The Outlaws: Jess (17 page)

Jess went still. "Do you really believe I
robbed a bank?" God, how could she think that of him?

"I don't want to believe it," Meg said
slowly. "What happened?"

"It's a long story. Why don't we eat first?
I'm so hungry my stomach thinks my throat's been cut. I don't know
what's left in the pantry, but there has to be something we can
throw together. I was thinking of hiring a combination housekeeper
and cook, but it appears now that my days here are numbered."

He rose from bed and began pulling on his
discarded clothing.

Meg slid out of bed and rummaged around for
her clothes. "What are you going to do?"

"Looks like I've worn out my welcome here.
Maybe I'll head West. To Washington or Oregon."

They finished dressing in silence. Dusk had
given way to darkness and Jess lit a lamp and led the way
downstairs to the kitchen. He set the lamp on the table while they
searched the pantry food. Meg was delighted to find several eggs
and some bacon wrapped in a cloth, while Jess brought forth a
partial loaf of stale bread and coffee beans.

"I don't often cook for myself," Jess
apologized, eyeing the pitifully small amount of food they had
gathered.

"It's enough," Meg said. "You take care of
the coffee and I'll fix us some bacon and eggs. That stale bread
won't taste bad toasted."

Soon delicious smells wafted through the
kitchen. The coffee was done about the same time Meg set a plate of
bacon and eggs and a mound of toasted bread on the table. Then they
dug in, forgetting for a moment the seriousness of their previous
conversation. Meg waited until Jess drained the last drop of coffee
from his cup before broaching the subject that was uppermost in her
mind.

"You said you would tell me about the bank
robbery," she reminded him.

Jess sat back and stared into his empty cup.
"The Gentry brothers never robbed that bank. True, we were in the
bank, but it was to ask for a loan to save our farm. The Gentrys
weren't popular in town. We were Southern supporters in a place
filled with Union sympathizers. As transplanted Confederates we
joined the losing side early in the war. We lost our father but we
survived.

When Cantrell's raiders swept through Kansas
our farm was right in their path. We desperately needed money to
restore our property. Unfortunately banker Wingate didn't see
things our way. He turned us down flat. We were about to leave when
he shocked us with an offer. If one of us married his pregnant
daughter, he'd give us our loan."

"That's despicable," Meg blasted. "Of course
you refused."

"Of course. Obviously Wingate wasn't pleased
for we had no sooner cleared the door when he yelled 'bank robbery'
at the top of his lungs. He claimed we cleaned out his office
safe."

"What did you do?"

"Maybe we were wrong to run," Jess
reminisced. "We stopped at the farm long enough to gather a few
mementos. By then the posse was after us. Dodge City is a rough
town with rough inhabitants. We wouldn't have had a chance had we
stuck around to defend ourselves. We would have been strung up
without a trial before the sheriff could stop it. So we split up.
Rafe rode West and Sam headed South. We made plans to meet in
Denver one year from the day we split up. Each of us feared that
one of us wouldn't make it."

Meg searched Jess's face. "There's more to it
than that, isn't there?"

Was he so transparent? Jess wondered. Meg
couldn't possibly know about the guilt he suffered for making
outlaws of his brothers unless she had read his mind.

"What do you mean?"

"I knew you were harboring a secret, and now
that I know what it is, I sense that something else is bothering
you."

Jess laughed, trying to make light of his
guilt. "Are you a witch?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm astute enough to know
what you're feeling."

"My brothers are outlaws because of me," Jess
blurted out. "Delia Wingate's unborn could be mine. I dallied with
her but I wasn't the only one. Had I owned up to the deed, Rafe and
Sam would be home on the farm now, putting the loan to good use. I
didn't want to claim a child that might not be mine. I was a
coward."

"You're not looking at this logically," Meg
insisted. "You knew Delia was...bedding other men so you owed her
nothing. You can't blame yourself for not taking responsibility
when you weren't the only man involved."

Jess shook his head. "I should have done it
for my brothers. Rafe is the oldest but I was the most responsible
brother, the sensible one. The family could always depend upon me
to do the right thing. Only I didn't this time."

"I'm sure your brothers don't feel that
way."

"Probably not Sam, he never took
responsibility for anything, not even when he was at fault. As for
Rafe, he might have accepted responsibility had he been in my
shoes."

"You've got to quit blaming yourself, Jess,"
Meg urged. "And I don't think you should leave. Not yet, anyway.
Maybe Sheriff Bufford won't ever get around to looking at those
posters. Besides, I wedged yours so far to the back of the drawer
he might never find it."

Jess grasped her hands. "Do you want me to
stay, Meg?"

"I...want you to stay, but I don't want you
to end up in jail."

"You mean you won't turn me in for the
reward?" he teased.

"That's not funny," Meg chided crossly. "I
wouldn't...I couldn't do that."

"Then come with me. We'll leave together.
I've heard Oregon is a beautiful place. Have you ever seen the
Pacific Ocean?"

Jess couldn't believe he'd just asked Meg to
go away with him. Was he loco? He didn't deserve a woman like Meg,
and Meg deserved better than he could give her.

Meg pulled his hands from his grasp. "I
can't. I can't leave Zach."

"He can come along."

Now he knew he was crazy. How could he drag a
sick old man over mountains and dangerous territory?

"Zach won't leave Mary, and I won't leave
him. Don't ask it of me, Jess. I owe Zach my life."

"I see," Jess said evenly. "Perhaps I should
leave Cheyenne before you and I become more involved than we
already are. I didn't take precautions when we made love. I'll wait
around long enough to make sure you're not carrying my child, then
I'll leave."

A sob caught in Meg's throat. "I didn't
mean... I'm sorry I hurt you, but you have to understand about me
and Zach. He's not well, I'm all he has. He'd marry Mary if he
could but..."

Jess's shoulders stiffened. "Oh, I
understand. I understand very well. I'm all right to bed but you
have no intention of hooking up with an outlaw. I wanted us to
marry, Meg. I didn't intend to make you my mistress."

"You want to marry me?" Meg gasped,
stunned.

"That was my intention."

"I don't need marriage to be happy."

Meg thought of Arlo, and how he'd changed
into a beast after marriage. No, she wanted nothing to do with
marriage.

Jess gave her a strange look. "All women
desire marriage. Is it because I'm an outlaw?"

Panic rose up inside her. She'd had all she
could take of marriage. After Arlo she'd vowed to remain unwed for
the rest of her life. Even though she was fairly certain she loved
Jess, she couldn't marry him. She couldn't take the chance of
unleashing the beast inside him.

"I've made up my mind never to marry, Jess.
You being an outlaw has nothing to do with my decision."

He gave her a heated look. "I can make you
want to marry me."

"You can make me want your loving but you can
never convince me to marry you."

"Does Arlo have anything to do with your fear
of marriage?"

"He has everything to do with it!" Meg said
fiercely. "God, I hate him. I hate what he did to me and what I've
become because of his abuse. If not for you, I'd never know the
gentle side of loving. All I would have known is pain and
degradation. I'll always be grateful to you for that."

Jess pounded his fist on the table. "The
bastard! Tell me where to find Arlo and I'll gladly wring his neck
for hurting you." He searched her face? "What was Arlo to you?

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk
about him."

"Why is it so difficult to tell me the truth?
I thought...dammit, Meg, I thought you cared for me, but I see now
I was mistaken."

"No, you weren't mistaken. If you stay in
town I'll become your mistress, but I won't leave Zach. I'll be
anything you want me to be, just don't ask me to marry you."

Jess pushed to his feet and held out his
hand, his features hard as granite. "Very well, if that's the way
you want it. Come upstairs. I want you again. This time I'll try to
remember I'm your stud and you're my mistress."

"Jess! I didn't mean it like that and you
know it."

"I know nothing of the sort. Are you
coming?"

Meg stared at his hand but there was really
no choice. She had probably just ruined the best thing since Zach
that had ever happened to her, but that didn't change her feelings
about marriage.

She wanted Jess. She'd always want him.
Always love him.

But she had to be realistic. Jess was a
wanted man whose fate rested in the sheriff's drawer. Waiting for
her to make up her mind could be dangerous for him.

"Are you coming, Meg? Or do I have to toss
you over my shoulder and carry you to bed?"

Meg could tell by his fierce expression that
he'd do exactly as he said if she didn't go along with him
peacefully. With a sad sigh of acquiescence, she placed her hand in
his.

Jess's anger turned inward, upon himself. He
couldn't believe how foolish he'd been. He had no business
proposing marriage. As long as he was a fugitive he had no future.
He might always be on the run. Nevertheless, it hurt to be turned
down. Knowing that Meg cared so little for him was devastating.

They had reached the top of the stairs before
Jess's rage began to cool, but it hadn't subsided enough to make
him change his mind. If she wanted to be his mistress then he'd
treat her like one.

Jess had reached his bedroom, had his hand on
the doorknob, in fact, when Meg suddenly balked.

She glared at him. "I've changed my
mind."

"About what?" Jess asked coolly. "I
distinctly heard you say you would be my mistress."

"Yes, but..."

"Then act like one. Don't worry, I'll be on
my way before long so you won't have to suffer my intentions too
long."

"Dammit, Jess! Why are you acting like this?
You don't really need a wife right now, any more than I need a
husband."

"I've already come to that conclusion," Jess
said harshly. "Unfortunately, I still want you."

Ignoring her squawk of protest, he swung her
into his arms and carried her inside his room. Very slowly he let
her slide down his body, until her feet touched the floor. He heard
her release a shuddering breath as he unbuttoned her shirt and
pulled it down her arms. She hadn't bothered donning her torn
camisole and was naked beneath her shirt.

His eyes lingered on her breasts, then his
hands came up to massage them, his fingers determinedly pebbling
the tips. He heard her moan when his hands cupped her bottom,
dragging her more solidly against him, and he grinned.

Suddenly Meg became aware that he was
maneuvering her backward; until she felt the wall pressing against
her back.

"Jess, what..."

Jess didn't answer, so intent was he upon
removing her trousers. Finally he succeeded in dragging them down
around her ankles. With one arm around her waist, he lifted her and
swiftly removed her boots. Then he pulled her trousers all the way
off. Still holding her, he slid his hand up between her thighs,
teasing her, parting the tender folds of her flesh and stroking
her.

Meg gasped. She was wet she realized, her
body tense with desire. Their angry words hadn't diminished her
desire for him. She could feel his hardness pressing against her
and her body caught fire. His hard mouth came down on hers,
plundering fiercely, ravishing her with his tongue.

Her fingers curled into the open neck of his
shirt as he continued to stroke between her legs with one hand,
while popping the buttons on his trousers with the other. The he
was lifting her, his rigid length probing, finding entrance. She
gazed into his face. His expression was fiercely possessive,
impossibly demanding, fueled by urgency. He kissed her hard, his
hands tightening on her bottom as he began to thrust wildly inside
her. He raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pounding
into her again and again.

She felt the tension building, escalating.
Her body shook; breathing became nearly impossible as she soared
toward an earth shattering release. Arms and legs curled tightly
around him, she let the momentum carry her, and fell headlong into
a yawning abyss of molten heat. Scant seconds later, Jess galloped
to his own release.

For long minutes there was only the sound of
their harsh breathing. Then slowly he eased her legs from around
his waist and set her gently on her feet. He turned away and
straightened his clothing. Meg watched him warily. She'd never seen
Jess like this. When he turned around to face her, his face held a
wealth of regret.

"Go to bed, Meg. Tomorrow I'll take you
home."

Meg edged away from the wall toward the bed.
"What happened just now?"

"I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you.
No woman in her right mind would marry a fugitive. You deserve
better. I don't get angry often. Did I hurt you?"

Meg felt an unbearable sadness. "No, but I
fear I hurt you. I probably didn't explain myself well. I will
never marry. I do lo...care for you, Jess, but I have this
uncontrollable fear of marriage that has nothing to do with
you."