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Authors: Lady Legend

Deborah Camp (38 page)

BOOK: Deborah Camp
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“Tucker … Tucker …”

He recognized the breathless, moaning quality in her voice, but wasn’t inclined to hurry himself. He nuzzled the undersides of her breasts and worked his way to her undulating stomach. He painted a wet line with his tongue, circled her navel, and arrowed to the auburn nest of downy hair.

He blew softly, directing the airflow in and around her most sensitive pleasure point. She writhed, reached for him, fell back in rapt exhaustion. Tucker kissed her tender inner thighs while palming her breasts and plucking the nipples until
they stood high and bright red. Sticky fluid covered his fingers. Later, he would lick them clean.

“Tucker, please …”

He blew another stream of air and she shuddered from shoulder to toe. While he would have enjoyed more leisurely minutes, one important part of his body would have no more of it, especially when Copper curled a hand around it and guided it closer to her. He went willingly and lovingly. Stiffly erect, he had no trouble entering her swiftly. She arched her back and her eyes widened with delight. Her heels rubbed his buttocks and thighs. Tucker sat back on his haunches and pulled Copper up onto his lap, never slipping out of her. He settled her limp arms over his shoulders and crushed her breasts against the wall of his chest.

Copper let her head loll back, eyes shut. She felt him inside her, filling her, completing her. She didn’t want to move. She never wanted to move again. But she did. Slightly at first, then more when he moaned and beads of perspiration popped out on his forehead. He clasped his hands just above her hips to hold her in place as if she had any silly notion of leaving him. She held his face between her hands and kissed his giving mouth over and over again until it was as moist as hers. He smiled, eyes closed, breath coming quickly between his parted lips. His laugh was choppy, self-indulgent.

“Ooo, don’t move, sugar, or I might break.”

She squeezed him deeply inside her. His eyes flew open and gleamed with banked passion.

“Naughty, naughty. You moved.”

She squeezed him again and felt him throb and buck.

“Ahhh. Keep that up and you’ll be sorry.”

“I doubt that,” she murmured against his mouth.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist
and lifted into her, then out, creating a hot, sizzling friction. When she tipped back her head, he took advantage of the angle and ran the tip of his tongue all the way up her exposed throat, over the slight cleft in the underside of her chin and then into her eager mouth. She matched his frenzied kisses, clutching his shoulders and riding the crest of her desire as his pace quickened. She hung on through a mindless span of moments where nothing existed except her own bursting passion and his driving, relentless thrust and parry.

She was still wrapped in the throes of pleasure when he shifted positions to lay her on the buffalo robes and settled on top of her. When he joined her again, it was with masterful purpose.

At the moment of release, Tucker felt tears fill his eyes. He rasped Copper’s name and held her tightly to him. A bittersweetness invaded him as thoughts of tomorrow intruded. How would he ever be able to leave her after loving her so desperately? he wondered. He’d bedded his share of women, but until Copper he’d never forged a physical, emotional, spiritual union. She had given him more than he thought any human could give another. No matter what worries he wrestled, what demons he fought, she had the power to vanquish them for a few shining, precious minutes. He had found heaven on earth in her arms and he wondered if he had the courage to leave her. If he begged to stay, would she let him?

But he knew he wouldn’t beg. The mountains had taught him many valuable lessons, but one in particular had been a painful, necessary one. He was not a mountain man. He feared that if he stayed with Copper he would become a hardship and, perhaps, bring danger or death to her doorstep.

The greatest gift he could give the woman he loved was to leave her.

Holding him tightly against her, Copper experienced
each nuance of his body as he relaxed one muscle at a time. She wondered if he realized how much he’d changed in both mind and body. At first he had been nearly helpless, and not just because of his injuries. He’d seemed ill-equipped for wilderness life. She’d been amazed to learn that he’d captained other men. Then she had reasoned that he would be fit for such duty because he was trained to work with many to become one fighting warrior. Without others around to lead, he was lost. He didn’t know how to survive just for himself. Or, perhaps, he didn’t see the point. He’d been trained to place others’ lives before his.

Gradually, over his weeks of recovery, he’d toughened and watched her, learned from her. In short, he’d become a survivor; a mountain man.

Smoothing her hands down his back, a thought struck her. Maybe he’d simply traded one troop for another. Always the leader, he saw her and Valor as beings he could protect and marshall if need be. She smiled, unruffled by that image. She didn’t mind being seen by him as someone to protect. In fact, it was soothing. Her femininity flourished under his caring tutelage.

He lifted his head from her shoulder to examine her feline smile. “What’s this for?” he asked, touching a fingertip to one corner of her upturned mouth.

“I just decided that I don’t mind one bit being taken care of by you.”

“Me, taking care of you?” He issued a harsh laugh. “I don’t think so. You don’t need taking care of, sugar.” He sighed and laid his cheek against her stomach.

Copper responded by combing his hair with loving fingers, even as a frown moved like a thundercloud across her face. You’re wrong, Tucker Jones, she thought. Maybe I don’t
need
taking care of, but I
want
it. I want you to take care of me. But maybe that’s not what he wanted. Maybe this was
his way of weaning her from him. After all, the scent of spring was in the air, a scent she had always welcomed, but now wished away. Before drifting to sleep, holding the man who had saved her from her inner devils, she prayed for snow.

Wrestling with a harness he was repairing, Tucker didn’t know Copper had entered the stables until she cleared her throat. He jerked involuntarily and stabbed his thumb with the quill needle.

“Damn!” He sucked his pricked thumb and tasted blood.

“Oh, no. Let me see.” Copper hurried to him and plucked his thumb from his mouth to examine the injury.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbled, feeling silly for howling over such a little mishap.

“I’ll make it all well.” She licked the place and sealed the wound with a lush kiss. Her eyes flirted with his as she met his gaze. “All better? Has my medicine worked on you?”

He pulled her into his arms and rocked against her. “Your medicine always works on me, sugar.”

“Yes.” She slipped a hand between them and rubbed the front of his trousers. “I can feel it working. But that’s not where you’re hurting, is it?”

He chuckled lustily. “It is now.”

“Oh, you!” She laughed, pushed away from him, and dodged his kissing lips. “Always ready for a roll in the hay, aren’t you?” She propped her hands at her waist. “Are all men like you?”

“No, I’m crazy for sex. Back where I come from they call me Hot Pistol Jones, and I never carry a gun.” He winked, making her double over with giggles. “It’s not funny, lady. It’s an affliction.” His mock seriousness dissolved and he laughed with her. As his laughter died, he noticed she was dressed to ride; leather leggings under her short
dress, high moccasins, a lightweight beaver poncho. “Where are you going?”

“To check traps.”

“I’ll do that.”

“No, I want to get out for a while.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Valor is fussy this morning, but I finally got her down for a nap. I thought I’d leave her with you. If she wakes up before I get back, you can feed her some of that mush and honey left over from breakfast. That’ll hold her until I return.”

He saw it as the perfect opportunity to finish the baby bed he’d been working on without her knowledge. He wanted to surprise her with it before he left. Only when he noticed her expectant expression did he grasp the gem of trust she’d offered him.

“You going to leave Valor here alone with me?” he asked, and her smile grew to beaming. “You sure about that?”

“Yes. I know she’ll be safe with you.”

Tucker actually felt himself blush. “That means the world to me, Copper.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “You and Gus are the only two people I’d trust with my child.”

He covered her hand on his arm. “Thanks, darlin’. I’d be glad to watch her while you’re gone. Just don’t be gone too long. I’m not her mama and she damn well knows it.”

Copper laughed. “I should be home before supper.”

“Take the repeater.”

She nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

He kissed her lightly on the lips before letting her go. Then he watched the sashay of her hips and remembered in detail the shape of her backside. She had a delicious body, taut and lean and pillowy in the right places. Delicious.

Reluctantly, he returned to repairing the harness. His thumb didn’t pain him and he wondered
if there might be something to the legend of Copper’s tall medicine. She waved to him when she set off. After a few minutes, he went into the woods behind the stables and hauled out the baby bed he kept stashed there. Hiding things from Copper was a tough business, he had found. The woman sensed when things were out of place or not as they should be. Somehow, he’d managed to work on the bed without arousing her suspicion. He set the nearly finished bed outside the door of the cabin so that he could hear Valor when she awoke from her nap. With luck, he’d have it ready to present to Copper when she returned later that day.

He worked on the piece of furniture he’d sculpted from knotty pine for two hours before Valor interrupted with hiccupping cries for attention. After changing her and dressing her in warmer clothing, he spread a buffalo robe outside in the sun and set Valor in the center of it along with her rattler and the rag doll Copper had sewn for her. She lay on her stomach and kicked and cooed and drooled. A child of the wilderness, Tucker thought as he watched the baby. Mercy, how she’d grown! Her silky dark hair was plentiful and her limbs were chubby and strong. She had a sweet disposition, but possessed a stubborn streak like her mother. Tucker looked from the baby to the bed and admired his handiwork. The tall rails were scrolled, etched with his own design, and reminiscent of some of the columns he’d noticed on the glorious mansions along the river road between New Orleans and Baton Rouge. He’d marched along that levee and marveled at a way of life he’d never known, had never dreamed existed on such a grand scale. No wonder the Rebs hadn’t wanted to see it end!

Tucker laid down his mallet and chisel to pick up Valor. He nuzzled the baby’s soft cheek and neck, making her squeal with delight, then kissed
her button nose. She snuggled against him and he smoothed a hand over her baby-fine hair.

“Sweetcheeks, I’m going to miss you something terrible,” he admitted in a whisper. Emotion lodged in this throat, cutting off his voice. He kissed the top of Valor’s head and breathed in her baby smell as he would the perfume of roses. He couldn’t imagine feeling any closer to a child, even if he’d fathered it. Having helped Valor into the world, he felt responsible for her well-being. Remembering how small and helpless she’d been as he’d held her new, struggling life in his hands, Tucker rubbed his cheek against Valor’s hair and didn’t try to deny the tears that wet his face.

“I wish I could see you grown up, sweetcheeks. You’ll be as pretty as your mama, that’s for sure. But staying here would only bring trouble to you and your mama. I’ve got to do the right thing, Valor. I’ve got to leave you.”

But not today, he thought, trying to cheer himself. He set Valor on the robe again and turned back to his work. He didn’t begin to worry about Copper until suppertime. He fed Valor the mush and mashed some cooked apples for her to gum. As the afternoon shadows grew long and deep, he began to worry in earnest. Shortly after that, he saddled Brave and strapped Valor into the cradleboard. As he was tying his bedroll onto the back of the saddle, the dogs came bounding from the woods.

“Is she coming?” he asked, momentarily relieved.

The hounds leaped around him and whined. When he tried to pet them, they shied away and ran toward the trees, stopped and looked back at him, whining again.

“Well, where is she?” he asked, peering in the direction of the track she usually took. He heard no hoofbeats, no snap of branches or twigs. Patrol and Sentry barked at him and ran toward the trees
again, only to stop at the edge of the woods to growl and bark and whine. Their invitation was clear—get on that horse and follow us!

“Okay, okay.” He hung Valor’s cradleboard on the saddle horn and stuck the Hawken into the sheath strapped to the saddle. “That ill-tempered Ranger probably threw her,” he grumbled, swinging a leg over Brave. “No count nag that he is. I don’t know why she puts up with that demon horse.” He waved an impatient hand. “Go on,” he yelled at the dogs. “Take me to her. If that pinto has thrown her and left her, I’ll track him down and shoot him dead.”

But as he set off to follow the hounds, Tucker sensed that whatever danger had beset Copper had nothing to do with Ranger. Putting aside his own nagging fear, he focused on the trail, watching for any sign of Copper as the dogs led him deeper into hostile Indian country.

Chapter 23
 

L
eaning from side to side in the saddle, Tucker kept an eye on the tracks as Brave followed Patrol and Sentry higher toward geyser country. From the muddy tracks Tucker guessed there were six horsemen. He recognized Ranger’s notched prints, followed by the others. She’d been followed, he thought. The others had kept behind her, out of sight. Had she sensed it? It appeared not. She’d stopped at every trap and removed game. Tucker knew Copper wouldn’t have messed with the traps if she’d felt one awaited her.

Copper had been right about Valor’s disposition. The baby fretted, never pleased with her situation. She didn’t want to be in the cradleboard and she didn’t like being out of it. She didn’t want to ride draped over Tucker’s shoulder and she hated being held in the crook of his arm. He had to stop several times to change her dirty napkin and give her a drink of water. He knew she wanted mother’s milk, but she drank the water with a frown puckering her brow.

BOOK: Deborah Camp
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