The Outlaws: Jess (37 page)

"This is a high class hotel. Our rooms aren't
cheap. If you like, I can direct you to a more modestly priced
establishment."

"That won't be necessary," Jess said, hanging
on to his temper by a slim thread. "Did a young woman named Meg
Lincoln check in here today?"

The clerk looked down his nose at Jess. "I'm
sorry, we don't give out information about our guests."

"Miss Lincoln is my fiancée. I was to meet
her here," Jess returned shortly.

"I'm not allowed..."

At the end of his patience, Jess grasped the
clerk's lapels and pulled him over the counter until they were nose
to nose. "I'm asking politely," he all but snarled. "Tell me if a
Miss Lincoln is registered here or you won't not like the
consequences."

The clerk's eyes widened and he swallowed,
his Adam's apple moving convulsively as his arms flailed helplessly
at his sides. Suddenly he spotted someone behind Jess and made a
squawking sound that could have been a plea.

"What's going on here?"

Slowly Jess let the clerk slip from his
grasp, then whirled to identify the intruder.

"This man is doubtlessly demented," the clerk
complained in a voice two octaves higher than normal. "He belongs
in jail, deputy."

"Howdy, Mr. Gentry," Deputy Wayland said,
touching the brim of his hat. "I was just making my rounds and
happened to look in. What's the problem?"

"No problem," Jess said through clenched
teeth. "When I ask a civil question and expect a civil answer."

"I can't give out information about our
guests," the clerk insisted.

"I was merely inquiring about my fiancée,"
Jess retorted. "She may have checked in here."

"And I said..."

"Tell Mr. Gentry what he wants to know,"
Wayland ordered. "I can see no harm in that."

"You know this man?" the clerk inquired,
obviously surprised.

"I'm surprised
you
don't," Wayland
said. His name is Jess Gentry, and he's a doctor. He used to live
in these parts."

"Gentry. Gentry," the clerk repeated. "You
don't mean one of the outlaw Gentrys, do you?"

"That was all a mistake," Wayland explained.
"Just tell Gentry if his woman is a guest in your hotel."

Though obviously reluctant, the clerk gave
Jess what he was looking for. "A Miss Lincoln checked in here a few
hours ago. She's in room 225, second floor, third door on the
left."

"Much obliged," Jess muttered, sending the
clerk a satisfied look. "You, too, deputy. I'm glad you happened
by."

"No problem, Gentry. From what I gather, the
law hasn't been good to you and your brothers. Anything I can do to
help is little enough for what your family has gone through." He
tipped his hat. "Good night and good luck."

Jess spared the clerk a triumphant look as he
strode resolutely toward the staircase. In a few scant minutes he'd
be with Meg, and all would be right with his world again.

Meg perched on the edge of the bed, tired of
pacing but unable to sleep. She'd rehearsed what she intended to
say to Mr. Wingate when she'd called on him in the morning at least
a dozen times. Her single nagging fear was that her words would
fail to move the conscienceless banker.

Weary and distraught, Meg slipped into bed,
adjusted her shift, and pulled the blanket over her. Though the bed
was the most comfortable she'd occupied in days, she felt a
hollowness, a bone-deep loneliness that only Jess could assuage.
Would they ever be together again? she wondered dismally. Would
they ever obtain that home and those children Jess longed for?

Her hand splayed protectively over her
stomach. It was entirely possible that she already carried Jess's
child. The signs were all there, if she was reading them correctly.
But she couldn't tell Jess. Not yet, anyway. He had enough problems
to deal with without her adding to them.

Meg closed her eyes and hunkered down into
the blankets, willing sleep to come. She was just starting to doze
when she heard someone rapping on the door. Her eyes blinked open
and she jerked upright, staring at the door with trepidation.
Who would be calling on her at this at time of night
?

Gingerly Meg rose, turned up the lamp, and
approached the door. "Who is it?" she called through the panel.

"Meg, open up. It's me-Jess."

"Jess! No, it can't be."

"I'm not a ghost, sweetheart. Open the
door."

With a cry of gladness, Meg turned the key
and flung open the door. Seconds later she was in Jess's arms,
absorbing his strength, his warmth, savoring the closeness she
despaired of ever having again.

"What happened? Did you break out of jail? We
can leave as soon as I get dressed. We'll have to steal horses. Do
you have a destination in mind?"

She heard Jess chuckle and she frowned. She
saw no reason for levity at a time like this.

"Whoa, love, there's no reason for us to
steal horses or skip out of town in the dead of night."

"No reason! Are you loco?" Meg scolded. "How
did you break out of jail?"

"I didn't. My brothers and I are free men,
love. I can go where I please and no one will stop me."

The breath left Meg's lungs in a great rush
of air. "You're free? I don't understand."

"I'll explain everything, but first let me
close the door. I want to see you."

Meg didn't want to let him go for fear he'd
disappear in a wisp of smoke, but she had no choice when he gently
disengaged himself from her arms and firmly closed the door. He
turned and stared at her. She heard Jess suck in his breath,
suddenly aware that the light behind her rendered her shift
transparent, and that Jess was staring at her body through the thin
material.

"God, you're beautiful," he said reverently.
"You're mine. All mine. Now that I'm free I want so much, Meg. You,
children, a home, a practice...I fear I'm asking too much."

"No, you're not," Meg assured him. Tears
gathered in the corners of her eyes and she dashed them away. "I
want those things, too. And we're going to have them," she said
fiercely. "Nothing will stop us now. Tell me what happened."

Jess eased her down on the bed and sat down
beside her. Then he proceeded to tell her how Mr. Wingate came to
the jailhouse and verbally cleared him and his brothers of the
charges stemming from the bank robbery.

"Wingate said that Rafe's new wife convinced
him to tell the truth."

"Rafe is married?" Meg said. "How wonderful
for him."

"I can't believe it. He married an
evangelist," Jess explained. "Knowing Rafe, it's hard to imagine,
but no one knows where he or she will find love. I'll find out the
details when we meet in Denver in a few months. I just wish Sam
knew he was no longer wanted by the law. It could change the course
of his life."

Meg sat in silent contemplation.
Would
Jess want to settle in Dodge City now that he was a free man?
she wondered. She knew he and his brothers owned a farm in the
vicinity. Perhaps he had deep feelings for the family property.

"What now, Jess? Where do we go from
here?"

"Home," Jess said, grinning.

"Are you referring to your family farm?"

"The farm is gone, love. Sold to Wingate for
back taxes. He gave it to his daughter for a wedding gift. From
what I gather, Delia and her husband are making a go of it. That's
more than my brothers and I were able to do. None of us are farmers
at heart. Home is Cheyenne, where I have my practice and you have
Zach."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Meg sighed
happily.

"I'd never separate you from the man you
consider your father. I'm going to be blunt, love. Zach isn't a
well man. He should enjoy whatever time God grants him."

"My thoughts exactly. When can we leave?"

"We have to wait for the sheriff to return.
He gave Rafe a document declaring him innocent of any crime, and I
want the same thing."

"I love you so much, Jess Gentry," Meg
whispered, snuggling against him. "Are we through talking now? Her
eyes sparkled mischievously. "'Cause if we are, I can think of
other things we can do."

"Making love to you is the one thought that
kept me sane while I was behind bars," Jess said hoarsely. "But I
need to wash the stench of jail from my body before I climb into
bed with you."

"There's a bathing room down the hall. It
should be empty this time of night. Hurry, love, I'll wait for
you."

Jess pulled her against him, his kiss ripe
with promise as he seized her mouth, stealing the breath from her.
When he would have broken off the kiss, Meg clung to him, reluctant
to let him go. She never wanted to let go of him again.

"I'll be back," Jess murmured against her
lips.

Then he was gone, gently closing the door
behind him. Meg slid into bed, anxiously awaiting Jess's return. It
couldn't be soon enough for her. Despite her effort to stay awake,
Meg succumbed to the drugging pull of sleep before Jess
returned.

Jess returned from the bathing room and
quietly let himself into the room. He locked the door and turned
toward the bed. A sliver of light from the lamp fell across Meg's
face. A jolt of disappointment seared through him when he saw that
she was sleeping. Sighing regretfully, he shed his clothing and
climbed into bed beside her. He took her into his arms and cuddled
her close. Scant hours ago he'd feared he'd never experience the
pure heaven of holding Meg in his arms again, and if all he could
do tonight was hold her, it would be enough for him.

His body had other ideas.

His hand moved of its own volition to her
breast. He felt the rapid beating of her heart and the warmth of
her body pressing against him and became instantly painfully erect.
He groaned when he felt her body move against him and her nipple
tauten against his palm. He stroked the tip and a tiny sigh slipped
from Meg's throat. The sound made the blood pound in his temples
and throb low in his groin. He wanted her naked, wanted her skin
against his. With slow deliberation he worked her shift up her legs
and over her breasts. When he tried to pull it over her head, she
opened her eyes and stared at him.

Jess... I must have fallen asleep."

"I wasn't going to awaken you, love, but I
couldn't help myself."

Her fingers slid into his hair at the nape of
his neck. His mouth came down to meet hers, and a tiny whimper left
her lips as he deepened the kiss, lashing the fragrant inside of
her mouth with his tongue, savoring the taste and scent of her.

When he tugged at the shift, Meg eagerly
helped him remove it. "Just the way I want you," Jess moaned.
"Naked."

He kissed the side of her neck, tasted the
small, shell-like ear, and took her mouth again, cupping her bottom
and pulling her against his arousal. Then he nudged her legs apart
and shifted his weight between them.

"Can you take me now, sweetheart? I'm sorry,
I can't seem to restrain myself. Next time we'll take it
slower."

Meg didn't want it slow. She was as desperate
for him as he was for her, and more than ready to take him. Heat
pooled between her legs, dampening her thighs with moisture.

"I'm ready," she gasped. "Please. Now."

"Thank God," Jess whispered fervently.

She felt him prodding her body's opening and
pulled him to her, frantically grasping his forearms as he pushed
all the way in until he filled her. She gasped and arched up,
sensations spearing through her; hunger, stripped to its rawest
form, need pulsing so fiercely it blazed behind her eyelids. She
clamped down hard, feeling him hot and hard, buried to the hilt
inside her.

Jess kissed her mouth as he began to move
upon her; kissed her nipples, laved them and sucked them into his
mouth as he pistoned his hips against hers. His hands moved over
body, sliding down the indentations of her spine, gliding over her
hips. Meg arched upward, heat sweeping through her as unspeakable
ecstasy flared and ignited.

She could feel his hardness, the hot, thick,
rigid length of him, the pulsing fullness, and then pleasure, sweet
and fierce, shot through her. She cried out, trembling, shuddering.
His hands gripped her hips and he thrust deeper and deeper, faster
and faster. It was primitive, decadent, deliciously carnal. It was
more than Meg could bear as she shattered into a million
pieces.

On the outer edges of her awareness, she saw
Jess stiffen, heard him call out her name, and felt him collapse
against her as he found the completion he sought.

Jess rested his head against hers for a
moment, then lifted himself off her. His harsh breathing matched
hers as they slowly regained their wits.

"That was too quick," Jess complained. "The
next time we'll take it slower. I want to taste you all over,
pleasure you until we're both too exhausted to move."

"And I, you," Meg whispered happily. "But
perhaps you should rest first."

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist
and dragging her atop him. "We can rest when we're old. Tonight is
for us."

Three days later, Jess and Meg retrieved
their bags from the station master and boarded the stage to
Cheyenne. Sheriff Diller had returned to Dodge and provided Jess
with a document stating that the Gentry brothers were not outlaws,
never had been, and were not wanted by the law. Diller even asked
Jess to stay, citing the fact that the town needed a good doctor,
assuring Jess that this time his efforts to practice medicine would
not go unappreciated.

But Jess had had enough of Dodge City to last
a lifetime. He politely thanked the sheriff and booked passage on
the next stage to Cheyenne. Diller personally saw Jess and Meg off
and wished them well.

Meg was relieved that Jess held no fondness
for Dodge City. She was anxious to return to Cheyenne and check on
Zach's health. She assumed Mary Dowling was taking good care of
Zach but she was still worried.