Читать книгу Thunder Horse Redemption - Elle James - Страница 8

Pierce’s heartbeat thundered along with the storm-ravaged sky as he gazed into Roxanne’s eyes. It took all his willpower and a little help from Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit, to break eye contact and focus on the task ahead. “We need to get the filly back to the ranch.”

Roxanne glanced back in the direction from which they’d come. “The trail will be too slippery to get out of the canyon.”

Pierce knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay with Roxanne any longer than necessary. “We have to try.”

She shook her head. “No. We can’t risk it. Not when the filly is so scared to begin with. At least not until the rain stops. It wouldn’t be safe for us or our horses, either.”

He knew she was right. “Get the halter hanging on the side of my saddle.”

“Are you sure you have her?”

The filly bucked beneath his hold. Pierce refused to let go, his hands clamped around her neck. “Yes,” he said between gritted teeth. “Get it.”

Roxanne raced for the saddle, snatched the halter and a lead rope and returned at a slower, more steady pace so as to not spook the foal. She slipped the straps over the pony’s nose and buckled the clasp behind her ear. Once she had the lead snapped onto the ring at the side, she nodded. “I’ve got her.”

Slowly, Pierce let go of his hold around the filly’s neck.

Immediately, the young horse reared.

Roxanne dug her heels into the ground, but the little horse dragged her through the mud anyway.

Pierce grabbed Roxanne around the middle and held on. With his other hand he reached for the lead rope.

Together, they wrestled the filly to a standstill, Pierce’s hand closing around Roxanne’s on the rope.

Not until he had the foal under control did Pierce note how close he was to Roxanne. Her drenched body pressed against his, the cold rain doing nothing to cool the heat pooling in his loins.

His hand curled around her hip, dragging her closer. He sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of honeysuckle, the knot in his gut tightening. “Why did you have to come back into my life?”

Her body stiffened, the hand beneath his convulsing around the rope. “Trust me, I had no intention of crossing paths with you.” Despite her harsh words, her voice shook.

“Then get away, and stay away from me.” He pushed her away from his body, both hands wrapping around the lead rope.

“I can’t, until this storm clears.” With her back to him, she walked several steps away, then swung around to face him. Hands perched on her hips, her blue eyes flashed through the rain running down her face. “Pending clear skies and dry trails, we’re stuck with each other. Not my choice, but I’ll deal with it. For now, we need to find shelter until this storm blows over.”

“Got anything in mind?” The foal bucked and Pierce gritted his teeth, holding on.

“There are some caves somewhere around here. My brother…” Her voice caught and she looked away. “We used to camp close by when we fished in the river.” She grabbed her horse’s reins and Cetan’s and left Pierce standing there holding on to the filly.

He could choose to follow or continue arguing with the rocks in the rain. For a moment he debated staying put, convinced the cold rain seemed a whole lot cozier than holing up in a cave with an angry ex-fiancée. One look at his charge and he knew the filly deserved better. Besides, until the shooter was caught, Pierce knew he wasn’t going to be comfortable having his eyes off Roxanne for long, no matter how hard it was to look at her and know that she’d never be his again. Pierce fell in step behind Roxanne and the two horses, dragging the stubborn little beast with him.

Within fifteen minutes of trudging through rain and mud, Roxanne located the first of a series of caves she’d spent many summers camping in with her brother and father. The memories they evoked made a cold lump rise in her throat, reminding her why she could never forgive Pierce Thunder Horse.

A jagged crevice, wide enough for two horses to stand abreast, allowed them to enter without ducking, bending or otherwise forcing the animals through. The opening also allowed a moderate amount of light inside. The cave’s interior, carved out of solid rock through years of erosion, was the size of a barn.

Getting the filly inside took a little more time and patience, but with Roxanne’s help, Pierce maneuvered the frightened animal through the passageway, tying her to a boulder large enough to anchor her.

“I’ll be right back. I need to radio my brothers and let them know we’re okay and will stay here until the rain lets up.” He went back through the crevice to stand at the opening of the cave, far enough away from the horses the static wouldn’t bother them. The distance from Roxanne helped him to think as he made contact with his brothers. Too bad he couldn’t come up with any solutions to keep Roxanne safe and also far, far away from him.

TIRED AND COLD TO THE bone, Roxanne dragged the saddle from Sassy and let it fall to the floor. What had happened to her strength? She felt as weak as a kitten. Determined to pull her own weight, she lugged the saddle up onto a large rock to dry. She used the saddle blanket to rub down the horse, then stretched the damp blanket over another rock.

Pierce reentered the cave.

“They didn’t try to come down the trail after us, did they?” Roxanne asked.

“No. But they were about to when I called. They’d been searching the area and were fortunate enough to find some bullet casings before the rain hit. I told them where we were, and sent them back to the ranch. They’re not going to find anything else out there in this weather. They’ll contact the sheriff’s department and let them know about the casings.”

Once both horses were cared for, Roxanne trudged her way through the darkness, searching for anything they could use for firewood. When she and her brother had last been inside the cave years ago, they’d left enough fuel to burn for the next visit, knowing firewood was scarce on the plains.

In the shadows farther away from the entrance, she located the ring of stones they’d arranged for the fire. That was expected. Less expected was what she found at the center of the circle—charred firewood, discarded cans and plastic wrappers that had definitely not come from her or Mason.

“Someone has used this cave. By the looks of this trash, fairly recently.” Roxanne lifted a plastic wrapper and something shone brightly beneath, catching the little bit of light from the cave’s access. “Interesting.” She pushed the object out of the dirt. “It’s a bullet.” From the shooter? Well, who else could it be? This cave was on Carmichael property, and there certainly wasn’t anyone who had permission to be using it.

Pierce caught her hand as she reached for the shiny metal. “Don’t. We might be able to lift prints. And let me have that plastic wrapper.” He tore the tail of his shirt off and picked up the unexploded round and the wrapper using the piece of fabric, tucking the wad into his jeans pocket.

Roxanne rearranged the ring of stones, searching for any other items of interest. “You think the man who camped here is the same man who shot at me?”

His lips thinned into a straight line. “We won’t know until the state crime lab can perform the forensics on the casing and compare it to the ones my brothers found.”

“Hopefully, the sheriff made it out to the ranch and has started the investigation.”

Pierce’s jaw clenched at the mention of the sheriff.

Cold slithered across Roxanne’s skin, reminding her of what she’d been searching for in the first place. She inched her way to the darkest corner, hoping any critters who might have called this cave home had scurried out, preferring the warmth of the summer prairie to the cool darkness. She found the stash of tinder and dry wood they’d left well before her brother’s death, still hidden behind a boulder.

As she emerged into the meager light carrying an armful of firewood, Pierce had pulled out the bag of sandwiches and trail mix his mother had insisted on him bringing. When he saw what Roxanne held, he dropped the bag next to the stone ring and relieved her of her burden. “You shouldn’t be carrying that. You might get that gash bleeding again.”

She thought about arguing but decided it wasn’t worth it. Besides, her arm really did hurt. If he wanted to take care of the fire himself, that was fine with her.

Within minutes a cheerful fire burned brightly, lighting even the darkest corners of the cavern, chasing away the shadows and spiders.

Roxanne laid her saddle blanket on the ground beside the flames to dry, and then collapsed in the dirt close to the fire, grateful for the warmth as the chill of damp clothing set in. Her teeth clattered together, the ache in the back of her head intensifying as the painkiller she’d taken earlier wore off. She rubbed the knot at the base of her skull, kneading the soreness, hoping to ease the ache in the absence of medication.

“Here, let me,” said a brusque voice from behind her, and her fingers were brushed aside.

Warm, callused hands curled around her neck. Thumbs avoided the lump, smoothing the hair and skin in gentle circles.

Tense muscles relaxed, the soreness fading as Roxanne pushed aside the fact that Pierce was the source of her relief. For a moment, she let the heat of his fingers chase away the chill inside, leaning back into his broad chest.

The thumbs stilled, and his hands froze against her skin.

A shiver, originating at the base of her spine, rocketed all the way up her back, shaking her violently. Once the trembling began, it didn’t abate.

His hands jerked away from her and he stood, backing up several steps. “You have to get out of those wet clothes.”

“And w-what am I s-supposed to wear in the m-mean time?” she quipped, the chattering of her teeth taking the barb out of her response.

“Wearing nothing is better than keeping the dampness against your skin. The moisture conducts heat away from your body.”

“I know that.” Still, she couldn’t quite stomach the thought of undressing in front of him. With everything that had happened with the shooter and her injury, she felt too vulnerable. Common sense told her that she needed to get the clothes away from her skin, but every instinct protested. She couldn’t let herself be weak where Pierce Thunder Horse was concerned, lest it create a leak in the dam of emotions she’d held in check since he’d returned.

Stubbornly, she wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them up against her body for more warmth. Her body’s trembles turned into bone-shaking shivers, so violent she thought she’d rattle apart.

“Good grief, woman. It’s not as though I haven’t seen you naked before.” He grabbed her hand and urged her to her feet, standing her in front of him. His hands clamped down on her shoulders and he rubbed them through the damp cotton of the T-shirt she wore.

“You’re freezing. I suspect shock is setting in from your fall and injury. If we don’t get you warmed up, you could have some serious problems, and we both know that there’s no way I could get you some help until the weather clears.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” She pressed her hands into his chest, pushing against him. “I can undress myself.”

He let go of her, his lips twisting. “Go for it.”

Her fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt. They shook so hard, she couldn’t manage to pull it up over her torso. “I don’t know…what’s…wrong…” Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could stop them, ran down her cheeks. Now she couldn’t even see what she was doing.

“Give it up.” Pierce’s whispered words stirred the wisps of hair beside Roxanne’s ear, his breath warming her cold skin.

“Never,” she said, though her hands fell to her sides. Giving it up would have to mean trusting him, and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t! But when he reached out to her again, she found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to stop him, either. She’d been cold for so very long…and Pierce was always so warm.

Deft fingers made quick work of tugging her shirt up and over her head, easing it past the wound on her shoulder and the back of her scalp.

Roxanne’s breath lodged in her throat and her gaze traveled upward to connect with the darkness of the Lakotan’s eyes. Months of sorrow, of love lost and families betrayed couldn’t begin to melt away in one look.

She wanted to say no, wanted to shake her head, push him away, stay strong all on her own, the way she had for months. But God help her, she also wanted to say yes, to relax and let someone else take control, maybe even take care of her for a little while.

In the end, she didn’t say anything at all. Neither did he. Instead, his lips lowered, so slowly she had plenty of time to resist, to turn away and run.

But she didn’t.

EVERY THOUGHT, NERVE, beat of Pierce’s heart centered on Roxanne. Her fiery red hair lay wet and curling against her face, her mouth opened, her tongue flicking out to slide across her lips.

He bent to capture her full bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.

The lace of Roxanne’s bra rubbed against his shirt. The urge to rip aside the fabric swelled inside him. He had to touch the full, rounded softness of her breasts, to smooth his hands over the swells, rediscovering the curves and warmth of Roxanne’s naked skin.

He buried his face in the curve of her neck, nipping and sucking at the pulse beating wildly there.

When Pierce realized she was just as affected by him as he was her, he continued his assault, tossing her shirt to the floor. He unclasped her bra, easing the straps over her shoulders and down her arms, his gaze following its progress as her breasts sprang free. He cupped one in his palm and touched the rigid nipple with the tip of his tongue, lost in the taste of her.

Her chest rose on a gasp, her head falling back. Roxanne’s hand reached out to circle Pierce’s neck, bringing him closer so that he could suck the nipple into his mouth, pulling hard.

Her other hand groped for the top button of his jeans, fumbling with the hard metal rivet. His head rose and he stared down into her smoky blue gaze, seeing the woman he’d fallen in love with, the woman who was his equal, his soul mate, the only one for him. He pulled her hard against his chest and held her, giving in to the way it felt to have her back in his arms. He wanted her so badly his entire body shook with his need.

He had difficulty forcing his thoughts beyond the moment. If he followed his base instincts, he’d throw caution to the wind and take her there, in the darkness of the cave, their naked bodies writhing in the firelight.

But if he did that, she’d never forgive him. When they both came to their senses, Roxanne would remember all the reasons she had to despise him, all the reasons they would never be a couple again, never have a future together.

Pierce dragged in a deep breath and let it out, loosening his hold on her.

This was Roxanne. The woman he still loved with all his heart. The sister of one of the men whose death was his fault.

Pierce couldn’t change the past or undo what had happened to Roxanne’s brother. He couldn’t stop her hating him and hadn’t been able to keep her from leaving; nor had he tried. Today was the first time they’d managed to even have a conversation since ending their engagement, and it had been more than enough to show him how angry she still was. Right now, she was cold, and scared, and hurting and she was willing to let his touch make the world go away for a while, but it wouldn’t last. Making love to her wouldn’t change anything. She still hated him and no matter how perfect she’d been for him, Special Agent Pierce Thunder Horse was the wrong man for her.

He tugged her bra straps up over her shoulders and eased them both down to sit near the campfire, holding her close to share his body warmth.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” she said, her voice not much louder than a whisper.

“No. It shouldn’t have.” He didn’t try to kiss her again.

She leaned her head against his chest. “It won’t happen again.”

“Count on it.” He held her into the night as she fell into a troubled sleep. She clung to him, her body shaking, her head twisting back and forth as nightmares disturbed her slumber. Because of her possible concussion, he had an excuse to wake her from her dreams every two hours.

In the small hours of the morning, Pierce spooned her body against his, his gaze on the dying embers of the fire, his thoughts swirling around the shooting, the dirt bike, Roxanne and the bullet and wrapper they’d found in the cave.

Sleep escaped him with her body close to his and the wad of evidence in his pocket. The more he mulled over everything, the more dread filled his chest, crushing him with worry.

Whatever Roxanne had stumbled on that had caused the shooter to attack, it was much bigger than some idiot taking potshots at wild horses.

If he wasn’t mistaken, the piece of plastic and the claylike substance clinging to it wasn’t a candy wrapper for gum, but the packaging used around plastic explosives.