Arizona Gold (25 page)

Then it dawned on her.

Ryder.

Evidently he must not have been as far ahead of her as she had thought. He had managed to see her and was teaching her a lesson, but enough was enough. She wanted her clothes back, along with her guns, because if he were mean enough to take them and keep on riding, she was in big trouble.

“Ryder, that’s enough,” she indignantly called out in the stillness. “Give me back my things, and let’s talk.”

She had backed against the tree, arm across her breasts, hand covering her crotch. She felt so vulnerable, which was making her furious. “Do you hear me, damn it? This isn’t funny. Now give me my clothes, or—”

“Or what?”

The man stepped from behind a boulder only a few feet away. His hat was pulled low on his forehead, and a bandanna covered the lower part of his face. And while he wore a holster, he had not drawn his gun. There was no need, for Kitty was unarmed.

“Leave me alone,” she said in a voice braver than she felt as he advanced toward her. “I don’t want any trouble, so get the hell out of here.”

“Soon as I get what I come for, I will.”

Panic stabbed like a knife as Kitty pressed farther back against the tree.

“Wouldn’t of been no need for all this if you’d left the map in your room.”

Fear was shoved aside by rage. “You’re the one who ransacked my room.” She ached to see his face, for surely she would recognize him as someone who had frequented the Oriental, knew Opal, and had heard her ramblings.

“No, it wasn’t me,” he said lazily. “My partner’s the one who did that, and if he’d found it, you wouldn’t be here now. But maybe you’ll be glad you are, ’cause I’m gonna show you what it’s like to have a real man.”

He licked his lips and squeezed his crotch and kept walking toward her.

Kitty waited till he drew close, then lowered her head and ran for him, intending to butt him right in his gut, knock the wind from him, then make her escape before he could rally to his senses.

She had not, however, realized just how huge a belly the man had—huge and hard. She bounced right off of him, and with a vicious laugh he grabbed her by her throat with one hand and slapped her with his other.

Still clutching her neck, he hit her again. She felt herself slipping away in a storm of pain and blackness and struggled to cling to consciousness. If she passed out, he would have his way with her. As long as she could hang on, there was a chance she might find a way to disable him.

Through the haze of anguish that fell like a shroud about her, Kitty heard a second man’s voice.

“That’s enough. Leave her alone. Ain’t no need to beat her to death.”

Her attacker continued to hold her and cackled maniacally, “Oh, I ain’t gonna kill her. Not now, anyways. I’m just breakin’ her spirit so I won’t have to work so hard to get between her legs.”

“If you beat her senseless, she can’t tell us where the map is.”

He gave her a violent shake that set her head bobbing to and fro. “Shit, we don’t even know she’s got it.” Then, to Kitty, “What’d you do with it, bitch? Hand it over, and I’ll go easy on you.”

“She’s got it,” the other said confidently. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have got this far. She knows where she’s goin’, all right.”

“Well, I’m gonna make her tell.”

Kitty’s eyes flashed open in time to see his fist coming straight toward her face, and suddenly she screamed—a long, piercing howl fueled by rage, as strength she never knew she possessed suddenly coursed through her veins.

The villain was stunned, caught off guard, and loosened his hold just long enough for her to make a lunge for the pistol in his holster.

“Watch it,” the other outlaw yelped, grabbing her.

It was a wild tussle, and in the midst of it all, shots rang out, and the men, abandoning Kitty, scrambled for cover.

Staggering, she looked about wildly, trying to figure out who was shooting and from where.

A familiar voice boomed from behind the rocks. “Get out of the way, Kitty. I can’t get a clear shot for you.”

She dropped to her knees at once, at the same time hearing the sound of horses as the outlaws made their getaway.

Ryder scrambled down from the rocks and rushed to where she was slowly getting to her feet. “Are you hurt?” He helped her on up.

“I…I’m fine,” she managed to say, head still throbbing from the vicious blows. Then anger took over. “You double-crossed me, you lying sneak.”

“That’s not true. You’re the one who ran off. When I got back to camp, you were gone.”

“You weren’t supposed to leave till dawn.”

“That”—he grinned to admit—“was a lie. I had to go look for my father’s piece of the map while it was dark.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You would if you knew where I had to go to get it.”

“Then you did find it? But where—”

He shook his head. “Believe me, you’re better off not knowing.

“Anyway,” he continued, “when I saw you weren’t there, I knew what you had to be thinking—that I had double-crossed you, so I went to town to look for you. It took me a while to get there, though, because I had to buy new clothes, get a hot bath, and by then you were gone. I knew, because I went to the livery stable, and your horse was missing. I figured you’d made a copy of the map you gave me like you said you were going to and set out on your own to try to catch up with me. Thank goodness I was behind you instead of in front and heard the commotion.”

Kitty was washed with relief. “Then you didn’t abandon me after all.”

“No, but I should have.” He furrowed his brow in a mock frown. “Especially since I was taking a chance riding back into town now that the soldiers know I’m half-Apache, thanks to Opal. But tell me,” he pressed, “how did those men know to follow you?”

“They’re the ones who ransacked my room. They were looking for my map. They know all about it.”

This time his frown was genuine. “Probably the whole Arizona Territory knows about it, thanks to Opal.”

“She was just frightened for me. Only now she’s angry, because she thinks I won’t give her half of my share like I promised.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Right now we’ve got to keep an eye out in case those men come back and try to track us.”

Kitty was able to smile. “Then we’re still partners?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, dark eyes twinkling as they raked her up and down. “And I like it even better this way.”

Innocently, she asked, “What way?”

He winked. “You naked.”

“Oh, no…” In the excitement she had completely forgotten she was, and began to turn around, arms waving helplessly as she looked for her clothes.

“Over there,” Ryder said, pointing.

With cheeks burning, she ran and put them on quickly. She could feel him watching and cursed herself over and over for having allowed herself to become so embroiled in the situation that she could actually forget she was standing before him without a stitch on.

Finally, she strapped on her holster and turned around. Without meeting his mocking gaze, she said, “All right. I’m ready. And I just hope those bastards come after us.”

“Forget it. We don’t have time for revenge, but”—he pointed to the wound on her cheek—“we’d better take time for you to wash that cut in the river.”

Kitty felt her lips pull in a mysterious smile. “This cut is why I
want
them to follow us.”

Exasperated, he repeated, “I told you—we don’t have time for revenge.”

“Not even for the murder of your father and my uncle?”

His face went tight. “What do you mean?”

She was rocked with emotion. “I saw a ring on his finger when he was about to hit me with his fist—a
turquoise
ring.”

“I don’t understand. How does that prove they were the murderers?”

“When my uncle’s body was found, one of his fingers had been cut off in order to get that ring. I know, because Opal told me about it. My uncle wanted me to have it, and Opal described what it looked like.”

“And you’re sure that ring fit her description.”

“Positive.”

He nodded grimly. “Then we’ll be sure
not
to cover our tracks.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

They had made camp for the night after nearly reaching the spot on the map where they thought the gold might be located. Supper had been a rabbit Ryder had caught with a snare and then spit roasted. Kitty had made beans and tortillas like an expert, and they were finally stretched out lazily beside the dying embers of the fire.

Enjoying the night breeze and the canopy of stars overhead, Ryder seized the first real chance for conversation by asking, “Are you sure you don’t know who those men were?”

Kitty thought hard, then said, “I didn’t see their faces, and the voices weren’t familiar. They could have been any of hundreds of men that passed through the Oriental every night.”

“But they knew about the map,” he said resolutely. “Probably everybody in Tombstone does by now, thanks to Opal. It couldn’t have been anyone but her who told them, because I sure never confided in anybody—till you,” she added sharply.

There was the hint of a smile on his lips. “Still don’t trust me, do you?”

“Not really. After all, you’re actually two different people.”
And also devastatingly handsome
, she thought as her gaze dropped to his bare chest. He had taken off his shirt, and his muscles rippled and gleamed in the light of the campfire.

“So which one don’t you trust?”

“I haven’t made up my mind,” she laughed to say, “because I can’t decide which one you are. Probably both of you, though.”

He laughed with her. “Well, you’re a good one to talk. First you were a wild-haired, husky-voiced boy, and then you turned into a beautifully soft woman with a voice like melted butter.”

“And you don’t know which is the real me?” she teased.

He rolled to his side to grin and wink. “I think I found out back in the cave.”

Kitty glanced away, feeling her face turn warm. She sat up, cleared her throat, and abruptly changed the conversation. “So where did you find your father’s map?”

“Like I said before—you don’t want to know.”

“Actually I’m more interested to find out why it’s such a big secret…why you seem determined not to tell me.”

“All right then.” He crooked his arm and propped his head on his hand. “I found it in Boot Hill.”

She was stunned. “Why on earth would your father hide it in a cemetery?”

“He didn’t. It was buried with him.”

Kitty tensed. “Are you saying it was still on him? But the murderers would have searched him thoroughly.”

“They didn’t know where to look, which was under the sole of his boot. I remembered he always kept a little money there so he’d never be caught without any. He’d pry off the sole, stick the money in, then tack it back in place. So when I heard how he said with his dying breath that he was taking his secret to the grave with him”—he shrugged—“I knew what he meant.”

“So why didn’t you tell me that? All you said was that you had an idea where it was, which made me think you really didn’t know.”

“I didn’t think you needed to hear that I was going to have to dig up his grave and open his coffin to get it. That’s why I had to make sure you had your half before I went that far.”

Although macabre and horrible to contemplate, Kitty began to understand why things had happened as they had. “So that’s why you had to do it at night…why you left me.”

“Exactly. I couldn’t dig him up in daylight, when someone might see me.”

“That also”—she swallowed past a knot of revulsion—“explains why you had to take the time for a bath and get new clothes.”

“Right again.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” she murmured, her heart going out to him for having to perform such a grisly task. “It must have been awful.”

“I tried not to think about it and worked fast. But now we’ve got the whole map, and, after studying it, I think we’ll reach the area of the strike tomorrow. Then the real work begins, because we’ve got to try to figure out what the Bible verse means.”

Kitty had also scrutinized the map after it was finally put together. “I can see the reference is the book of Genesis, chapter 18, verse 27. There was something about dust and ashes, but I can’t make out the words.”

“I couldn’t either. His half is in pretty bad shape.” Kitty felt a wave of defeat. “And I don’t suppose you happen to have a Bible in your saddlebag.”

“No. I should have thought to get one before I left town, but I was in a hurry to find you and didn’t think about it.”

“Then we’re out of luck.”

“Maybe not.” He leaned to pick up a stick and stir the fire, sending a spiral of ashes skyward. “Maybe it’s not as complicated as we think. Dust and ashes could mean the strike is hidden near a chimney or stove of some sort.”

She did not share his optimism and sarcastically asked, “How many chimneys have you seen since we left town, or, for that matter, how many cabins?”

“They had a shack. It wasn’t much of one, according to my father, but they threw it together to have shelter in the winter. You may not know it, but they’d been digging for several years.”

“I knew it had been a while. What I never understood was why they didn’t go ahead and record their claim and be done with it. Why all the secrecy? It seems to me if they had a rich strike they’d have gone about it in the right way—dug deep shafts and had carts and mules, men to help. I heard miners talking in the saloon sometimes, and they all dreamed of being able to finance big operations to bring out the mother lode, as they called it.”

Ryder’s eyes took on the mischievous twinkle Kitty had come to know so well as he made the barb, “The reason they didn’t do all that is because they trusted other folks about as much as you trust me.”

She fired back, “If they had the same reasons I have, then I don’t blame them.”

His laugh was loud, robust, as he rolled to his back once more. “Hell, woman, how can I expect you to trust me when you don’t even
like
me?”

“Sometimes trust and like go together.”

The humor slipped from his voice. “I can’t see that I ever mistreated you…even when you were a captive.”

“That was because of your mother. She wouldn’t allow it.”

“That’s not why, Kitty,” he said quietly. “Our band of Apache is more civilized than others. Besides, we didn’t want a slave. We’re renegades, and all we’re trying to do is survive. And you know the only reason I wanted the gold—and still do—is to take care of my people till they can get settled in Mexico and start a new life. Otherwise, I’d never have led a raid on a stagecoach or anywhere else.”

“So let’s find it quick,” she said, uncomfortable to feel as though she had been soundly chastised. “So we can go our separate ways.”

But even as she spoke, Kitty felt a stirring in her heart that made her wonder whether that was really the way she wanted it.

“Tell me more about your people,” she urged to end the tension that had sprung between them. She also liked to hear him share Indian folklore, for she had become fascinated with the Chiricahua Apaches and their sad plight.

So he talked, on into the night, telling her stories of war and famine along with peace and plenty, and she listened intently.

When he finally lapsed into silence, with apparently no more yarns to spin, she said, “I hope your people will find what they’re looking for in Mexico. I’ll think about you and wonder.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said so low she had to strain to hear him, “You could go with us.”

She had stretched out on the ground, propping her head on her saddle to stare up at the silver-velvet night as he talked. Now she turned to stare at him in wonder. “What did you say?”

“I said you could go with us.”

The idea had never entered her mind, and she was astonished at the suggestion.

“Where else do you have to go?” He made his tone light, as though it were an idea born of politeness rather than what he had begun to feel for her the past weeks.

Kitty was still reeling and stammered, “Well, nowhere…yet. Opal wants to go to California. I don’t know…”

“It would make my mother happy,” he said, thinking how it would make him even more so. “I can tell she likes you very much.”

Kitty smiled. “She liked Billy Mingo.”

“She likes Kitty Parrish even more. And so do I,” he added soberly.

A nervous laugh escaped her lips as Kitty pointed out, “I’m not Apache. I’d never get used to your ways.”

“So you could teach us yours. Besides, once we get settled, I plan to build a school and find someone to teach the children all they need to know, and that someone could be you. Times are changing, Kitty, for all of us. The old ways will fade away. It’s time to learn new.

“There’s a lot we could teach each other,” he added as he moved closer.

She had been staring into the fire but brought her gaze up to meet his eyes as she felt a little shiver within.

He leaned to tilt her chin with outstretched fingers. “I’ve fought against what I’ve come to feel for you. I want you to know that. But I’m burning inside, Kitty, like I’ve never burned for any woman in my life. I don’t know what it means, but I’d damn sure like to find out.”

Kitty was mesmerized and could no more have drawn away from him than change the winds or turn the tides. Once more she was his captive, held by invisible chains she did not wish to break…even though she told herself she should. She meant nothing to him but raw, savage pleasure, yet she could not deny herself this time of ecstasy.

“Tell me to stop,” he commanded huskily. “Because I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swore I wouldn’t touch you, that we’d work together and nothing more, but damn it, being so close to you, wanting you, is driving me crazy. So tell me to go to hell, Kitty, if this isn’t what you want, too.”

For answer, she bent her head back, offering herself to him as she slipped her arms about his broad shoulders.

Smiling at her surrender, he cupped her cheek in his hand, gently stroking the cut made by the outlaw’s stolen ring. “I want to take care of you, little one,” he murmured, his thumb following the bow of her lip. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t ever be afraid…”

Leaning forward, he captured her mouth to taste the sweet quivering beneath his.

“Tell me you want me,” he coaxed, tongue flicking across her lips. “Tell me you want me, or I’ll stop and never touch you again, I promise. I can’t let you think I forced you…”

Kitty stared at him, swallowing against the lump in her throat. Never had she seen such tenderness in a man’s face, but there was something else, something more that made her heart swell to bursting. “I do want you, Ryder,” she whispered tremulously. “I think I always have—as you, as Whitebear. I felt desire for the both of you, even though I tried to fight it…”

He pulled her gently down to lie beside him, as his mouth skimmed along her throat, lips emphatic and unbelievably warm. His tongue flicked over her flesh, making it quiver as her body seemed to melt against the length of him. Through the thin cotton of her blouse, her breasts and her nipples strained toward his hands, which were dropping lower.

Suddenly he took her lips in a kiss so ravaging that spirals of fire lanced through her. As his fingers tore at her blouse, his tongue swept into her mouth.

She arched into him, yielding to the kiss, at the same time thrilling to feel him touch a breast and tease the nipple with his finger. He plucked it to a hard, tight bud, and waves of longing swept over her.

And then she was struck by the driving need to touch him, as well. Her hands moved down his back, then around to trace the rock-hard lines of his chest and on to the flatness of his belly.

She heard his groan, deep in his throat, and then he was undressing her, and she was helping him, anxious to be naked and vulnerable to his sweet assault.

“So beautiful,” he said thickly as he pulled back to rake her with lusty eyes in the fire’s glow. “Had I seen you this way when you were my slave, I’d have never let you go and kept you naked all the time…”

His fingers went to her waist, pulling her roughly against him to feel the hardness of his need. “See what you do to me?” He slid it between her thighs, working to and fro, one hand moving to cup her firm, rounded buttocks, to lock her in his embrace.

His lips burned, his tongue devoured, and Kitty felt flaming heat consume her body.

He continued to hold her tight while moving a hand upward to once more cup and mold each breast in turn. And then he was lowering his head to feast and suckle, and her cheek lay against his thick, dark hair as she cradled his head and whimpered to urge him on.

“I’ve never wanted anyone more,” he whispered, his tongue circling a nipple before drawing in as much of her breast as he could take.

She slid her hands down to grip his shoulders, then ran her fingers along his back to feel the heavy cords of muscle tighten at her touch.

She felt him move to skim her flesh, downward to her navel and on below.

A shudder sparked in her loins to feel his long, slim fingers dance through the hair at the juncture of her thighs, then ease them apart to slip inside.

“No…oh, no…” she whispered.

He brushed her mouth with yet another fiery kiss as he plunged a finger in and out to send hot, damp tremors up and into her belly. He paused to caress the swollen bud hidden within her sex and tease, “Are you telling me you don’t want this? Are you telling me to stop? I promised I would, little one. Just say—”

“Yes…I mean, no,” she cried, thinking how she should be embarrassed, but hot, burning need was taking over, sweeping her helplessly into a storm surge of emotion, and with the deep, thrusting rhythm of his finger she could only melt into moaning sighs of pleading for him to go on, to take her all the way to paradise.

But he was enjoying the honeyed torture he was inflicting upon her and continued to make her writhe and sob with pleasure beneath him.

Pushing her onto her back, he bent her legs to prop them on his shoulders as he positioned himself between.

Kitty closed her eyes and threw her head back in readiness to feel the first, hard thrust of his manhood. Then her legs stiffened, and she gave a little cry to feel not his shaft but his tongue instead.

He began to circle the tiny nub with his tongue, then drew it between his lips to lick and explore. He was, she realized in sweet-hot panic, devouring her. She thought surely she would die if he did not stop. Hot needles of pleasure that were almost painful stabbed to the very core of her being.