Emma's Blaze (Fires of Cricket Bend Book 2) (9 page)

“Yes, ma’am.” Bill took her hint. His hand parted her thighs, and confident fingers brushed against her most private of places. Delicate teasing followed. All Emma’s thoughts flew up into the stars. All that mattered in the world was Bill, loving on her. His rough beard prickled the skin of her stomach, and his hair brushed soft against her fingers. Each kiss felt as if he was branding her as his own.

He shifted his body, and filled her with his manhood with one forceful, but thrilling push. Emma let a laugh of pleasure escape her lips.

Bill’s eyes sparkled as he feigned concern. “A man might get his feelings hurt at a woman laughing during something like this.”

“A man should take it as a compliment. It means I’m enjoying myself.”

“I should hope so.” As he plunged in her, his fingers kept toying, and she soon felt her body racing to the edge of desire. The way he used her, as if he were claiming every bit of her being, thrilled her. His imploring brown eyes watched as she moved in reaction to the feelings he stirred. At last, it was all too much. With a weakened yelp, she came up off the ground and fell back against the dirt, but his hand moved behind her head to catch her before she landed.

“Bill…”

He put his lips on hers for a long moment, easing his fingers away from her. Bill kept close watch on her face as he sped up his thrusts. He pushed her legs up so her knees nearly touched her shoulders, and he came at her like a raging bull. The weight of him nearly crushed her until he reared back and groaned before he jolted and spurted his seed onto the grass beneath them, with a primal sound. His body pressed to hers for each eruption. Emma’s hands gripped the dirt at her sides as she bounced against him. His big hands held her hips in a tight grip as Emma watched his release follow his pleasure and the features of his face return to rest.

For a rough cowboy, he’d proved a damned attentive lover.

In the aftermath, Bill seemed to crumble. He lay beside her on the bedroll, closing his eyes and pulling her tight. He held her as if he’d protect her, even in sleep.

“Why, Mr. McKenzie, that was downright reckless of you.”

“Don’t remind me.” The stubble on his jaw brushed her shoulder. “Been a long time since I did anything like that.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” Emma answered.

The grass tickled her bare skin, the cool blades a bed beneath their two bodies.

“You ever feel like telling that story of yours, I’m eager to hear it.” Bill traced a finger down her side.

“It’s a simple story, really. Once I thought there was no way a man would lie about love. Come to find out, its rarer to find one who doesn’t.”

“I don’t.”

“I know.”

“Emma—”

The sound of her name, spoken with his rough-edged voice, made her interrupt. “Don’t, Bill. Don’t you dare say things you don’t mean and ruin everything.”

They fell silent then. Emma stroked the hair on his chest as she listened to his breathing, which slowed, then became calm before it turned rhythmic and deep. He slept quickly, and she studied his face and his skin.

How in the world had she come to this?

Just over a year earlier, she’d been singing in a saloon in Fort Worth. The crowds had been receptive, and the money had been good. So good, she’d had a new dress made. It had been red as blood, which was a striking color against her hair. Designed to please, the dress had been cut to show arms and shoulders and cleavage and leg. The moment she’d slipped into it, she’d heard the sound of gold coins jangling.

Give them what they want, sweetness.

The green eyes of the man she chased came to mind. Once, she’d thought his eyes were beyond beautiful. They’d held promises and dreams of mansions and wealth, which Emma could use to flee the sometimes dreary reality of life out west. For anyone at all, it was risky. If the criminals didn’t rob you and the fever didn’t get you and you managed not to starve to death, you just might survive. For a woman, it was extra dangerous. Grossly outnumbered by men, women often found themselves on the wrong end of attention they didn’t want, and came to bad ends. There were bad men in the world, and it was often hard to tell who the good ones were. Emma had dealt with the good, the bad, and the ones who were somewhere in between, but she’d survived.

The green eyes, along with the man who possessed them, had vanished.

Along with them had gone her money, that magnificent red dress, and the only piece of jewelry she had from her mother—a pin with small stones in the shape of a sparrow.

The sparrow she had worn, so The Sparrow she had been called.

What would the man lying next to her think if he knew her story? Would he flee from her, or would he stay by her side and hold her against his broad chest in the comfortable way he did right then, like they were made to lie together?

Bill sighed in his sleep, and a little smile came to his mouth.

Emma nuzzled herself into his shoulder and figured she’d think about those things later. For now, she wanted to breathe him in, to feel the warmth of him against her skin, along with the heat of the popping fire in contrast to the cool night air.

CHAPTER TEN

Bill

“You keep whistling like that, and I might have to shoot you,” Andrew grumbled as Bill made his way to the horses in the morning. “Too damn early.”

Not even Andrew’s complaining could ruin Bill’s mood. He’d made love to a beautiful woman he was crazy about, then lain with her for hours before sneaking back to camp and sliding into his own bedroll so as to not raise suspicion. He’d slept tight against her, skin-on-skin, feeling the softness of her body. There, he’d slept the sweet sleep of satisfaction.

Emma the Sparrow, from Virginia.

Lord, she was the kind of woman who made a man have to whistle. He’d been whistling “Susannah” since he’d woken up to find Emma next to him, her red waves of hair askew, and her face relaxed. He’d watched her breathe, the soft way her chest rose and fell, and traced his fingers along the delicate strength of her arms. It was obvious to Bill that she belonged in a big brass bed in a fine room instead of on a worn bedroll. Still, he wouldn’t feel sorry that she’d found her way to him, regardless of the crazy circumstances.

Though he’d lived each day of his life, he began to think maybe he’d never been truly alive until Emma had come out of the woods in his arms.

“You’re taking her to Cricket Bend, I suppose.”

Andrew’s question stopped him for a moment.

“That’s right. We discussed it while you were off cheating men out of their money.” Why the plight of the Sparrow was of any interest to his brother, Bill didn’t know, but it raised his hackles. “She’s my responsibility. Besides, any of the rest of you show up in Cricket Bend, Sheriff Anderson will hang you before you can say Hello. And I wouldn’t blame him.”

Andrew scoffed. “Well, he might not get the chance. Thinking I’ll head over to Greeley instead. Hear they’ve got a lively gambling parlor.”

Bill turned to leave. “You leave the drive one more time, you’re done. You know the rules.” He’d been ready to fire his brother for so long, the words came easily.

“Curse the rules. I’ll leave, and come back, whenever I choose.”

The arrogance in Andrew’s tone infuriated Bill.

“Not as long as you’re on payroll.”

“Pa won’t fire me, and he’ll be mad at you if you do.”

“He’ll back me.”

Andrew waited a moment. “Your precious Sparrow is up to something.”

“Watch your tongue.” Bill tightened the cinch on Orion a little too roughly, and the gelding jumped. Realizing he’d hurt his horse, Bill hurried to undo the cinch. Getting rattled by Andrew would do him no good. Bill’s strength was keeping his head in all situations, and that was why he’d been put in charge.

“I know a thing or two about con artists.”

“I won’t have you talking like that. She’s just a woman who’s trying to get somewhere. That’s all.”

“She’s using you to get there.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe I’m not the one who needs to be rescued. You’re so caught up, you don’t even realize she’s got you tied where she wants you.”

“And, apart from travel to Cricket Bend, what would she want from me?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow at Bill’s defensive tone. “Maybe she already got it.”

Bill couldn’t stop his fists from clenching at Andrew’s words. “I didn’t wake up this morning planning on beating you into a pulp, but that don’t mean I won’t.”

Andrew stepped forward. “Hit me. You’ve been wanting to for years.”

It nearly happened. Bill could have slugged him as they stood there, but what would it have gained? Nothing—just more ill-sentiment and distrust. He’d keep his head, and hold back his anger. “You go to Greeley, you’re done.”

“I will remember that.”

“We’re setting off shortly. Be in your place.”

“Yes, boss. Right away, boss. Not whistling now, are you?”

Time moved on, as it tended to. The sun set, the moon rose, the sun rose, over and over. Three days went by, calm and quiet. The drive continued north toward Abilene. As they crossed the grasses which grew less green as they made their way farther into the plains, Bill rode in front of the herd. When he wasn’t talking to Jess about routes and the fear of a storm coming upon them, he let his mind return to the woman who was at the forefront of nearly all his thoughts.

He had loved a woman once before. Not that he loved Emma. Yet. But the beginnings of something resembling love stirred in his gut. He’d felt them the day she’d told him her name, and they grew little by little, like a flower, as she revealed more of herself. She was from Virginia, she was an eager lover, she felt comfortable enough with him to share her body and sleep beside him, she made good pies, and he’d never tasted anything as delicious as her lips.

What more was there? When she was near him, he was happier than when she wasn’t.

No one knew, but he’d felt that way before. Four years earlier, a bright-eyed woman from a nearby town, which neighbored the ranch, had caught his attention, and they’d become friends. Greta. Lovely Greta and her sweet smile and her delicate silliness. She’d loved romantic novels and ribbons and lace, and had been well-regarded for both her kind nature and her needlepoint.

Bill had nearly lost his mind with love for her.

But he’d also been a different man back then. Like his brothers, he’d been rowdy, prone to drinking too much and brawling when it wasn’t necessary. The very idea of casting such a life aside to become a husband and father had seemed like crazy talk. So he’d kept on the way he was. He kept flirting, and she’d flirted right back.

She’d kissed him once out behind her barn. A tiny thing, she’d barely come up to his shoulders. He’d had to bend down to return her gesture, and she’d been stretched up on tiptoe.

That night, he’d gone with the boys and gotten drunk again.

And the next morning, he’d caught word that she was engaged to another man. A man he knew she felt no real warm affection for. She’d burned for him the same way he’d burned for her, and he’d been stupid. He stayed stupid, and Greta had married the man, all the while never taking her eyes off Bill, as if daring him to make a stand for her.

Then she’d gotten the fever, and died, leaving her husband a widow and Bill a mess. He’d drank more, and woke up one morning lying in the dirt by her still-fresh grave.

Greta would have wanted better for him.

She’d expected better.

Ever since that day, he’d vowed to do better.

And now, with Emma so close to him, it felt like he had a chance to right a wrong from long ago. A woman he burned for burned for him right back, and he wouldn’t step aside, nor turn a blind eye. He would kiss her any time she wanted to be kissed, go wherever she needed or wanted him to—be it Cricket Bend, the ends of the earth, or heaven or hell.

“Heads up,” Saul called as he passed Bill riding back to the wagon. “Pa and Appie are having it out.”

It was never a good sign when Appie and his Pa were face to face, talking animatedly about something. As Bill rode up for the mid-day break, he smiled at the sight of Emma happy to see him, but his smile faded as his Pa stormed off, mounting his horse and riding away, and Appie scowled after him.

“Your pa won’t listen to reason,” Appie complained.

“He rarely does.” Andrew smirked.

Bill gave him a silencing look. “What’s he doing now?”

Appie sighed like a man fighting a battle he’d fought before. “I told him the trail around the pass was easier, but no. He wants to go through it, so through it we’re going.”

“The pass?” Bill asked. “Why would we do that?”

Appie looked up to the heavens. “Thank you. Glad one man around here has some sense.”

“What’s the pass?” Emma asked.

“There’s a range of hills ahead,” Bill explained. “We usually cut to the east and avoid them by taking a flatter trail. It adds a day or two, but it’s safe passage. The pass through the hills is rocky, and it’s hard at night because the moon is blocked a good deal of the time.”

“So, it’s a bad idea.” Emma nodded.

“A very bad idea.”

“Then why does your pa want to do it?”

“Hell if I know. Andrew, get the others.”

The McKenzie boys gathered a little while later, off away from the group. The other hands knew something was up, but most were experienced enough trail riders to know that sometimes things were none of their business. Pete and Jess arrived first, and Saul followed a few minutes later once he’d settled the horses. Straggling to the group last, of course, was Andrew.

“Pa wants to go through the pass,” Bill sighed. “Appie says there ain’t no talking him out of it.”

“That’s the most dangerous way, by far,” Pete argued.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Bill answered. “But he’s set on it, says it’ll save a few days.”

“But how many head will we lose?” Jess asked.

“I’ll try and talk to Pa,” Bill promised. “But you know as well as I do that he won’t listen.”

“Once we get through—provided we get through—you taking off?” Pete asked. “You heading to Cricket Bend?”

Bill nodded. “It’s where she needs to go. And it’s not like any of you can go in my place. Jess’ll be in charge while I’m gone.”

“Ma’d like her.” Pete laughed a little. “Shame she’ll be long gone by the time we get home. I know Pa’s smarting over having her here, but it’s nice to see a pretty face. Other than Andrew’s, of course.”

“Shut up.” Andrew pushed his hat back and took a drink from a flask.

“Ollie’s sweet as cake on her.” Jess smiled. “Blushes scarlet whenever she walks by. He’s hardly the only one.”

Jealousy surged through Bill, which was something he hadn’t expected. “Not a man so much as touches her,” he ordered. “Understood?”

The boys all looked at each other. Even Andrew made the effort to move his hat aside so he could take in the serious expression on Bill’s face. Bill knew he’d gone past the point of keeping his feelings a secret. The boys wouldn’t let up, now that they had an inkling of what was going on.

“Understood, boss.” Jess held up his hands. “If you like her, just say the word and she’s off limits.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“Like hell it ain’t.” Jess laughed and shook his head. “We ain’t mad at you, Bill. Hell, if any of us deserves to catch a woman like her, it’s you. You know, you actually smile when she’s around.”

“’Cause she makes you roughnecks remember your manners.”

Jess whistled. The note rang for a long time, until his breath ran out.

“Big brother,” he said with a smirk. “You’re worse off than I thought. I dare say that, for the first time in your life, you’re in love.”

Knowing there’d be no sense in arguing, Bill dropped his eyes. “Not the first time.” He saw Jess’s confusion, but didn’t say any more than that.

“You’re talking about Greta,” Andrew stated. All the men looked at Andrew, who was never one to care about anyone’s life but his own. That he was the first to figure it out struck Bill as odd. But Andrew just shrugged. “Shoot, you made doe eyes at her for nearly a year. I’m not blind.”

Jess looked back at Bill. “You should have said something.”

“Wasn’t much to say.” Bill remembered her, every second spent doing so threatening to knock him to the ground. “She turned down all those suitors for so long because she was waitin’ on me. I was hell-bent on drinking myself into an early grave. Then she got tired of waiting on me, and married Howard. Then she died. And that was that.” He looked at his brothers, a steely determination growing in his gut. “I waited, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t mean to make a mistake like that again.”

Five pairs of eyes looked toward the camp, where Emma was standing in the back of the wagon handing items down to Appie. As they watched, she laughed, and her head fell back. Her laugh was genuine and from the heart, and Bill could have burst at the sight of her sincere joy.

Sure, they were from different worlds. But they could still find a way to be together, forever. Couldn’t they?

“Ma’d like her,” Saul said.

Bill looked at his youngest living brother, and knew he was right. Maureen McKenzie would surely adore Emma, a woman so like her they could have been blood relatives. The spitfire nature, the occasionally foul mouth, and the never-say-die spirit ran deep in both women. Josiah and Maureen fought hard when they’d fought, but beneath it was a love so deep it’d take a mountain range and a forest fire to keep them apart. Looking at Emma in the light of the sunset, Bill knew he’d found a woman he’d risk life and property to keep.

“What are you sitting with us for?” Pete asked. “We’re going through the damn pass, and there ain’t a thing we can do to change Pa’s mind. So, what are you waiting for, an invitation? You both might die in that damn canyon. If you love her, go get her right now and tell her.”