In a Cowboy’s Arms (37 page)

Later. She’d find the right time to tell him later when they were alone.

Dade was convinced he’d been lied to about Barton when day turned to night and he still hadn’t found anyone in Las Animas who’d heard of him. He wouldn’t be surprised if the old man at the stockyards had sent him on a wild goose chase out of spite.

The death of Mrs. Jarrett’s daughter had soured her on life. But he’d believed the old-timer in Dodge City when he’d told Dade about Barton. Now he wasn’t sure.

He’d started asking if anyone knew the Texan shortly after he and Maggie ate dinner in the hotel restaurant. With her safely tucked away in the room resting, he tramped the streets asking damned near everyone he passed if they knew Barton.

So far none had.

He was about to give up for the day and head back to the hotel and Maggie when a wrangler of advanced age who’d been leaning against the corner of the dry goods store straightened as Dade approached. Something about the man triggered a warning in him.

That feeling turned to alarm when the man stepped in his path. “You still looking for Barton?”

“I am,” Dade said. “You know where I can find him?”

“Yep. Got him a spread near the Purgatoire River, not far from La Junta, which is why folks around here don’t much know him.”

“But you do,” Dade said, not entirely convinced.

“Worked for Barton for ten years back in the day when money could be made rounding up mustangs,” the wrangler said. “If you want, I can draw you a map showing you how to get there.”

Dade was torn. If he’d have found just one other person who’d known Barton, he’d have believed this man.

He had doubts, but not enough of them to refuse a map to the ranch. “I’d be mighty grateful for directions. What’s the name of his spread?”

“Circle DB,” the wrangler said as he thumbed a cigarette paper from a pack. “Named it after his daughter.”

Daisy Barton? Dade went hot and cold inside watching the wrangler sketch a crude map with the stub of a pencil, willing this to be the time he finally found his sister.

“How big a place is it?” Dade asked, taking the map and studying the faint lines and squiggles.

“Not much to talk about now. Barton ran cattle on thousands of acres, but only held title to a squatter’s portion.”

That would explain why the wrangler didn’t work for Barton anymore. His ranch, cattle, and hired hands had been severely reduced. He just hoped the place hadn’t fallen into squalor.

“Much obliged for the map,” Dade said, and tossed the man two bits.

It wasn’t much by any standards. But he had to watch his pennies after splurging on the train ride.

He crossed the alley and passed an adobe building that turned a rich brown in the setting sun. The shop next to it was a modern glass-front style that housed an assay office and an attorney.

Dade glanced back at the wrangler, but he was long gone. He poked his head inside the office door to find the clerk donning his bowler hat, likely about to leave for the day.

“You ever hear of a Circle DB ranch down around the Purgatoire River?” Dade asked.

The clerk mumbled the name over and over. “Sure. Was a time when they ran more cattle than anyone else in these parts.”

“Thanks for your time.”

Dade picked up his pace, anxious to get back to the hotel and tell Maggie the good news. They’d head out tomorrow morning, but tonight would be theirs to savor.

She was sitting by the window when he walked into their room. For a moment he just drank in the sight of her. She was on his mind more times than not. She was in his heart too. How was he going to be able to let her go?

He locked the door before crossing to her. “The ranch is half a day’s ride from here.”

She met him halfway, her arms open and her smile welcoming. “I’m going with you.”

He drew her into his arms and kissed her, drinking in her passion like a man parched for water. Refusing her never crossed his mind.

As long as they were together, she was his. He damn sure didn’t want to think beyond that point right now.

The guilt that had been nagging at Maggie drifted from her mind as Dade’s hands made bold sweeps up and down her body. She never knew a caress could bring every nerve in her body to life. She hadn’t believed that touching a man could give her so much pleasure.

But then she’d never met a man like Dade before.

She glided her palms up his muscled arms and curved her fingers over his shoulders, bowing into him. “Mmm.”

“That’s it.” As she hoped he’d do, his arms came around her and held her tight. “Move with me.”

The unease and hesitation that she’d honed from a young age to keep people from getting too close to her drifted away, replaced by a sense of safety that she’d only felt with him. Yes, he’d vowed to keep her safe, but his protectiveness went beyond duty.

In his arms she not only felt protected, she felt wanted. She felt loved, and that was something she’d never experienced before.

Nobody had ever loved Margaret Ann Sutten. At least nobody that she could remember.

She sensed each rise and fall and matched him.

Her clothes fell away slowly with him pausing to kiss the skin he’d bared. He ripped his clothes off quickly, which was fine by her because she longed to run her hands over his skin, marveling at the muscles that flexed at her touch.

He kissed her so deeply her head reeled and her knees went weak. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have crumbled at his feet.

She realized she trusted him to give her pleasure too, and oh, how he could pleasure her. He rocked against her in a slow, sultry tempo that she fell into naturally. She let her head loll back as sensation after sensation pounded through her, thinking she was decadent for letting him do the seducing while she enjoyed every second of the sensual adoration.

“That’s it, Maggie mine,” he said, backing to the bed.

She smiled against his lips, touched by the endearment, touched by his patience in this.

Yes, he might not love her with his heart, but he acted as if he cherished her as a lover. He made the moment special. Made her feel special.

They fell onto the bed with her on top of him, straddling his lean hips. His caresses grew bolder and more frenzied, but then so were the odd sounds bubbling up from her.

“You’re ready,” he said, his finger slipping into her.

Desire rippled through her in hot waves. She pressed against him on a hum of pleasure. “For you. Only for you.”

He groaned, shifting again as she came down on him. She threw her head back as she took him into her, holding him there as tightly as he’d held her against him.

“Yes,” he groaned, grasping her hips and guiding her through this new way to love him.

She rode him hard, moving with him yet feeling bold and in charge. She wasn’t naïve about lovemaking now. She realized that each time when she trembled and reached for that final thrum of pleasure, he’d withdrawn from her. She understood he did it to guard against pregnancy.

But to her it smacked of rejection. Just when they were as close as a man and woman could be, he’d denied her that final intimacy.

No more. This time she wanted all of him. This time she wouldn’t be denied. This time she was willing to do anything to achieve that goal.

They strained together, their bodies slick with sweat. She felt the change in his rhythm, the urgency in his touch. Desire began splintering off in brilliant strokes that left every nerve throbbing, every muscle quivering with the force that was bearing down on them locked together.

“Stay with me,” she said, clinging to him.

“Maggie mine,” he groaned, teeth clenched as he tried to hold back what she wanted most.

“Please,” she said, her legs locked on his hips and her eyes begging him to give her this. “Please.”

She tightened around him, and streaks of energy exploded within her. She heard his groan. Felt him plunge deeper into her. Marveled at the hot seed spurting into her that chased away the chill that had persisted in tormenting her.

Before the last tremors shook his big body, she collapsed upon him. She thrilled at the strong heart pounding beneath her ear. She gloried in the knowledge that this moment sang of the freedom she’d been denied all her life.

“We took a helluva risk then,” he said.

“I know, but some things in life are worth the risk.” With her pleasure ebbing, guilt nipped at her again.

Tell him. Tell him now while he’d mellowed. Tell him before he finds out on his own.

“I sent Whit Ramsey a telegram today.”

Eyes that had been drowsy with desire sharpened. “What?”

She swallowed the trepidation stealing over her, leaving her cold and trembling. “I’m tired of running. I want a normal life. I want him to leave me be.”

“And you think he’s going to back off just because you begged him to?”

“Maybe,” she said, and hated the childish note that crept into her voice. “Whit won’t want me if there’s a chance I could be carrying another man’s child.”

She didn’t think his eyes could get any harder or darker, but she was wrong. “You used me to turn Ramsey against you?”

“Yes, but I wanted to make love with you, too. I wanted to feel closer to you. Why can’t you understand?”

He rolled away from her and gave her his back. “Go to sleep, Maggie. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

She curled in a ball and refused to cry. Had she gotten what she wanted only to lose the man she loved?

After four hours in the saddle, Dade could see why nobody in Las Animas knew about Barton. He’d followed the river to where the grassland began to give way to deep arroyos.

If the old wrangler had drawn this map correctly, then they were less than five miles from the Circle DB ranch. He stood in the saddle and took another long careful look at the area.

He saw nothing that would alert him that they were being followed. They were alone. Just him and Maggie and thousands of acres of waist-deep grasslands.

Cattle would get mighty damned fat off this prairie grass. Yet he hadn’t seen evidence of a cow in twenty miles or so.

The old wrangler said Barton had fallen on hard times. Shit, had he nearly lost the ranch? Were they hard-scrap farmers just trying to hold on to what they had?

“We’re almost there,” he said. “You need to take a rest?”

She shook her head, still sitting straight in the saddle and still not meeting his eyes. “I’m fine.”

That was bullshit. She might be tolerating the ride, but she wasn’t fine at all.

They’d had the best damned sex he’d ever had in his life, then she had fessed up what she’d done and ruined it all. Fine time for her to decide to bait the bear.

Not that he blamed her for standing her ground. What annoyed him was that she’d made the decision on her own. She’d cut him out, not even bothering to get his opinion.

“Dade? Did you hear that?” she asked.

He slammed the door on those musings and forced his attention to the here and now. Bells. He heard the distinct clang of a dinner bell.

“What is it?” she asked.

He smiled at his pretty orphan who had all the smarts of a rich girl and none of the glory. “That’s the dinner bell on the nearest ranch. Let’s head that way.”

He held to an easy canter when every nerve in his body screamed at him to ride like thunder to the Circle DB. He damn sure knew better.

Riding onto a spread like that could get him shot. But the main reason was Maggie. He wasn’t about to make her life hell so he’d get to the ranch a few minutes sooner.

They topped a rise, and he reined up as the ranch came into view. It was worse than he’d thought.

There were plenty of pens and corrals, but he only saw a handful of stock. The outbuildings were frame and in serious need of repair.

The adobe house sat low to the ground and blended into the landscape. It looked deserted, yet the dinner bell continued to clang–a discordant sound that echoed for miles and chafed his nerves raw.

“If this is a cattle ranch, where are the cattle?” Maggie asked.

Damned if he knew. “The wrangler I talked to said that Barton had fallen on hard times.”

“Poor Daisy.”

He didn’t want to think how she’d been living. Without a word, he heeled his mount to head out, knowing Maggie’s and the packhorse would follow.

The place didn’t look any more welcoming up close. But the pair of horses in the corral looked well tended. They looked out of place to boot.

He dismounted, his thoughts on his sister. As soon as his boots hit the ground he thought better of it. But Maggie–his sweet Maggie–chose this time to get off her little black mare on her own.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

Dade stepped between the two horses and hemmed her between them. Not ideal cover, but it was the best he could do.

“Damned if I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She rested one small hand on his back, her fingers flexing like she wanted to crawl under his skin. He wished to hell he could burrow into a hole and drag her in with him.

The unmistakable click of a trigger being hammered back broke the silence. Sonofabitch–he’d walked into a trap.

“Nice of you to bring her to me,” came a voice that scorched his soul like hot coals.

Dade yanked Maggie in front of him and pulled leather as he whirled. But the restive horses’ rumps bumped together and blocked his view of and aim at Allis Carson.

That didn’t stop the bounty hunter. He fired two shots.

Dade’s gelding screamed and took off. Maggie’s mare followed at a gallop. Dade grabbed Maggie’s hand and ran to the house, his revolver barking lead to give them a minute. But Carson had taken cover behind a dilapidated buckboard and just kept firing.

Dade yanked on the door, but it was locked. Panic welled inside him as he threw his shoulder against the panel. Once. Twice. It shuddered but held tight.

“Kiss your ass good-bye, lawman,” Carson said.

Dade pushed Maggie behind him as he spun around and stared down the barrel of Allis Carson’s six-shooter. Anger and regret collided in a heartbeat.

He was trapped. Dade could get off one shot, but he’d likely take a bullet too.