Tender Touch (27 page)

“Did he say why?” she asked.

“No, and I didn’t ask.”

It was obvious she wasn’t going to get any answers from the young man. Angry and frustrated, she tied on her bonnet, settled Patch inside the wagon and started walking while Tobias cracked the whip over the oxens’ backs and drove the wagon. A few minutes later, Col rode up on the dappled gray. He had a black gelding in tow. “Climb on, we’re going for a ride.”

His tone warned against arguing with him, but she thrust out her chin and said, “Where?”

“You’ll find out. Just get on the horse or I’ll put you on, and let me warn you, woman, I’m not feeling very gentle at the moment.”

“No, Col. I can’t go off with you. Someone might see, might
. . .

“Might what? Who?”

She blinked back the tears that threatened. “Don
’t you understand, he . . . you
. . . Oh, damn!”

Furious and frustrated, knowing he’d do as he promised, Brianna threw herself onto the black, not caring that her skirts were hiked up and her stockinged calves showed. He stared at her only a moment, turned, and kicked the gray into a trot.

They soon left the train behind, heading north. He led her through a maze of small hills and ravines, then into a deep valley entirely surrounded by towering perpendicular rocks. High overhead a family of hawks soared in wide, lazy circles. Brianna tipped back her head, her eyes shielded by her hand as she watched them.

Col followed no trail, and yet seemed to know exactly where he was going. Finally, they entered a small canyon. A spring gushed out of the rock to form a deep pool and a narrow stream that emptied eventually into the North Platte. The floor of the canyon was carpeted in rich green. Ground squirrels scampered through the grass, stopping now and then to stand on their hind legs and stare at the intruders. Yellow warblers sang from the willows and robins stalked fat worms along the bank. White yarrow and yellow cinqfoil bloomed in the meadow. A private, hidden heaven.

“Oh, Col, it’s wonderful,” Brianna cried, jumping down from her horse, her anger forgotten in her enthusiasm. “How did you find it?”

He watched her turn full circle, taking in everything, the high rock walls embracing the green meadow, the bright flowers bending with the breeze, the birds and rodents. Her smile was as big as the moon still riding the western sky. In spite of the dust and insect bites covering her face, he thought her the most beautiful sight of all. An ache started in his heart and worked its way to his groin.

The days since their last night together on the South Platte had become a torture he endured only by staying where he couldn’t see her. The nights, even though he wore himself ragged, were impossible. Only stubborn pride kept him from sneaking into her wagon after the others had gone to bed. All he had to do was close his eyes and he could feel her silky flesh beneath his hand. He could taste her, smell her.

At odd times of the day and night he would remember the delicate arch of her brows, the tiny mole on her neck at the collar line, the way the loose hair at her nape and temples curled as sweat dampened them, the graceful, loose-wristed way she fanned the flames when she started a fire, or the shy, hungry glances she sent his way when she thought he wasn’t looking.

The idea that she might want him, love him, as much as he wanted her, seemed as far-fetched as Jim Bridger’s yam of petrified birds singing in petrified trees on the lower Yellowstone River. He’d opened his heart to her, not because he thought she could learn to love him, but because he’d had no choice. She had become like air to him, like food, water and sleep. He’d be damned if he’d let her drive him away for no good reason.

But he’d have to handle her exactly right. It would be like gentling her all over again. He didn’t mind. Especially when she smiled at him the way she did now.

“Stumbled onto this place some years back.” His low drawl hid the racing, thudding ache in his chest, and the desire that sent blood rushing to his groin. “Thought you might like a bath.”

“A bath, oh, yes.” She hurried over to the pool and knelt to test the water. After the hot days they’d been suffering, it felt deliciously cool to her fingers.

Col dismounted and left the horses to graze on the lush grass. She was trying to reach the buttons on the back of her dress when she felt him brush away her hands and undo the top button himself. She jerked away and turned to eye him warily.

“Wait a minute. Why are you being so considerate of me all of a sudden?”

“Ain’t treating you no
differently than I ever have.”

She couldn’t argue that. “All right. Why are you being nice after how rotten I’ve been to you lately?”

His mouth quirked. “Have you been rotten?”

“You know I have. Now what are you up to?” She glanced at the pool and back at him. “You brought me here so you could get me naked and seduce me, didn’t you?”

“Sounds like a right good idea,” he said, grinning.

He looked so handsome, it was impossible to hang onto her anger. She closed her eyes and dredged up the vision of him dancing with Lucy. “If you wanted sex, you should have brought Lucy instead of me.”

“Dammit, woman, I don’t want Lucy.” He started toward her, his hands fisted. “I want you and I damn well intend to have you.”

She backed up, holding up a hand to fend him off. “Lucy was good enough for you in Ash Hollow. You can’t have her and then come running back to me just because you got tired of her.”

His words seethed from between his clenched teeth. “I never had Lucy. Not that night, nor any other night.” Her foot sank into water as she reached the edge of the pool. He had her trapped. There was nowhere to go. With both arms out-held in entreaty, she cried, “Col? Col, what are you going to do?”

He stopped two arms lengths away. “I’m giving you a choice. Take your clothes off and start bathing, or I’ll rip them off and take you as you are here on the ground.”

“What . . . what are
you going to do while I bathe?”

“Take my own bath.”

“No! I-I want you to go away.”

He shook his head, kicked off one moccasin, then the other.

“But
. . .” She crossed her arms over her breasts in a gesture of such maidenly modesty that he laughed.

“Already seen you naked before, woman.” He took his gun from his waistband and set it on the grass. Then he flipped off his possibles bag. His slow drawl and sleepy, slitted eyes were so sultry and sensual, she felt her blood heat and her pulse quicken.

“I’ve had my hands on nearly every inch of your body.” His belt dropped and he reached for the hem of his shirt. “I’ve tasted your mouth, your ears, your neck.”

The shirt hit the ground and he stepped closer. Her knees turned to pudding. “I’ve touched you where no other man will ever touch you again.”

He yanked on the thong that held up his leggings, let them fall, then stepped out of them as gracefully as a cat in a puddle. “I’ve suckled your breasts, woman, and I intend to do it again. Here. Now.”

One more step brought him up against her hands, naked except for his clout. Her head shook back and forth as she tried to deny the power in his gaze, in the muscles bulging from his chest, shoulders and arms, in his commanding stance.

Reaching out he took her hand and drew her a few feet away from the water. Holding her gaze with his own, he then guided her hand to the tie on his clout.

She stared at him, her brow furrowed as though she couldn’t believe what he expected of her.

“Do it,” he said in that quiet, dangerous voice that told her he’d reached the limit of his patience.

Taking the thong in her hand, her gaze held by the turbulent storm in his, she yanked. The clout slipped, hung for a moment on his swollen member, then fell.

“Now turn around,” he told her.

She turned and felt his hands on the buttons down her back. He parted the fabric as he went and placed his warm, moist mouth on her bared skin. She sucked in her breath and bit her lip to keep from moaning with the pleasure of his touch.

When the last button had been freed, he peeled the dress down over her shoulders and arms, his mouth following in its wake. The dress caught on her hips. He pushed it off and let it fall. Then he brought her around to face him again and sta
rted on the buttons of her cami
sole.

Brianna’s lips parted. He bent and kissed her. Her eyes closed. Inch by inch she felt her upper body bared to the breeze, his hungry gaze and searching mouth. Adrenalin roared in her ears, speared through her veins, and sent her blood and pulse racing. A sweet ache started between her legs and her hands itched to feel his body beneath them.

When his lips closed over a nipple, she could no longer stay silent. She moaned. Winding her fingers in his hair she held him to her, lost in the pleasure he gave her. She barely noticed when he freed her of her drawers. But when he left her breast and knelt to remove her shoes, she cried out in protest.

“Don’t fret, sweet woman,” he murmured, standing again. “I’ll give you everything you want. In time.” He picked her up and carried her into the pool. At waist depth, he let go of her legs and let her body slide down along his until her feet touched bottom.

Common sense fled. Need overcame fear.

“Col,” she whispered as his mouth tried to claim hers. “I’ve missed you so much I thought I would die, but this is so wrong, so dangerous.”

He nuzzled her chin, her ear and her neck. “Dangerous, how?”

She hesitated, knowing she shouldn’t give him an honest answer, and yet, she heard herself say, “Barret. He
  . . .
he might have followed us. He’ll kill you. I-I couldn’t bear it if he killed you.”

“Is that what this nonsense has been about the last week?”

She nodded, her brow furrowed with anxiety.

“Barret’s nowhere near here. I’ve been visiting his camp, destroying his supplies, setting his mules free. He’s been too busy chasing them to worry about us.”

“But there’s
. . .”

“What? Or is it who?” He stepped back, his eyes as dark and fierce as the tornado they’d survived at Windlass Hill.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. I won’t tell you. You’ll kill him and—”

“Punch Moulton!”

Her eyes flew open.

“So, I’m right. The bastard’s threatened you. He’s got you so scared, you were afraid to even talk to me. You’re right, I ought to kill him.”

Her fingers dug into his arms. “No. Please, Col. Think of Dulcie. Think of her baby.”

He stared at her a long time before the tension in his muscles eased under her hands. His mouth was a hard, straight line beneath the sweep of his sun-bleached mustache. His hand came up to poke one finger between her breasts. “All right. But if that belly-crawling son of a snake comes anywhere near you, he’s gonna have a run-in with my fist, understand?”

She nodded and let out the breath she had been holding.

“Now come here.” He put his hands on her waist and drew her against him. “I’ve missed you and before we leave this valley, you’re gonna know exactly how much.” Then he brought his lips fiercely down on hers. When he lifted his head, words poured out of him like sugar from a torn sack.

“Lord, but I want you, woman. I want you so damn bad I don’t know if I can hold off until you’re ready for me.”

He kissed her nose, her chin, her cheeks.

“Got to tell everyone I’m not your brother. To hell with what they think.”

He kissed her ear and the sensitive spot at the hinge of her jaw.

“You’re mine. Can’t let you go. Never.”

He angled his way down to her neck, tasting the dust and the salty sweat and wanting nothing more than to taste every inch of her. Putting his hands under her armpits, he lifted her until his mouth could take its fill of her breasts.

Brianna braced her arms on his shoulders, her fingers digging in to the hard muscles. A sob clawed its way up from her chest, through her throat, to burst from her lips.
“Oh Col, I thought I’d lost you
. . .”

He lifted his head to look up at her. The sun behind her cast a halo of light around her head. She gazed down at him, tears tracking her cheeks. Slowly he lowered her to the sandy bottom of the pool.

“You’ll never lose me, Bri. Can’t you see I love you?”

A light entered her eyes, making them shine. “But, I’m not young like Lucy, Col. I’m not pretty like her either, just big and—”

He shook her. His eyes, so soft a moment before, turned hard. “Don’t say that. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me and that’s all that matters.”

Her lips curved in a coy smile. “But I am big.”

“Tall, yes. But perfect.” He drew her into his arms, crushing her breasts against his chest and cradling her hips against his. “You fit me like you were made for me. What more could a man want?”

She laughed, then so
bered. “I’ve been so scared and
. . .” As if embarrassed, she buried her face against his neck. “Col, I-I ache.”

“You ache.” He rubbed against her to let her feel the hardness of his need. Her shyness and her vulnerability touched him and made him want her all the more. “Woman, you don’t know what ‘ache’ is.”