When a Texan Gambles (29 page)

He wanted to ask her again if she’d decided that now might be a good time to start a real marriage. Their days together could be running out. He thought of promising her it would be nothing like what she had before. But Sam had finally found one skill he wasn’t sure of. What if she felt nothing when they made love? What if he were as poor a lover as she was a shot? He tried to comfort himself by thinking the few women he’d been with had not complained. But that logic offered little peace when he knew they were being paid by the hour.

He smiled. Sarah seemed to enjoy his touch at dawn, and he’d never forget the way she kissed him before they left the hotel room. Still the question nagged at him. Maybe the trick was making her want him. He tried to relax on the bedroll. It wouldn’t be an easy job when all he could think about was wanting her. He wished he had the right words to say, but he had always thought of words as a waste of time between a man and a woman.

As she did every night, Sarah untied her long braid and combed her hair out. Then she unlaced her moccasins and set them beside his boots. She slipped beneath the covers only inches from him.

He waited, thinking he should have told her she was pretty before it got too dark to see. He thought about complimenting her on something, but all he could think of was her shooting. If he said anything good about that, she’d know he was a liar.

“Sam,” she broke the silence. “You think you could kiss me good night, if it’s not too much trouble?”

He rolled to his side and spread his hand out on her middle. Gently he touched her, fighting a desire to grab her and bury her beneath him. He concentrated on the rivets on her pants that were bumping against his fingers. The denim trousers Levi Strauss had made for men were rough to his touch, but Sam knew the softness that lay just beneath. She’d pulled the cinch straps tight in the back, but they were still too big in the waist for her.

Sam leaned close and smelled her hair. “Someday, when the time is right, how would you feel if you had a child inside of you? My child.”

She didn’t answer. The intake of her breath allowed him to easily tug her shirt free from the waistband. He slipped his cool fingers beneath her shirt.

He lost himself in the way her body moved as she breathed. “I wouldn’t mind having another child,” she finally whispered. “Someday.”

He leaned and kissed her mouth so lightly, he heard her sigh.

“Do you mind, Sarah, if I touch you while I kiss you good night?” Her body was already telling him the answer he wanted to hear.

“You won’t go beyond a touch, Sam? You swear?”

“I swear.” He lowered his mouth to cover hers as his fingers tugged the first rivet free on her trousers.

For a while he kissed her as though he planned to do so all evening. Each time they both learned more about pleasing the other. He tasted the inside of her mouth and enjoyed the way she shuddered with pleasure. One at a time he freed the buttons of her shirt until it parted to her waist, but he didn’t push the material to reveal her flesh.

His hand slid down to find hers and he brought her fingers to his shirt, letting her do the same to him as he’d done to her. She was nervous, fumbling with the buttons, but he didn’t care. When she finished, she slid her hands over his chest.

“I like the feel of you without bandages covering you,” she whispered.

“I like the feel of you with nothing but my hand covering you,” he answered and felt her laughter against his throat.

Suddenly he sat up and pulled her with him. He crossed his legs and lifted her into his lap, her legs spread on either side of his waist. His hands gripped her thighs and shifted her until she was as close to him as their clothes would allow.

“Sam!” She tried to pull away.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you or break my word.”

Her head gave a nervous nod. She trusted him enough to continue into the unknown.

One hand held her tightly in place as the other cupped the back of her head and drew her mouth to his. He kissed her fully, holding nothing back, releasing her only long enough to shove the cotton of their shirts aside. Her soft breasts brushed his chest, taking his breath away with pleasure.

At first she jerked, not knowing what was happening to her senses, then suddenly she met his passion with her own. The knowledge shook Sam. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. Her arms circled his neck and held tightly as she trembled.

He gently kissed her throat, brushing away her hair as he moved down. She melted to his touch, leaning back until the firelight danced off her bare flesh. He wanted to see her, but the need to feel her heart against his with nothing in-between was too great. He pulled her back against him.

Her arms rested lightly on his shoulders as she let him move her as he pleased. Slowly she relaxed, trusting him as she drifted with the feelings, newborn and raw with need.

When he placed her back on the bedroll, she stretched and smiled as his hand moved from her throat to her trousers. Watching her, he unfastened another hold on the pants, then another.

Her hand covered his. “No, Sam,” she whispered. “Leave them on.”

“All right, love,” he answered against her ear. “As long as I can touch you.”

He moved down to boldly claim one of her breasts with his mouth, and she began to sway in a dance as old as time. Her hand rode atop his fingers as he slid beneath her waistband to the warmth below.

She cried out as he touched her lightly at first, then bolder.

He kissed her mouth tenderly. “Tell me to stop, Sarah. Push me away.”

His hand touched the very soul of her.

“No,” she answered, out of breath.

He kissed her then, deeply. Moving his tongue in gentle strokes as he moved his fingers.

She broke the kiss, needing to breathe, wanting to tell him how he made her feel, but all that would come were sighs of pleasure and sounds of pure joy.

His mouth crossed back to her breast, and unbelievably the passion doubled.

Suddenly lightning struck her very center, and she felt her body tighten.

Sam pulled her against his side and held her then as she drifted slowly back to earth. He didn’t touch her, or even kiss her. He just held her, letting her body tremble against his, he took the shock of her passion the same way he took her reaction when she’d fired the gun.

When Sarah could finally talk, she realized he’d pulled her clothes back together and was very still beside her. One hand rested on her, the other circled into her hair.

“I never knew anything like that,” she whispered. “Sam you’ll never believe what happened to me.”

He didn’t answer and she realized she’d been so wrapped up in the feelings washing over her that she hadn’t given a thought to him.

“Oh, Sam.” She stretched and kissed his jaw. “Did you know that would happen?”

He pushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I thought it might.”

“Would you do that again sometime, please?”

She felt laughter rumble in his chest. “I’ll think about it.”

She placed her hand over his heart and rested her head on his shoulder. “Good night, Sam.” His name was almost lost in her yawn.

“Good night, Sarah.”

He listened to the soft sound of her sleeping as he stared up into the night. He’d made her happy. If he could do it with a touch, he could do it when they made love. Slowly he was getting to know her, getting to understand what she wanted and how she liked to be touched. The only problem was if he had to court his wife much longer he would go insane with need for her.

Sam didn’t bother to close his eyes. Since he married, he’d given up sleep.

TWENTY-FOUR

SARAH AWOKE WITH THE SUN FLICKERING THROUGH the trees. The fire was low, but still hot, and Sam’s bedroll lay over her, keeping her snug in the cold morning air. She stretched and rubbed her eyes.

Sam was gone.

For a moment she wanted to cuddle down into the covers and remember how he’d kissed her, how he’d touched her, but the knowledge that he’d left her sometime in the night frightened her.

“Sam,” she said, praying that he’d answer. “Sam!”

She pulled the blankets around her and sat up. “Sam!”

Something moved in the trees.

“Sam. Where are you?” She closed her eyes. “Sam!” she cried. “Don’t leave me!”

The noise in the trees increased, and she opened her eyes to see Sam running toward her. He knelt down and pulled her, covers and all, into his arms. “Sarah! What is it?”

She buried her face against his chest and tried to calm her heart. “Oh, Sam. I thought you left me.”

He gripped her shoulders and pushed her a few inches away. “When are you going to stop thinking every time I’m out of your sight that I’m abandoning you? I was just watering the horses.”

She felt like a fool. She wouldn’t blame him for leaving her; she was sure she was about as near to crazy as she could get. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled her back into his arms and chuckled. “First, you don’t like me, decide I’m no good, and now you don’t want me out of your sight. You’re one confusing female.”

He brushed her tears away with his thumb and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “Your lips are puffy this morning. If I was a bettin’ man, I’d say you were kissed long and well last night.”

“I was.” She smiled. “Remember when I asked you why folks kiss on the mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Well, forget I ever asked. I know the answer.”

Sam grinned. “Don’t look at me that way, or we won’t make any miles this day. We need to ride fast to make up for the time we lost yesterday. I want you to tell me when you get tired.”

She nodded and reluctantly left his arms.

Half an hour later they were crossing the open country between Dallas and Fort Worth at breakneck speed. Sarah loved it. She couldn’t explain it, but each day she was with Sam she felt stronger. Somehow, maybe because he never complained about her being fragile, she no longer saw herself as such.

At noon they stopped by a stream and finished off the rest of Ruthie’s supply pack.

“That’s it,” Sam said, folding the flour sack and sticking it in his saddlebag.

“I’ll shoot us a rabbit for supper,” she promised.

He laughed. “We’ll starve.”

By late afternoon Sarah was too tired to talk. Sam found a quiet spot and made camp. The morning had been warm and sunny, but the day ended cloudy with the promise of rain. Though she looked tired, she helped him with the horses, enjoying taking care of her own mount.

When Sam unloaded the saddles and supplies beneath an overhang, Sarah sat down to rest for a few minutes before building a fire. She leaned her head against the saddle, and the next thing she knew, a crackling fire startled her awake.

Sarah sat up, realizing she must have been asleep for some time. Sam had covered her with a blanket. Stretching, she saw him standing on the other side of the campfire watching the night.

“How long have I been asleep?”

He turned. “Long enough for me to build the fire and catch supper.”

“Rabbit?”

“No, I’m saving them for you to shoot. I caught a few fish and opened a can of beans. Your plate is there close to the fire, if you’re hungry, but I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook.”

“Thanks.” Sarah felt guilty for not doing her share, but the food tasted delicious anyway. “You’re a great cook,” she said between bites.

“When we get to my place, I’m kind of hoping you’ll take over the job. Except for the few things Ruthie bakes or makes me, everything I’ve worn or tasted in years has been store-bought. Can you make pie?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “I promise.”

“I’m looking forward to that.”

She paused. “Sam, do you truly have a place, or is it just a dream?”

“It’s a place. I bought it for almost nothing a few years after the war, but every time I had a little money extra, I’d fix it up.”

“Tell me about it.”

He walked around the fire and sat on his saddle. “The house is not too big, but it’s got a nice kitchen and a loft that would sleep several kids. It’s got a new barn and a corral. The well is good, too, and I can walk to the fishing hole. There’s a little town nearby. It’s not much right now, but folks around are talking about getting a school started.”

Sam watched her closely. In all their days together neither of them had spent much time bringing up the future. “I thought I could set you up there. You’d be safe, no one around there knows me. The times I’ve done work there, I’ve always told anyone who stopped by that I was just a hired hand. I thought about making sure you were well stocked for the winter this year, and next spring you can plant a good garden.”

Sarah watched him. “If I’m there, where would you be?”

“I’d still do my job, but I’d have a place to come to when I’m tired and need rest. You’d have your house, and I’d have a safe place to hide out.”