A Moment in Time (13 page)

      
"You know, Miss Lolita, the miners will pay dearly to hear you sing, but if you talk to them the way you've been talking to me, you'll find yourself without a job."

      
Jackie snorted again, then chewed her lower lip as reality reared its ugly head for an encore performance.
 
She had to be practical about this.
 
If she didn't play along and pretend to be Lolita Belle, she'd be the wild west equivalent to a bag lady.
 
"Damn."

      
"Seems we both could stand a little taste of lye soap."
 
His chuckle was warm and not the least condescending.

      
Jackie kept chewing her lip, trying not to remember how she'd felt lying atop this handsome beefcake a short while ago.
 
And he'd even copped a feel, though she figured that had been accidental.
 
With all these feathers, it was hard enough for
her
to determine what was shoulder and what wasn't.
 
That surge of heat she'd noticed had been simple fear, of course.
 
No reason to let another deceitful man turn her not-so-pretty-head.
 

      
Cole Morrison was no better than Blade–after all, he was male–and she'd better not forget that.
 
Survival, Jackie.
 
"So...you think the miners will actually pay to hear me sing, huh?"
 

      
"That's what I've been told."
 
Cole urged the horse over a fallen tree, then took a fork that led into a dense forest of pine and aspen.
 
"You're a legend in these parts."

      
"Legend?"
 
The Legend of Devil's Gulch?
 
She shivered as the cool mountain air encircled her bare and feather-covered skin.
 
The rash stung and itched like mad, but she struggled against the urge to scratch any more.
 
She was raw enough.
 
"I doubt they'll feel the same way once they hear me sing."
 
Not to mention their likely reaction to seeing her less than huge attributes.

      
"Well, that isn't my problem."
 

      
She glanced back over her shoulder, drawing a sharp breath when she met his piercing blue gaze.
 
God, he's gorgeous.
 
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she summoned Blade's image to the forefront of her gray matter and renewed her sense of indignance.

 
      
"No, of course it isn't your problem, Mr. Morrison."
 
She flashed a false smile and batted her lashes at warp speed.
 
"You're just delivering the merchandise.
 
Right?"
 
Somewhat vindicated by his flinch
and
grimace, she faced forward again.

      
"Touché, Miss Lolita.
 
Touché."

      
"Why, you don't sound very pleased with your success, Mr. Morrison."

      
"Would you stop calling me that?"

      
"But isn't that your name,
Mr. Morrison
?"
 
His sigh tickled the back of her neck and the curve of her bare shoulder.

      
"Yep, that's my name."
 
He shifted his weight and momentarily tightened his arms around her as he adjusted his grip on the reins.
 
"Like I told you earlier, I didn't want to do this, but they kept raising the ante until I couldn't say no.
 
I have...obligations."

      
"Money talks, eh?"
 
Jackie cleared her throat.
 
She needed to keep a clear head and determine a way to get back to the Gold Mine Saloon and make sure Lolita's portrait–and
her
time portal–became reality, with or without Lolita's impressive cleavage.
 
Running away would be stupid, considering what happened to her last time she wandered into the mountains alone.
 
With a sigh, she asked, "How much did the owner of the Silver Spur pay you to kidnap me?"

      
"I'd rather not say."

      
"Don't I have a right to know how much I'm worth?"
 
Sounds like white slavery
.

      
"No, ma'am, I don't reckon you do."
 

      
She heard him grinding his teeth and satisfaction oozed through her.
 
Good, she wanted him to feel guilty.
 
Her only hope was to convince him to take her back to Devil's Gulch, and she'd use any means necessary.

      
Remembering the shocked expression on his face when he'd realized where his hand was, she squirmed.
 
Any means, Jackie?
 
Her belly roiled and a chill chased itself down her spine even as an insistent and irritating warmth settled deep and low and fast.
 
Talk about internal contradiction
.

      
Damn.
 

      
Cole Morrison was a handsome devil, but so was Blade.
 
Jackie closed her eyes for a moment.
 
No way.
 
She'd fallen easily into Blade's deceptive arms, but not because she was loose, as Aunt Pearl would have proclaimed.
 
No, she'd fallen victim to Blade's charms simply because she wanted to be loved.
 
Always had.

      
Fool.

      
She couldn't use sex to convince Cole to do her bidding.
 
Couldn't and
wouldn't
.
 
Her eyes popped open and she commanded her hormones to surrender unconditionally, knowing they wouldn't listen.
 
Her only choice was to ignore them as best she could.

      
But what if using her body was the only way to convince Cole to help her?
 
No, she had to think, use her brain instead of her body, and forget her irksome libido once and for all.

      
Kidnapper or not, she suspected he was a man with a conscience, and that this activity violated his sense of right and wrong.
 
Why she believed that, she wasn't sure.
 
It wasn't as if she had a good track record when it came to judging men.
 
Even so, she had nothing to lose by appealing to his sense of fairness, if he actually had one.

      
And play on his guilt for all it was worth.

* * *

      
Cole urged Ruth into a slow trot when they emerged on the far side of the forest.
 
A wide meadow sprinkled with wildflowers was the only thing between them and the tiny town of Lost Creek, where the largest building was the Silver Spur Saloon.
 

      
The sooner he deposited the mouthy Miss Lolita with her new employer, the happier he'd be.
 
Then he'd take the promised gold home and plan their trip to Oregon.
 
The mere thought of a ranch made him downright giddy.

      
The dream.
 
His and Elizabeth's.
 
With a bittersweet sigh, he nudged Ruth into a canter, eager to finish this sordid business.

      
"Do you
mind
?" Miss Lolita said, clutching the saddlehorn with both hands.
 
"It's all I can do to stay in the saddle without you galloping like a madman."

      
"This isn't a gallop, but Ruth can set a fair pace."
 
He chuckled low.
 
"Want to see?"

      
"Don't.
 
You're killing me."
 
Pain etched her words.

      
Cole slowed the mare, puzzled.
 
"With all due respect, ma'am, Ruth's doing all the work."

      
"Yes, but you're bouncing my...
 
Oh, never mind."

      
Once Ruth returned to a slow walk, Miss Lolita released the saddlehorn and folded her arms across her chest.
 
Heat suffused Cole's face as he realized exactly what had been bouncing.
 
He cleared his throat and muttered, "Beg pardon, ma'am."
 
She didn't say anything, but he felt her relax a little.
 
"We'll be at the Silver Spur in no time."

      
"Go ahead, make my day."
 
Bitter laughter erupted from the woman, but she didn't look back at him.
 
"This is one helluva lot worse than a bad hair day."

      
Even more confused, he shook his head.
 
With hair the color of Miss Lolita's, every day must be a bad hair day.

      
"Ah, I suppose that little oasis ahead is our destination."

      
Cole urged Ruth across the dry creek bed and onto a rutted dirt road.
 
"Yep, straight ahead lies Lost Creek, Colorado."

      
"Oh, joy.
 
Oh, rapture."

      
"Whatever you say, Miss Lolita."

      
"I'm
not
–"
 
She left the declaration unfinished and shook her head.
 
"Never mind."

      
They were less than a hundred yards from the edge of town when she held up one hand and said, "Wait."
 
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide and pleading.
 
"I don't suppose you have a spare shirt I could borrow?"

      
"No, I'm afraid not, ma'am."
 
He understood her dilemma.
 
Even a famous saloon singer must have had second thoughts about riding into town wearing only feathers and men's jeans.

      
She sighed and faced forward again.
 
"Thanks anyway."

      
You son of a bitch, Morrison.
 
No matter what kind of woman Lolita Belle was, he couldn't take her into town exposed this way.
 
It was wrong.
 
He nudged Ruth toward a clump of pines and dismounted, looping the reins over a low branch.
 
Without speaking, he held his hands up to Miss Lolita, trying to ignore the lingering ache in his shoulder.

      
"What?"
 
She tilted her head to one side and stared at him through those expressive eyes of hers.
 
"You aren't going to try anything, are you?"

      
Cole blinked and narrowed his gaze until realization sliced through him.
 
"Ma'am, I could've done that a long time ago if I'd been so inclined."
 
He cleared his throat, trying not to remember just how inclined he'd felt with her softness filling his hand.
 
Instead, he reached for the buttons of his shirt and released them one at a time, tugging the tail out until it flapped in the breeze.

      
She arched a brow.
 
"Then why are you taking off your clothes, cowboy?"

      
He shoved his hat farther back on his head. "First, I'm not a cowboy, at least not yet."
 
He held up two fingers.
 
"Second, I'm trying to do the gentlemanly thing here and give you the shirt off my back."

      
"Oh."
 
A smile curved her lips as he slipped his hands around her tiny waist and lowered her to the ground, her feather-covered bosom coming dangerously close to his bare chest.

      
A knot formed in his throat at the transformation in her appearance when she smiled.
 
Miss Lolita was...well... beautiful.
 
He held his breath and released her to remove his shirt, wincing at the stabbing pain in his shoulder, then offered her the garment.

      
"Thanks."
 
She smiled again.

      
"You're welcome."
 
He stood there like a roped steer, sliding his suspenders back over his bare shoulders.
 

      
"You have a bruise."
 
She bit her lower lip and caressed his wounded shoulder with her now tender gaze.

      
"It's nothing."
 
He held his breath, reining in his rampant urges.
 

      
"I'm sorry I went crazy, but I didn't know what to do."
 
She sighed and met his gaze again.
 
"I didn't mean for you or Ruth to get hurt."

      
He couldn't believe this was the same woman who'd screamed loud enough to send his mare into hysteria earlier.
 
He stared long and hard at Miss Lolita, then gave a curt nod, reminding himself he couldn't really be sure she wouldn't go crazy again.
 
"It's all right now."