Tall, Dark, and Texan (32 page)

But he’d go slowly. He wanted her, and someday he’d take her hard and fast, but not tonight. The first few times he touched her, he’d force himself to go easy, so slow she’d be begging for him before he moved inside her.

He loved hearing the soft sounds of pleasure she made when he stroked her breasts. She’d come to his arms and his bed willingly. Tonight he’d please her. If she had any idea of the hunger pulsing through him, she might be frightened even more than she had been this afternoon with the talk of a fight.

When he finally settled her against his heart, he thought he’d let her rest and grow used to him beside her, but she’d discovered the hair on his chest and kept running her fingers over it.

“Jess,” he ordered. “Stop that and go to sleep.” He wasn’t surprised when she ignored him.

She giggled. “I never knew you were so hairy. Maybe you are part bear.”

He caught her hand as it slid over his nipple. “What are you doing?”

She rose to one elbow. “I’m exploring you.” She kissed his throat. “You belong to me, you know.” She tugged his shirt aside and undid the first few buttons of his trousers.

He’d never thought of it, but in a strange way, he didn’t mind if she claimed him. He kind of liked the idea of being her man. “Oh, so you think the beast is yours,” he growled low against her ear.

“Yes,” she answered. “All mine.”

When she ran her hand along his stomach to below his unbuckled belt, he almost jerked out of the bed.

“Easy now,” she said, pushing her fingers an inch lower. “I’m just getting used to the feel of you. Be still until I’ve had my chance to explore.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, but I’ll try.” He’d felt so few touches in his life. Most of the time he’d told himself he didn’t need such foolishness, but Jessie was proving him wrong. Her touch could quickly become an addiction.

He tried to relax as her hand played across the muscles of his chest, and each time she reached his belt, she pushed a little further as if she sensed how greatly she affected him.

“I like the feel of you, dear,” she whispered, almost asleep. “Almost as much as I like you touching me.”

“Are you finished?” he asked, catching her hand over his heart.

“No.” She laughed. “I plan to touch you so often you won’t even notice my hands sliding over you.”

“I doubt that will happen in this lifetime, but I’m willing to test the theory.”

She wiggled, turning her back to him. He shifted to his side, pressing his need for her against her hips. He wanted to strip off her gown and feel her bare body against him, but he knew he needed to erase the past one touch at a time.

“Jess,” he whispered. “You’re mine. I want you here with me like this every night.”

“In my dreams, I’ve been here with you for years,” she whispered. “In my dreams I always fall asleep with you holding me.”

“And touching you?” He moved his hand over her hip.

“Mmmm,” she mumbled as he stroked her again.

She was already too near sleep to answer. He tugged the ring he’d picked up at Elmo’s weeks ago from his pocket and slipped it on the third finger of her left hand. “I meant to give you this before, but I wanted to know you came willingly to me.”

When her eyes didn’t open, he lifted her hand and kissed the ring. “Tomorrow I’ll remind you never to remove the ring, but for now, I’ll let you sleep while I learn the feel of you.”

While one hand held her close, the other reached around and unbuttoned her gown. “Jessie,” he whispered as his hand slid from her throat to below her stomach. “Jess, I’m just going to touch you tonight. You keep dreaming, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“All right,” she answered in sleep. She shifted slightly as his hand moved lower.

He couldn’t be sure if she was awake or sleeping, but she moved as he slid his hand over her body and began to stroke her most private part. When his fingers pushed inside, she let out a little sigh and rocked onto her back.

“Sleep, darling,” he whispered. “Sleep and dream of me touching you.”

He continued exploring as his mouth gently took her breast.

Her sighs were the music to his movements as he worshiped every inch of her body. He felt the way her breathing changed when his fingers played inside her and the soft way she begged him to kiss her breasts again and again. She rocked with need when he took her soft mound deep inside his mouth.

Her body grew warmer to his touch as he learned her every curve and tasted the damp moisture along her body. She rocked with pleasure in his embrace.

When she began to move faster, he rose and kissed her deeply. He captured her cry at the moment she lost complete control. Her body tightened, then melted as she sighed in contentment.

He stilled, not believing what had just happened. When he raised his head, all he saw were her big brown eyes sparkling.

He cupped the back of her head in his hand. “Are you all right?”

She nodded as if she didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Are you angry?” He didn’t think she could be. She was still warm and molten in his hand.

She shook her head slightly.

He needed to know what she felt, but it wasn’t something he could demand. Kissing her cheek, he whispered, “I wish you understood how much I love touching you.”

She pulled away, paying no attention to the fact that her gown was open. Once above him, she leaned down and kissed his cheek just as he had hers, then she whispered, “I do.”

Without another word, she cuddled back into his arms.

He pulled the covers over them both.

He thought of touching her again. Of asking her to touch him. Of pulling off all their remaining clothes and making love to her.

Then he smiled.

They had a lifetime of nights together. He planned to savor each moment to the fullest. She’d liked his touch; she’d like the next step even more. And there would be a next step, and then another and another. The ache he had for her would take years to ease.

Closing his eyes, he slept soundly.

THE SOUND OF GUNFIRE WOKE HIM AT DAWN.

Jessie moved first, running for the door. He caught up to her by the time she reached the kitchen. Both had buttoned to presentable.

“One shot,” she said. “I heard one shot.”

Teagen tugged on his boots. “It’s almost light. I should have been in the saddle an hour ago.” He strapped his gun belt around his waist as Sage rushed up the porch steps. “Teagen. It’s Tattor Sims. I think he’s been shot again.”

When he and Jessie stepped outside, Teagen made out the old Ranger’s horse coming toward the house with Sims fighting to stay in the saddle.

“Get ready for him. I’ll ride out and see he makes it in.”

Teagen didn’t glance back at Jessie. He knew she was probably terrified, her big eyes round as saucers. She’d told him more than once that she hated the thought of anyone hurting.

If he turned to her, he’d see reality. He wasn’t ready to let go of the memory of the way she’d felt in his arms when he’d satisfied her as a woman. He’d loved the way she’d jerked against him in pleasure and how she’d held onto him as if she feared she might drift away.

He forced his mind from the night as he stepped up on Sage’s horse and rode out to Sims at a full gallop.

The old Ranger was swearing a blue streak. He’d been hit in the left thigh this time and, from the blood dripping out both sides of his leg, the bullet must have passed right through.

“I thought it was still dark enough to walk the river’s edge. I figured if I didn’t get some exercise my wound would never heal up. Some blasted son of the devil must have seen me.” He swore a while and then added, “I’m getting mighty tired of being used for target practice.”

By the time he reached the house, he’d stopped swearing and started claiming he was dying. Sage and Martha took over, moving him to the downstairs bedroom.

“I’ll see to him,” Sage yelled when Teagen looked like he planned to follow her into the house.

He glanced toward the kitchen and saw Jessie, now in her robe. She was busy starting the stove and putting water on to boil. He had to force himself not to step inside for one kiss. He had a job to do, and if he didn’t do everything right, they might all be in danger. Plus he knew one kiss would never be enough.

He ran for his horse and had the mount halfway saddled when he remembered how she’d said he was hers, like she claimed him. When there was time, he planned to do some thinking on that. He swung into the saddle in a hurry for all the trouble to be over and well aware that he had to shove Jessie out of his mind if he planned to be at his best.

His best and nothing less, he thought, for all their lives depended on it.

Before breakfast two more men had been shot at, but neither was hit. Teagen pulled the riders to a safe distance from the river, but he couldn’t find Tobin. Travis told him not to worry; Tobin was used to doing things his own way.

“It bothers me someone can stand across the river and fire at our land.” Teagen had been fighting the urge to fire back since dawn.

Travis shrugged. “You can’t buy all of Texas. We’re safer here than most ranches. As soon as we know Sims is going to make it, we need to figure out how we plan to get to them. I’m thinking we could cross downstream and ride behind their camp. We could be on them before they saw us coming.”

It was a plan, but Teagen didn’t see, even with the advantage of surprise, that the two of them would have much chance against thirty or more. Travis knew as well as he did that they couldn’t take more men. If they did, they’d be leaving the ranch unarmed.

He was standing on the porch thinking things couldn’t get any worse when an old buggy rolled across the bridge. He swore, knowing who it was by the ragged fringe and broken-down mule. Mrs. Dickerson. The old schoolteacher had a way of butting into their lives. This time she’d be lucky if she didn’t get herself killed.

Knowing her, she’d heard about their trouble from someone in town and came out to check on them herself. The only way they’d welcome her was if she came armed to the teeth, and he somehow doubted that would be the case.

“Sage,” he yelled from the barn. “Get rid of her.”

Sage stepped out. “I’ve got my hands full with Sims. You’ll have to talk to her, big brother.”

He looked around for someone else to pass the chore to, but Travis had vanished, and Dolan Hatch wouldn’t talk to her even if he wasn’t watching the herd. The three other men he’d hired were probably sleeping, since they’d stood guard all night.

Teagen walked to the center of the yard and waited, his rifle braced across his shoulders.

Mrs. Dickerson’s rig rolled to a stop. Her mangy mule looked like he might drop dead any moment. Besides being the ugliest animal Teagen had ever seen, the old lady had put a bow in the mule’s mane. That had to be humiliating, even for a mule.

“Morning, Teagen,” the teacher said as if he were still a child. “Help me down, young man.”

“Mrs. Dickerson, we got no time for company today.” That was the most polite thing he could think of, but he knew it fell far short of proper. “Do you think you could come for a visit some other day?”

“I know all about your trouble. Drummond told me.”

“How do you know the kid?” He offered his hand as she wiggled from her buggy. He could never quite tell if she was fat or simply wore a dozen layers of clothes. Her four husbands probably died of exhaustion trying to undress her. Just the thought made him want to slam the butt of his gun against his head to knock the image out.

“Never mind that. How I know Mr. Roak is none of your concern,” she said. “And for now, I won’t discuss how I expect your new daughters to be in school next month. I’ve more pressing things that must be dealt with at present.”

Teagen spotted Travis coming from of the barn. He almost made it back out of sight before the old schoolteacher spotted him. “Travis McMurray, I’ll be needing to talk to you also. Come over here.”

The hardened Texas Ranger who now served as a lawyer at the capital followed orders and stepped forward with a polite, “Yes, ma’am.”

Teagen fought the urge to shove the bundle of p’s and q’s back into her buggy, but in truth, he respected the old lady. She’d been the one person in town who’d kept up with them when their parents died. For years she’d sent reading lists and nagged Teagen to keep up his brothers’ studies. She had even given him the address of a bookstore in Chicago and Eli’s name. Whatever she came out here for, she must think it important. He could spare a few minutes, then send her flying back to town as fast as her half-dead mule would take her.

“Would you like to join us for breakfast?” he asked, not missing the frown Travis gave him.

“No, thank you, but I will have a cup of Martha’s coffee.” Mrs. Dickerson walked inside. She took time to meet Jessie and talk to each of the girls before settling down at the table. Emily was shy as always, but Rose seemed fascinated someone had appeared who might know the answers to all her questions. Bethie grabbed for the glasses dangling around the teacher’s neck. Instead of telling the baby no, she simply explained that these were her glasses and only she could touch them.

Bethie, if she understood a word, showed no sign.

Teagen, listening to their chatter, stepped down the hall to where Sims lay on the same bed he’d shared with Jessie only hours before. The seasoned Ranger looked pale and older. He’d weathered the first shot well. He might not be so lucky this second time.

“How is he?” Teagen asked Sage.

“I’ve almost got the bleeding stopped, but he’s already got a fever. Also, the fall has opened the old wound.”

Teagen knew black powder poisoning killed more men than bullets. “Anything I can do?”

Sage’s smile was wicked. “Talk to Mrs. Dickerson.”

He frowned and headed back to the kitchen. Travis stood by the stove, watching the old teacher fuss over the girls. She was a Pied Piper. Children loved her. There would be no stopping Emily and Rose from starting school this fall.