Taken by the Cowboy (11 page)

She fought the urge,
however, because she was unsure of so many things – like how long
she would be stuck in this century. Kissing Truman Wade would be a
very dangerous game to play.

But Truman had
different ideas, and she nearly lost her breath when he pushed a
lock of her hair away from her face. Within seconds, his intentions
became clear as he ran a thumb across her cheek, then slowly
lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was reserved
at first, experimental, and she knew that if she wanted to stop it,
she would have to do it now. But his mouth – so soft and delicious
and warm upon hers – obliterated all her prudent thoughts. He was
so impossibly gorgeous. She couldn’t resist the need to part her
lips and let her tongue mingle wetly with his.

A tiny moan escaped
her, and she slid her hands up over the tops of his shoulders to
the back of his neck, where she ran her fingers through the warm
locks of his thick, dark hair. The lush heat of his mouth caused a
flame of arousal deep in her core, and she trembled with impulsive
desire.

How long had it been
since she’d been kissed like this? She couldn’t quite
recall....

His chest, tight and
warm against her breasts, heaved in a steady rhythm; the buckle at
his belt pressed against her belly.

Wendy stirred, but
Jessica was too overcome by her passions to even worry about that.
Truman's hands opened and closed over the fabric of her dress,
stroked her back, and his inquisitive mouth explored the open
warmth of hers. His breathing quickened. Jessica buried her hands
deeper into the hair at his nape.

It was all too
wonderful, but foolish at the same time. Jessica wasn’t supposed to
be here. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t want to become a
permanent part of this place.

"I don’t think this is
a good idea," she whispered in his ear as she dragged her mouth
from his, and he kissed down the side of her neck.

She didn’t want to
stop, but there were a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t be kissing
him.

“You’re right,” he
replied, laying more kisses across her shoulder. “I’m supposed to
be protecting you.”

Truth be told, that was
the last thing on her mind.

Truman held her close
for another shuddering moment before he finally stepped back. "I
told you I was a gentleman, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and you are.”

“This was my
fault."

“No, it was mine,” she
argued.

And it was. She had
wanted this. Desperately.

Then why did she stop?
Was it good sense or fear?

"Get some sleep," he
said, moving to the corner of the bed to pull on his coat. “I’ll
keep guard from the window in the hall.”

“You don’t need to
leave.”

“Oh, yes I surely do.”
He donned his hat and walked out.

Jessica sucked in a
quick breath and sank down onto the rocking chair. She tried to
remember how she felt with Liam in the beginning when he’d first
kissed her. It was exciting, but not quite like this. There had
never been anything forbidden about Liam. He’d seemed perfect on
the surface, and she had let herself tumble willingly into the
courtship, only to find out later that he was not what he seemed,
that she’d made a terrible mistake.

Hadn’t she learned
anything from all that? If she had, what was she doing kissing a
former bounty hunter who had killed six men?

The early sunlight
beamed into Wendy's boarding house room and woke Jessica from her
slumber. The first thing she saw was Truman sitting at the desk
with his back to her, reading the morning paper.

She watched him for a
moment and wondered what they would say to each other after what
happened last night. Would there be an unspoken intimacy between
them now? Or would they pretend the kiss never happened?

Jessica sat up on the
bed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Morning," Truman said
without turning around.

"Good morning. Where's
Wendy?"

"She went downstairs to
fetch some breakfast."

Jessica tried to gauge
his mood. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Not a wink."

She presumed, based on
his aloof tone, that he wanted to forget about their smokin’ hot
kiss, which was probably best.

But hadn’t she already
resigned herself to the fact that when it came to Truman Wade, she
was an incorrigible slut? Maybe she should just hop into his lap,
rip his clothes off, and be done with it.

"I take it nothing went
wrong, then?" she asked.

"You take it
right."

Oh… these nineteenth
century manners. It was going to take some getting used to.

She stretched her arms
over her head and let out an operatic yawn. Truman gave her a
strange look.

"Sorry," she said,
dropping her arms to her sides. “Always was a loud yawner.”

Just then, a knock
sounded at the door. Truman stood up, moved to stand beside it, and
cocked his weapon. "Who’s there?"

"It's Wendy, and Deputy
Dempsey is with me."

Truman lowered his gun
and let them in.

Wendy brought in a tray
of fragrant warm bread, eggs, sausages, and a pot of coffee. "I
hope this will be enough for everyone."

It smelled good enough
to kill for.

Truman turned to
Dempsey. "What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be keeping an
eye on Lou’s gang."

"I watched them ride
out of town this morning," he explained.

"Are you sure they’re
gone? All of them?"

"Positive. I followed
them for more than an hour."

Truman holstered his
gun and glanced at Jessica with a word of warning. "That sounds
reassuring,” he said, “but I wouldn’t relax just yet if I were you.
They’re a slippery bunch.”

* * *

Truman walked Jessica
as far as the Front Street intersection, but stopped abruptly when
she touched his arm and gave him a flirtatious look.

"You don’t need to walk
me home,” she said sweetly. “Deputy Dempsey said the gang rode out
of town, so I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides, I have a few errands to
run in town."

She gazed up at him
with those bewitching green eyes, and he knew something was up.

Jessica stuck out her
hand. "Thank you, Truman. It was a pleasure.” She paused. “Well,
some of it was, and I’m sure you know which part I’m talking
about.”

He couldn’t help but
chuckle. Dang, she was a sexy piece of work. Of course, he knew
what she was referring to, and her provocative words cost him a
fresh rush of exhilaration.

He took hold of her
hand and shook it. “I believe I do.”

The air between them
sparked with attraction, then she grinned mischievously and walked
off toward the hardware store, wiggling her cute little bottom as
she went.

He struggled to
maintain an appearance of casual disinterest as he watched her turn
into Zimmerman’s. People passed him on the boardwalk, saying hello,
bumping elbows with him. He nodded in return, barely aware of who
he was acknowledging, and knew full well that he should be at the
city clerk’s office by now, but he needed to keep an eye on
Jessica.

Besides, last night's
kiss was still clanging like an alarm bell in his head, and he
couldn’t seem to silence it.

Ever since Dorothy was
taken from him, he hadn’t felt much need for a woman. Not until
Jessica came to town. And last night she had looked up at him with
those alluring green eyes, and he experienced a shock of arousal
from his head to his nether regions that still had him reeling with
desire this morning. All he wanted to do was follow her home, carry
her upstairs to a bed – any bed would do—and plant himself firmly
and snugly between her thighs. Over and over and over.

With a frustrated shake
of his head, he leaned against a post and watched the goings-on in
the street, while he kept an eye on Zimmerman’s.

A few minutes later,
Jessica walked out and started up the boardwalk again in the other
direction. He expected her to turn up the street toward Maxwell’s
place, but instead, she turned down Second Avenue toward the bridge
and disappeared.

Wondering where she was
going, Truman went into Zimmerman’s and approached the counter.

"Morning Sheriff,” Fred
said. “Beautiful day."

"Yep, it’s something
else. Tell me, did you just wait on a young woman, about so high
with dark, reddish hair?"

"Sounds like you’re
referring to Junebug Jess. Pretty little thing, ain’t she? I don’t
believe a word of what the papers say. That girl wouldn’t hurt a
fly."

"Yeah...well. What did
she buy?"

"Nothing. She sold me
something."

Truman’s eyebrows
pulled together in a frown. "What was it?"

Fred reached into the
glass display case and withdrew a necklace. "I don't usually deal
in this type of thing, but I couldn't pass it up. Look at the size
of that diamond, and she sold it for a song."

Truman examined the
silver chain and single sparkling stone. It was the biggest diamond
he’d ever seen in his life, at least half an inch in diameter. It
was no small trinket. Why was Jessica selling this? Something worth
that much money would have to be a family heirloom. Unless, of
course, it was stolen. Maybe this was what the gang wanted from
her.

Had she lied about that
after all? Something tugged hard in his gut, and he wished he’d
never kissed her. It was only going to complicate things, because
he still wanted to do it again.

"Thanks, Fred." Truman
walked out of the store and crossed the street.

He spotted Jessica at a
distance, crossing the bridge and heading onto the open prairie
where the herds were grazing. Without a horse or buggy, she wasn't
going to get too far. There wasn't much out there except for
grass.

Maybe she was going to
meet someone.

Truman decided to
follow. He fetched his binoculars from his saddlebag, left Thunder
tethered at the water trough, then crossed the bridge, maintaining
a safe distance behind Jessica and crouching down in the tall
grass.

About a mile outside of
town, she stopped and moved to the edge of the road. Truman scanned
the horizon for company, but saw no one, so he hunkered down behind
an old upturned wagon to keep watch.

From where he was
kneeling, he could see her quite clearly through the binoculars.
She paced back and forth on the road, as if searching for
something. Truman lowered the binoculars and squinted through the
summer haze while insects buzzed all around him.

After a moment, Jessica
trudged down a grassy bank into an irrigation ditch, then stretched
her arms out to the side and began to spin around. She ran in
circles, flapping her arms like a bird attempting to fly.

“What the devil…?”
Truman raised the binoculars and watched her whirl and dance
around. She pulled her skirts up over her knees – she wasn’t
wearing any stockings—and hopped up and down like she was plum out
of her mind.

Refocusing the lenses
on those suntanned, smoothly muscled legs, Truman’s hands turned
clumsy and he dropped the binoculars. Jessica continued to spin and
jump, and all he could do was stare.

Just then, she stopped
spinning and staggered sideways. She toppled over and fell into the
grass.

Truman quickly stood.
He remembered Dorothy collapsing....

Gathering up his
binoculars, he took off in a full run across the prairie to reach
her.

* * *

Jessica lay flat on her
back, blinking up at the sky.

Why hadn't it worked?
All she'd managed to do was make herself dizzy and give herself
another headache.

She pressed her palm to
her forehead and tried to shut out the world, which was still
spinning around and around.

What would it take? If
only she could remember all the details of the experience.

Gazing up at the
topsy-turvy sky, she pondered the fact that the fluffy white clouds
were no different from the clouds back in the twenty-first century.
She could be home for all she knew.

But it wasn’t likely.
She couldn't hear any traffic, only the gentle whisper of the wind
through the tall prairie grasses and the sounds of grasshoppers and
bees.

She sat up and wondered
if a rainy day would do the trick. Maybe it was the lightning.

Suddenly she heard
someone call her name. She glanced toward town and saw Truman
running toward her. Thank God it was him, but how long had he been
watching her?

She collapsed onto her
back again, relieved and mortified at the same time. He had seen
her, she knew it, and any moment now, he was going to arrive and
ask her if she’d taken leave of her senses.

His boots whisked over
the grass and came to a halt beside her. "Are you hurt? What are
you doing out here? Are you okay?"

Jessica sat up. "I
think the more relevant question is what are
you
doing out
here?"

"I followed you."

She laughed. "Well,
that’s quite obvious, but something tells me you weren't concerned
for my safety. Otherwise, you simply would have made your presence
known."

Truman ripped off his
coat and tossed it onto the ground. "You didn’t answer my question,
Jessica. I asked what you were doing out here."

"It’s none of your
business."

“No? I saw you walk
into Zimmerman’s, and I know you pawned a necklace. That wouldn’t
be what Lou’s gang was after, would it?”

“No!”

“Then why didn’t you
tell me about it?”

She laughed with
disbelief. “You never mentioned you wanted an inventory of all my
worldly possessions.”

He shook his head. “It
was more than a worldly possession. You parted with a fortune this
morning, and you seem to be taking it pretty lightly. You could've
at least gone down the street for a better price. Why were you in
such a hurry to get rid of it?"