Читать книгу Runaway - Carolyn Davidson, Carolyn Davidson - Страница 13

The small cabin was a welcome sight. A ramshackle building, it was nestled beneath a willow tree next to a small stream. In Cassie’s present state, it might well have been a palatial mansion.

The sky above promised nasty weather, and the smattering of cold raindrops she’d ridden through in the past few minutes had already managed to thoroughly wet Cassie’s shirt. It was enough to dampen her spirits. More than enough.

She shivered, staggering toward the small log shack, just a few steps ahead of Will. One foot snagged on a root, half overgrown with grass and hidden from view, and she stumbled, falling to her knees.

Her head bent, she breathed deeply, then shoved herself to her feet, only to find Will’s big hand clutching her elbow, propelling her forward. Her feet dragged, scuffing across the small porch, Will slowing his steps a bit to accommodate her slower pace. He followed her through the doorway, steering her with a decided lack of gallantry. One arm filled with saddlebags, the bundles from the mule across his shoulder, he edged past her into the dim interior, dropping his burdens just inside.

Cassie met his gaze, attempting a smile of reassurance, her lips trembling as a chill swept over her. “I’ll be fine once I warm up a little,” she said stoutly, rubbing her hands together, all too aware of cold skin and stiff fingers that resisted her attempts.

Will nodded, a flicker of doubt tracing his features as he brushed past her toward the doorway. “I’ll take care of the animals. See if there’s any wood for a fire, will you?” Ducking his head in an automatic motion, he headed back outside, his stride more energetic than Cassie could fathom. The man never seemed to run out of strength.

Riding throughout the night, she’d dozed off more than once, allowing her horse to slow to a walk, falling behind Will as he set a steady pace. His patience had been commendable, Cassie decided. He’d waited for her, neither hustling her along nor fussing at her when she slumped over the saddle horn, half-asleep.

Now she watched as he led the animals to where a pump promised water. A few vigorous movements of the long handle made that idea a vain hope, and Will reached for his water pouch, tilting it to drain the contents into the top of the pump. His mouth curved in a smile of satisfaction as the priming gained results. With a few swift up-and-down movements of the narrow handle, he had a steady stream pouring in abundance from the spout, into the wooden trough beneath.

Their noses bobbing in the water, the three animals drank deeply, then, blowing noisily, they sprayed, tossing their heads. Will stepped back to escape their antics, grinning at their good spirits.

“Are we going to spend the night here?” Cassie asked from the doorway.

“We don’t have a lot of choice right now,” Will answered. His hand lifted to gesture at the leaden sky. “Looks like we’re in for it. The wind’s comin’ up pretty steady.”

Cassie nodded. Getting caught in the rain would be miserably uncomfortable as far as she was concerned. Even this crude shelter was better than being out in the open at the mercy of a spring storm. Wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, she turned to where a fireplace yawned against the far wall of the small cabin. A scattering of wood promised the beginnings of a fire, but not much more. She dropped to her knees on the hearth, gathering the kindling and piling it loosely.

Will’s bundle must surely hold more matches. Quickly she loosened the folds and searched for the small container she’d seen in his hands that first night. It held sulphurtipped matches, safe from the damp, and she lit one carefully, holding it to the brittle kindling. It sparked, then caught, and a small flame sprang into being. Carefully she placed another fragile stick over the glowing wood, smiling as it caught fire. One piece at a time, she fed the flames until every scrap of wood from the floor surrounding her was piled inside the wide mouth of the fireplace.

Her fingers were finally warmed, and she rubbed them together, glorying in the heat. One hand lifted languidly to brush at her cheek, where wayward tendrils fell forward, her untended hair loosening from its braid. Then she sat back on her heels, gathering the warmth to herself, reluctant to leave the small haven of comfort.

It was there he found her, kneeling before the small blaze she tended, her unruly hair and smudged cheeks those of an urchin. And yet there was about her an allure he could not fathom. The soft line of her cheek, lashes shadowing the pale flesh, the profile of feminine curves as she lifted her hand to brush at a wisp of dark hair. Her arm lifting high pulled at the fabric of her shirt, its soft weave revealing the swell of her breast.

He inhaled sharply, pierced by his awareness of the woman kneeling before him. His eyes narrowed as his gaze slid up over the generous curve of her bottom to where her waist was cinched with the length of belt he’d given her.

Desire, hot and consuming, drenched him in its depths. The heat of his arousal was immediate, from the flaming ridge across his cheekbones to the throbbing warmth in his groin. His breath caught again, a rasping sound that drew her attention, and she turned, her eyes wide and startled, as if he’d drawn her from a dream.

As women went, she was far from the most seductive he’d ever seen. Hell, she wasn’t much more than a child, all innocent and unknowing, her face smudged, her eyes anxious, her mouth soft and inviting as she opened it to speak.

“Will?” Hastily she rose, brushing her hands together, then wiping them against the sides of her denim pants. “I was about to go out and gather more firewood.” She hesitated, uneasy as she searched his face, her fingers clenching into fists. Poised as if for flight, she looked away from him, to the doorway, then beyond, where the long branches of the willow beside the house swept the ground.

“The wind’s coming up,” she said in a wispy, small voice, sidling toward the open doorway. “I’d better look for wood before we get a downpour.”

“Cassie.” He spoke her name in a gruff exhalation of breath, his eyes closing for just a moment.

Her gaze skittered from the bleak vista beyond the doorway to clash with his as his lashes lifted. Allowing his mind to fill with her image—slender, bedraggled and all too tempting—he cast aside the caution he’d managed to gather.

“Come here.” He spoke the words—softly uttered, but more than a request nonetheless—that would bring her to him. That she would not heed the implicit order never entered his head. Cassie had put herself under his care.

He watched as she turned reluctantly in his direction, his whole frame taut with the desire he fought to contain. Perhaps just holding her would suffice. He could gather that small body against himself, soothe his passion with the warmth of her soft, resilient flesh, surround himself for just a moment with the female scent that rose from her as an elusive, faint enticement.

“Will?” She stood before him, her eyes wide, her mouth soft, her bottom lip trembling. “What is it? Is something wrong?” Apprehension brought a frown to mar the smooth line of her forehead, and he lifted his hand, fingers smoothing at the lines.

“No.” Abrupt, at odds with the gentle caress he bestowed upon her skin, his voice growled the single syllable.

She flinched beneath his touch and tilted her head to one side. “Will?” Her whisper was wavering, her nostrils flaring as if she scented a danger she could not comprehend.

She was more than he could resist, more than his self-control could deny. His hands met behind her waist in a smooth movement that caught her unaware. He tugged at her, catching her off balance, and she tumbled against him, lifting her hands in an automatic gesture to grip his shoulders. His head dipped, his jaw against her temple, his eyes closing as he deliberately blotted from his mind the gray skies outside the cabin, the dingy interior of the small room.

For this moment, for just these few seconds, he basked in the softness of the woman he held. His palms flat against her back, he urged her closer, forming her to his needy flesh. His heart pounded with a steady, harsh beat, radiating within his body like the sounding of a drum in his ears.

She stiffened for a moment, her breathing uneven, and he felt her tremble against him. Her face turned in the direction of his, tilting back until her mouth brushed against the line of his chin, opening so that he felt the moisture of her inner lips upon his skin. She kissed him there, rising on her tiptoes to whisper a string of soft words against his whiskered jaw.

“What is it, Will? Can I help? Is something wrong?” Her hands released their hold on his shoulders and slid to his nape, gripping tightly against his spine. She curled against him, forming her curves to the firm muscles of his chest, as if she would offer comfort, her fingers rubbing in a soothing rhythm.

A groan he could not stifle rose to his lips. Could she help? The one thing that would be guaranteed to solve his immediate problem was not an option, he admitted to himself ruefully. That this young woman would so innocently offer compassion, unknowing of his instinctive desire for her, was the crowning touch.

“Just let me hang on to you for a minute, Cassie.” The words were muffled as he turned his mouth against her forehead.

She nodded, and his lips brushed her skin in an automatic caress. Probably the only clean spot on her face, he thought, his mouth twisting in an unwilling grin. And even that fact did not deter him. Beneath the smudges, the evidence of her hours on the trail, was the face of a girl…no, the face of a woman who had survived a hard night of riding without complaint. Whose small, compact body was pressed against his, whose lips were temptingly close.

He brushed his lips against her mouth and felt an eager trembling there as she responded, bringing to life a renewed surge of desire rising within him. Casting aside the good intentions he’d vowed to observe, he slid one hand up her back to hold her head in place for his kiss. She murmured beneath her breath, a soft, acquiescent whimper, and his jaw tightened, a sense of male triumph invading his very being.

Against her lower back his hand spread, fingers splayed widely, his palm pressing her firmly against his belly. His arousal met her there and he held her tightly in place, easing the tension of his needy flesh against her groin.

His mouth opening over hers, he delved deep, past the soft lips that parted for his entry, teasing the length of her tongue as it evaded his pursuit. She whimpered, almost a protest Then, inhaling sharply through her nostrils, she joined the game he had begun. Their mouths met with seamless measure, hers opening to match the outline of his lips. Their tongues stroked, languidly touching, lavishly tasting.

Her flavor was like the fine wine he’d tasted once in a fancy place in San Antone, like bubbles and sweetness with a tartness overlaying the whole. He relished the flavor of her, inhaling the scent of her skin, his fingers twisting in her hair, his other hand almost brutal in his strength as he pressed her close. His body surged against her in a primitive motion, muscles taut, his need a barely controlled entity.

And then, with a shudder, he lifted his head, his eyelids heavy as he forced them open, anxious lest he find Cassie’s face a frightened mask. That she had kissed him with fervor was a fact. That she would be fearful of her own actions was a possibility.

Her blue eyes were unfocused, as if she saw him with blurred vision, her cheeks flushed, her mouth open, lips shiny with the residue of their passion. She blinked, peering at him like a newborn baby he’d seen once in a hovel outside Amarillo. Such innocence was not to be believed. Not from the woman who had just met his kiss with impassioned fervor.

“Will? Is kissing supposed to be like that?” Her voice filled with wonder, she blinked again, as if awakening from a particularly delightful dream.

And this was no dream, he decided. More like a nightmare, what with him coaxing her into a seduction he had no intention of pursuing. “It is if the right two people are doin’ the kissin’,” he said, inhaling deeply, tamping down the desire he had allowed full sway for these few moments.

“I feel…” She hesitated, her tongue touching her lips with a tentative gesture. “I’m sort of woozy,” she said finally. “Maybe I’m just hungry.”

“Yeah.” Hungry was the word, all right. He grinned at that thought, easing his body from the contact it craved. He stretched his neck and stiffened his spine, his hands once more at her waist, lifting her to one side.

If the rising wind and the rain that was beginning to fall in earnest would tamp down his urges, he’d edge her from the doorway and do his own wood gathering. The only issue was getting past her without his randy hands taking hold of the temptation she offered.

“I’ll be back directly. You stay inside,” he said gruffly, bending to pick up his hat from the wooden floor. He who was so careful of the wide-brimmed hat that had perched atop his head for the past two years could not even remember it falling from its place.

Her face lit with a relief she made no attempt to hide. “I’ll sort out something for supper,” she offered.

He nodded, hunching his shoulders as he bent into the slanting raindrops. His steps were quick, his hands reaching for dead wood beneath the trees. It was barely dampened by the rain, protected by the trees towering overhead, and he found a double armful within minutes. Probably enough to last the night, if they were careful.

Beneath the small porch he caught a glimpse of more firewood, apparently gathered by an earlier occupant, and he welcomed the discovery with a satisfied grin. Dumping his heavy load just inside the door, he stepped back out to gather up the heavier chunks from under the porch. His shirt clung to his back, thoroughly soaked, and he thought longingly of the warm fire inside.

The small blaze welcomed him as he staggered through the doorway with his burden. Cassie knelt as closely as she dared to the fire, tending the small pot she’d placed in the coals.

“I opened a can of beans from your pack,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, her hair gleaming in the firelight.

This was not going to be an easy night, Will decided, carrying the heavy pieces of firewood closer. He bent, stacking them quickly next to the hearth, then squatted beside Cassie, his fingers working at the buttons of his shirt.

“Can you find me something dry to put on?” His hands were stiff, his movements slow, and he closed his eyes for a moment, soaking in the welcome warmth of the fire.

He heard her murmur of assent as she crossed the room to close the door against the rain. His every nerve attuned to her presence, he flinched at the click of her boot heels as they touched the wooden floor. The swollen wood of the door protested loudly as she dragged it across the uneven floorboards, and then she knelt by his saddlebag. The rustle of her movements had him gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, the better to visualize her as she handled his clothing, sorted through his belongings.

His hands tightened into fists, and he bent his head, aware only of her presence. Her clothing brushed the floor as she rose to her feet, and then he sensed her approach. His heartbeat slowed, his breathing deepened and once more he lifted his hands to undo his shirt buttons.

He stripped the shirt from his body, and unseen hands took it from him. Never had a fire felt so welcome. Grunting his thanks, he stretched out his hands to the crackling flames.

“Your undershirt is pretty well soaked, too,” Cassie said from behind him.

He nodded agreement, his fingers once more working at buttons and buttonholes. He made quicker work of it this time and eased his way from the wet fabric. From behind him, Cassie enclosed his shoulders in the blanket from his pack and he basked in the warmth it captured from the flames as she draped it around his body.

She knelt next to him and reached to stir the beans. “They’re almost hot,” she offered. “We can put them on the biscuits left from breakfast if you want to.”

“That’s fine.” He’d be willing to eat most anything she put in front of him right now, he decided. Between the sound of rain on the roof and the fire crackling in front of him, he was pretty near ready to doze off. If it weren’t for the empty spot in his middle, he’d be content to drop his chin on his chest and spend the night where he sat.

“Here.” Cassie’s hand touched his and his fingers curled around the biscuit she held. Warm beans oozed from its depths and he licked one from his finger, then took a mouthful of the simple meal. He blinked, his eyes gritty with the need for sleep, and chewed slowly, savoring the flavor.

“I never knew beans could taste so good,” Cassie said.

“Hmm.” It was about as much conversation as he could manage. The night without sleep had caught up with him. It was hard telling what time it was, what with the early dark coming on, with the storm overhead. He suspected Cassie was about wiped out, too, even though she’d managed to doze in the saddle a few times throughout the night.

Will swallowed the last of the biscuit. “How many more of those you got?”

“Enough,” she answered, her fingers deft as she split another, scooping on a generous helping of beans from the pot. She handed it to him and he muttered his thanks before he took a bite. Grasping the pot handle gingerly, she turned it toward him, handing him the spoon.

“Here, eat the rest. I’ve had enough.” Settling her bottom on the floor, she folded her legs as she leaned toward the heat.

“You sure?” Will cast her a doubtful glance. She nodded, her gaze captured by the flames. “Here, have a bite,” he offered, holding the spoon in front of her lips.

Her mouth opened obediently and he watched as her lips closed on the spoon. He eased it from her mouth and filled it again, feeding himself the next bite. There was about the small ritual a strange bonding, and he filled the spoon again, lifting it, watching as she ate from his hand. Scraping the last bite atop his final bit of biscuit, he popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly, savoring the flavor.

“Can we sleep now?” Cassie asked, not bothering to cover the yawn that accompanied her question.

Will cast a look around the small cabin. Against the far wall a rudely constructed bunk offered dubious comfort. “Seems to me we’d be just as well off right here by the fire,” he said. “That bed doesn’t look like much, and we’ll be warmer here.”

“I’ll put some more wood on,” Cassie said, rising. “Here’s your shirt, Will.” She dropped it into his lap, then found several chunks of wood to stack over the coals.

He watched as she worked, then, shedding the blanket, he hastily pulled his shirt in place. The fire would dry his trousers, he figured. Taking them off would likely scare the bejabbers out of Cassie.

“Are you pretty well dried out?” he asked, pulling his pack closer, shoving the contents about as he sought a soft spot for his head.

She watched him, her eyes wary. “I’m all right. I’m warm, anyway.” She tugged at her boots, placing them to one side of the wide fireplace. “These should dry out pretty well by tomorrow.” As if she had done all she could to put off the inevitable, she turned to him.

“I’ll roll up in the other blanket. You can sleep closer to the fire.”

He shook his head. “No, we’ll sleep together, right here.” His hand motioned to the space they occupied and he stretched out, the blanket over his shoulders once more. “Bring the other blanket here,” he told her, patting the floor in front of him.

She obeyed, moving silently on stocking feet as she gathered up the dark woolen square from his pack. Lowering herself to the floor, she spread the covering over them both, then settled down in the space he had indicated, just next to the hearth.

He moved to curl his body around her back, arranging the blankets to form a double layer over them as he slid his arm under her head, easing it from the floor. His other hand scooped her closely to his chest and she stiffened for a moment.

“Ease up, Cassie,” he ordered in a rusty growl. “I need to get warm.”

Getting warm wasn’t the issue, Will thought, even as he muttered the words against the crown of her head. He was managing to generate enough inner heat to keep them both going all evening and half the night. He’d be better off if he kept his hands to himself and stayed six feet away from the bundle of temptation he held tucked so neatly against his needy body.

His sigh was deep. He was a glutton for punishment, sure enough. Here he was with a softly curving female in his grasp, his arm fitted around her waist and his thighs cradling her tight little rump. It was a damn good thing he was as tired as he was, or this would be a miserable night.

His arm tightened, eliciting a grumble of protest from the woman he held. “Don’t wiggle, Cassie,” he said, his voice muffled in her hair.

And then his eyes closed, the flames before him rising anew, bathing him with the comfort of their warmth.