The Cowboy's Reluctant Bride (20 page)

She stroked his neck, her fingers a butterfly touch against his scar, and he didn’t even mind. He lifted his head, grazing his thumb over her cheekbone. “Are you sore anywhere?”

“Only a little.” The words were raspy, probably from smoke.

He rubbed a hand up and down her back. “Do you need anything?”

She snuggled into him, making him wish he could feel her without clothes or the sheet between them. He wanted her to touch him all over, even his scars.

“Where’s Thunder?” she asked.

“Asleep in her crate over there in the corner.”

“Thank you for the bathwater.”

“You’re welcome.” Gideon kept his voice low, conscious of the hush in the room.

The quiet outside was occasionally broken by the chirp of crickets or the hoot of an owl. The night folded around them, cradling them in a world of their own.

Sliding a palm under her hair, he caressed her nape. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yes.” She flattened a hand on his chest, flexing her fingers in the hair there. One finger traced a scar on his sternum.

He wanted her like hell afire, but now wasn’t the time. Not after the scare they’d just had.

“You’ll let me know if you need anything? Whatever you want.”

She was silent for a long moment then raised herself so she could whisper in his ear, “I want you.”

He started to say she didn’t need to worry. He wasn’t going anywhere. But she skimmed her hand down his belly, slightly below the waistband on his trousers.

His heart kicked hard. “
This
is what you want?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She kissed him again, sending a surge of heat through him.

He wanted to strip her naked and slide into her right now. Possess her. But the other night had been too fast. This time, he intended to go as long as he could.

The scrape of her nails across his abdomen drove a hard-edged want through him. He got out of bed and shucked his trousers.

Her gaze glided slowly, slowly down his body, and the need on her face kicked off an urgency inside him. Before his knees gave, he climbed back in beside her, under the covers this time.

She sat up, reaching to pull off her chemise.

“No. Let me do it,” he said.

She gave him a shy smile and dropped her hands to her sides. He burned to get her clothes off right now. Touch every silky inch of her body with his hands, then his mouth. Kiss her until neither one of them could breathe. Where to start?

She made the decision for him, leaning forward to nuzzle his neck then nip his earlobe. Her soap didn’t quite mask the faint smell of smoke, but he’d never smelled anything so sweet.

He reached for the ribbon on her shift, glad she wasn’t wearing a nightgown like she’d had on earlier with a million buttons down the front that he likely would’ve clumsily torn off.

The garment loosened, and he dragged it over her shoulders and down her arms, nudging down the loose fabric until it pooled at her waist. Now that she was bared to him, his breath jammed in his throat.

Her nipples were tight and dusky in the pale light. He cupped her full breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples. The sight of his rough hands on her delicate skin sent his blood streaking through him in a white-hot rush.

She pressed hard against his erection, and he lowered his head, curling his tongue around her taut flesh. His name spilled out of her in a broken moan.

Hell, he couldn’t take much of that. Easing her down on her back, he swept her chemise off completely. For a long moment, he just stared at her. Silvery light coasted over her shoulders, the flat of her belly and the jut of her hip bones.

She lifted herself against him and set her teeth on his neck, sending all his blood south. He clenched his muscles, searching for control as his mouth returned to hers.

Threading his hands into her thick raven hair, he brushed his lips across her cheek, her jaw, a spot just below her ear that had her shifting restlessly against him. Gideon moved his lips to the hollow of her throat; he could feel her pulse racing beneath his tongue.

She slid her arms around his shoulders, making a ragged sound that frayed his restraint. “Gideon, I want to be close to you,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”

“I’m not.”

She reached down and curled her fingers around him. “I think you are.”

He stroked her hair. “The other night was too fast.”

“I don’t know if I can last much longer.”

He smiled. “Let’s see how far we get.”

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him hard and long. He swept a hand up her slender thigh, delving a finger inside her silky heat. Her body clenched him then went soft. Well, they hadn’t gotten very far. He couldn’t wait any longer.

He levered himself between her legs, nudging her thighs wider with one of his. Pushing slowly inside, he closed his eyes in pure pleasure. When he began to move, she kept her gaze fixed to his. The desire, the softness in her face speared clear to his heart. She wouldn’t have asked for this if she wasn’t willing to make their marriage real and permanent.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged somewhere. To
someone.
Every lash of the whip, every violent bruise and minute spent in the dark hole of prison had led him here. To her.

He slid his arms under her, holding her as close as possible, losing himself in the midnight depths of her eyes. Meeting every stroke of his body with her own, she clasped him tight to her.

She’d said they shouldn’t sleep together again since she didn’t want to stay married, and he’d honored that. But he had asked her to think about staying married and now she had answered him, taking him into her bed, her body. She’d said yes.

Chapter Thirteen

T
he next day was a blur. After rounding up the horses, Ivy and Gideon drove into town, where they reported the fire and Gideon’s gunshot wound to the sheriff. Once home, they discovered half the town there, already well on the way to clearing away the debris. The men had then helped Gideon reframe and rebuild Ivy’s bedroom while the women washed everything in the house from clothes and curtains to floors and walls.

Conrad was there, too. Gideon said he would check the stage driver’s footprints at some point, and waiting to find out if he managed to do so nagged Ivy like a headache the rest of the day.

By the time everyone left at dark, the farm had been put to rights as best it could be. She leaned against a porch column, the pup at her feet as they waited for Gideon. Tonight was clear with no smoky haze or gray clouds blocking the moon, though there was still a faint pungent odor.

Gideon walked up the steps, bending to give the pup a scratch behind the ears. His hair curled damply against his nape. The blue work shirt he wore was streaked with grime and soot. He smelled of wood and a hint of smoke.

Bracing his back against the opposite column, he scrubbed at his face with a wet bandanna. Fatigue creased his features, and she knew he had to be as tired as she was.

She opened the front door, motioning him inside. “Did you have any luck with Conrad’s footprints?”

“I managed to check them.” As he crossed the threshold, he shook his head, clearly frustrated. “They weren’t a match to what we found in the woods.”

“Oh, forevermore!” Ivy blew out a breath, both disappointed and exasperated. “That leaves the mayor as our best suspect.”

“And he’s out of town.”

“I hope it isn’t for much longer. I’m ready for this to be over.”

“So am I,” Gideon said in a gritty voice.

They fell into bed exhausted.

At midmorning on Monday, she was in the root cellar making sure that no food in here had been ruined. All the fruit, pickles and beans she’d canned were fine. Underground and set away from her bedroom, the cellar hadn’t suffered any damage. There was only the occasional whiff of smoke.

She came up the cellar stairs, intending to gather the remaining sheets, blankets and clothes that had been left on the line to dry overnight, but the
clop-clop
of an approaching horse had her changing direction.

She went to the front window, stopping cold when she saw the mayor in his buggy. What was he doing here?

Gideon was in the back pasture searching for the two remaining cows that hadn’t returned after the fire scare. The pup, playing with an old rag Ivy had knotted into a ball, dropped the toy and followed Ivy out the door then down the porch steps.

Leo braked his buggy at the horse trough along the fence. “Mrs. Black.”

“Hello, Leo.”

He remained seated as usual. “Conrad told me there was a fire out here the other night.”

Did you set it?
she wondered. “Yes, but as you can see, we’re fine.”

“It was only your bedroom?” His gaze shifted to the side of the house.

“Gideon and I managed to put it out before it did more damage. Yesterday, a big group from town came out to help clean up and rebuild the room.”

“I see.”

If he would get out of the buggy, she could get a look at his footprints. “Why don’t you come in? I have fresh coffee.”

The mayor shook his head. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Ivy wished Gideon were here.

Thunder guarded the gate, watching the mayor closely.

Leo’s gaze scanned the yard, the corral and barn. “Where’s your husband?”

“He’s just out back.” Though she didn’t feel as if she were in immediate danger, the hair on her arms prickled. “Would you like to speak with him?”

“No.” The tall red-haired man levered himself out of the buggy, leaning on his cane as he looked around.

Ivy held her breath, hoping he would take a few steps toward her and leave an impression of his boots in the dirt.

The mayor sauntered over, and Ivy struggled to keep her face blank.

“I understand you now have a contract with Territorial Stage.”

“Yes.”

“Good thinking to strike an agreement with them directly.”

Despite his words, the man didn’t sound pleased about it.

He stepped up to the gate. Thunder growled. “You certainly have had a run of bad luck.”

Hmph,
Ivy thought, but didn’t respond.

“After everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t blame you if you moved on. Have you thought about selling this place?”

Her spine went to steel. “No.”

“Would you consider it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Progress, Mrs. Black.”

“You’re talking about the railroad.” Ivy walked toward him, intending to get a look at his footprints if she could. “Mr. Nichols said the Katy had no firm plans to run tracks through here.”

“Maybe not, but the man has visited here twice. There has to be a reason.”

She tried to sneak a look at the imprint just behind him, but she only got a glimpse. Not enough of a view to compare to the ones Gideon had found in the woods.

Jumper tapped his walking stick against his shoe, earning a bark from the dog. Holding the cane by its carved head, Leo pointed it at her. “I think the railroad’s serious about coming through here, and when they do, how long do you think you can hang on to this place?”

“As long as I want.”

“Don’t be naive.” Brown eyes hard, he turned toward the gate as if he might come through. “The Katy will plow over this place just like it has farms in other communities. Plus there will be no need for stage stops.”

“I’ll make do,” she said tightly.

He came back toward her. “I’d pay you very well for this place.”

“I’m not selling.”

“That’s shortsighted,” he snapped. “I thought you a better businesswoman than that.”

After Gideon’s injury and the fire, she had no patience for the mayor’s snide remarks. “Good day, Leo.”

His gaze flickered to a spot behind her, and Gideon walked up beside her.

“Mayor.” His voice was flat and unwelcoming.

The other man’s greeting was every bit as warm.

Ivy still couldn’t get a good look at Jumper’s footprints, but he had left more than one set. She just hoped they were distinctive enough to identify.

Using his walking stick, he indicated the corral and barn. “All the trouble you’ve had out here could give this place a bad name.”

Ivy drew in a sharp breath. “Are you the one who lied about my operation to Hal Davis and his son?”

His silence confirmed her suspicions.

“Why would you try to ruin my business, Leo?”

Unhurriedly going back to his buggy, he climbed in on the same side he’d gotten out.

Gideon’s face was unreadable as he stared at the man.

Jumper set his cane on the seat beside him then picked up the reins. “Hope you don’t have any more dogs or horses killed out here. That certainly won’t help your business, either.”

Ivy wanted to smack him.

Gideon strode to the gate, and the mayor wheeled his buggy around.

Blood boiling, she watched him drive away. Not down the old road toward town, but past her woods and across the wide-open pastureland beyond.

It hit her then, what Leo had said.

“Did you hear him?” She hurried over to Gideon and clutched his arm. “That he hoped no more dogs or horses were killed out here.”

“The man’s a jackass, Ivy. He’s angry that you won’t sell and probably angry that the stage line gave you a contract.”

“No, that’s not it.” Her voice shook. She didn’t know if it was from anger or exhilaration that Jumper had given himself away. “I never told him about Tug being killed. I only told him about the horse.”

“Maybe Conrad—”

She shook her head. “You, the Farrells and I are the only ones who know about Tug. Neither Josh nor Meg would have said anything to him.”

Satisfaction lit his eyes. He turned her gently toward the gate and pointed to the ground. “Here’s actual proof. These footprints match the ones we found in the woods.”

“Wonderful!”

He started for the barn.

Ivy hurried behind him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going after the bastard.”

“I’m coming, too.”

He looked as if he would argue, but he didn’t. Grabbing up her skirts, she angled toward the house.

“C’mon!” Gideon called.

“I’m getting my gun.”

He jogged across the yard. “I’ll take care of the horses and the pup.”

She wished she could change into her britches, but she wasn’t wasting time on that. And he hadn’t used precious minutes to saddle their mounts, which was fine with Ivy.

He waited outside the corral and helped her onto the horse’s bare back. She pushed down her skirts as he vaulted onto his gelding. Together, they barreled past the pen.

* * *

Gideon and Ivy kneed their horses into a gallop, tearing past the woods and heading into open pasture. Jumper’s buggy was quite a distance away, his horse trotting at a brisk pace.

Grass flashed beneath Gideon, spots of flowers visible from the corner of his eye. The wind was mild, the sun a deep yellow in a clear blue sky.

They were gaining on the mayor when Gideon saw him lean out of the buggy. He must have seen they were in pursuit because the vehicle lurched forward and the horse began a flat-out run.

Suddenly, Gideon realized Ivy was no longer beside him. He spun his mount around. She was more than a hundred yards away, standing beside her horse.

He urged his gelding forward.

“No!” she yelled, waving him on. “Keep going! Don’t let him get away!”

Gideon wasn’t leaving her there. He kneed his horse into motion.

“My mare’s lame! Go after Leo! He’s getting away!”

Glancing over his shoulder, Gideon saw she was right.

“Go!” she urged again. “I’ll catch up!”

It went against everything inside him. Still, she had her gun if she needed it. And there was no telling where Jumper was headed. It sure wasn’t town.

Gideon turned the horse sharply and gave the animal its head. They pounded across the lush alfalfa. The distance between him and the buggy began to narrow.

Jumper’s horse couldn’t keep up the speed while pulling a buggy. Gideon soon passed them and pulled his gun, slowing his gelding in front of the man.

He aimed the weapon at the mayor. “Stop!”

The man’s gaze darted around, but he seemed to realize that no matter where he went, Gideon’s horse would overtake him.

Sawing on the reins, he slowed his animal, and the buggy rolled to a stop.

“What’s the meaning of this, Mr. Black?”

Gideon gave him a flat look. Seeing that both of Leo’s hands were on the reins, he motioned toward the buggy. “Do you have a gun in there?”

Gideon dismounted, gesturing with his revolver at the mayor. “Step out. Hands where I can see them.”

Raising his hands in the air, the mayor slid from the buggy, bringing his walking stick with him.

Gideon eased over to the vehicle and felt under the seat. “Ah. This what you used to shoot me?”

He pulled out a Peacemaker. Popping out the cylinder, he emptied the bullets then tossed the gun into the grass.

He moved in front of Jumper. “So, you’re the one who’s been behind everything that’s happened at Ivy’s farm.”

The man didn’t respond.

“I matched your footprints to a set I found in the woods.”

Leo stiffened, gripping his cane with both hands.

“Why sabotage everything?”

“I was trying to scare her off.”

“Scare her?” He thought his jaw might break clean in two. Anger drove through Gideon like a spike. “You could’ve killed her with that trap you set!”

For that alone, he wanted to squeeze the life out of the bastard. “And that fire wasn’t no attempt to frighten her. You was goin’ for murder. What could possibly justify that?” Viciousness welled up from some place deep inside that Gideon had never known existed. Gun leveled, he advanced on the cur.

Jumper retreated a step. “Do you know how much that land will be worth to the railroad? Not just in dollars, but control.”

The Kiamichi River that ran through Ivy’s property was another source of readily available water that wouldn’t have to support Paladin the way Little River did.

“That ain’t no call for murder.”

“The two of you were in the way. If she’d just left, but no. She went and got married. I had to get rid of both of you.”

Gideon knew he should turn the man over to the law, but killing him sounded better. He thumbed down the hammer on his pistol.

Suddenly, Leo yanked hard on the carved head of his walking stick.

What the hell? By the time Gideon registered that the man had pulled a knife out of the cane’s shaft, he barely had time to react. The mayor slashed at his gun hand. The revolver flew into the air, and a razor-edged pain shot up his arm.

The gash went from the back of his hand up past his wrist. Blood welled up, soaking his shirtsleeve and slicking his palm.

Jumper lunged and Gideon leaped back, barely escaping a rip to his belly.

The knife was large, the blade wide and long enough to have killed the horse and Ivy’s dog.

“You killed your own horse?” Gideon didn’t understand anyone who put down a good animal. “Why the hell did you kill Ivy’s dog?”

“It found me.”

He noticed that the lowlife didn’t claim the animal had attacked him.

The man rushed at Gideon, jabbing and chopping. He dodged, air whistling as the knife sliced past his cheek.

He circled the other man. In the split second it took Jumper to angle his body toward Gideon, he charged, ramming his head and shoulders into the bastard’s gut.

He tackled Jumper to the ground, his hand slippery with blood, his gunshot arm throbbing in agony. Ignoring the pain, he slammed a fist into the mayor’s face and tried to wrest the knife away, but couldn’t.

With his injuries, it was all Gideon could do to escape a vicious hack to the face.

The two of them rolled, dirt and grass flying. By sheer grit, Gideon managed to wrestle Jumper to his back. The coppery smell of blood reached him. His blood. Sweat burned his eyes as he struggled to keep the knife from plunging into his throat.