Carolyn Davidson – Runaway (страница 9)

Tying the reins to a hitching rail near the back door of the big farmhouse, Will shot her a glance. “Wait here. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Cassie nodded, then turned to the brown mare. She lifted one hand to touch the side of the animal’s jaw, felt the flinch of alarm as the horse responded to the unaccustomed handling. “It’s all right, girl. It’s all right,” she murmured beneath her breath, feeling a measure of bravery as she increased the pressure of her stroking.

“You ride much, ma’am?” From behind, the raspy voice startled her and Cassie jerked. The mare whinnied, tossing her head, and Cassie turned quickly.

The tall man from the corral had followed them, and now he eyed the young woman before him, her face flushed from the sun and no small amount of anger. “She’ll settle down,” he said quietly. “You married to that cowboy?”

Cassie swallowed, wary of the lie she must tell. Her chin tilted as she considered the man who watched her. “Will Tolliver’s my husband, yes,” she said finally. “I’m Sarah Jane Tolliver.”

“You’re not in trouble, are you, Sarah Jane Tolliver?” The eyes watching her narrowed a bit, taking on a speculative gleam as he awaited her reply.

Cassie stiffened, her gaze meeting his. “No sir, mister. I’m not.”

“I’ve got a daughter about your age, girl. I’m not sure I’d want her ridin’ around the country dressed in a man’s duds, drawin’ the eye of every cowhand and stray Indian.”

Cassie’s mouth firmed, her jaw tightening at his words. “That Indian in the barn didn’t hurt me.”

“You didn’t answer me, girl. I asked if you do much ridin’.”

“Not much, lately. But Will says I can handle her all right.” Cassie drew in a deep breath. “Mister, that Indian in the barn was trying to help me.”

“He was part of the problem, miss. He’s already on his way.”

She flinched at his words, but subsided, aware that nothing she said would make a difference.

His dark eyes gave her one more measuring look before he turned to the house. “Here comes your husband now, ma’am. I told him to get some grub from the cook.” His long fingers reached up to sweep the hat from his head and he nodded once in her direction. “A pleasure to do business with you folks. I’m only sorry I had those roughnecks on my crew.”

“What did he say to you, Cassie?” Will had helped her astride the saddle, adjusted the stirrups and snugged her moccasin-clad toes into them. Now he mounted his stallion, leading her horse behind him until the ranch was almost out of sight.

Cassie held fast to the saddle horn, riding the easy gait of the mare, aware of her swishing tail and the tossing of her head. “I don’t think he believed you, Will. He wanted to know if I was really your wife.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I lied, sort of.”

“I’ll bet you blushed. Did he believe you?”

Cassie’s mouth tightened and she unfastened the reins he’d looped over the saddle horn, holding them firmly in her right hand. “I don’t lie well,” she admitted.

He turned to flash her a look of sober admiration. “I’m glad to hear that. My mama always said a man’s word is his honor. If I have to start pickin’ apart everything you tell me, we’ll be in for a hard time together.”

“My mama always said that lies multiply like flies. You have to tell another to hide the first, then another…” She caught her breath with a sob. “Let’s not talk about mothers, all right?”

Will urged his stallion into a faster pace and cast a quick glance to check on Cassie. “You’d better leave those reins alone and let me lead your horse for now. We don’t have time to talk about much of anything. We need to put some miles between us and Texas.”

The darkness surrounding them drove Cassie close to the small campfire. She’d unrolled the blanket Will had assigned her and snuggled it around herself, her head resting on one corner of it. He’d chosen to sleep behind her instead of across the clearing, and her awareness of his presence was more than enough to keep her eyelids from closing. As were the mental images that insisted on floating through her mind. Memories of her mother, dying yet determined to keep her daughter free of the man who watched like a vulture from the corner of the room. Memories of blood, crimson against the pale flesh of her hands. The loneliness of her flight beneath the shadows of midnight, amid the night sounds. And now the image of the two men who had put their hands on her today.

“Cassie?” Raspy, his voice invaded her thoughts, a welcome invasion, she decided, given the turn they had taken.

She rolled to face him, finding herself tucked up neatly against his chest. Drawing in a breath of surprise, she scooted back a bit, only to be captured by a long arm that snagged her waist, holding her firmly in place.

“Don’t move, Cassie. Just hold your little butt still.” His voice was raw, as if he held some dark emotion under fragile control. His arm squeezed her gently, as though to soften the words.

“I didn’t realize you were so close!” She blinked, fearful of the long length of him, his broad chest appearing to have expanded in size with its proximity. Her knees drew up in an instinctive gesture and she found herself nudging the V of his crotch.

Catching another breath of surprise, she attempted to straighten her legs, but he halted the movement, his hand sliding down from her waist to settle with a promise of hard strength against the backs of her thighs. She gasped at the intimacy of his touch and pushed at his chest.

“Hold still, girl,” he said roughly, breathing harshly.

“I didn’t mean…I just…I didn’t know you were so tight behind me,” she told him, her whisper turning to a wail of protest as she felt embarrassment and panic nudging her, warming her cheeks.

“Hush, Cassie. You’re all right” His fingers eased their grip, his hand moving to rest against her back.

She stilled in her efforts to move away and relaxed the hold she’d managed to maintain on the blanket. Peering up at him, she found him unsmiling, his eyes shadowed, the dark outline of his whiskers hardening his visage. His gaze was intent as his arms enclosed her, one beneath her head, his hand buried in the length of her hair.

She watched in silence as his head tipped, lowering toward her, then held her breath. His mouth opened just a bit, and suddenly it seemed safer to shut her eyes. The touch of his lips against hers came as no surprise, yet at the same time filled her with amazement No one but her mother had ever kissed her, and those sweet, loving caresses had in no way prepared her for the sensations that gripped her now.

His scent was masculine, a combination of leather and sweat, but his breath was clean, like a fresh breeze. Against her lips, his were warm, moist and moving. With a barely discernible rhythm they touched hers, soothing the tender flesh of her mouth, as if he were coaxing her to join him in this venture.

He nudged at her, his teeth touching her firmly closed lips, and she heard another muted groan as she backed from the contact.

“Did I frighten you, Cassie?” he whispered against her lips, a sardonic tinge accompanying the query.

She stiffened, indignant at the humor inherent in his tone. “I’m not afraid,” she quavered, clearing her throat quickly. “I just think you’re taking privileges I haven’t offered.”

“Ever been kissed, Cassie?”

He moved his lips against her once more, nibbling, like a rabbit in a patch of lettuce, and, stifling a giggle, she relaxed a bit.

“By my mother.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he told her, glowering in the faint light shed by the campfire, his arms tightening around her.

Her giggle bubbled forth again and she bit at her lips, her breath catching in a half sob. “You laughin’ at me?” He leaned back, the better to see her face.

“No, of course not,” she denied, fearful of the tears that seemed to be hovering just behind her lids. Her words were shaky as she spoke on an indrawn breath. “I just…you just…you made my lips tickle when you bunny-kissed them.”

“Bunny-kissed! What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

He rolled from her. Damn, he’d do well to keep his hands to himself and away from the bundle of innocence he’d managed to get himself tied up with. Horny as a bull in a pasture full of heifers, he fought the need that surged in his groin.

She was watching him, drawn up into a defensive ball, her lips tightly pressed together. He tucked his hands beneath his head, visibly relaxing, purposefully willing her to do the same, praying for the ache in his male parts to subside.

“Bunnies?” The single word of inquiry was a rasping whisper.

Her words were halting as she struggled to explain the game she’d played in years gone by with her mother, peering at him as if she would read his expression in the flickering firelight. “I’ve only ever been kissed by her,” she confessed softly.

Will drew in a breath. Then, shifting, he rolled to his side and reached for her hand, clasping her fingers. “Don’t let me set you to running, Cassie. I’ll leave you alone.” Much as the promise cost him, he vowed silently to bear it in mind. “You’re probably one of the better things that’s come my way since I left home,” he told her quietly.