Untamed (20 page)

"Oh, man, this is good." Butter dripped off his chin as he savored the first bite. "I haven't had real biscuits like these in so long, I forgot what they tasted like."

"Mmmmm," Long Belly agreed after stuffing an entire biscuit into his mouth.

Sissy, who was slow filling her plate, simply said, "Looks good, Josie. Best I've seen since we left Lola's."

"Hell," said Daniel, talking through a mouthful of mashed potatoes and gravy. "This is the best grub I've had since—well, since I can't remember. I thought you couldn't cook."

"I can't," Josie claimed, expecting the question. "So don't get used to this. These are just a couple of recipes I picked up here and there."

Daniel was working on a chunk of ham he'd sandwiched between the halves of a biscuit, but that didn't stop him from saying, "Here and there, or on your father's cattle ranch?"

"Here and there." She looked at him sharply, hesitating a moment before she added, "Now shut up and eat."

The old Josie Baum would never have delivered such a rude comment, but then the person she'd once been had spent a lifetime hearing her stepbrothers and Peter Baum let her know in those same words that her thoughts and opinions were unwanted. To deliver rather than receive the foul reprimand felt much better, if not proper.

Daniel apparently had no problem with Josie's insolent tongue. He simply dove into his food, finishing the rest of the meal in silence, save for the slurping and gobbling of men unused to sharing their table with women. When the last fork was laid in surrender across an empty plate, Josie cautioned the group to remain in place.

"Don't move," she said, heading to the stove. "I have one more surprise, so I hope you saved room for it."

She'd left the cake at the back of the cooktop hidden beneath a scrap of clean toweling. It hadn't risen as high as she'd have liked, but after drizzling the top with a mixture of sugar and water, then sticking a wooden match in the center to serve as a candle, she thought it didn't look too bad under the circumstances.

After lighting the match, Josie turned to the group at the table and said, "Happy birthday, Sissy."

Daniel joined in offering muttered birthday wishes as Josie brought the cake to the table. Long Belly just sat there looking puzzled.

"Make a wish," Josie urged, pushing the cake beneath Sissy's nose. "Then blow it out quick before the match burns down."

Sissy made a funny little sound in her throat, something close to a sob, and then pushed out of her chair. She hardly looked up at Josie, but what she could see of her eyes looked wet.

"I ain't never had no birthday before, and I don't see the need for one now. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

With that, she went to the ladder and made her way up to the loft, damaged ribs and all.

* * *

Later that night, after Josie had finished scrubbing the kettles and dishes she'd insisted on cleaning herself, she finally joined Daniel, who'd been lying in bed for what seemed like hours. Until Sissy's disturbing reaction to the birthday cake, he'd figured he'd seen the last of his own bed until the women were finally able to go back to Miles City—a thought Daniel would just as soon not contemplate.

The fact that Josie had a whore's disease should have been enough to make him glad she'd be leaving soon, but dammit all, he still wanted her. How could she have wound up in such an occupation in the first place? he wondered, again thinking about her family in Miles City. He didn't know much about the whoring profession, but he had heard that most loose women were either orphaned, abandoned, or just plain booted out of their families. He couldn't imagine Josie in any of those circumstances, but then again, he had trouble picturing her as a whore, too. She was, at the least, a very complicated female. One that he wanted so badly, he'd finally figured out a way to have her. Earlier Daniel had dug through his possibles bag and found a little item that would smooth the way toward easing both their frustrations.

When she finally blew out the lantern for the night and joined him in bed, Josie surprised Daniel by going back to her old posture—as rigid as a lodgepole pine. And just as quiet. Now what the hell was wrong?

He took a stab at the cause. "That cake you baked was good. Real good. Best I ever had."

In the darkness came one word. "Thanks."

Digging deeper, he said, "It's too bad Sissy didn't appreciate it more."

"Yep."

He tried another tack. "Think maybe she's got a burr in her saddle because you found that buffalo, and not her?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I just know that I was only trying to be her friend tonight."

Success at last, or so he thought. "Well, I just want you to know that I think it was a right friendly thing you did baking up a birthday cake like that, especially since you don't—er, cook."

Josie sighed heavily, the first real sign that he was getting to her. Then, unfortunately, she let him know exactly what she was feeling.

"Shut up, Daniel. I want to go to sleep."

Undeterred, he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around Josie's waist. She wore only her chemise, her body soft despite the rigid core, and she smelled sugar-sweet, just like a birthday cake. Best of all, no longer would he have to lie next this woman, touching, holding, but not really knowing her—at least not in the way he needed to so badly. It was time to let her know that.

"You've been seeing to everyone else's needs tonight," Daniel whispered. "Would it interest you to know that I've been thinking of yours?"

"What's that mean?"

"I want to make love to you, Josie—real love and real pleasure, not what we've been doing."

She stiffened in his arms. "But we can't. I told you why."

"I know," he said, barely able to contain his glee. "You're sick and all, but what if I told you I figured a way around that?"

He wouldn't have thought it possible, but Josie grew even more rigid. "You have... but how?"

Daniel reached under his pillow and withdrew the item he'd hidden there. Dangling it between them, even though she couldn't possibly make it out in the darkness, he said, "Guess what I found?"

Chapter 13

"Damn, Josie, it's a rubber, not a snake. Since I got it from a gal in your line of work, I assume you've seen a couple before. Quit playing around and get back over here."

She didn't know exactly what a rubber was or how it could be used to save a man from a diseased woman, but Josie knew precisely what Daniel had in mind. That was why she'd jumped out of bed and run over by the stove.

"Come on, sweetheart," he urged. "Don't tell me you'd rather stand there freezing in the dark than climb back in this bed with me for a night of unbridled pleasure."

She stifled a moan, understanding at least what he meant by pleasure. She wanted nothing more than to lie in bed with Daniel while his lips and hands did what they would to her. But tonight he wanted more, and apparently he had the means to take it. How to turn him away this time? After all the lies she'd told, Josie doubted that Daniel would appreciate the truth at this late date. Trouble was, she couldn't think of another lie.

"Go to sleep, Daniel," she finally said, hoping that would do the trick. "I want to sit here by myself and think a while."

He took a long time replying, and when he did, Josie wasn't honestly surprised by his reaction. "Well, to hell with you, Miss Baum, and to hell with your thinking. In fact, to hell with playing the gentleman. You like that chair so much, you can just stay in it for the rest of the night."

"What?"

"You heard me. If you can't bring yourself to make love to me, then I sure as hell can't imagine why you'd want to sleep with me."

"But—"

''That's it, Miss Baum. I'm going to sleep."

While things hadn't turned out exactly the way she'd hoped they would, Josie counted herself lucky—for tonight, anyway. Wrapping herself in Daniel's coat, she curled into the chair nearest the stove, and tried to make herself comfortable.

Fuming, Daniel lay on his back trying to figure out what it was that made Josie Baum the woman she was—and why he couldn't stop himself from wanting her.

She was still an enigma in certain areas for sure, that frustrating virginal whore act, in particular. With the exception of her friendship with Sissy, she seemed to care about only one thing—that stupid buffalo. On the other hand, Josie had more than enough hate to go around. Near as Daniel could figure, she hated all Indians with cause enough to hate only a few; hated being told what to do, especially in regard to what most sane people would consider female work; hated her life as a whore; and most of all, hated him. Daniel figured he knew why, too—his Cheyenne blood. Why else would she continue to refuse him what she'd probably done for a hundred others?

Fuming all over again, he tried to look for another reason that she might have refused him. Could be, he supposed, that Josie had decided to find another way to support herself once she got back to Miles City, an admirable plan if it were true, but also damned inconsiderate. Fact was, he wanted her now, and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that she wasn't worth the humiliation, he knew he wouldn't be happy until he'd had her. So what had he done toward that effort? Tossed her right out of his bed.

"You stupid ass," Daniel muttered to himself as he felt along the night table for the box of matches. He'd half hoped that Josie would come creeping back to bed on her own, begging and pleading for sanctuary, apologizing for putting him through this endless agony. Now it seemed plain that if she were going to join him beneath the blankets again, he would have to go get her and drag her back to bed.

After he got the candle lit, Daniel squinted into the darkness across the room. He could barely make out her shape in the scanty light, but he could see that she had curled up on a chair and fallen asleep. Guilt pricked at him as he limped over to where she sat. She would be as stiff as a poker and kinked up like a ball of barbed wire if she stayed in that position much longer. And it was his fault. All his fault,

"Josie?" he whispered. "Wake up and come to bed. This is no place for you to sleep."

Her head bobbed against her chest, and then she abruptly looked up at him. "What?"

"I want you to come back to bed."

"Oh, no, you don't. I'm staying right here." Daniel wrestled her out of the chair, bad leg and all. "Come on to bed now."

"No."

Josie struggled against him as Daniel peeled her out of his coat. Then, sparing his tender leg as much as possible, he began to drag them both across the room. "You're getting in that bed with me now, or I'm—"

The door to the cabin crashed open then, a chill wind blowing the rest of Daniel's words right out of his mouth. The lean shadow of a stranger filled the doorway for a split second, and then it pounced into the room.

"Turn her loose," the intruder demanded, sounding young and unsure of himself. This curious announcement was immediately followed by the blast of a shotgun.

"Oh, damn.
Damn.
" The shadowy figure howled and began hopping up and down.

Using that moment of agony and confusion to his own advantage, Daniel shoved Josie aside and reached for the intruder's gun. As his fingers curled around the barrel, the stranger raised the weapon and fired a second round. For a horrifying minute, Daniel thought his hand might have been blown off by the blast. Then he realized that the stinging vibrations came from the repercussions of the shot, and not because his fingers were hopping around on the floor like five little headless chickens.

In the time it took for Daniel to contemplate the condition of his hand, the intruder regrouped and launched another attack. The empty shotgun fell to the floor with a clatter, and then the willowy shadow was on him like a cat on a hare. Since Daniel's mending leg could barely accept his own weight, it was a simple matter to bring him down. Fists flying, the man sprang onto his prone body the minute he hit the floor.

"I'll kill you, you dirty no-account bastard."

Slender fists pummeled Daniel's face, but even in the midst of warding off the beating, he recognized the phrase as one that Josie had used on him.

"What have you done to her, huh?" cried the stranger. Something hot and wet splashed down on Daniel's face. "Is she raped?" he went on, his voice wavering.

The utterly bizarre reality that he'd been shot at and then attacked by an assailant who was crying—
crying
—struck Daniel in the funny bone, even as he took a blow to the nose. He might have laughed if something heavier than the sobbing man hadn't piled on top of him then, crushing him so that Daniel could hardly breathe.

Long Belly, who'd thrown himself onto the stranger's back, all but growled as he said, "I have never counted coup on such pretty yellow hair before. Prepare to die."

Daniel looked up to see that one of Long Belly's hands was filled with a clump of blond hair, the other with the handle of his scalping knife. When the blade touched down on the man's pale white skin, he shrieked in horror. That drew a high-pitched scream from Josie. Racing across the room, she threw herself on Long Belly's back.