Under A Prairie Moon (17 page)

Dalton paused in the doorway, and Kathy glanced around the room. The desks had been removed to make room for dancing. A couple of long wooden tables covered with white linen cloths had been set up against the far wall. Two of the town ladies stood behind the tables, dispensing cake, cookies, pie and apple cider. Several couples, including some kids, were dancing. A small knot of women stood in one corner, chatting amiably; a group of men were gathered near the punch bowl. Pictures titled “What the Fourth of July Means to Me” were tacked to one wall.

Dalton tugged gently on Kathy’s arm. “Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure.”

“Mind your toes,” he warned, and taking her by the hand, he led her onto the dance floor, then swept her into his arms.

He was a wonderful dancer, smooth and graceful. She smiled as he twirled her around the floor, faster and faster, until she was dizzy and breathless.

She was like a feather in his arms, Dalton mused, and spun her faster and faster, until she was laughing out loud. He loved the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes glowed with merriment.

They were both breathless when the music ended. Feeling young and carefree, Dalton hugged her close. He was about to ask her if she wanted to get something to eat when he felt a sudden chill slither down his spine. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Lydia glaring at him from across the room.

Some perverse demon rose up within him, made him lower his head and claim Kathy’s lips with his. He could almost hear Lydia’s hiss of outrage, feel her hatred arrowing into his back.

“Dalton…” Kathy turned her head to the side, embarrassed that he had kissed her so intimately in a public place.

“Sorry. Come on,” he said, placing her hand on his arm, “let’s go get something to drink.”

The lady behind the table smiled as she handed them each a cup of apple cider.

Kathy murmured her thanks, then followed Dalton to a clear space against the wall. The band was playing a waltz. She tried not to stare as Russell and Lydia swept past. Russell was smiling; Lydia was as stiff as a mannequin. Kathy didn’t miss the look Lydia gave Dalton, though she had trouble deciphering it. Hatred? Jealousy?

When the waltz ended, Kathy was surprised to see Russell and Lydia heading in their direction. She heard Dalton swear.

“Well, having a good time?” Russell asked. His gaze moved over Kathy in a long, assessing glance. “Who’s this pretty little filly?”

“My cousin, Katherine Wagner.”

Russell offered his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Wagner. Mind if I have the next dance?”

Kathy looked up at Dalton uncertainly, and he shrugged, as if to say,
It’s up to you
.

“I promise not to step on your toes,” Russell said, and taking her by the hand, he led her out onto the floor.

“Cousin indeed,” Lydia said, her voice low and angry as she watched Russell waltz Kathy around the floor. “You must take me for a fool. What is she to you?”

“A friend.”

“Is she good in bed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Liar.”

“Dammit, Lydia, mind your tongue.”

“Dance with me.”

“I’d as soon dance with a snake.”

“Dance with me.”

Afraid she’d make a scene if he refused again, Dalton led her onto the dance floor and took her in his arms.

“You dance divinely,” Lydia remarked. “Most big men don’t, you know. Russell is as clumsy as an old bull.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips. “He would not believe you,” she replied smugly. “He loves me, you know. If I told him the sky was green, he would believe me.”

“I know.” It was one of the reasons he hadn’t tried harder to proclaim his innocence at the hanging. Conley thought the sun rose and set in Lydia’s eyes. He would never have believed her capable of betraying him, much less of lying about what had actually happened in the barn that night.

Dalton glanced over Lydia’s shoulder to where Conley was dancing with Kathy. It irked him to see her in another man’s arms. She laughed at something Conley said, and something turned over in Dalton’s heart. He had never been in love before. Was that what he was feeling now? Another of Fate’s dirty tricks, no doubt, for him to find love when it was too late.

“Dalton.”

“What?”

Lydia smiled up at him, a seductive smile playing over her pouting pink lips. “Let us take a walk outside. I feel the need for some fresh air.”

He shook his head, relieved that the music had ended. “Your husband is coming to claim you, Mrs. Conley,” he said. “He can take you outside.”

Anger flared in Lydia’s eyes, but before she could say anything, Conley was there.

Dalton nodded at his employer, grabbed Kathy by the arm and steered her off the dance floor and out of the building.

“Hey, take it easy,” Kathy exclaimed. “Where’s the fire?”

“In Lydia’s eyes,” Dalton muttered.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Kathy laughed. “She’s really on the make for you, isn’t she?”

“On the make?”

“Hot for your bod?”

Dalton came to an abrupt halt. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She laughed again. “Lydia has the hots for you.”

“Hots? Oh yeah,” he said, comprehension dawning at last. “I don’t know why, unless it’s because I keep saying no. I don’t think she’s used to that.”

Kathy’s gaze moved over Dalton. Tall and lean, dark and handsome. Sexier than Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt rolled into one. “I’m sure that’s not the only reason,” she murmured under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

A slow smile spread over Dalton’s face. “What other reason could there be?”

“I thought you didn’t hear what I said.”

He shrugged. “What reason, Kathy?”

She lifted her hand in a vague gesture. “You’re a very handsome man, but I’m sure you already know that.”

“Am I?”

“Well,” she hedged, her cheeks growing warm beneath his probing gaze, “some women might think so.”

“Some women?” He was close, too close. “Are you one of them?”

“Me?” she squeaked.

He took a step toward her, and she backed up, only to find there was no place to go. He had very neatly backed her up against a tree.

“Who do you think?” he drawled softly.

She couldn’t think at all, not with him standing so close. She couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark, but she could feel the heat of him, knew there was no more than a whisper of distance between them. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, feel the warmth of his breath on her face.

“Kathy…”

He leaned toward her. She stared up at him for a moment and then, helpless to resist, she lifted her face for his kiss. This was what she wanted, what she had wanted since she had first seen him. Why fight it any longer? The only regrets she had in life were the things she hadn’t done.

His mouth was warm and firm and gentle, asking not demanding. With a sigh, she melted against him, felt his arms circle her waist, felt the hard length of his body mold itself to hers as he drew her close, closer. Her breath quickened. Fire raced through her veins.

“Kathy,” he whispered, his voice almost a groan. “Don’t kiss me like that unless you mean it.”

“I do.”

“Tell me you want me as much as I want you.”

“How can you doubt it?”

“If you change your mind this time, I think it’ll kill me all over again,” he muttered wryly, and sweeping her into his arms, he carried her away from the schoolhouse.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, not really caring where they were going. Her hand delved beneath the hair at his nape to stroke his neck. Eyes still closed, she kissed his cheek, nibbled on the lobe of his ear. She laughed when she heard him mutter an oath, and then he was setting her on her feet.

She opened her eyes to find they were in a sheltered glade on the far side of the lake. Lacy ferns and shrubs grew all around them. Moonlight shimmered in ribbons of silver on the face of the water. “It’s beautiful.”

“You are,” he said, his voice thick.

“Thank you.”

“Kathy…”

Just her name, yet she heard a hundred and twenty-five years of loneliness, of yearning, in his voice.

He slid his knuckles over her cheek. His thumb traced the outline of her lips, and then he kissed her.

Magic. It could only be magic, the rush of emotion that swelled up within her heart and soul. He was so gentle, so tender, she knew somehow that he was as awed by what was happening between them as she was.

Their clothing disappeared, and then he lowered her to the ground, his shirt spread beneath her.

“Kathy, tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“I might.” His grin was bittersweet. “It’s been a long time since I made love to a woman.”

She smiled, her fingers tracing the muscles corded in his arms.

“I’m afraid…”

“Don’t be,” she whispered.

Cupping his face in her hands, she drew him toward her, lifting her hips in silent invitation.

Wayne had been her first and only lover. She had never been able to imagine making love to anyone else, had always thought she would feel awkward with another man, but there was no awkwardness between them. They melded together perfectly, and she had the feeling that she had been searching for Dalton all her life, that she had been born a hundred and twenty-five years too late and this was Fate’s way of bringing them together.

His hands were eager as they touched and caressed her, his voice thick as he whispered in her ear, telling her she was beautiful, desirable, that he had never felt like this before.

And she believed him, believed every kiss, every caress, every word. It felt too right to be wrong.

She was on fire for him, as eager as he, her body trembling, her hands curious and impatient. She gasped his name as his body convulsed and she clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist, her nails raking his back.

And it was like the first time, filled with wonder and awe.

And fireworks.

She opened her eyes, blinked as a shower of colored lights filled the air. And then she grinned. Of course there were fireworks. It was the Fourth of July.

She slept with her head pillowed on his shoulder, one arm draped over his chest. Watching her, Dalton felt something tighten in his chest. He didn’t know what had just happened between them, but it had never happened to him before. He felt as though he’d been reborn. It was scary as hell.

He loved her. He knew it as surely as he knew the sun would rise in the east, and yet, as much as he wanted to, he hadn’t been able to say the words. He hoped she knew. Women were good about that kind of thing. Hell, they usually knew what a man was feeling before he did.

“I hope you know,” he whispered, and prayed that he would find the courage to tell her before it was too late.

Kathy woke to the touch of Dalton nibbling at her earlobe.

“Hmmm,” she murmured.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Don’t want to.” She snuggled against him, shivering a little.

“Come on, we can’t stay out here forever.”

“Why not?”

He laughed softly. “I’d like to, darlin’, believe me, but I think we’d better get dressed before the sun gets any higher. Pretty as you look with nothing on, I’d hate for anyone else to come by and get a look.”

Kathy’s eyelids flew open. “Oh!” she exclaimed, startled by the discovery that it was daylight and she was lying naked in his arms. “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up last night.”

Dalton shrugged. He would have, but he hadn’t wanted to let her go. Instead, he had covered the two of them with her skirts, then held her all through the night, watching her sleep.

She couldn’t believe she had spent the night on the hard ground. She hadn’t slept so soundly in months, not since…she thrust the thought from her mind. She couldn’t think of Wayne, not now.

She started to sit up, but Dalton’s hand stayed her. “How about a kiss good morning?”

Happiness welled up inside her. He had held her all night, and now he wanted to kiss her good morning. The thought made her ridiculously happy. Leaning forward, she kissed him lightly.

“Hey,” he chided softly, “I know you can do better than that.”

“I thought you were in a hurry.”

“Not that big a hurry,” he replied, and slipping one hand behind her head, he kissed her, long and hard, as though he were staking a claim. And maybe he was.

She was breathless when he took his lips from hers, breathless and yearning for more. But there was no time for that now. She could hear the school bell ringing in the distance.

“Turn your back,” she said.

“What? Why?”

“Please.” She knew she was being silly. They had made love, but it had been dark then. She wasn’t ready to get dressed in front of him, not yet.

He frowned at her. “You can’t be shy, not after last night.” He knew every inch of her, he mused, every delicious curve.

“Please, Dalton.”

With a shrug, he turned his back to her. Her skirt slid off his shoulders, and her gaze was drawn to the broad expanse of his back, to the network of scars that marred his bronze flesh. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he had suffered, couldn’t believe that Lydia Conley had remained silent while her husband whipped Dalton. What kind of woman was she, to watch and say nothing?

“You dressed yet?”

His voice spurred her to action. Gathering her underwear and clothing together, she stood up and dressed, glancing over her shoulder at Dalton from time to time to make sure he wasn’t looking. It was silly to feel so shy, but she couldn’t help it. She had never been promiscuous. Wayne was the only man she had ever been intimate with, the only one who had seen her naked in the light of day, and that only after they were married.

“All right, I’m done.” She smoothed her skirts. Her dress was badly wrinkled, making her wish it was made of a polyester blend instead of cotton.

She could hear Dalton dressing behind her and she was sorely tempted to turn around. She had explored his hard lean body the night before; now she yearned to know if it looked as good as it felt. But she had asked for privacy; surely he deserved the same.

Dalton buckled his gunbelt in place and reached for his hat.

“All right, you can turn around now.”

She smiled at him, then blushed when her stomach growled.

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Come on, let’s go get some breakfast.”

He took her hand and they walked back to town. The stores were just opening. She couldn’t help thinking that Main Street looked like one of the streets at Knott’s Berry Farm—the wooden boardwalk, the hand-lettered signs, the old-fashioned clothing and hats on display in the front window of the general store.

A sign outside the stage office announced that the noon stage would be late due to “Injun trouble”.

“I still can’t believe I’m here,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I can’t believe it myself.”

“What did it feel like for you, when we woke up here?”

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Dalton replied. “One minute I was, I don’t know, light as a feather, and the next, I felt heavy, sort of weighted down. I’ll tell you one thing, having a body sure beats being a ghost.”

“I’ll bet.”

Dalton lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Bless her heart, Martha’s fryin’ bacon. Come on!”

Hyrum Petty and Enid Canfield were already seated at the table when they entered the dining room.

Hyrum’s brows rose as he looked at them; Enid sniffed, as though she smelled something bad.

Kathy looked at Dalton and flushed hotly. There was a leaf in his hair, his clothing was rumpled. She hadn’t given much thought to how they must look; now she realized they probably looked as though they had spent the night doing exactly what they had been doing.

Kathy tugged her hand free. “I need to freshen up.”

“You look fine,” Dalton said.

She shook her head.

“Well, there you are,” Martha Dunn exclaimed as she bustled into the room. “Just in time for breakfast.” She beamed at Dalton. “I made all your favorites. Bacon and eggs and buckwheat cakes. Oh, and some nice fried potatoes. Sit down, eat it while it’s hot.”

Dalton looked at Kathy, then held out a chair. Head high, she sat down and spread her napkin in her lap.

He sat beside her. As unobtrusively as possible, she plucked the leaf from his hair and slipped it into her skirt pocket.

Kathy ate quickly, eager to make her escape. She could well imagine what Hyrum and Enid were thinking. She and Dalton were supposed to be cousins, for goodness sake!

Blotting her lips with her napkin, she placed it on the table and stood up. “Thank you, Mrs. Dunn, that was delicious.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” Martha frowned. “Would you like me to fetch you some hot water?” she asked tactfully.

“Yes, please,” Kathy said, and fled the room, her cheeks flaming.

Moments after she reached her room, there was a knock at the door.

“Kathy?”

“What?”

“You all right in there?”

“I’m fine.”

“I want to leave this morning. How soon can you be ready to go?”

“I don’t know. An hour?”

“Fine. I’ll be back then.”

“Okay.”

“Kathy?”

“What?”

“I…never mind. An hour.”

* * * * *

Kathy glanced over her shoulder, felt a sudden uneasiness as she saw nothing but miles and miles of unbroken prairie behind her. They had lost sight of Saul’s Crossing about an hour ago, and now there was nothing but grass and blue sky as far as the eye could see. It was unsettling somehow. Back home, there was a McDonald’s or a mini-mart or a gas station on every corner. Back home, she’d had a cell phone in her car in case she ran into trouble. Out here, there was nothing. She couldn’t imagine why anyone had ever left the comfort and security of life in the East to brave the dangers of the West, with its poisonous snakes and wild animals, deserts and mountains and rivers to cross, outlaws and Indians waiting to rob and plunder. Had it been up to her, the West would never have been settled.

She urged her horse closer to Dalton’s, reassured by his presence. He would protect her. She refused to dwell on what would happen to her if something happened to him.

It felt good to be wearing her jeans and t-shirt again. She couldn’t imagine spending long hours in the saddle hampered by a skirt and petticoats. She wore a long-sleeved cotton shirt over her t-shirt to protect her skin from the hot prairie sun. She was glad Dalton had reminded her to buy a hat, knowing without it her face would have been burnt to a crisp. She was glad too for the gloves Dalton had thoughtfully provided. They were made of butter-soft leather. Her new boots weren’t as comfortable as the ones she had left at home, but she figured they’d be all right once she got them broken in.

She looked over at Dalton. He was wearing black pants, a dark gray shirt, a blue kerchief, scuffed black boots sans spurs and a hat. There was a rifle in the saddle scabbard; his saddlebags and hers bulged with supplies. There was a bedroll fastened behind the cantle of her saddle.

He met her look with a grin. “You all right?”

Kathy nodded. “All this space…. She made a broad gesture with her hand, encompassing the land around them. “It’s a little…I don’t know, intimidating, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a big country.”

“How long will it take us to find your people?”

“I don’t know. A few days, a few weeks.”

“How long has it been since you were there?”

He thought for a moment. “Thirteen years,” he said, and then grinned. “More, if you count the hundred and twenty-five years that I’ve been dead.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

“Yeah.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“About a year before I died.”

“Were you…I mean, are you close?”

He shrugged. “Close enough to keep in touch. Of course, she wasn’t pleased with my line of work, and every time I went back to see her, she’d start in on how I should give it all up and get married, and settle down.” He grinned. “You know how mothers are. She wants some grandchildren.”

“What about you? Do you want kids?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted a family. Guess I just never found anyone I wanted to settle down with.” His gaze moved over her face, intense, penetrating. “Until now.”

Kathy stared at him. Was he proposing? “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I know I’m not good enough for you.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“It’s true. You’d be a fool to think we could have a life together, and I’d be a bigger fool to offer you one.”

“So, I’m just a one-night stand, is that it?”

“A what?”

“One. Night. Stand. Just good for a quick roll in the hay. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

Dalton scowled at her. “Of course not! You know it was more than that.”

“Do I?”

Dalton jerked on the reins. Startled, the stallion reared, forelegs pawing the air.

Kathy gasped, certain Dalton would be thrown, killed. Before she quite realized how it had happened, his horse was beside hers and he was lifting her from her saddle to his.

“Don’t even think that!” he said. “You hear me? Dammit, Kathy, I don’t ever want you to think that again.” He took a deep breath, blew it out in a long sigh, and then slid one finger down her cheek. “You know it was more than that, don’t you? Don’t you?” he repeated when she didn’t answer right away.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“All right.” She poked him in the chest with her forefinger. “And I don’t ever want to hear you say you’re not good enough for me. And don’t scowl at me like that.”

“You’re talking crazy, girl. I’m a half-breed, a hired gun. Hell, I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking there must be some reason why I could see you when no one else could, some reason why we’re here, together.”

“Yeah? And what might that reason be?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“I doubt it.”

“I think we’re meant to be together, and that this is Fate’s way of putting things right.”

He lifted one brow.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” she warned.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“But you don’t believe it?”

“I don’t know.” He dragged a hand over his jaw. It was preposterous, unbelievable, yet it was the only explanation that made any kind of sense at all. “So does that mean you’re here to stay?”

“I don’t know. But I think we were meant to be together. Your time, my time, it doesn’t matter. We’re together.”

“And that’s what you want? To be here, with me?”

“Yes. If you want me.”

His arm tightened around her waist. “You know I do.”

Happiness spread through her, warm and sweet. With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder. This was where she wanted to be, now and always.

Dalton rested his chin on the top of her head, more content than he’d ever been in his life. Maybe she was right. Maybe they were fated to be together. A one-night stand. He grinned at the thought. She would never be that. She wasn’t like Linette. She wasn’t some cheap crib girl to be had for a night, services bought and paid for. Kathy was a lady. And a lady meant forever.

“Are you going to make an honest woman of me?”

Dalton’s head jerked up. “What?”

“I’m proposing to you.”

“You are?”

“Geez, you’re dense.”

“Well, where I come from,” he said, displaying that roguish grin that made her insides melt like a Hershey left in the sun, “the woman usually waits for the man to do the asking.”