Loving Katherine (20 page)

“Katherine. Give me your hand.” Reaching to her, he lifted her easily to sit across his lap, and his heels pressed against his mare as they headed for the boat.

“Did you see anyone?” Her words were quiet, her eyes scanning the area they passed.

“No.” One word, spoken abruptly. But his tension was apparent as his arm tightened around her.

“You’re squeezing me.” She wiggled beneath his touch.

“Hold still, Mrs. Devereaux. I’ve got the right to hang on to you. I’ve got a notion we came up lucky this morning. I won’t be so careless next time. You can mark my words.”

“You really think-”

He shook his head, and she felt the movement above her own. “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess. At any rate, I’ll keep a sharp eye out.”

The water was cool, and a faint scum rode the surface, but Roan stepped into the tub with a sigh of contentment. “Get me a bucket of hot water sent up, will you, Kate?” he asked, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the curved edge of the tub.

She eyed him doubtfully. His knees were drawn up and his greater size had raised the water level past his waist. “I don’t know if you have room in there for a bucketful, but I’ll see what I can do.”

There was plenty of room, she found out as she poured the hot water down at the foot end of the short tub a few minutes later. Returning the bucket to the deckhand waiting outside the cabin, she smiled her thanks and closed the door. Roan groaned his pleasure as the water rose to cover most of his chest, bending to allow his arms and hands to loll in the depths.

“I’ll wash my feet in there when you get finished.” Katherine watched from the edge of the bunk, then with a quick movement snatched up the cloth she’d used and approached with soap in hand. “I’ll scrub your back for you,” she offered, kneeling by the tub and sudsing the cloth.

“You’ll make me smell like a damn flower garden.” He grumbled the words in a token act of resistance, but his head
bent and his shoulders hunched as she scrubbed at the long line of his spine. “I’ll give you about fifteen minutes to quit that,” he muttered darkly, enjoying the rough cloth and the strong strokes she employed as she rubbed at his muscled back.

“Sit up and I’ll do your front, too.” Her voice was coaxing and he glanced at her.

“If you think for one minute I’m gonna turn down that offer, you’ve sure got another think comin’,” he told her bluntly. Straightening his spine, he shifted in the short tub, leaning back once more to rest his head on the edge, his chest half-exposed, the rest of him hidden in the clouded water.

“Have at it, lady.” It was a growling invitation and she dropped a quick kiss on his parted lips as her hands dipped into the water and began their chore.

“It’s almost time for dinner, you know,” she teased, her fingers pressing his flesh through the cloth.

“Yeah? Well, they’ll save us some. You’ve got fifteen minutes to get me clean, sweetheart. Think you can manage?”

Her cheeks were rosy as she bent to her task. “I’m new at this.” Her tongue was tucked to one side, just the tip showing between her lips as she concentrated on the territory her hands explored.

His sigh was pure contentment as he tilted his head back farther and his eyes closed, concentrating on the pleasure of her touch. “Ah, but you’re a fast learner, Katie girl. I’ve got faith in you, sweetheart.”

K
atherine’s blue dress gleamed like a jewel amid the dark animals. She was quiet, her murmurs barely audible to the man who watched. As she moved slowly from one to another, her hands and voice paid homage to the mares and yearlings at the stern of the paddle wheeler. The tall black mare drew her attention finally, and she nuzzled her face against the long jaw of the animal.

“You’re probably going to drop a foal next year, baby,” she whispered. Her hands were firm against the dark coat of the mare, fingers pressing, scratching a bit, delivering their message of affection. Ears twitching almost in time with Katherine’s soft crooning, the horse pressed against the woman as if she sought the connection, and relished it.

“Roan’s right, you know. You’re plenty old enough to be bred. You’ve got lots of space to carry a foal. And that big old stud was a dandy, you’ll have to admit.” Katherine chuckled to herself, remembering the virile beauty of the stallion. “Sort of overwhelmed you, didn’t he?”

“Nice bunch of horses you got, Mrs. Devereaux.”

From behind her, the voice was low and rusty, its owner a lengthening shadow against the straw that littered the deck where she stood. Katherine’s breath caught in her throat as a chill made its way down her spine. Her eyes widening, she
watched as the sunlight turned to shade at her feet and the shadow crept closer.

She turned, her hand still curved under the jaw of the horse, intent on facing the intruder. He was close, a couple of yards away, near enough for her to smell the unwashed garments he wore, close enough for her to see the grizzly whiskers covering his dark skin.

“What do you want?” She held her ground, unwilling to give way to the sudden shaft of fear piercing her chest. Where was Roan? He’d stopped to talk to the captain after breakfast. Surely he’d be along any minute.

“Just takin’ a look at those horses of yours, ma’am.” His words were slow, exaggerated, almost as if he would pacify her, calm her apprehension.

It didn’t work. “I don’t want anyone near my animals. Kindly get out of my way.” Katherine was proud of the firm, unwavering tone she’d managed. Chin jutting forward, she waved her hand imperiously, as if she would usher the intruder from her presence.

“My, ain’t you the fancy piece in your new getup.” With a sneer, he stepped a bit closer. “You didn’t look near so ladylike first time I saw you, ma’am. Layin’ there with that man of yours all tucked around you. Still don’t think it was fair that the rest of us didn’t get some of that cuddlin’ you looked to be so good at.”

“Who are you?” Katherine’s words were a frozen whisper as she peered with narrowed eyes at the dirty-faced intruder.

“You owe me, lady,” he snarled. “Reckon I’ll get the pleasure of your company long enough to get me a taste of your—”

“You filthy scum!” Katherine’s mouth curled in disgust and her fingers drew into fists.

“Shut up! Yer too mouthy by a long shot.” He stepped closer, and his big fist moved swiftly to fasten in the front
of her dress, causing the seams to give way with the force of his grip.

“Roan!”

“Won’t do no good to holler for yer man, honey. He’s up top, talkin’ to the captain. Can’t hear you over the engines no way.” His free hand settled with force over her mouth, and he dug his fingers into her cheek.

Katherine’s stomach churned at the smell of his unwashed flesh beneath her nose, and she shuddered as she recognized the press of his knuckles against her breast.
Where are you, Roan?

They’re puttin’ that gangplank down any minute now, lady. And then you and me are takin’ this string of horses to shore, and we’re gonna ride off.” He shook her, his fingers tearing the fine material of her dress. “Got that?”

She shook her head, no easy task with his hand gripping her so tightly, twisting her face with his grimy fingers.

“If he comes a-lookin’ for you, I’ll put a bullet in him.”

The words were enough to still her struggle. Roan wouldn’t be expecting an ambush. Her mind searched frantically. Had he worn his gun this morning? She couldn’t remember…she couldn’t remember! Inhaling through flared nostrils, she swallowed hard against the sour bile roiling up from her stomach.

“That’s better, lady.” His fingers relaxed against her breast, and he shoved her backward till she thumped against the far wall of the stall. He slipped his hand to his side, and a gun gleamed dully in his fist. “Put a bridle on this horse.”

It was an order. She recognized the futility of arguing and reached for the leather straps and bit she’d only recently begun to use with the black mare. Unused to a rider, barely acquainted with a saddle, the horse would never accept his weight—and Katherine knew it. Her hands shook as she lowered the bridle over the gleaming head, the horse shifting nervously as she scented the unease of her owner.

“It’s all right, girl.” Her whisper was meant to reassure, and it did the job. The black mare nickered softly and swished her tail, stretching her neck as she felt the bit against her mouth.

The man nudged Katherine with the barrel of his gun. “Get over there.” He pointed to the next mare, Katherine’s own chestnut beauty. “Bridle that one, too.” His words were harsh, his eyes furtive as he scanned the area.

Yesterday, there had been several passengers around every time Katherine or Roan had come down to check on the animals. This morning, the stern was deserted. Probably everyone was getting ready to go ashore. It would be only a short stay, not long enough to take the animals off the boat to exercise them, Roan had said at breakfast.

Katherine’s hands moved slowly, fitting the bridle over her mare’s ears, snapping it into place with as little speed as she could manage. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the revolver once more, its barrel pointed in her direction. At all costs, she must keep it from aiming at Roan. To that end, she’d cooperate with this outlaw for now.

“Now what?” she asked quietly, holding the reins in one hand, turning back to face the stranger.

“I’ve been followin’ you, Mrs. Devereaux. Picked up your trail just before you got to St. Maria. Been watchin’ you and yer man.”

His whining words of accomplishment rang a bell in her memory. Katherine shook her head, angry at her own blindness. “You were on the wagon yesterday. You’re the one who got away.”

His grin was evil, his teeth discolored and crooked. “Old Cass turned traitor ‘cause of you, lady. Don’t know how you managed it, but you sure got him wrapped around your finger in a hurry, didn’t you.” His mouth drew back in a feral grin. “Too bad I don’t have time to sample some of what you handed out to him. Musta been good to set him against the gang fer you.”

“He was my brother.” She whispered the words. Her face pale in the dim light, she gritted her teeth against the pain of her loss. “He was my brother.” Quick tears washed her eyes. Unwanted, they blurred her vision, and she shook her head to dispel the effect.

“He was a fool.” Ignoring her distress, Sloan grabbed her wrist and, dragging her behind him, moved to where the string of yearlings were gathered against the far side of the boat.

His voice was guttural, rasping against her ear. “Untie these horses and hitch that other mare on with ‘em.”

Katherine stepped back, frantic to put space between them. His hand released her, and he snarled an oath at her reluctance. “Do as you’re told, lady, or I’ll shove you overboard and save myself the trouble of totin’ you along.”

Her eyes widened. A shudder swept through her slender frame and his grin was triumphant. “Thought that’d get you movin’. Can’t imagine you’d want to drown in that muddy water, would you now?”

Katherine refused the gibe, her hands working at the ropes holding her yearlings. “They’re tied,” she whispered.

“Now, get those reins in your hand and lead those two mares outa here.” The gun was unwavering as it pointed in her direction. “I’ll be right behind you, lady. If you holler fer that man of yers, I’ll put a bullet in him and shove you over the side.”

And he would. Deep in her heart of hearts, Katherine believed every threat he’d leveled in her direction. Grasping the reins of the black and her own chestnut mare, she walked slowly from the livestock area in the stern of the boat, heading with even steps toward the gangplank.

Wide enough to hold two horses, the gangplank stretched from the lower deck to the bank. She shuddered, swallowing hard as she considered the water flowing beneath her feet.

“Katherine. Where the hell you goin’ with those mares?” From the deck above, Roan’s shout was pure irritation, his voice harsh.

Her eyes sought him, blinking against the brilliant sunshine, and her mouth opened with words of warning to spew in his direction. From behind her came a snarl of impatience and the hard pressure of a gun against her spine.

“Shut yer mouth.” It was a warning growl and her lips pressed together obediently.

“Damn!” Roan’s single curse blistered the air and she closed her eyes at the anguish visible on his face. “Take the horses and get. Leave the woman.” His snarling words reached her ears with the force of a tempest.

Behind her, Sloan laughed, a triumphant sound, accompanied by the nudging of his gun as he urged her forward. “Too late, Devereaux,” he taunted. “You shoulda been payin’ attention to yer woman instead of jawin’ with the captain. Now you get to watch us ride off together.”

“Not likely,” Roan retorted. Frozen in place, he’d already decided using his own weapon was not an option. Katherine was too close to her captor. And then it became a moot point as Sloan shouted out an order.

“Throw yer gun down here, Devereaux.” His eyes gleamed with vicious intent as he watched the tall man on the deck above. “Either that or I shoot yer woman. What’ll it be?”

Slowly, Roan slid his revolver from the holster and dropped it to the deck below. His hands gripped the rail once more and he watched through narrowed eyes as Sloan nudged Katherine onto the gangplank.

“Get on that horse.” Sloan’s head nodded to Katherine as he pushed her toward her mare. With no saddle and with skirts hampering her agility, she floundered for a moment, one hand grasping the mane of the chestnut. “Damn, I’ll shove you overboard in a minute. Let that man of yours go after you.”

“No!” Katherine’s denial was frantic. The thought of being swallowed up by the murky water sent a chill of despair through her body.

“Can’t swim? Ain’t that a pity!” His mockery brought her around, and a glare of anger flashed from the depths of her eyes as she faced him.

“I need to cross the gangplank and get on with the help of a bale or crate or something. If you push me over the side to drown, you’ll have Roan Devereaux on your neck so fast you’ll never know what hit you.”

His eyes squinted at her knowingly. “You may be right, lady. Get movin’ then.” Walking between the mares, they crossed the wooden bridge, the four horses strung out behind them. Above, Roan watched, his gaze unwavering as he clenched his teeth, waiting his chance. The gun was firm against Katherine’s back and he couldn’t risk any movement that might spur the outlaw into action.

Passengers had halted all around him. Several men on the dock were enthralled by the drama they’d stumbled upon, none of them eager to interfere. It didn’t pay to stick your nose in another man’s business along the waterfront.

The yearlings milled about, excited by the commotion, unused to the scent of the stranger in their midst. Roan’s gaze focused on the blue dress and the woman within its folds. Surrounded by horses—she looked small, fragile almost—and his heart thumped against his chest as he considered the odds of her situation. His hands tightened on the rail, his body tensing as he gauged the distance to the deck below.

Sloan grabbed at the reins in Katherine’s hand. “I reckon you’ll be more good to me in the river than on that horse, now that I think about it,” he growled against her ear. His fingers were tight about her arm as he twisted it with cruel strength, shoving her to the edge of the bank.

Roan moved with instinctive grace. He cleared the rail, landing on the balls of his feet on the lower deck, one hand
reaching for the knife inside his boot. As Katherine hit the water, the knife left his hand.

Sloan felt the blade pierce his back. Clutching at her mane, he dragged himself atop the black mare. She danced sideways, snorting and rearing at the unexpected weight. Sprawled across her back, Sloan struggled against the pain, wheezing to catch a breath, frantic to seat himself upright. The mare’s shrill whinny was loud in the morning air. Her neck arched and she bucked once, scattering the yearlings. Without a sound, Sloan slid from her back to sprawl on the grassy bank, blood flowing from his mouth.

Roan’s feet hit the gangplank, his eyes searching the water. From several yards downstream, Katherine’s head broke the surface. She sputtered and shook her head, her arms and hands moving to hold herself afloat.

“You okay, honey?” Roan’s long steps carried him to the bank where several men had been spurred into action by the sight of Katherine’s struggle. One tossed a rope to her, and it floated just beyond her grasp. She reached out, her fingers snagging it with ease.

Her eyes sought Roan, and she shoved long strands of wet hair from her face. Wrapping the rope around her wrist, she pulled herself closer to the men who leaned to help. Eager hands grasped her, lifting her from the water.

Katherine plucked at the wet dress, pulling it from her legs. Her teeth chattering, her legs trembling, she shivered in the sunlight. “Am I all right? No, I’m not all right!”

“Get that mare!” Roan’s shout brought Katherine’s head erect, and she abandoned her efforts to put herself in order. The black mare was trotting down the riverbank, shivering and tossing her head. His hands full calming the string of horses and holding firmly to Katherine’s chestnut mare, Roan watched as two men approached the black horse. Her reins dragging in the dust, she was an easy target, and within seconds, she was captured.

Katherine drew a deep breath, but it wasn’t enough. Her vision blurred and she faltered, aware only of blinding sunlight and the voices around her. As her legs trembled beneath her, she felt a firm hand grip her waist. With ease, she was lifted and carried, her slender body held tightly.