The Texan's Dream (26 page)

She leaned down slowly, letting her breasts brush his chest before her mouth covered his lips. The kiss was deep and demanding. He raised his hands and moved lightly over her body in contrast to the fiery kiss. His feather touch drove her hunger, and he wondered if he could satisfy this woman of few words.

He laughed against her mouth, knowing he’d die trying if need be. Rolling her onto her back, he entered her suddenly and caught her cry of pain in his mouth.

For a moment, she was still, and he almost pulled back. But, instead, he kissed her with more tenderness than he’d ever known he possessed. He caressed her gently until slowly, she responded.

When he rocked inside her, she tensed once more and he began again, kissing, loving, worshiping. Until finally, he moved and she moved with him.

He silently ordered himself to take it slow, but the need for her pounded through his body at full gallop. Be gentle, he thought, yet when she shifted beneath him, she drove him wild.

Finally, he could wait no longer. He pushed one last time and felt his very soul flow into her. For a while, he drifted from heaven, mindless. Nothing ever would, ever could, feel so good. Nothing mattered but Kara in his arms.

Slowly, he became aware of her beneath him and shifted his weight. She moved away as silently as a breeze.

For several minutes he lay still trying not to die of pure happiness. No words could ever explain how she made him feel. Whole, he thought. She makes me feel whole.

He could hear her dressing and forced his eyes open.

“Kara, that was wonderful.” He watched her pull on her undergarments.

“Yes,” she answered. “It was nice.”

“Nice?” he shouted as she slipped into her skirt. “My brain and heart were competing to see which would explode first, and you say it was
nice?”
The woman had lost her mind.

She pulled on her blouse. “I’ve really nothing to compare it to, Jonathan.”

“There is nothing to compare it to, Kara.” He grabbed his trousers, angry that she’d be so calm. If she’d felt one tenth, one hundredth of what he’d felt, she never could have called it nice.

She picked up her shoes and jacket and walked toward the cave without a word.

Jonathan scrambled with his clothes and followed her, suddenly angry. When he reached the cool darkness of the cave, she stood beside the rope trying to decide how to climb out.

All reason left Jonathan in a flood of emotion. Here was the perfect woman, who’d made perfect love to him, and all she’d said was “it was nice.”

Grabbing her by the arm, he whirled her to face him. “Maybe we should give you something to compare it to.” He cupped the back of her head and drew her mouth to his.

He’d half-expected her to shove him away, to say once of nice was enough, then tell him good-bye. But, to his surprise, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back.

He wasn’t sure how their clothes got off again, or how they ended up on the soft bed of garments and pine needles. All he remembered was running full speed into paradise and this time she was with him. Their love-making was wild and tender. He was starved for Kara, as though it had been years since he’d touched her.

In the shadows their every move seemed magical, full of mystery. Her body was still warm from his lovemaking in the pasture, her skin still blushing. She tasted of passion. This time when he caressed her body, she reacted to his touch and to the promise she knew would come. Her lips were swollen and sensitive to his kiss, her breasts full as she strained for his touch. He spread his hand across her abdomen and moved lower, loving the way her legs moved apart in welcome. She was his, totally, without restrictions, as surely as he was hers.

When he moved within her, she whispered his name and, this time, he took her to heaven with him. Passion drove them higher and higher until her body was fiery hot against him and his hands moved in bold strokes branding her forever with his touch. He tasted her kiss hungrily as he moved within, loving the way her breasts arched to brush his chest.

And somewhere in the madness, he realized they were doing exactly what she’d planned when she’d first whispered “nice.” He was giving her more. All he had. Body and soul.

As they held one another and drifted back to earth, Jonathan decided he must surely be dead. He no longer had the energy left to move.

Kara curled against him and whispered, “Now
that,
darling, was wonderful.”

Jonathan found the energy to smile.

TWENTY-NINE

SNOW HUNG LIKE THICK FROST IN THE AIR AS JONATHAN and Kara rode into headquarters. It was almost midnight. The main house was quiet with only single candles showing from a few windows. He could hear card games still going on in the bunkhouse.

His grandmother had set up rules long ago. No drinking or gambling on the ranch except on holidays, and then only after sunset. The ranch hands took advantage by drinking and gambling all night despite knowing they’d have to be up and in the saddle come daybreak.

Gideon held his horse as Jonathan climbed down, then helped Kara to the ground. Unlike before, he boldly kissed her. Jonathan didn’t care if the world knew how he felt about her.

“Boss.” Snort materialized from the shadows as though he didn’t notice them kissing. “H. B. got the Irishman back, and I put Miss Kara’s bags back in her room.” The old man looked nervous even in the dark. “O’Toole had a headache so Luther gave him a double dose of that snake oil he uses. The Irishman passed out in the buggy inside the barn.”

Jonathan wasn’t really interested. He’d just had the most wonderful evening of his life and he didn’t want the problems of the ranch to filter into his thoughts. “Put a blanket over O’Toole and leave him there ’til morning.”

He took Kara’s hand and started up the steps, enjoying the way she walked close enough to him to brush lightly against his side.

“Well,” Snort interrupted as he followed. “That’s only part of the problem.”

Jonathan faced the old lawman and waited. He’d never be alone with Kara if he didn’t give the old man time to say whatever it was Snort thought couldn’t wait until morning.

“Somehow Quil got loose.” Snort fidgeted. “We closed off every exit, but he’s in the barn with the passed out Irishman and the girl who thinks she’s an Indian. There weren’t enough of us to go in after him, and we sure didn’t see any need to let the soldiers know. They’re all drunk. They’d shoot him for sure and probably half the horses in there.”

Frustration twisted Snort’s brow into deep furrows. “Since you weren’t here, we didn’t see anything to do but wake up Wolf and Adam. Quil’s not likely to hurt the girl or her baby, but if he finds O’Toole, the Irishman may never wake up. We hoped Wolf could think of something, and we figured we might need Adam if things turned bloody.”

Jonathan ordered Kara to go inside and turned toward the barn. “Who else knows, Snort?”

Snort fell into step on his right. “Wolf woke Daniel and Wes.”

“Great!” Jonathan frowned deeper when he noticed Kara on his left side marching along with him as if she’d been called to war.

“Go back to the house,” he snapped. Then realizing she’d probably think him harsh, he added, “Please.”

“Not a chance,” she answered with her chin high. “If you fight, I fight.”

Jonathan looked toward heaven. Quil would snap her in half if she got close to him. Her only chance might be that the Apache people disliked killing the crazy. If Kara walked in the barn with Quil untied, she was definitely insane.

The three McLain brothers and Wolf stood near the barn door. As always, the strong men were like an army. Their silent presence reminded Jonathan again of how many times in his life they’d proved there was nothing they wouldn’t do for him. To them, he was family, whether he wanted to be or not.

Jonathan looked at Wolf. “Is he still in there?”

The hairy ranger nodded. “But he’ll find a way out soon. I heard him and Dawn arguing. From the few words I could catch it was obvious she wants him to take her and that baby with him.”

Wes leaned into the conversation, absently brushing the scar he’d earned in battle years ago. “We thought of storming the place, but we don’t want to take a chance of hurting Dawn and the child.”

“How do you want to handle this, son?” Wolf asked.

Jonathan smiled. The powerful man might still call him son, but he was letting Jonathan know that he was there to follow his lead. They all were. Jonathan was no longer the kid they had to keep out of trouble; he would be leading now.

“I go in alone.” Jonathan stripped off his coat. “If we rush him, Quil will fight to the death. And if he’s found a weapon of some kind, several of us could be hurt. But I know him—if I face him unarmed, he’ll stand the same way.”

“We’ll back you up. All you have to do is call.” Wolf said the words as though swearing an oath.

“Thanks.” Jonathan unbuttoned his shirt as he stepped through the barn door. The others followed, but only a few feet.

Jonathan glanced back at Daniel, then cut his eyes to Kara and back, silently telling the preacher to watch over her.

Daniel smiled his kind smile and nodded slightly. “Keep an angel on your shoulder,” he whispered as he caught Jonathan’s shirt.

“And your fist drawn.” Wes stood at full attention. “For this time, we’re all here to cover your back.”

Jonathan glanced from one to the other. Four men. His brothers in spirit. For the first time in his life he realized his luck. He’d traveled around the world looking for a home and it had been right here waiting for him all along.

He squeezed Kara’s hand to let her know everything would be all right and faced the circle of light from a single lantern in the center of the barn.

“Quil!” he challenged as he stepped away from the others.

The Apache moved from the shadows as Jonathan guessed he would. They’d both been taught that when an opponent comes straight into battle, he earns the right to be met in kind. The years may have separated them into two worlds, but the teaching of their childhood remained strong.

Jonathan spoke to Quil in Apache as he removed his gun belt.

Quil nodded then glanced behind him to say something to Dawn.

Kara pulled at Wolf’s sleeve. “What’s going on?”

“Jonathan’s challenging him as leader of the tribe.” Wolf’s whisper traveled several feet. “The fight is to be without weapons.”

“But Jonathan said they were the only two left of their tribe.”

“That doesn’t matter. Quil has to fight. If he wins, he’s determined to leave and knows he’ll be killed by the soldiers. If Quil loses, he has to listen to Jonathan’s advice. But he doesn’t consider Jonathan a friend anymore. He’ll not listen unless Jonathan wins.”

“How long do they fight?” Kara whispered as the two men circled, drawing closer and closer to one another.

The first blows shattered the silence of the barn echoing off the rafters. Both fighters backed away and began the dance once more.

“The times I’ve seen this challenge, it was to the death.” Wolf answered Kara’s question without looking at her.

Kara bit into her knuckle and turned to watch. The two were like strong young bucks, ramming against one another, then pulling apart to circle. Again and again, she heard the pounding of fist against flesh. They moved in and out of the lantern’s light, dancers caught up in a deadly waltz.

The blows she heard when they were hidden in the darkness were worse. The sounds drifted from the shadows to strike fiercely against her heart. While Jonathan fought for Quil’s life, the Apache fought just as hard for the right to die.

“Can’t you stop it?” She stared at the four men beside her. Adam, Wes, Daniel, Wolf. They were all intelligent men, most seasoned in battle, but they did nothing to stop the challenge.

Both fighters were bloody now, gasping for air in the moments between blows.

“We’d all take his place if we could.” Adam’s caring eyes finally focused on her. “But Jonathan is the only one who can save Quil. If he wins, he proves he’s a brother—a member of the tribe.”

Kara stared as Jonathan wiped blood from his cheek, smearing crimson across his face like war paint. For a moment she saw the boy running wild across the plains. Then the fighters moved once more out of the light.

One shattering blow rang out. Kara tried to peer through the darkness. Suddenly, from the far side of the barn, Dawn screamed. Quil staggered into the light and tumbled to the ground.

Jonathan stood above him, his legs wide apart, his chest heaving for air. He spoke first in Apache, then in English. “Come no nearer, it will shame Quil.”

Dawn spoke to Jonathan from the shadows in a frightened voice but came only close enough to offer a blanket. Jonathan’s gaze never left Quil’s body as he pulled on his shirt.

Jonathan wrapped his friend in the blanket, then lifted Quil and carried him to a horse. “Kara, bring Dawn. She says she must come along. I’d probably have to fight her to get her to stay.”

“Where are we going?” Kara was almost afraid to ask.

“To bury Quil forever,” he answered in an angry shout.

She fought back tears as she let the men help her onto a horse. When her eyes met Dawn’s, all words choked in her throat. The young mother’s stare filled with pain. Kara had to look away.

Kara took the reins of Dawn’s horse and followed Jonathan while Dawn wrapped an extra blanket around her and her baby.

Wolf mumbled something to Jonathan. All Kara heard was that he and H. B. would follow as fast as they could get everything together. Wes and Adam were already moving among the horses, saddling several mounts.

Jonathan rode silently out into the night, leading a horse with Quil folded over the saddle.

It took several minutes before Kara realized they were headed in the same direction as the pine growing from the rock. They were almost there when H. B., Wolf and the McLains caught up to them. H. B. and Wolf pulled pack mules loaded with supplies.

Jonathan spoke to Dawn as Adam and Daniel carried Quil atop the boulder. Dawn stepped into the darkness beside the tree as Wes pulled lanterns from the supplies. Jonathan lowered her baby then followed with a glowing lantern.

A light shone from below, making the pine glow. Kara followed next, allowing Adam and Wes to lower her. She took the baby from Dawn and moved out of the way as the men slowly handed Quil’s body through the opening.

He moaned, making Kara jump.

“He isn’t dead!”

“Yes, he is.” Jonathan faced her. “Quil has to be dead. No one, not even the ranch hands, can know that he’s still alive or he’ll be hunted. He’ll know no peace until he’s dead, so he’s dead to the world as of now.”

The men dropped down supplies. Blankets, weapons, tools. Quil tried to sit up.

Jonathan moved close to Kara as Adam joined the group. He didn’t speak to her, but pulled her close as if having her near was enough. No words were needed.

They watched as Adam treated Quil’s wounds while Jonathan knelt and talked to his Apache brother.

Kara sat beside Jonathan, brushing her hand along his leg, sensing somehow that he needed her to stay close.

Quil made no move to push Adam away, but he frowned at the bandages Adam wrapped around his ribs.

“I need to take a look at your eye,” Adam said as he turned from Quil to Jonathan. “And that cut on your cheek may need a few stitches when we get back home.”

“I’m fine. Kara’s damaged me worse.”

Adam knelt beside them and ignored Jonathan’s protests.

“This is the only place I can think of where Quil might be able to live,” Jonathan explained. “If he stays within this canyon, no one will find him. There’s food and water, and I’ll check on him from time to time.”

Jonathan stared at Dawn and Quil. “It’s not an answer for them forever, but maybe for a few years. When the Indian Wars are over, they can leave and maybe find someplace to live in peace. I’ve promised them more supplies in the months to come.”

“Are you sure Dawn wants to stay?”

Jonathan nodded. “I explained. Here she can keep her child and not have people think she’s crazy. But it’s more than that, she wants to stay with Quil. She says he’s her man now, he just doesn’t know it yet. I’ll make sure they are not bothered.”

Wolf stood. “Does that mean you’re keeping the ranch?”

Jonathan looked at Kara. “My heart is here. My family is here. If we can meet the terms of the will before next summer, the ranch will be ours. And once it’s mine, I’ll never let it go.”

Without another word, all but Quil and Dawn climbed out into the cold night. Kara glanced back and saw Dawn kneeling beside Quil, who lay bandaged atop a blanket. In a thin sliver of moonlight Kara saw the Apache’s hand cover Dawn’s fingers, and Kara knew they would be all right.

Without a word, Jonathan clasped her hand and gently pulled her toward the horses. They covered the distance back to the ranch in record time. The men took care of the mounts while Kara walked into the house alone.

* * *

Allie was in the study, nursing her new son when Kara tiptoed in. The rest of the house was in shambles. It reminded Kara of how a turkey looks a few hours after Thanksgiving. The basic skeleton of the Christmas party was still there, but rearranged. Wrapping littered the floor in the dining room and great room. Several of the cookies that had been decorations a day ago now had bite marks out of them. There was nothing but crumbs left of the cakes and pies that had lined one wall this morning.

“We missed you at dinner,” Allie said as Kara passed the study.

“I’m sorry,” Kara lied as she tried to think of some reason she could give other than explaining the entire story. She could hardly tell Allie that she’d been kidnapped, rescued, and made love to in the few hours she’d been missing.

“There will be other Christmases.” Allie winked as though she’d guessed a small part of what might have happened.

“I hope so.” Kara tried to remember if Jonathan had spoken of marriage, or forever, or love. He had come after her, that was something, but Kara was tired of trying to make fabric from the threads in her life. She believed her father loved her. She pinned her hope on Devin marrying her from one statement he’d made. Was she making a lifetime from one wild, wonderful afternoon ?

Kara said good night to Allie and slowly climbed the stairs. She’d given herself completely to a man who’d told her more than once that he had nothing to give her. Oh, he’d said she was one of his tribe, but that hardly counted as a proposal.

She closed the door to her room and sat on the bed next to her bag. Christmas was over. The parties, the company, the excitement would all pass. Would she go back to being the bookkeeper?