A Promise of Roses (8 page)

"Well, there was Bobby Spencer. But that hardly counts."

"Why not?"

"He was six years old.” She turned her head to avoid seeing Lucas burst into another fit of mirth. To his credit, he kept his laughter under wraps. But his voice wavered a bit, and she knew he was fighting a chuckle.

"Six?"

"Yes, he was six. And I was seventeen. He used to follow me home from Sunday services to bring me flowers. His mother had to come collect him more than once."

"That's a cute story, but I still don't believe that nobody has at least
tried
to court you. I'd have bet the railroad payroll that you had to beat callers off with a stick."

"Nope.
I suppose Caleb might have had something to do with it. He does have a way of towering over people and making their knees knock if he so much as looks at them sideways."

"I know the feeling."

"Really?
Someone was tall enough to intimidate you?"

"Not since
I
was six years old,” he said, grinning. “I was talking about you. You have a glare that can be so
cold,
people might want to start striking matches."

"And has it chilled you?"

"Once or twice,” he said. “And you've got the staff of this hotel convinced you're a truly dangerous woman."

She gasped. “That's not true."

"Sure is. That poor chambermaid was quaking in her boots when I came up the stairs."

"Well, if you hadn't handcuffed me to the bathtub, I wouldn't have had to put up such a fuss."

"No, you'd be twenty miles from here by now."

"I told you I wouldn't have run away."

"Of course not.
You like being in my company, especially knowing that I'll put you in jail at the first opportunity."

"Things could be worse,” she said.

"How so?"

"I could have been kidnapped by Frank.” The very thought made her skin crawl.

"He was a sight, wasn't he? How many different bugs do you think lived in that mangy hair?"

"Ugh. I don't want to know."

Lucas laughed. Then he pushed back his chair and rose. “Were you planning to go to bed soon?"

"I'm not very tired,” Megan said, shifting to set both feet on the carpet.

"That poses a bit of a problem, then,” he said with a frown.

"What problem?"

"I need to go out, and I can't leave you alone without cuffing you or tying you up."

"Where are you going?” She stuffed her hands under her legs to keep from fidgeting.

"To Big Springs."

"Why can't I go with you?"

"
It's
better that you don't,” he answered vaguely.

"Why are you going?"

"You know why."

"Because you think that's where Silas Scott is?"

"If he's not there now, he will be soon. He won't leave the area without visiting Nelly."

A wave of fear washed over her at the thought of Lucas confronting Scott. “Can't you just tell the law where to find him? It would be so much safer."

His jaw locked. “No."

"Lucas,” she said, rising. “It isn't worth it. You could be hurt.
Killed.
And then what would it matter if you were the one to finally track him down?"

"What's it going to be?” he asked, turning away.
“Rope or cuffs?
I'll have to tie both hands if I use rope, only one if you choose the handcuffs."

"You don't need to use either. I won't go anywhere."

"Pick one, Megan. I don't have all night. Where do you want to be for the next few hours?"

"Can you at least let me get ready for bed first? I don't want to sleep in these clothes."

"Make it fast."

She darted behind the screen and shed the skirt and blouse. Lucas hadn't thought to buy a nightgown, and sleeping naked under the present circumstances was absolutely out of the question. So she left the chemise and drawers in place.

"Close your eyes, please,” she called.

"Not on your life,” Lucas returned.

"At least turn around. It's not gentlemanly to make a lady parade by in her unmentionables."

"Blasted unmentionables again,” he mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing.
I'll turn around, but keep talking so I know where you are.” He moved to the dresser, facing the door.

"Are you looking?"

"No,” he lied, watching for her reflection in the mirror.

"I'm coming out now” she warned.

Lucas watched as she stuck her head around the screen and checked to see that his back was turned.

"Start talking,” he said to keep her attention away from the mirror. God only knew how devastating her wrath would be if she discovered his secret.

"All right.
I'm coming out from behind the screen now. Don't look."

"I won't."

"I'll climb into bed, get under the covers, and then you can put on the handcuffs. I'd really rather you didn't, though."

He watched as she crept across the room, reached the bed, and jumped onto the mattress, quickly pulling the sheets up to her neck. He had already touched her bare flesh, even suckled her breasts, and she worried that he might see her in her drawers. She would be none too happy if she found out he'd watched her get into those drawers in the first place.

"You can turn around now."

He waited a second,
then
did just that. “Get comfortable,” he said. “You'll have to stay like this for a while."

She wiggled around, rearranging the pillows. “All right,” she said, raising one arm toward a bedpost. “Cuff me."

What in hell had possessed him to bring Megan along? Lucas asked himself for the hundredth time. He should have simply reported back to Brandt and told him to go after her. She hadn't suspected that anyone knew of her tie to the payroll bandits, so she wouldn't have been likely to run. Brandt could have talked to the Leavenworth marshal, gone down to the Adams Express, and taken her into custody. But no, Lucas thought He'd had to be some big hero, bringing in the leader of the outlaw gang and killing Silas Scott all in one fell swoop. But Megan had turned out to be more trouble than she was worth.

Lucas swore and urged his horse into a faster lope.

Still, he wouldn't have traded the sight of Megan tucked up to her ears in bed for anything. She'd looked almost like a little girl waiting for her parents to come wish her good night.
Until she'd reached toward the bedpost, and the blanket had fallen to reveal the full swell of her breasts.

He'd wanted to say to hell with Silas Scott, throw off his own clothes, and crawl under the covers with her. But he'd retained just enough of his senses to secure Megan and get the hell out of the room. In his whole life, no one had ever tempted him as much as Megan Adams did.

Remember Annie!
his
mind screamed.
Sweet Annie.
Quiet Annie.
Your wife, the mother of your child.

Annie had been a good wife, always willing to open her arms and allow Lucas his husbandly rights. Still, he had never wanted Annie the way he wanted Megan. And he'd never felt she truly enjoyed making love.
Tolerated it, perhaps even found fulfillment a time or two.
But she had never thrown her head back and called his name—the way he envisioned Megan would. She had never let him make love to her in the kitchen while biscuits baked. Sex was to be had only in the bedroom after they retired.

He pictured Megan being game anytime, anywhere. He already knew she possessed a wellspring of hot, wild passion. Now he wanted the chance to taste that ecstasy. He wanted to watch her flushed face as she found her pleasure.

He mumbled under his breath and slowed his horse to a walk. Dismounting, he tethered Worthy to the lowest branch of a nearby tree. He checked both Colts to make sure they were loaded before starting toward the lone cabin in the distance. The rickety building stood surrounded by small trees and shrubs, washed in moonlight.

Lucas circled the shack to make certain there would be no surprises that might foil his plans. He spotted a horse tied at the front and frowned. Scott didn't ride
a paint
. Where was his old, scarred black gelding?

Maybe Scott's mount had floundered or gotten worn out. There was no law that said a man had to stick with the same horse his entire trip across the state. Lucas shook off a nagging thread of doubt. He pushed up on the balls of his feet and peered in the tiny square window above his head.

A small, grimy cook stove littered with pans and dishes hunkered in one corner of the room. Against the far wall, two figures groped and rolled around on a narrow cot. A dirty sheet hid all but their legs and the groans of frantic lovers on a creaking
bedframe
.

Lucas went to the door and waited until the noises ceased. Blood pounded in his ears. His heart raced.
Finally.
After chasing Silas Scott for so many long, tortured years, he would finally be able to stare down the barrel of his gun and shoot the bastard right between the eyes.

Annie and Chad would finally be at peace.

He would be at peace.

With a low growl, he raised a foot and kicked in the door, oblivious to the crash it made as it bounced against the wall. The occupants of the bed sat up, startled, grappling for the stained sheets. The woman shrieked. The man held up his hands in surrender.

Lucas lowered his gun a fraction of an inch, his muscles contracted in rage. The man in bed with Nelly was not Silas Scott. He was a kid, no more than eighteen by the looks of it.

"Get your clothes and get out,” he said through clenched teeth.

The young man grabbed his pants from the floor and started struggling to get them on.

"Dress on your way,” Lucas ordered. “Leave it there,” he said when he saw the boy reaching for his gun belt.

The kid's face contorted in fear and embarrassment, but he did what he was told, clutching the pile of clothes in front of him as he ran out of the shack. Lucas kept his eyes trained on Nelly but held the door open until he heard the boy's horse gallop off.

Having had time to compose herself, Nelly sat across the bed, the sheet covering her from breast to hip. She ran one foot along the length of her other leg and smiled.

"You didn't have to do that, honey. I could have had him out of here in two shakes and still been ready for you."

"Where's Silas?"

Her smile wavered.
“Who?"

"Don't play games with me, Nelly,” he said in a barely controlled voice. “Scott wouldn't come this way without dropping in to see you."

"What do you want with him?” She sat up a little straighter

"I'm going to kill him. But that shouldn't surprise you. I imagine a lot of people would pay good money to see the bastard hang. Now tell me where he is."

"I don't know."

He took a step closer, aiming his gun at her heart. “Don't test me, Nelly. I'm not in the best of humor these days, and as far as I'm concerned, killing you would be good practice for when I finally do meet up with Scott."

"I don't know where he is."

One side of his mouth lifted in a grin. He cocked the hammer on his Peacemaker.
“Too bad.
There's a shortage of good whores in these parts."

"Wait!” she cried. “He came through here earlier. The son of a bitch wanted a quick tumble before he got back on the trail.
Said he was headed for Wichita."

"You'd better not be lying to me, Nelly. If you are, I'll be back."

"I
ain't
lying. I don't owe Silas a thing. He told me ten years ago he was
gonna
take me away and make me his wife. But I'm still here."

Lucas released the hammer and slid the gun into its holster. He watched Nelly McFadden a moment longer,
then
turned for the door.

"Hey, mister.
When you find Silas, tell him I said I hope he burns in Hell."

"I'll do that,” Lucas said, touching the brim of his Stetson.

Lucas slipped into the hotel room well after midnight. He discarded his boots and gun belt in the dark, not bothering to light a lamp.

He climbed into bed, still fully clothed, leaning across Megan's sleeping form to remove the metal cuff from her dainty wrist. She mumbled incoherent words under her breath and rolled to her side. Tucking her head into his shoulder, she threw an arm over his midriff. He watched
her,
sure she would awaken at any moment and run screaming from his nearness.

Several minutes passed. He relaxed as best he could with her body rubbing against his and tucked her more fully into the crook of his arm. The thin material of her chemise did little to keep his mind from wandering, and his body quickly followed the forbidden path.

He closed his eyes, adjusting his internal clock to wake him in three hours. That's about all the time he could spare before getting back on the trail after Scott. God help Nelly if she'd lied to him.

Megan muttered several long sentences, mingled with
sawlike
snoring. The only words Lucas could decipher were
steak, money
, and
bastard.
He was thankful he didn't understand the rest.

She inhaled deeply and snuggled closer, drawing one leg up until her knee rested just below his groin.

Forget about Nelly McFadden, he thought, trying to keep his breathing even. God help him to resist the soft, fascinating woman in his arms.

"Get up."

Megan moaned and covered her head with a pillow.

"Get up, Megan. We've got a lot of miles to put behind us today."

She cracked open an eye and focused on Lucas, who sat with his back to her, tugging on his boots. It took less than a minute for her to register the fact that the room was still dark. Not even a tiny shaft of light filtered in through the drapes.

"What time is it?"

"Four."

"In the morning?” she squeaked.

"Come on, we've got to get moving."

She rolled to the other side of the bed. “Leave me here,” she groaned.

The mattress shifted as he stood. A smile touched her lips. He was such a sweet man to let her sleep.

"Up!” she heard him bark, and then a draft of chill air hit her body.

She sat up, rubbing her arms. Lucas stood at the foot of the bed, holding the blankets that he'd just yanked off her.

"Give those back,” she ordered.

Instead, he dropped the bedcovers to the floor and tossed her clothes into her lap. “Your shirt and trousers were waiting outside the door when I got back. They're clean. Get dressed."

"Where are we going?"

"After Scott."

Her heart skipped a beat. “I thought you went after him last night."

"He'd already left.” Lucas tightened the strings of his holster around his thighs,
then
moved to the door. “Look, I don't have time to explain it right now. I'll be at the livery, saddling our horses. Be dressed and in the lobby with your things in ten minutes—or I'll come up here to collect you."

The door closed behind him. Megan wasted no time in following his orders. She didn't even bother removing the silk chemise and drawers but threw her clothes on over them. She bound her hair at the nape of her neck with a fraying pink ribbon she'd had since childhood. It took her several minutes of painstaking work to get all her belongings stuffed into the one set of saddlebags Lucas had left.

He had been thoughtful in buying her so much. Her eyes had stung with tears when she'd seen the small bottle of rosewater on top of the pile of undergarments. No one had ever given her anything that special before. Oh, she had always been provided with perfumes and anything else she wanted, but by her parents. It felt different when the gift came from a man.
A very handsome, rugged man.
Megan refused to let the moment be ruined by the knowledge that that same man had kidnapped her and was even now keeping her prisoner.

She threw the bags over her shoulder and started out of the
room,
looking back one last time to be sure she hadn't forgotten anything before heading downstairs.

The lobby was deserted. No clerk sat behind the high counter. It suddenly hit her that she had a perfect opportunity to escape. How hard could it be to sneak out the back of the hotel? There were probably a dozen good places she could hide until Lucas rode out of town. He certainly wouldn't waste time searching for her. Finding Silas Scott was more important to him than turning her in to the law.

She glanced at the doorway that most likely led to the kitchen, then out the back of the building. But her feet didn't move. No matter how loud it reverberated through her head that now was the time to run, she couldn't make a move.

"Megan."

The voice startled her. She swung around to meet Lucas's hard gaze. He stood inside the double front doors, feet apart, hands on his hips. A guilty blush crept up her neck as she worried that he might read her earlier thoughts.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

He moved forward, taking the saddlebags from her. “Let's go."

The horses stood at the hotel's hitching rail, looking every bit as awake as Megan felt. “Don't worry, girl,” she said, patting the mare's neck. “Lucas and Worthy will lead us, and we can sleep."

Lucas helped her mount, then went to his own horse. “We'll start out at a pretty quick pace so we can cover a fair amount of ground before the sun comes up. Then we'll slow it down to a walk to keep the horses from tiring out."

"Where are we going?” Megan asked again, hoping that this time he would answer.

"Wichita."

"Wichita!” she almost screamed. “That's more than a hundred miles away."

"Yep, it is. And the sooner we get going, the sooner we'll arrive."

"Oh, God,” she moaned as Lucas kicked Worthy into a lope. She desperately wanted to turn back the clock and take advantage of that lost opportunity to run away.