Authors: The Lone Texan
Jodi Thomas (36 page)
“You know, Drum, I think I’m finally getting used to you being around.” Much as he didn’t care for being just her friend, she trusted him.
“Good,” he answered as if he wasn’t really listening. “It’s about time.”
She rose and propped her elbow on his chest. “Despite all the ways you irritate me, there are two things about you that I can’t figure out. First, why you insist we’re made for each other, and second why, of all the men in the world, you’re the only one who knows how to make me feel so alive inside.”
He circled her shoulders and tugged her down. “Let’s talk about the second one first.” He laughed as he lowered his mouth. “Then maybe you’ll figure out the first on your own.”
She felt the now-familiar bolt of pleasure and welcomed it. His kiss was soft and tender until she opened her mouth, then they both felt the fire. Tonight there was no one around to walk in or to hear them. Freedom was a drug they shared.
He pushed her on her back. His hands moved over her as his kiss made her mindless. When he unbuttoned her blouse, she struggled as if to pull away, but he didn’t break the kiss, and his loving strokes continued over her, asking more than insisting that she come with him on this journey.
When she pushed again, he moved an inch away. “Come along with me tonight,” he whispered. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Trust me.”
She relaxed, realizing she did trust him and far, far more. He might never say the words she wanted to hear, but she knew he felt them.
He finished opening her blouse and then her camisole.
As his hand crossed over her bare flesh, she jerked again, only this time in pleasure. She wanted his caress, needed it. She felt as if she’d lived through a long winter, and his touch brought the spring.
He moved down her body, exploring her every curve, tasting her skin as if she were a priceless gift he was unwrapping.
Sage stretched and moaned as he removed her clothes until his hands slid over her skin without barrier. When she thought she could go no higher, he shifted, opening her legs as his exploration and his kisses moved lower.
Sage gulped for breath. “Where did you learn to do that?” she whispered as waves of passion rolled over her.
“Lessons,” he whispered, too busy to say more.
Sage was beyond forming words. All she could do was feel. Tiny rivers tingled through her body, joining at the core to form a raging river washing all thought away and leaving only passion cutting deeply into her soul.
All she wanted to do was beg him to never stop. She’d kissed a few men, been touched by two, a tentative brush atop her clothing, but nothing like this. Drum was bold and attentive. When she moaned in pleasure, he gave her what she wanted: more.
When he brought her to climax, Sage cried out and shook with pleasure. Her heart pounded. Her breath came in rapid gulps. Her mind exploded, with every part of her body sending messages all at once. Nothing had prepared her for the joy. She was riding high across the stars.
He sat up and lifted her onto his lap, cuddling her to him as she jerked in the aftershock of a passion she never dreamed existed.
When she finally returned to sanity, he was still holding her, stroking her, loving her. His hands pushed her hair back from her face so the cool night air moved over her hot flesh.
“I never felt . . .” She wasn’t sure how to put it into words.
“I know,” he whispered against her ear. “I knew you’d like it. You’ll feel even more next time. You’ll climb higher.”
She knew about sex. She’d been raised on a ranch. But she’d never guessed this kind of passion could come with it. “Any higher, and the fall will kill me.” She laughed.
He nibbled on her throat. “I’ll be there to catch you, honey.”
He wrapped the ends of the blanket around her and lay behind her while the fire burned a few feet in front of her. When his arm circled over her, she noticed he was still fully dressed.
“Drum,” she asked. “Why didn’t you try to take your pleasure?” She knew she wouldn’t have stopped him if he had.
“Believe me, Sage, feeling you was very pleasant, but I promised I’d only bed you when you came to me. Once you come to me without being coached by even one kiss, you’ll be mine forever, and I swear I’ll never let you go.”
She could feel his erection pressing against her hips and knew there was nothing physically wrong with the man who held her. He wanted her, he’d always wanted her, but he wanted all of her, and she wasn’t willing to give herself into another’s trust so completely. She’d fought too long and hard for her independence.
“Drum, I don’t want to love—”
“Hush,” he whispered. “Don’t think about it. Just rest for a while. If you go to sleep, I’ll wake you in an hour and ask what you dreamed.”
CHAPTER 38
T
HANKSGIVING MORNING, BONNIE WENT ABOUT HER work like it was a regular day. There had been no holidays in her life for years. She made sure all the rooms were ready if needed, then she sat at her desk by the window and wrote out a list of supplies she planned to order from Austin.
HANKSGIVING MORNING, BONNIE WENT ABOUT HER work like it was a regular day. There had been no holidays in her life for years. She made sure all the rooms were ready if needed, then she sat at her desk by the window and wrote out a list of supplies she planned to order from Austin.
She told herself if she acted as if nothing were amiss, then nothing would be. Yet no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Most of the time she forced herself not to look out the window, but when she did, she saw nothing, only winter-dry pasture, a half-finished barn still in need of doors, and an empty corral.
If it was a man from the outlaw camp come to fetch Sage for Count Hanover, she’d die before she told him where Sage was, which would mean, of course, that they’d kill her. If it hadn’t been for her cowboy, they would have already finished the job at Shelley’s gambling house, so Bonnie figured she was on borrowed time already.
There was also the slim possibility that someone could be out in the trees watching the house, hoping to get a shot at the boys. After all, raiders had already tried to kill them once. Will still talked about the bad men who killed his father, and Andy had nightmares he wouldn’t talk about. If those men found the boys, they’d shoot her if she tried to stop them.
Bullet the cat wrapped around her leg, and Bonnie voiced her worries. “It’s little comfort knowing no one is out to murder me.”
She picked up her teacup and went to the kitchen. The feeling of being watched went with her. Sage had ordered tall windows in every room. She wanted the light, but today the windows only made Bonnie feel exposed and alone. Though she spoke to several people in town, none had become friends. No one would visit her today.
By noon the wind blew in strong from the north, howling and rattling the house almost as if someone were trying to break in. Bonnie checked all the locks but felt no safer. As the day aged, clouds moved in, dark and brooding. She picked up the rifle Sage mounted over the fireplace in the kitchen and walked onto the front porch.
The cold wind fought to push her back, but she stood her ground. She could see smoke coming out of several chimneys in town. It wasn’t all that far, she told herself. She could run for help if trouble came or fire a warning shot. But the only trouble was a sense of being watched, and she’d feel like a fool for throwing a fit over that.
She marched inside, locked the door, and stormed down the hallway to the back of the house. Once outside, she sat on the rocking chair Daniel or Drummond sometimes used and laid the rifle over her lap. She’d deal with this fear as she’d always dealt with fear . . . alone.
Brooding clouds almost blocked the view of the hills, but she stared out, ready to face whatever trouble came. When her parents died, she’d been afraid to go more than a few blocks from her house. They’d always told her such stories of the evil that would find her unless she stayed inside. After they died, she realized what a cripple they tried to make her, and she forced herself to walk out into the world.
Bonnie closed her eyes and fought the panic. Her parents had also said her older brother would take care of her. That was why they left him all the money and her the house. He hadn’t been home but a few times in years. He claimed the drafty old place made him sick. Her father grew too feeble to fix anything, and her mother wouldn’t spend the money. By the time they died, nothing worked in the house, and mold grew over the basement walls. Her brother was angry that the deed to the house was in her name and swore he wouldn’t give her a dime until she signed it over. What good was the house without any money to run it?
Bonnie straightened, not allowing one tear to fall. She’d been so afraid, but she’d walked to the hospital where her parents had often been treated. The nurses had always been kind to her, and they were again. She’d thought if she worked as a nurse, she’d be able to make enough money to keep the house. And she had. The worthless property was still in her name.
Staring into the stormy sky, she took a deep breath and told herself that she would survive. Whatever was out there, whoever threatened, she would survive. She’d save her salary until the day came that she was too old to work, then she’d go back to Boston and rebuild a cottage on the land where her house now stood.
The last bit of sunlight played off a movement coming from the trees. For a moment she thought it no more than a trick of the light, then she saw him coming toward the house: a tall man, leading his horse. A cowboy.
His head was down to the wind. She couldn’t see his face. He wore a gun strapped to his leg, but so did many of the men she’d seen. She stood and waited, the rifle at the ready, even though she wasn’t sure she’d remember how to fire it.
When he reached the steps of the porch, he looked up at her.
Bonnie stared at
her
cowboy. A beard an inch long covered his jaw and chin, and he looked like he’d aged since she’d seen him, but he was her cowboy. His brother had called him Bradford.
her
cowboy. A beard an inch long covered his jaw and chin, and he looked like he’d aged since she’d seen him, but he was her cowboy. His brother had called him Bradford.
“Evening, Pretty Lady,” he said in a low tone without moving closer or smiling. “It’s good to rest my eyes on you again.”
Bonnie couldn’t have answered if her life depended on it. In the nights she’d spent thinking of their time together, he’d become more dream than real.
He pulled off his worn hat and stared at her. “I had quite a time finding you. The Rangers down in Galveston considered jailing me for even asking about you.”
She still couldn’t think of anything to say.
He twisted his hat in his big hands. After several seconds, he frowned. “You got a right to shoot me. I don’t know much about women, but I know I was your first, and I did kidnap you. So, if you’re planning to use that rifle, go ahead, ’cause I’m not leaving till I have my say.”
“Why?” She finally found one word.
Bonnie saw the hurt in his eyes. “You know, I had this crazy feeling you might be glad to see me. That one night was the best of my life, but I guess you’d see it from different eyes. I just wanted to see you again and to say I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble.”
“You’ve been watching me.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t have bothered you if I thought you were involved with someone. I even thought the boys might be your responsibility, and you wouldn’t want me showing up in front of them. Then I worried over you being sweet on one of them young Rangers who hang around here.”
He finally looked straight at her and didn’t turn away. “When everyone left yesterday, I knew you were like me . . . alone.”
Bonnie didn’t know what to do. She’d never had a man come to the house, or flirt with her, or even talk to her. Bradford wasn’t flirting with her now. It appeared that he traveled halfway across Texas just to look at her.
He wasn’t any more skilled than she at conversation. He beat his leg a few times with his hat and didn’t seem to notice the cold. She had a feeling he’d stand out here all night if she didn’t do or say something.
She lowered the rifle. “You want to come in for a cup of coffee?”
“I’d like that.” He nodded once as if they’d settled on the makings of a plan. “Mind if I put my horse in the barn? It looks like bad weather is coming in.”
“All right.” She backed to the door. “I’ll put a fresh pot on to boil.”
When he turned toward the barn, she went inside. For a time, she just leaned against the door and tried to think, then she crossed to the fireplace, replaced the rifle, and started a fire. By the time she heard him scraping his boots on the scraper by the kitchen door, she’d lit the lamps and had the coffee ready.
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