Lone Star 05 (15 page)

That did the trick. The kid didn't say another word, keeping a sullen, seething silence. They rode on for another two hours. It was nearly dawn before Scott signaled for them to pull up. They had reached a deep canyon and heard, in the near distance, the sound of rushing water—the river.

“We'll rest here for an hour, make some coffee and have a bite to eat. I'll scout ahead a ways. Hill, you and Ki watch while I'm gone. I won't be long.” The marshal reined his horse around and rode off, soon vanishing behind a tall outcropping that jutted out over the trail.

The party dismounted at a fairly flat plateau that had been scooped out of the hills. Jessie made a small fire and filled a blackened pot with coffee and water, setting it over the flame to boil. Then she sliced some hard bacon and put it in a pan to fry. Soon the smell of their primitive meal filled the hollow.

Ki tended to Thomas Starbuck, loosening the rope that bound him to the horse. The prisoner slipped free, landing unsteadily on his feet. His hands were still cuffed behind his back. A shock of wild brown hair fell over his face, and he whipped his head back to free his vision.

“Can't you take these damned things off my hands?” he muttered, tugging at the handcuffs. “They're scraping the shit out of my wrists.”

Jessie said to Ki, “What do you think? Can we let him rest and have a cup of coffee? I don't think he'll go anywhere.”

“Lady's right,” Thomas Starbuck put in. “Where the hell can I go?” He grinned ingratiatingly.

Ki nodded, pulling the key from his pocket and unlocking the handcuffs. He slipped them through his belt, next to his knife. He looked over at Jessie as if to say.
You've got what you want, but I think we ought to keep him hogtied—I don't trust him an inch.

When the coffee had boiled, Jessie poured a cup for Thad and a cup for the prisoner. Both men drank the scalding, inky liquid in great gulps. Jessie let hers cool before sipping it carefully.

“First real coffee I've had in weeks,” Starbuck commented with satisfaction. “Mighty fine,
sister.”

Thad scowled at the kid. “Watch your mouth, boy. You insult the lady again—”

Starbuck looked wounded. “Golly, mister, all I said was, it's a good cup of coffee.”

“I know what you said, and I know what you meant. Best just keep your mouth shut and we'll all get along fine.”

“I didn't ask you to bust me out!” the young man declared, his nostrils flaring in heated resentment. “I was going to go with Mueller and his boys—and you had to ruin it for me.”

“You wouldn't have lasted three days with Mueller,” said Thad. “Be grateful for what you've got—your stinking life.”

Seeing her chance, Jessie asked the kid, “Just how well do you know Mueller, Thomas? Is he a good friend of yours?”

“He‘s—” The young killer realized what she was after. “I ain't talking. You'll find out soon enough.” He fell into a brooding silence, his eyes locked on her. A cloud fell over his face, and he seemed to age and ripen—he took on the look of the half-crazy killer that his reputation painted him to be.

They all saw the change come over him, felt the chill of his stare. For Jessie, it was enough to confirm at least one suspicion: the kid was somehow tied in with Mueller. But a big question remained. What was the cartel after this time? Mueller hadn't tried to kill her in Skyler when he could have, easily. And there wasn't anything in Skyler itself, any mineral wealth or the like, that the cartel would be after—or was there? Something inside her assured her that she would find the answer back in Provo. But if the solution lay in that town, why had Mueller—or whoever—engineered her presence in Skyler with the kid's lies? It just didn't make sense. Not yet, anyhow.

Jessie gratefully felt the first warmth of the new day's sun on her cheek, driving away the chill of the long night. As she sipped her hot coffee, she tried to drive exhaustion out of her mind and her weary limbs. They had a long, hard way to go yet before they reached Provo.

Thomas Starbuck finished his coffee and stood sulking, casting suspicious glances from Thad to Ki to Jessie. His dirty clothes hung loosely on his thin frame, evidence that he hadn't eaten a decent meal in a long time. When Jessie offered him some bacon, he greedily gulped the meat down. He held his empty cup out for more coffee, which she poured, not looking into this eyes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled almost inaudibly—the first polite words they'd heard from his lips.

Thad sat down beside Jessie, near the fire. He munched on a crisp hunk of bacon. He wanted to reach out and take her in his arms and comfort her. This was a rough trial for her, with a hell of a lot more hard times to come before she next slept in a feather bed. Of course, she'd accepted that before she set out to find the kid. He wished he could save her from the danger he feared; if she was killed, he didn't know what he'd do.

Scott came back, dismounting wearily and stretching his aching muscles. “Looks clear enough ahead,” he announced. “Any of that coffee left for an old man?”

Jessie brightened, pouring the federal lawman a cup of the steaming black stuff. “Are we going to follow the river from here?” she asked.

“I figure that's the safest course, and the shortest. Though that don't give us much protection—just in case we meet up with anyone from Skyler on our backtrail. Which, to my way of thinking, is damn likely.”

Thad, puffing on another cheroot, said, “They're probably already on their way.”

Ulysses Scott nodded. “That's why we can't sit here jawing about it. Like I said, we'll follow the river out of here. That'll take us almost due west. I figure to stick to that course at least until past noon. We'll decide then just when to circle back into the hills. By nightfall we ought to find a camp that can be defended. If they come, they'll come tonight or tomorrow morning. And if we can fight them off, Provo's just another day's ride. A hard day's ride.”

“That's a lotta ifs.”

The lawman whirled to see the prisoner standing behind him, his hands free. “What in tarnation is that boy doing roaming around here? He should be tied to his horse at all times!”

Ki said, “He'll do no harm. I'm watching him every minute. One false move and he'll pay for it with much pain.”

Scott removed his old hat, letting the slight morning breeze wash over his head. Sweat and grime were caked black on his furrowed forehead. “Well, when we ride, he's to be handcuffed. It's not that I don't believe you, Mr. Ki, but I don't trust the damn kid.”

“He won't try anything, Marshal,” Jessie said, trying to reassure herself as well as the lawman.

“Don't you believe it, miss,” Scott replied. “I've seen enough like him before. He'll slit your throat as soon as say good day. I don't want to take no chances before Provo. Then we'll let the law there worry about him.”

Jessie looked at Thomas Starbuck, who stood with his chin outthrust defiantly, his eyes on the deputy U.S. marshal. She thought of her father as the kid threw back his shoulders and held his legs apart in the same stubborn way Alex Starbuck had. When would she be able to prove for certain that the boy killer was lying? And when would she find out the
why
of it?

“Very well, Marshal Scott,” she relented. “When we ride, he'll wear the cuffs. And tonight we'll be sure he's tied securely. You're right—we can't take any chances with him.”

The kid spat into the dirt, his eyes silently hateful, promising revenge.

 

 

As Scott had promised, it was a long, grueling day. They rode hard until well past nightfall. After a meager hot meal, the last they'd get before they reached Provo, Scott and Ki took the first watch. They left the kid handcuffed and he dozed off near the fire. Thad and Jessie, needing some time alone, found a spot not far from the camp but well away from the others.

“Thad,” she said, “I wonder how I'll ever prove for sure that Thomas isn't my brother.”

“I don't know, Jessie, but I know for sure he's not. His whole story is made up—why, I can't even guess, except maybe he wants to get hold of some of your money. Other than that ...” He shrugged and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“You're convinced, then, that he's lying?”

“Yes.” Thad wanted to say more, but he didn't. He cupped her chin in his rough hand. “He's no good.” He kissed her demandingly. Their mouths clung together.

“Damn it, woman,” Thad said as he pulled away from her. He crouched down next to an overhanging rock, taking a long cheroot from his shirt pocket. She sat on the ground beside him, crosslegged, watching him, waiting for him to say what was on his mind.

Thad Hill was a rugged, handsome, confident man—good with a gun and good with a woman. Or at least he had been, up until now. Tonight he felt like a tongue-tied farm boy. Inside, his guts were being tugged this way and that.

“Jessie, I don't want to see you get hurt—ever—by anybody. The kid is bad clear through. I can smell treachery on him. He's a killer. There's no way in hell he's your brother.”

The darkness enveloped them. They could see each other's faces only at the closest range. He came to his knees and tossed away the smoldering cheroot. His arms went around her and he held her tightly.

“Jessie girl, whatever you want to do—wherever you want to take that kid—I'm with you all the way. God, you smell good even after riding all day and night.”

She smiled. “You smell awful,” she teased, biting at his ear. “But I don't care, not tonight.”

Thad crushed her lips against his, exploring with his tongue. Again they melded together, mouth on mouth, kissing violently. He felt her breasts heaving against him; he had to have this woman tonight.

Jessie's arms encircled her lover. She too felt an urgent desire for this man. His strength, his presence, the wildness in him—all these things fueled her need for Thad Hill. And the prospect of a battle at dawn, the possibility that they might be killed ...

“Love me, Thad!” she demanded. And she pulled him over on top of her body.

He tugged at the buttons of her cambric shirt, and one by one they opened. His large hand slipped inside, over the soft skin. Thad found a breast and covered its warm surface tenderly. In his palm he felt the nipple pucker in response to his touch.

“Jessie, darling,” he rasped. He ran his tongue the length of her neck and kissed it repeatedly. He stroked her nipple with his hand.

“Make me feel it, Thad.”

Their lips met yet again. Jessie ran her fingers through his hair. Then her hand traveled down his neck and shoulders to the buttons of his shirt. She returned Thad's favor by freeing him of the garment. Then she put her hand on his wide chest and raked it through the matted hair there, her fingernails lightly scratching his skin.

By this time, Thad was working on her pants. Jessie lifted her hips to let him slip the jeans off around her curved bottom. He quickly replaced them on the ground to give her something to lie on instead of the dirt. Then he gently let her down so that her rounded behind found the smooth denim fabric.

Jessie, meanwhile, nimbly undid the big metal buttons on the man's fly. Unbuckling his belt, she pulled his corduroy pants open. She dug out his shaft and it sprang free like an insistent young tree. Wrapping her fingers around its swollen length, she squeezed it. Then her fingers began kneading it.

“Take it easy, honey,” he gasped. His breath grew ragged as she worked on him. “Slow and easy.” He hoisted himself up over her to give her room to maneuver under him.

Looking down on her, he saw her beautiful face grow pale in the darkness and her eyes glow fiercely. He was determined to give her everything she wanted.

Jessie brought Thad's erect member closer to her face. When it was close enough, she flicked out her tongue at it, like a playful snake. He winced at the darting, devilish sensation. Then Jessie put her lips around the wide tip and caressed it before taking more of him into her mouth. She did it slowly, but soon she had swallowed as much of his length as she could.

Thad groaned. The feeling was magical and coarse at the same time. Her wet teeth and tongue ran along the skin. He arched his back and swallowed a loud howl. God, how much could a man stand! This lovely creature sucking on him, teasing him painfully rigid—it was enough to make his head burst.

She released him then, kissing her way up from his crotch, over his taut stomach and chest. His neck came alive with her hot kisses. And from ear to ear along his jawline, she continued her path until it culminated with a long, hungry, deep kiss on his mouth. She knew she could not get enough of him. She wanted to devour him.

Fighting for his breath now, Thad pulled roughly away. “You told me an old Japanese woman taught you all this stuff?”

“No, not all of it,” Jessie said, lying back on the earth. “Myobu is a fine teacher, but I figured some things out for myself.” Her soft laughter was like the tinkling of a fine crystal chandelier.

“Well, I won't question you,” he said. “I don't care
where
you learned it.”

“Besides, it's none of your business.”

It was Thad's turn to laugh. “You sure speak your mind, woman. If my pa ever heard you talk like that, his big ears would burn redder than his nose.”

“Your ears felt a bit hot to me,” said Jessie. She clasped her hands around his neck and held him. For a moment their eyes met in the shadows, then she lowered his head to her breasts.

He took one of her stiff, excited nipples in his mouth, swabbing it with his tongue and nibbling with his teeth. She writhed beneath him, humming a deep-throated hymn of pleasure. He tasted the saltiness of her and bit harder.