Over the Barrel (12 page)

"How
was it that her father permitted you to wed so quickly?
 
Did he suspect?"

"We
told him that the temptation was too great to ignore and begged his
consent.
 
He was reluctant,
cautioning me that she was not accustomed to life outside of the plantation and
that she might have difficulty adjusting to the ways of the West.
 
He was correct.
 
We enjoyed our marriage bed, but that
was the only thing we could stand about each other.
 
She gave birth to a boy six months after
we were wed.
 
He was a colicky baby,
and she catered to his every need, even as he outgrew his condition.
 
He became quite spoiled, always whining
and throwing fits, and each year grew worse.
 
She hovered over him, as though he were
made of fancy china and never allowed me to discipline him or teach him any
responsibilities.
 
We fought harshly
about her mothering skills, or lack of them, and her anger grew to be as great
as one of her son's tantrums.
 
That
was also when she started making her rounds with other men."

"Why
didn't you just, well, spank her?"

"I
thought her too delicate at first and then grew to the place that I had no
desire to be around her.
 
When I am
forced to discipline, it is because I want the relationship to go smoothly or I
care about what happens to the gal.
 
With my wife, there was no relationship, just obligation, and I had been
pushed to the point that I no longer cared."

"I had
never associated discipline with caring." Blair acknowledged, tracing a
line in the ground with her toe.

"It
comes from a place of wanting the best for the other person," Sloan explained.
 
"A child who is loved receives both
rewards and consequences for her behavior.
 
Sometimes they don't always see these things for what they are.
 
Children, as part of their nature, tend
to be focused on their own needs and desires."

Blair joined
him in pebble tossing.
 
"Are
you suggesting that my aunt loved me, and that was why she was so strict about
my behavior?
 
I always felt she did
so for her own reputation, so the defiant, orphaned niece would not bring her
disgrace."

"It
might be true.
 
Everyone has their
own reasons to do things.
 
Maybe
that was the only way she knew to show her love for you."

"I
don't wish to discuss that mean old woman.
 
Please, continue your story, if it does not bother you to do so."

"Very
well.
 
Leila and I were together for
five years when I was called to El Paso to escort some prisoners to trial.
 
She took that opportunity to clean me
out of every penny I had in savings and left.
 
I did not bother to go after her and
ventured south to start a new life for myself in a different territory.
 
Less than two months later, I received
word that patrolling rangers found her body about two miles from an Indian
camp.
 
She had apparently taken up
her favorite activity and was entertaining men for money.
 
It appeared that the bordello was
raided, and the occupants were taken prisoner."

"That
is simply terrible, Sloan!
 
Did they
find her son?"

Sloan
sighed, looking into the sky, "Yes.
 
There were no survivors."

"I
don't understand.
 
Why would the
Indians do such a dreadful thing?"

"That
was why the law was called in.
 
The
tribal leaders were aghast when the bodies were discovered and denied any
knowledge.
 
We received word that a
bank robbery happened fifty miles south about three months earlier.
 
That town's bordello was raided and all
the occupants were murdered several miles out from a peaceful Indian camp.
 
That led to the suspicion that a gang of
outlaws was using local tribes to cover their tracks."

He paused,
rattling some rocks in his palm.
 
"Unfortunately, the town folk were not interested in investigating
the truth behind these murders, nor did they choose to remember that this tribe
were peaceful people who lived as farmers.
 
Blood lust is an evil, ugly thing and turns intelligent people into
scared predators.
 
Even with
evidence freeing the tribe of guilt, the town continued to hunt them down like
animals and demanded the hanging of every injun they could find.
 
The tribe eventually relocated."

Blair sat
quietly, thinking of his words.
 
She
took in a deep breath.
 
"It's
obvious by the sound of your voice that you still had feelings for her, Sloan.
 
I am sorry that this happened."

"She
was one of twenty-three people who these men murdered.
 
That sound in my voice is anger, not my
feelings concerning her."

Blair
relented and touched his shoulder.
 
"There is nothing wrong with having those feelings.
 
I feel like you think you don't deserve
happiness, but you do.
 
One day you
will see it."

"I make
my own happiness, kid.
 
That's why
I'm not the right man for you."

Blair looked
down and blinked back disappointed tears, "… as I would not be the right
woman for you.
 
You are correct once
again.
 
I am too selfish and
inexperienced to be able to give you what you need."

"You
are young, yet.
 
I would not say you
are selfish, but more naïve.
 
I also
did not say you would not be the right woman for me.
 
I said I was not the right man for
you.
 
Enough of this talk; we have
things to do.
 
Let's get a fire
started and I'll rustle up some grub.
 
How about you get the kettle ready for coffee and then clean up the guns
like I showed you."

 
The conversation was definitely
over.
 
Sloan patted Blair's knee and
stood up to gather firewood.
 
Blair
silently followed his example, pausing to stare at his broad back and square
shoulders.
 
He paused and turned
around to look at her, catching her as she stared at him.

"What's
wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing.
 
I was just contemplating what my life
would be like had someone really cared for me."

"I care
for you, and I am certain your grandfather will as well.
 
Speaking of caring, how is your
bottom?"

Blair
blushed, "It is causing me much discomfort.
 
You saw my fidgeting upon the
rock."

"You
are hiding your tenderness well.
 
If
you would like, you may seat yourself in the stream for a spell."

"I
would like that very much!
 
Thank
you.
 
Will you be nearby to keep
watch for me?"

Sloan's lips
cracked into a small smile in response to Blair's grateful attitude.
 
"I am not letting you out of my
sight, Squirrel.
 
Not for one
second."

Blair
stripped down to her drawers and chemise and eased her aching body into the
shallow running water just off the river's bank.
 
Her teeth began to chatter immediately
as the icy cold water touched her skin.

"Why is
this so cold?" she called to the man who sat with his back angled away
from her.

"It's
coming from the snow melt off the mountains.
 
The elevation is pretty high here, and
there is snowfall seen sometimes into July.
 
We are still early in the summer season,
so we are gonna see our fair share of white."

"I
don't see anything."
 
Blair
strained from her spot in the river to look around the burnt orange,
shrub-covered pass.

"You
will see plenty in the morning.
 
How's that feeling on your rump?"

"I
really wish you would not be so forward when you talk about my body,"
Blair stated, sinking back to wash her hair in the flowing water.

"Girl,"
he turned to look directly at her, "you asked me to make love to you,
demanded I marry you, and then wanted to be certain I was present when you
bathed.
 
Being forward goes both
ways."

"I am a
shameful tart, for certain," Blair giggled.
 
"Join me."

"I will
not."

"You
will become accustomed to the cold with the sun on your shoulders.
 
Please?"

"Blair,
my temptation to get into your bed is already beyond my will.
 
Seeing your naked body through your
underthings is torment.
 
No."

"I do
not mean to sound like a common street woman, Sloan.
 
I merely wish to explore my desires
without being limited."

"I
understand that, but you must remember that in the pursuit of your desires,
there are other people to consider.
 
You are conflicted between what you desire and what you believe is right
and proper.
 
That type of conflict
will only grant you trouble.
 
No
more of this."

"Yes,
Sloan," Blair sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned back against a
cropping of smooth rocks.
 
The water
ran over her shoulders and across the tips of her raised breasts, and she found
herself curving her back in response to the sensation.

She allowed
her mind to drift into the place where reality ceased to exist and fantasy
ruled.
 
A place where Sloan stood
naked before her, his unpatched blue eye gazing at her body with both desire
and appreciation.
 
In this world, h
e reached towards her with strong, firm
fingertips to caress her exposed skin.
 
The softness of his touch rendered her helpless, forcing her body to
sweep towards him.
 
Those fingers
began to tease and tantalize, slowly awakening the woman inside of her, giving
her permission to release control and allow desire to overtake her senses.

Lost in thought and immersed in the image
playing in her mind, Blair forgot that she was not alone.
 
Her hand crept beneath the splashing
current and eased under her chemise.
 
She sharply inhaled as her fingers parted the seam of her drawers and
found the hot, throbbing center of her womanhood.
 
A single stroke of her fingertip,
imagining it as his, brought an unfamiliar feeling of freedom.
 
She craved his skin touching hers as she
began to quietly moan, desperately seeking salvation from the aching emptiness
of her body.

In the distance, she heard a man
swear.
 
Through lidded eyes, she
watched as Sloan stripped his clothes, tossed aside his eye patch and eased
into the cold water next to her.
 
Gently, he reached for her wrist and pulled it out from the warm embrace
of her thighs.
 
His lips found her
palm and pressed against the cup of her hand.

"This should not be happening,"
he said, his teeth grazing the inside of her wrist.
 
"Only bad things can happen from
this."

Blair said nothing in return as Sloan's
mouth traveled to the crook of her elbow and mouthed the delicate skin.
 
She shuddered as her ache grew more
uncomfortable.

"This feeling I have," she
breathed heavily, tilting her head back as he explored the skin of her
throat.
 
"It is like there is
something inside of me that had been hidden and now is trying to claw its way
out."

"It is passion," Sloan
whispered into her lips, trailing his fingers down the back of her neck.
 
His hot, moist breath skimmed across her
cheek before meeting the damp indentations of her ear.
 
"You are a creature of seduction
and you have entranced me into your web.
 
May I have you?"

"Now is not the time to play the
perfect gentleman from Boston.
 
Do
not ask, Ranger Adkins.
 
Take what
you desire," Blair groaned as his mouth taunted her flesh, ripping away
any resistance as his hands slid the thin fabric from her wet body.
 
"My thoughts are so sinful, yet I
have no strength to put the wicked things to rest."

"Tell me your thoughts, Blair.
 
What type of wickedness dwells in your
sweet mind?"
 
He grabbed a
handful of her long hair and firmly pulled her head back, forcing her to gaze
into his eyes as he whispered her name.
 
"Tell me all, Blair."