and the rifles were delivered into Confederate hands.

Zane Parker had bragged about how good Jake Hayes was with guns. “Fastest I've ever seen,” the man had told him.

Jake
, he thought.
Jake…Harper? Harker?
The last name of the Jake he had known was something like that. He knew just the man who would remember—Otis Benson. Otis had worked with him during the war as a Confederate spy, had dealt often with the gunrunners, and he had kept in touch with the man after the war. Otis was a sheriff now in Carothersville, Missouri, had told him that if he ever quit the army, he ought to come there and see about a job in law enforcement. Maybe Otis would remember a gunrunner named Jake who had a reputation himself with guns—a big man who looked part Mexican or part Indian.

He puffed on the cigar absently as he took a piece of paper from his desk and penned a wire to Otis. He would give it to his dispatcher in the morning.

***

Beth stood waiting with an eager heart as Lloyd rode toward her on the familiar roan gelding. It was a big horse, necessary to carry a big man. Lloyd Hayes was no boy in her eyes, and whenever they got to see each other again, it brought a rush to her heart. He looked so grand on the horse. Already he was one of her father's best hands. He was a skilled marksman, the one who did most of the hunting, providing the meat when the men were out on roundup or mending fences. He could outdo any of the other men when it came to busting mustangs, and thanks to his mother, he was so well educated he was able to go off to college in the fall. Their house was filled with books Miranda had made him read and study, books she had ordered from the East so she could educate him. Lloyd had passed an exam to enter college, and she was so proud. What a handsome lawyer or doctor he would make!

Once that happened, there would be no reason why they couldn't marry. He would be just as worthy as any of the sons of her father's fancy friends. Her father liked Lloyd a lot, but sometimes he urged her to consider seeing boys who came from prominent families in Denver. But that's just what they were—boys, and pampered ones at that. They couldn't hold a candle to Lloyd, in looks or skill or brawn.

He came closer, smiled when he saw her. Oh, how was she going to stand being without him? It was already July. One more month, and they would have to go their separate ways. She was so glad she had decided to give herself to him. He had been so gentle that first time. They had both discovered something wonderful, had shared bodies in a deep love she knew she could never feel for any other man; but then Lloyd had to leave the next day when her father asked him to accompany some of the other men to Colorado Springs to buy horses.

Their separation had lasted three weeks when she was compelled to go to Denver shortly thereafter, three precious weeks lost out of the short summer they would have together. Every summer her maternal aunt in Denver insisted she visit. The woman had stayed with her and been like a mother to her for several weeks following her mother's death, and had continued to insist she visit every summer so that she would continue to have a “woman's influence,” as her aunt called it, in her life.

Beth had never minded the visits before, but this summer she had hated every minute of it, in spite of how good her Aunt Trudy was to her. She supposed other girls would think it was wonderful attending balls and operas and plays, being measured and outfitted with a whole new wardrobe for the coming trip east to her finishing school. But she would much rather have been here on the ranch where she loved it best, wearing her riding skirt and spending her time with Lloyd. She had longed to talk to her aunt about her new sexual awakening, but she knew she dared not. Aunt Trudy would never understand. No one could know. It was her and Lloyd's secret.

He rode closer, smiling that handsome smile that made her shiver. He dismounted, and in the next moment he was sweeping her into his arms. “Beth! God, I missed you!”

This was the first chance they had had to be alone again after that one glorious day of passion when he had made a woman of her. He had come to the house first thing this morning to call on her, where they had made whispered plans to meet again here at Fisher's Creek. It had been so hard not to touch him or let him hold her when he was at the house, but her father and servants had been around. Now they were alone again at last!

“I missed you too, Lloyd. I hated every minute I was in Denver. I couldn't wait to get back.”

She offered her mouth to his, whimpered when his full lips parted her own, his tongue exploring, teasing. The very moment he wrapped his arms around her she felt fire in her blood, passion exploding inside of her at the feel of his arousal pressed against her belly. It seemed she had wanted him this way since she was very small; she had simply been too young to realize how love could be expressed in body as well as word. She had loved Lloyd Hayes since her first memories, and there would never be another for her, no matter how long they had to be apart, no matter what her father thought.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the blanket she had already spread out on soft sand along the creek. She rested her head on his shoulder and kissed at his neck. “I hope we can meet like this every day while you're home again.”

“I'll try to get away.” He knelt to the blanket and laid her back. “I have to be gone a few more days after today. Your father asked me to take that prize stud palomino of his to Pueblo to service some guy's mare. I can't turn him down or ignore my work, or he'll get suspicious. We have to be careful.” He kissed her eyes. “It's not that I think what we're doing is wrong, but I'd never want your father to get angry and try to keep us apart.”

“Maybe we should just get married before we go away to school.”

He removed his hat and vest, sat down and removed his boots. “When I marry you, I want to be a man graduated from college making good money. I want it all to be done right, Beth—a big, grand wedding for you, a home that's just ours.” He turned and moved on top of her. “It's all going to happen, Beth, you'll see. We'll show all of them we can do it.” He moved a hand over her breast. “And they'll never know you already belonged to me, and me to you, for a long time before that.”

He met her mouth again in a wild, hot kiss that told her there would be time later for talking. For now they were both eager to enjoy the exquisite pleasures they had discovered could be had from making love. It seemed like he got her clothes off as if by magic, and moments later he lay naked on top of her. It was all so natural and right, and she wanted desperately to please him.

The first time he took her, it had hurt so much that she had cried. Lloyd had been deeply worried, and she could see that worry in his eyes now as he hesitated.

“I don't want to hurt you again, Beth.”

“It must get better,” she answered. She reached down and gently grasped him. “I'm not afraid.” She touched him out of purely innocent wonder, moved her hand over his hard muscles, felt his nipples. Her beautiful eyes were glazed with desire.

Lloyd looked down at her slender body, her full, firm breasts, her satiny white skin. Could there be any more pleasure for a man than drinking in the nakedness of a beautiful woman whom he loved with great passion? God, how he had hated hurting her that first time, but he could not keep from doing this, any more than he could keep from breathing. Her slender thighs were parted, the silky blond hairs of her love nest inviting. He touched it first, toyed with her until she gasped and he felt her sweet juices on his fingers. He leaned down to taste at her nipples, then pushed himself inside her, muffling her cries with a hot kiss. The way she returned that kiss told him there was no pain this time, only ecstasy. To his surprise and pleasure she arched up to him in a natural rhythm, driving him wild with a new boldness she had not shown the first time. He thrust himself deep inside her, excited that he was pleasing her so. His life spilled into her too soon, for he had done nothing but dream about doing this again ever since that first time.

He released his kiss, panting with emotion. “Just stay there,” he whispered. “I'm sorry I came so fast. Just give me a minute.” He studied her blue eyes, seemingly glazed with desire. “Was it better this time?”

“It was wonderful,” she answered, her lips looking a deeper pink, her breathing coming hard. “I want to stay here and do this all day. I love you so much, Lloyd. When we're together I like to pretend time has stopped, and the day will never come when we have to be apart.” She leaned up and kissed hungrily at his lips.

He had wanted so badly to tell his father about that first experience, but there was something so beautiful and sacred about it that he hadn't even been able to tell the one person in whom he had always confided, and who he trusted beyond measure. Besides, he wasn't sure his father would understand. Jake had not fallen in love and married until he was thirty years old. Lloyd had always been too bashful to ask, but he could not help wondering if his father had learned about this in his early years through prostitutes, or if there had been some other love for him before his mother came along. If so, who was she, and what had happened? There were still things about his father's past that seemed a kind of blur, but he had given up asking.

For the moment, it was all just a quick, passing thought. For the moment there was only Beth, sweet, trusting, beautiful Beth, who had been his friend for as long as he could remember, who was now his lover and would one day be his wife. Maybe they should have waited for this, but their passion was too intense, their desire to know they belonged only to each other too strong.

They made love a second time, more slowly this time. He discovered he enjoyed moving in teasing ways that seemed to heighten her passion, and together they learned the glorious wonders of being man and woman.

Again his life surged into her, and he came closer, folding her into his arms and pulling a blanket over them both. “We'd better be careful, or you'll be sunburned in places you shouldn't be,” he teased.

She snuggled against his shoulder. “This place will always be so special to me, Lloyd. For the rest of my life, no matter what happens, I will remember how it was here that I became a woman and first lay with the man I love. It almost makes me want to cry.”

“I'll always remember it too. We'll have good memories to take with us when we have to be apart. We'll write every day. It will be like my mother says about my pa when he's gone. She says they're together in thought and dreams and in the heart. She says they're never really apart.”

“That's how I feel about you. We were friends for so long before we were lovers. We understand each other, Lloyd. It's like we're one person.”