The Prospect: The Malloy Family, Book 10 (21 page)

However, the land itself was breathtaking. Towering trees, both deciduous and evergreen, swayed gently in the breeze. The air was clean and crisp, each breath she took sharp. The river sparkled in the late afternoon sun as though diamonds were floating on its surface. Tall grass waved, swishing as horse and man ran past. A rainbow of wildflowers peppered the ground, eye-popping colors of blue, yellow and orange.

In the distance, she saw the rolling foothills that led to the mountains that lay beyond. One day she wanted to see those mountains, feel their magnificence firsthand. For now, she had to be content with the foothills and the promise of what would be.

As the sun set, the landscape changed. Large brush strokes of rich oranges, purples and reds painted everything around her. The scent of nature grew crisper. Jo was stunned by what she saw, smelled, felt. As a woman who had read thousands of books, taught dozens of children hundreds of lessons, she had been ignorant until this moment. Completely, utterly ignorant.

Her heart thumped, pushing the blood through her body. She was alive, blessedly alive in the splendor of nature, humbled by the sheer beauty surrounding her. Jo thought she knew so much, but all she knew were words. This was part of her education sorely lacking until now.

Now she understood why people left their homes and all they knew to move west. She had seen the logic behind it, believed in her sister’s dream for their carpenter father. It had been more than difficult to move west and Jo had endured it all with her family. If only she had known what awaited them, it might have made the trip easier.

With the right source of books and the man running beside her, Jo could live here. Forever. She’d never felt so at home or so alive. This was where she belonged.

Apollo tossed his head, side-stepping toward Declan. He moved out of the way in time with a barely contained curse. As her faux husband caught his breath, Jo pulled the horse to a stop better than she thought she could. She patted the horse’s neck, surprised to find the gelding trembling beneath her touch.

She glanced around, the hair on the back of her neck prickling. An eerie silence blanketed the air. The horse made a strange sound and moved toward Declan again. Jo met his gaze and saw the same worry in his blue eyes.

He spoke in a harsh whisper. “Something ain’t right.”

Rustling sounded in the tall grass behind her. This time Jo’s heart was not thumping in awe, it was galloping in fear. Declan stepped toward the horse and took the reins from her hands, his movements deliberate but slow.

“Scoot back, lass.”

She obeyed, giving him room to mount the horse, which he did with surprising ease considering his size. As he picked up the reins, a low growl split the silence.

“Hang on!” Declan leaned forward and spurred the horse into a gallop. Jo gripped his waist for dear life.

They exploded across the uneven ground, Apollo proving his godlike status by avoiding holes, jumping logs and keeping up a breakneck speed. Whatever was behind them followed, the growling punctuated by snapping branches and frightened birds winging away from the danger.

“What’s back there?” Declan’s question floated to her on the wind whistling past her ear.

Jo was afraid to look, but she had to. They assumed danger, but it might be a deer or elk. Improbable but not impossible. She took a deep breath and turned her head to look.

The wolf.

“Oh dear God.” She tightened her grip on Declan, frantically clawing for purchase on the waistband of his trousers. “It is the wolf.”

Her stomach dropped to knees. It was the same wolf, it had to be. The hatred in its eyes, the bared teeth, the wind whipping its gray fur as it ran full tilt after them. How had it tracked them that far?

“Fucking hell.” He didn’t apologize for cursing and she didn’t expect him to. “Take the gun and shoot that son of a bitch.”

Jo knew how to shoot a gun, but her hands shook as she slid the pistol from Declan’s waist. It was heavy, almost too much for her to grip. She forced her muscles and tendons to work, to hang onto the gun.

“Now would be the time, lass,” Declan growled. “We can’t lose another horse to a wolf. Shoot the goddamn thing.”

Jo’s mouth was cotton dry and she couldn’t manage to swallow. Fear made her hands slick but she managed to turn and aim the weapon. The wolf’s eyes glowed with fury as its jaws grew close enough to grab the horse’s tail.

Shoot it. Shoot it now.

She thumbed the hammer back and took aim. Jo squeezed the trigger too hard, her shot going wild, but it startled the wolf. It stumbled momentarily, giving Jo a moment to tighten her fingers and swallow the giant lump of fear in her throat.

“Did ye get it?”

“Not yet.” She closed her left eye and thumbed the hammer back a second time. The wolf was reenergized, scrambling for purchase on the scrubby ground and nearly flying toward them. Jo took a deep breath and fired. The bullet hit the animal right in the eye. Its head exploded, spraying blood and brains into the late-day air.

The wolf went down, tumbling head over heels until it skidded to a halt. Jo stared at the animal, waiting to see if it would rise and chase them again. She half expected it to shake off the bullet and howl. Her stomach roiled at the carnage she had wrought. As they traveled forward, the wolf got smaller and smaller.

“Did ye get it?” Declan repeated.

Jo leaned her forehead against his broad back. “Yes. It is dead.”

“Thank God.” He pulled up on the horse’s reins and slowed it to a trot.

She tried to swallow the tears, but they spilled through her closed eyes, hot and salty on her cheeks. Her body shook with the sobs she would not let loose. She had to be strong, to chalk up her murderous act to survival. Yet she had killed a beautiful, deadly creature, one whose only crime was its very nature.

Jo was torn between relief and grief. They would not have to worry about the menace from that particular wolf, but the bear was still out there, plus any other number of dangers. With the beauty and magnificence of the West came peril.

Declan slowed the horse until he finally stopped. The sounds of nature continued around them, as if there weren’t a bloody carcass a mile behind them. She focused on breathing in and out, barely noting he took the gun from her hand.

“Thank ye, lass.” Declan’s voice was rough. “We owe you our lives.”

She blew out a breath and sucked in another before she could speak. “I killed it.”

“Damn right ye did.” He slid off the horse and dragged her down into his arms. If she weren’t shaking so hard herself, she would have thought he was trembling too. She clutched at him, moving as close as possible without crawling into his skin.

The horse moved away, presumably to munch on grass nearby. Jo didn’t care. She was in pain, both inside and out, and right then, being within his arms was the only thing keeping her in one piece.

“I need you.” Her ragged plea cut through the still air.

“Ah, darlin’, I need you too, so I do.” He kissed the top of her head. “More than I should.”

“Now, Declan. I need you now.” She reached for the buttons on his shirt and his hands landed on hers.

“Do you think it’s—”

“I am not thinking at all. I want to feel. Make me feel good.” She desperately wanted to feel his heat, his body, his life force.

Declan hesitated for a split second before he sighed. “I cannot refuse you, love.”

He cupped her behind and lowered her to the ground, lying on top of her in one graceful movement. The whisper of the blades tickled her ears as she settled on the ground. She breathed in—the smell of the earth and his scent filled her. Jo spread her legs and wrapped them around his hips, bringing her aching core against his hardness. Her breath hitched as pleasure zinged through her at the contact.

His mouth found hers and she lost herself in a kiss. They weren’t the sweet, hot kisses from their first joining. This was one of aching need, healing and life. She lost herself in the warm depths, her tongue danced and rasped against his. Jo pushed her breasts against his chest, shamelessly rubbing her nipples.

He growled low in his throat and pushed his hardened staff against her, picking up a rhythm as though he were already making love to her. It drove her to distraction. She had to feel his flesh against hers.

“More.” She barely recognized the word as it burst from her mouth.

As the sun set around them, the rich oranges and reds led to deep purples and grays. He looked down, his blue eyes in shadows but she saw anyway.

“I love you, Declan.”

He shook his head and kissed her softly. “God help me, I love you too, Josephine.”

“Make me feel, please.” She scratched at his back, the elemental force within her taking control of her body. To her surprise, she pulled up her skirt until her drawers showed, the slit open and ready for him.

Declan fumbled with his trousers until she felt his cock brushed her thigh.

Yes, this was what she wanted. Needed.

“Please.”

He slid into her slick folds, slow and deliberate. She grasped handfuls of the tall grass, crushing it in her hands. He pushed farther in, seating himself fully inside her. Declan’s breath gusted path her ear, raising goose bumps. They paused, joined together in heart, body and soul. She tightened her muscles and he groaned, so she did it again.

“Aye, lass, it feels good.”

He thrust in and out, slowly at first. The sweet friction sent frissons of pleasure through her, making her want more, crave more. She pulled her knees up, opening herself wider and deeper. He sank into her, filling her with his hardness. She yanked grass out and reached for more, gripping him as her body met his every move.

Liquid heat rolled through her. She counted every breath, every heartbeat, every caress of the breeze. Her body was sensitized to the extreme, every nerve ending vibrated. A coil tightened inside her each time his cock entered her channel.

Tighter, tighter, tighter still.

“Come with me, Jo. Now.” He kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers. It pushed his pelvis against hers, rubbing her button of pleasure enough to send her over the edge.

She spiraled out of control, muffling her scream against his mouth. His big body stiffened and he found his own release deep within her. She held onto him, kissing him until she didn’t know where she ended and he began. His scent, their scent, perfumed the air.

Jo broke the kiss and smiled at him. She could finally breathe again, made whole by joining with her man. This was what was important, being with him, beside him, with him. She brushed her thumb along his grizzled cheek.

“Thank you.”

He chuckled. “You are the oddest woman I’ve ever met.” Then he grinned and lay on his back beside her, staring up into the deepening twilight sky together.

Jo let loose the grass she had demolished during their lovemaking and rubbed her hands together. “Are we going to stop for the night or keep traveling?”

“After that, I think we’re going to rest a wee bit. I could use a bit of food to get my strength back.” His teasing made her smile.

“How far do you think we have to go?” She had no concept of distance without city blocks to guide her. That would have to change soon if she were to survive in the Wyoming territory.

“Not sure if that horse trader was telling the truth or not. If so, then it’s twenty miles. If not, then we could be in Kansas.” He sat up and glanced around. “There’s a group of rocks over there we can use for shelter. I’ll get some wood for a fire if you try to round up the horse.”

Declan rose and left her in the soft grass, her body still throbbing from release. She managed to sit up and brush the dirt from her hair and hands. There was work to be done and lollygagging was not the method to accomplish it.

Chapter Nine

Declan didn’t sleep well, his mind tumbling with thoughts. They had almost died again, out here in the wild. If he couldn’t protect her, what kind of man was he? A fucking wolf had died at her hand. A wolf! There were none of those creatures roaming around Five Points—other evil creatures did with sharp teeth and murderous intent, but they didn’t have fur.

It certainly wasn’t the last wolf in the territory, nor would it be the last time they were in danger. Declan’s gut told him Drummond and Parker were out there, still hunting them. A confrontation was inevitable and he damn sure needed to be prepared. If only they hadn’t lost so much in the river. He hoped Malloy had ammunition and weapons to use. If not, Declan would find a trading post or a rancher willing to trade golden eagles for his stash of weapons.

Jo snuggled closer, her leg thrown over his under the one bedroll they still had. He had almost lost her so many times. The woman was like a cat, coming up time and again when death knocked on her door. It was uncanny how she survived, using only her book learning. It humbled him to think she had been the one to save herself. Men were supposed to be the strong ones.

Yet she was as strong as he was, perhaps stronger on the inside. And she was so smart it made his head hurt. Declan knew he wasn’t dumb, but he couldn’t read or write and numbers never made sense to him other than money. That was the only thing he ever learned to count. He never went to school. His education was on the streets of New York, written in blood and counted in lost lives.