Taming of Jessi Rose (33 page)

She spun around so he could take in the gown's full effect and the edges splayed out and whirled with her. “Do you like it?”

One again he got a teasing glimpse of navel and thighs and the underside of each breast before the gown resettled itself. Griff wondered if too much of this could make him blind. He shook himself free, then remembered that she'd asked him a question, he just couldn't remember what it had been. “What did you say?”

She chuckled at the confusion he seemed to be suffering from. “If you liked the gown?”

Very certain of his answer, he nodded. “Like a little
boy likes Christmas. The way you look makes me feel like it's
my
birthday.”

“When
is
your birthday?”

“March twenty-sixth.”

She made a mental note of the date so she could make his birthday just as memorable when the day came. “So where is this dessert you promised me?”

“Oh, I almost forgot about that. Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“For once, indulge me and do what I ask, please.”

“Okay, but you have to promise me that this ordering around won't become a habit.”

“The only thing I'm going to promise is that you and that gown are going to do some mighty shameless things in a few minutes. Now, close your eyes, woman. Wives are supposed to be obedient.”

Jessi grinned and placed her hands over her eyes. “I'm the most obedient wife you'll ever have.”

“You're the
only
wife I'll ever have.”

Jessi savored the sound of that.

“Are you peeking?” he asked.

“Nope,” she responded truthfully. He sounded as if he'd gone across the room. She then heard sizzling noises. The smell of something burning wafted across her nose.

“You can open your eyes now.”

When she complied, her eyes widened with excitement and delight.

He was walking towards her with a beautifully decorated chocolate cake. Atop the cake were lit sparklers.

“Happy birthday, Jessi.”

Filled with wonder, she brought her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, Griffin.”

“It's from Neil and Two Shafts. Gillie sent along some ice cream. I'll bring out the freezer in a minute.”

She had him set the cake on the linen covered table.
The sparklers spewed and spit little bits of light while Jessi watched with happiness etched all over her face. “This has been a very special birthday. Thank you, Griffin.”

“Glad you're having a good time.”

Her love for him swelled her heart three times its size and she cupped her palm against his bearded cheek. “Will you always be my light?”

He turned her palm to his lips and brushed them gently against its warmth. “Always.”

She blew out the sparklers, then cut them both a wedge of cake. After he served up the ice cream, they sat to enjoy the treats.

When they were done, Jessi pushed her plate away and groaned, “I cannot eat another bite.”

“No?”

“Not a crumb.”

“Then come here.”

Jessi stood and walked around to his side of the table. He eased her down onto his lap and she leaned back against the solid strength of his chest as he circled her with his arms. “You look awfully fetching in this gown, boss lady.”

“I hoped it would get your attention. At my age, I need all the help I can get.”

“You're not old and you don't need any help. When we're both old and gray, I'll still want you.”

“Do you promise?”

“With all my heart.”

He kissed her to seal the pact, and she wrapped her arms around the pillar of his neck to bring them closer. The kiss deepened and she could feel him sliding the gown over the skin of her back. “Let's try to make it to the bed this time,” he murmured against her ear.

But neither of them wanted to part because their passions were just beginning to rise.

“Stand up, Jessi.”

She slid the tip of her tongue over the sensitive corner of his mouth. She didn't want to stand, she wanted him.

He gifted her with a series of short, sweet kisses as he ran his hand up the outside of her thigh through the wide split of her gown. “I thought you said you were an obedient wife…”

“I am obedient…” she whispered, savoring his caresses and his kiss, “…when obedience is called for.”

He chuckled and stood up with her still cradled in his arms. “Let's see you prove it.”

Before their departure, he dipped her low so she could blow out the candles on the table.

The night songs of the crickets played against the silence of her room as he laid her gently atop the bed. The clean sheets felt sensual against her back; almost as sensual as the kiss he brushed against her exposed navel. Because of the gown's disarray, it veiled some portions of her body but left others deliciously bare: like the corner of her hip and the tender inside of one thigh. He kissed a lazy, meandering trail up to her breasts, then brushed his lips against the rose-scented skin of her throat. He undid the tiny bow which held the front of the gown together and widened the now unconnected halves. She lay there nude and ripe for whatever games they wished to play.

By the time he finished taking the long way around her body, she was fairly bursting with need, but he wasn't done. He made her gown a co-conspirator and used the soft fabric to tease and tantalize all the places he'd already prepared. She moaned as he glanced it blissfully over the undercurve of her breasts, then moved it like a whisper down to her waist. Gold silk stroked her hips, the skin of her legs, and the shadow-filled darkness between her thighs. Her hips rose as the touches intensified and her legs parted from the pleasuring.
When he leaned down to pay her the ultimate tribute, a purr of satisfaction slid from her throat. He parted her gently, then conquered her with such magnificent expertise, she had to fight to keep from soaring away. His mouth was wanton, his fingers brazen; she had no defenses, not against this, so a few hot moments later, as the sensations converged, she cried out and shattered like a pane of glass.

“Happy birthday…” he murmured.

It was a birthday Jessi would not soon forget.

The next morning, Griff thought about his future as he lay in bed beside the still sleeping Jessi. For the very first time, he seemed to have a purpose in his life. There'd be no more train robbing, stealing, or running around with women. He had Jessi now, and because he did, he had the potential to have a life even his brother Jackson would approve of. Last night he'd made love to her more times than he could count in a variety of places and positions that made him hard just thinking back on them. She'd been vibrant, thrilling, and very very outrageous. Back on the first night they'd met, you couldn't've paid him to believe she'd wind up being the woman he wanted to marry. He also would've had a hard time believing that her love for him would exceed any other feelings he'd experienced before. His Jessi was magnificent, strong, and shaped by all the heartbreak and pain in her life. There were many dark places in the woman he loved, places that sheltered pain, tears, and betrayal, but not even his ego was large enough to think he could just whisk them away. It would take time for him to show her that the light of his love would never fail and that she now had someone to help shoulder her fears. He knew she'd become accustomed to bearing her burdens alone, but he wanted to change that.

So that was now his purpose; to love Jessi and to walk beside her so she'd never have to walk alone. Ever.

He reached out and ran a worshipping finger up her bare spine. She shifted a bit then turned over and slowly opened her eyes. She smiled sleepily. “Good morning.”

He bent and kissed her brow. “Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?”

“No, I had a man in my bed last night who kept stripping me naked and making me do shameless things.”

“Did you like it?”

“Extremely.”

“Good.”

She dragged herself to a sitting position. “We really need to get married.”

He kissed her on the collarbone, then brushed his lips over the sleep damp skin. “Why?”

“Because I enjoy waking up with you by my side.”

“I enjoy making love to you when you wake up by my side.”

His hands were roaming and she was melting. “That sounds like an invitation. Do you think we'll have time before you have to go play sheriff?”

“We'll make the time…”

 

The next night, Two Shafts and Neil slipped into Roscoe's house as soundlessly as twin shadows and kidnapped his wife. With Reed out of town and Roscoe passed out on the porch, they had no trouble.

They brought her, bound and gagged, back to Jessi's kitchen, and Minerva was of course quite furious.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded in an outraged voice after Neil removed the gag. She was dressed in a nightgown and the blanket the Twins had taken from her bed.

“We just want to talk,” Jessi said. “Nothing more.”

“Well, it had better be good.”

“Oh, don't worry, it will be.”

Griffin pulled up a chair and took a seat before her.

There was a wariness in her eyes as she waited for the next shoe to drop, but she was doing her best to show the outrage instead.

“So, Eula, how've you been?” Griffin asked her casually.

“My name is Minerva Darcy, are you all drunk?” she asked, looking around at them all.

Griffin reached into his pocket and withdrew the most recent of her warrants. He held it up for her to see. “Says here your name is Eula Grimes.”

She looked away.

“It also says here that you're wanted in Kansas City, Denver, and Reno for swindling old men out of their savings.”

Her manner turned cool. “So what? Just because you're the new sheriff doesn't mean I should quake in my boots just because you
think
I'm someone else. You men are very very small-time.”

“She's right, you know,” Griffin replied agreeably. “No one really pays a lot of attention to a local sheriff, so boys, let's show her who we really are and maybe she'll respect us a bit more.”

One by one, Griffin, the Twins, and Preacher pinned on their marshal badges and Minerva's eyes widened very large indeed. She stared over at Jessi as if she expected her to produce one too. “Sorry,” Jessi said with a shrug. “I wish I had one, but I don't—but you do look impressed now, if I must say so myself.”

A speechless Minerva continued to stare at the marshals surrounding her.

“Now,” Griffin said, “since it's obvious you recognize the badge of a U.S. Deputy Marshal when you see one, let's start again. So, Eula, how've you been?”

She'd been bested and knew it. “I've been better, believe me. Are those real?”

“Yep.”

“What do you want?” she asked, sounding defeated.

“Reed Darcy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Fricasseed or fried?”

Griff hid his smile. “Preferably fried.”

“And in exchange?”

“You don't go to prison for being Eula Grimes and you get to leave town as soon as you'd like.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Jessi had been right, Minerva had turned on Darcy as fast as she could say her own name and showed not one ounce of guilt over it. “You're tossing your father-in-law over mighty quick, wouldn't you say?”

“Would you rather I stay loyal, Jessi? I'm a realist, and like you, a survivor. If marshals are after Reed, that means it's time for me to move on. I've been to prison once, and I swore I would never enter another. So, what do you want me to do?”

“We need to know about his shady business deals and whether he ordered his men to murder Jessi's father,” Griff responded.

She didn't hesitate. “He did. Said he was tired of Dexter being a thorn in his side and he wanted it taken out. Told the man you've been calling Percy that he didn't care how it was done.”

“If we asked you to write that down and sign it, would you?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Griffin's reply was blunt. “No.”

He looked to Jessi, who went to her room to retrieve a sheet of writing paper and a pen.

As Jessi retrieved the items she paused a moment before going back. Even though Minerva had just verified what Jessi had always believed, it saddened her to hear the truth nonetheless. Dexter Clayton, in spite of all his faults, had died because of his strength, his courage, and
his belief in standing up for what was right. Yes, Jessi wanted Reed fried—in the hottest grease possible. She took a deep breath and went back into the kitchen.

Minerva took a moment to write down the events of that night and what she'd heard Reed Darcy say. That done, she affixed her signature and the date and Griff set the paper aside to dry.

“Is the government after Reed because of the counterfeiting, too?” Minerva asked then, “because I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

“Yes,” Griffin lied. He'd no idea Reed had ties to such an operation, but Minerva didn't need to know that. “What can you tell us about that?”

“He has a press in the barn behind Ros's house. Reed's been short on funds lately so he's been printing his own.”

Griffin fought to keep his surprise masked, but was certain everyone else in the room had been caught off guard too. “Where'd he get the equipment?”

“Purchased it, I suppose. He said he was a printer's devil when he lived back east, so I assume that's where he acquired the skills.”

“Who's he been giving this money to?”

“Everybody: his hands, town merchants, the doc.”

Jessi thought back to the dollars Reed had given out during the election. “Were the dollars he passed out during the election bad bills too?”

“Printed hundreds of them.”

Preacher asked, “Do you know where he keeps the plates?”