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Authors: Stolen Ecstasy

BOOK: Hannah Howell
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“Near a dozen. Could be more.”
“Those townspeople?”
“Some of them. Some of them aren’t.”
“It’s the ones that aren’t that bother me. Hell. It’s just as I feared—word of the robbery is racing us to the border. Rouse everyone. We’re getting out of here.”
Still reeling from the strong desires he had roused in her, Leanne suddenly found herself cast aside. She had no time to recover before she was ordered out of bed and curtly told to get her boots on. Numbly, she straightened her clothing and did as she was told, only half watching the frantic activity going on around her.
There was no time for the shame nibbling at her to really take hold. She had barely stood up when Hunter was back at her side. He grabbed her hand and dragged her to his horse at a near run.
“Maybe you oughta gag her.”
“She won’t say anything, Luke.”
“I won’t?” Leanne suddenly came out of her stupor enough to realize that a chance for rescue could be at hand.
“No, you won’t. I figure you’re a smart girl.”
“Such effusive flattery.”
He ignored that interruption. “You’ll figure that, if you alert the posse, they’ll come in shooting. They’ll shoot at all of us—you included, because the world and its mother thinks you’re one of us. If you survive the shoot-out, they might feel inclined to listen to your tale and they might even believe it. But you’ve got enough wit to know the odds of your surviving such a fight are very small.”
She met his cool gaze for a full minute while she hurriedly thought over what he had said. To her dismay, there was a lot of truth in his words. Until she could convince someone in authority, she would be viewed as an outlaw along with the rest of the group. She could not count on anyone in the posse having qualms about shooting a woman. Softly, she cursed.
Hunter, pleased that she had the wit to heed his warning, grasped her by the waist and tossed her into the saddle. He mounted behind her. Without a word to the others, he spurred his horse forward.
The fact that the posse was riding when dawn was still a good hour away meant they were hot on the trail and hoped to catch the outlaws by surprise. He intended the surprise to be that the quarry had successfully fled the net. He also intended to be as far away as possible before the posse could pick up the scent again, so he kept his mount at a quick but steady pace. The other men followed close behind.
Chapter Four
 
B
ITING BACK ALL THE CURSES SHE FELT INCLINED
to spit out, Leanne cautiously sat down on the ground. They had lost the posse. In a way she was relieved. Unfortunately, that long hard ride had left her aching. She did not believe there was a part of her that did not twitch with pain.
After a few moments of watching the men lounge around, she eased herself along the ground until her back rested against a rock. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Since the men clearly intended to rest, she would too.
As she began to slip off to sleep, she thought of Hunter—more exactly of what they had been doing before the posse interrupted them. She knew that succumbing to his lovemaking had been a serious error. It was wrong, terribly wrong. What puzzled her was that it felt so good. She did not understand how something she knew was wrong could feel so right.
Hunter stared down at the sleeping woman. He half smiled as he recalled Charlie’s comment only moments ago. She did look like a cute little kid. Charlie was also right to wonder how someone who could look so sweet while sleeping could be so tart when awake. The girl was a bundle of contradictions.
He nudged her with his foot. His eyes widened slightly at the curse she sputtered as she kicked out at him. She didn’t learn that at any fancy boarding school, he thought and chuckled softly.
“Come on. Wake up.” He nudged her again and almost smiled at the cross look she gave him as she sat up rubbing her eyes.
Frowning as she looked around, Leanne asked, “Where is everyone?”
“East, west, north, and south. One each way. They’re making sure we really lost that posse.”
“Well then, what did you wake me up for?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “Are you thinking of bolting with the loot?”
“Nope.” Taking her by the arm, he gently tugged her to her feet. “We’re going to town.”
“To town? There’s one near?”
“Three miles to the southwest.” He watched as she used water from a canteen to dampen his handkerchief, which she had obviously cleaned and usurped for her own use, then wiped her face and neck. “You can stop plotting. It’d be a waste of time to try anything.”
That cool voice interrupted the plan for escape she had been formulating and she eyed him crossly. “Why? No law in this town?”
“Oh, there’s law—of a sort.”
“Martin’s sort, huh?”
“Not quite that low. But this man intends to retire alive, so he—well, ignores a lot. Besides, he’s a friend of mine.”
“I begin to think it’s past time someone in authority had a good look at what passes for law out here.”
“It’s no better or worse than what they have back east.” Taking her by the hand, he tugged her along with him as he strode to his horse. “Fact is, I think our lot is far more honest in their dishonesty.”
“There’s an enlightened observation on human nature.”
“Get on the horse.”
“I don’t suppose I can walk to town.”
“Nope,” he grasped her by the waist and hefted her up into the saddle, “I don’t suppose you can.”
“Just what are we going to town for?” she asked as he mounted behind her.
Collecting the reins, he started them on their way. “You need a few things before we go any further. You need a hat, some gloves, and another set of clothes.”
“Ah, this place has a town drunk too?”
“And you need your lips sewn together.”
Not able to tell by his tone of voice whether or not he was jesting or furious, she decided she would take the safer course and be silent. She had begun to see that she would gain very little by needling him.
As they rode into the small, somewhat ramshackle town she spotted a bath house. Only for a moment did she dismiss the idea of using such a place. A hot bath was a luxury she might have few chances of enjoying.
“You know what else I need?”
“What?”
“A bath.”
Glancing towards the sign she was staring at, he murmured, “You are getting a little ripe.”
“And you, of course, are a proper bouquet of roses.”
“A bath would be appreciated.”
It was not until they were inside the place that Leanne realized that a moment of private indulgence was not going to be hers. Hunter ignored her hissed complaints as he ordered two tubs of hot water. What privacy he demanded was only to separate the pair of them from whoever else might decide to use the facilities. It was not until they stood by two steaming tubs of water in a blanket-curtained alcove that she was really able to voice her complaint about the arrangement.
“I refuse to take a bath right where you can see me.”
“Then I guess that nice hot water will go to waste.” He hung his hat on a peg and sat on a rickety chair to tug off his boots.
“I should be allowed some privacy.”
“I’ll turn my back.” He did so even as he started to undo his shirt. “That’s all the privacy I can allow, Leanne.”
She fumed for only a moment. Although she knew it was probably unwise to trust him, the lure of a hot bath was too strong to resist. She turned her back to him and began to undress.
What really troubled her as she shed her clothes and hastily stepped into the tub was the overwhelming urge she felt to look at him. It was shocking. It was also alarming.
A plump Mexican woman stepped into the alcove, disrupting Leanne’s thoughts and causing her to sink down into the water.
“I will take your clothes to freshen them,
sí
?”
“Yeah, thanks, Rita,” Hunter replied as he started to soap his foot. “They’re in sore need of it.”
“
Sí
. Then I come back and help the
niña
with her hair.”
“
Niña?”
Leanne muttered as the woman left.
“Doesn’t that mean baby or something?”
“Child.”
“That’s not much better. I’m no child.”
“Oh, I know that.”
“Hunter,” she squeaked, “you said you would keep your back turned and not look.”
“I’m not looking. Just remembering.”
Leanne was certain she was blushing from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. She decided not to talk to him. Sitting naked in a tub, with Hunter doing the same not far away, made it difficult to find her usual sharpness of tongue. He would have the advantage if she tried to exchange quips with him now.
When the woman returned to help her wash her hair, Leanne found she was glad of the assistance. Without the tools she was familiar with, washing her hair in the bath suddenly became difficult. The only thing she did not like was the way Rita and Hunter chatted so amiably, Rita often looking toward him. She was glad when the woman left.
Their clothes were fresher, but also a little damp when they finally left the tubs to get dressed. The dampness was not really uncomfortable, since the day was so warm, but it reminded Leanne of something else she needed. If Hunter was going to supply her with some extra clothes, he could also supply her with some underthings.
It was not until she stood patiently in the store while Hunter plunked an assortment of hats on her head that she got up the courage to say, “There’s something else I could use.”
“Nothing frivolous. We can only take so much with us. I’m beginning to think your head shrunk in the wash,” he muttered.
Ignoring that, she pressed on. “I do not consider this request frivolous.”
“Well? What is it then?”
She felt herself blush and mumbled, “Some underthings.” When he grinned, she nearly kicked him. “I saw some over there.”
Glancing where she pointed, he saw, discreetly tucked away in a corner, all the frilly accoutrements women wore beneath their dresses. She was right. She needed some underclothes. But he was not sure they were the sort that would be useful or, more important, comfortable. As he adjusted the latest hat he had set on her head, deeming its fit as near to perfect as he would get, he mulled over the problem of underthings.
“All right, go find yourself two camisoles, as plain as possible, but no drawers.”
“No drawers?” She was too surprised to be embarrassed by discussing intimate attire with the man. “I need those too.”
“You do, but those bulky, frilly things women wear won’t set right under the pants. I’ll get you some boy’s drawers.” He glanced down at her feet. “And socks.”
She sighed as he walked off. Her life had turned into one big scandal since she had seen him in that bank. She was riding over the countryside with five outlaws, sharing a bed with one, not to mention bathing in the same room with him, and traipsing about in male attire. Wearing boy’s drawers was just a minor addition to that name-blackening list.
When she handed him her two camisoles, delicately trimmed with lace and embroidery, he said nothing, just looked at her once before taking them to pay for them. She knew her desire for those less than sturdy clothes was foolish. However, she wanted to have at least one distinctly feminine piece of clothing on. She decided it would not be wise to look too closely at that desire.
As soon as Hunter had paid for their purchases, they headed towards the sheriff’s office. Evidently, Hunter had not lied when he had called the man a friend. Leanne began to wonder if there were any honest lawmen between St. Louis and the Rio Grande.
Hunter gently nudged the foot of the gangly man dozing in a chair before the sheriffs office. “Sleeping again, Josh?”
“Hunter.” The man did not move except to flick his hat back slightly so he could peer out from beneath the brim. “Not sure you ought to linger here too long.”
“I don’t intend to. I just want a short word with Tuckman.”
“He’s inside.”
“Good. Do me a favor, Josh. Watch the young lady.” He jerked a thumb towards Leanne. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Sure thing, Hunter.”
It took only a minute after Hunter had disappeared into the sheriffs office for Leanne to decide she did not like the way the man Josh eyed her. He looked at her as if he knew something she would prefer he did not. Seeing the deputy’s badge on his vest and recalling how friendly he was with Hunter, she shook her head in disgust. Her opinion of the law was reaching a new low. After giving the man a cross look, she began to stroll up and down the boardwalk, hoping Hunter would make his visit a very short one.
 
Hunter sprawled in the chair facing Sheriff Henry Tuckman and accepted the cigar the older man offered him. He knew this meeting was dangerous for more reasons than he cared to count. Being so close to Texas, and home, increased the temptation to go to his ranch and see his family. Although he felt an urge to linger, he would resist it.
“Things go well?”
“Well enough, Henry.”
“You don’t sound too sure.” Henry scratched the gray stubble on his chin and frowned at the young man he had known for years.
“I’m not. Picked up some extra baggage.”
“You said there’d be only one stop. You haven’t gone home, have you? We agreed that would be a mistake. Hell, that’s why I traveled to this godforsaken place instead of meeting with you in El Paso or even Little Creek itself.”
“I know. There was only one stop. That’s where I got the extra baggage.” Hunter stood up and moved towards the window. “Right out there.”
Moving to look, Henry frowned even more. “Where?”
Hunter swore softly. Leanne was nowhere in sight. With Henry close behind, he strode to the door to have a closer look.
Leanne paused to glance at the wanted posters tacked up outside the jail, then stopped short. An instant later, she forced her mouth closed. There was no mistaking the face on the poster, but she stared at it in total disbelief.
Watching her curiously, Hunter called,
“Leanne, we’ll be leaving in a minute.”
Even though a mocking voice in her head told her not to be so silly, Leanne turned to face Hunter and pressed against the wall where the posters were nailed, trying to obscure one particular poster with her head and hat. “Fine. I’m ready.”
He stared at her hard for a moment, then disappeared back into the sheriff’s office. She wanted to tear the poster down, but Josh was still staring at her. She ached to flee town. If not for Josh she would have done so and let Hunter find his own way back to camp. Leanne prayed that Hunter’s minute was more like a second.
“She was acting odd,” Hunter murmured as he stubbed his cigar out in the tin plate on the desk.
“Reckon a person can look odd trying to hide her wanted poster, especially when it’s probably hung higher than she stands.”
“There’s a wanted poster on her?”

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