Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (24 page)

Tentatively, Katie raised her head and peeked through the leaves. There was an open window just a few yards away. Through it she could see Aaron Rush moving about, opening cupboards and drawers, apparently looking for something. Armbrewster stood in the middle of the room, his expression skeptical. Then he turned his back to the window, and Rush walked over to join him.

Were they looking at Tsing Tsing Yee’s egg? Frustrated, Katie strained to hear what they were saying.

Finally Armbrewster’s voice carried to her on the faint breeze: “I’m prepared to pay handsomely—” But the rest was lost.

Bolder now, Katie convinced herself that the two men were far too preoccupied to notice any activity outside the cabin. She simply had to get close enough to see Aaron Rush in possession of the egg, otherwise she would return with nothing but more charges based solely on speculation. On a rush of adrenaline, she crawled from her hiding place and, head down, approached the cabin. She was nearly there when a rabbit jumped a few feet away, causing her to gasp involuntarily.

“What was that?” said Armbrewster.

Katie scrambled to her feet, trying to decide which way to flee, and for a moment her eyes met those of Aaron Rush.

“You!” he shouted. “Boy! What are you doing out there? Wait!”

She turned to run just as he burst out the cabin door, a revolver in his hand. Certain that death was imminent, Katie ran blindly through the woods. She could hear Rush’s heavy footsteps behind her, and his words echoed in her ears.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!” A shot rang out each time he uttered the threat.

Every breath Katie took burned. Her legs trembled beneath her as she ran, waiting for the next bullet to hit her in the back, waiting for the fiery pain that would end her life. And as she thought of Jack and all his efforts to keep her from danger, tears scalded her cheeks, caking in the dust that covered her.

“Stop, boy!” The gun cracked again.

Katie felt as if her knees were about to buckle when suddenly she was being hoisted into the air. A horse surged forward beneath her. She leaned against a broad chest, while a strong male arm grasped her securely beneath her breasts. The hand that held the reins was heartbreakingly familiar.

“Jack,” she breathed in disbelief.

“Hang on and don’t speak,” he replied tersely. His arm tightened around Katie’s midriff.

They rode recklessly through the woods, narrowly missing trees.

Birds scattered before them, and an occasional pine bough grazed their sides. Finally, after what seemed an eternity to Katie, Jack reined in his horse and turned down toward the river.

“Good work, Byron,” he said, leaning forward to pat the stallion’s neck.

The south fork of the Stanislaus shimmered invitingly in the sunlight. Jack brought Byron to a stop high on the riverbank, amid a stand of cottonwood trees. Unceremoniously he lifted Katie up and dropped her to the ground, then dismounted. She stood off to one side, too shaken and frightened to speak, watching as Jack led Byron to the river to drink, then tethered him to a tree. Katie wondered what had become of Willoughby.

“My horse...” Her voice was a croak.

He was silent for a while before replying coldly, “Worried about him? Perhaps you ought to have given a moment’s thought to Willoughby before you tied him to a branch and left to rush blindly toward certain death. As it is, I sent him home. He seemed glad to go.”

“I suppose he’ll find the way.”

Jack walked toward her. “Certainly you couldn’t have returned him, and if I hadn’t set him free, Rush would have found him by now. Your identity wouldn’t have remained a secret very long. Anyone could have told him who owned that horse.”

“Jack... I—” The words lodged in Katie’s throat.

“Yes?” He was standing in front of her, his eyes like chips of green ice, his mouth set dangerously.

“Thank you. For everything. You—you saved my life.”

He turned his head. “I’m too angry and tired to talk to you about it now. I’m going to wash up before we head back, and I suggest that you do the same.”

“Yes. Of course.” At a loss, Katie watched as he walked down to the riverbank and began to strip off his dusty clothing. Did he intend to
bathe
? Jack tossed his boots and shirt onto the grass, then began to peel off his snug-fitting buckskins. Katie turned away, then peeked just in time to catch a glimpse of hard male buttocks and long, muscular legs as he waded into the river and disappeared below the surface.

Jack swam underwater a good distance out, then broke the surface with a shake of his head, sending droplets of water flying in all directions to shimmer in the sunlight. It looked wonderful to Katie, who had never felt more in need of the sort of refreshment he was enjoying.

“Hurry,” he called. “We haven’t all day.”

“But...” She flushed.

Jack nearly reminded her that he already had an intimate knowledge of her naked body, but such remarks didn’t suit his mood. “Very well, I won’t look. Will that suit you?”

Half shielded by a cottonwood tree, Katie shed her boots, trousers, and shirt, but she couldn’t bring herself to remove her chemise and drawers. Her hat came off next, and, on a whim, she unbraided her hair and let it fall free. She wanted to feel it floating around her on the surface of the water.

Jack was enjoying himself as Katie gingerly approached the river’s edge. He let the current pull him a ways downstream, then swam back against it, apparently oblivious to her presence. Slowly she waded into the cool water, savoring the pleasant shock of the chill as she took herself deeper. Finally she submerged altogether, then popped back out into the sunlight, ebony hair streaming down her back.

“You might as well take those underthings off and hope they’ll dry a bit in the sun before you have to dress,” Jack called. “Right now they aren’t concealing your body, you know. Wet batiste is provocatively transparent.”

His choice of adjectives made her blush. Glancing down, Katie saw that he was right: she could see right through the gauzy cotton which clung now to her breasts. She stood there a moment, considering. Her underthings were sopping now, and she didn’t relish the prospect of wearing her scratchy old clothes without them.... Sighing, Katie pulled down her lace-trimmed drawers and draped them over a tree branch that hung low by the water’s edge. The sensation of the cool water on her flesh was pure bliss.

The chemise gave her a bit more trouble. The pearl buttons refused to budge from their tiny, wet buttonholes, and Katie soon grew frustrated trying to unfasten them. She’d only managed two when she moved her foot impatiently and came down on something razor sharp.

“Ow!” she screamed, aggravated tears welling in her eyes. Lifting her foot, she saw blood oozing into the water from her big toe. “God’s ears!” she cried, borrowing one of Brian’s expletives.

Jack watched for a moment as she thrashed about. Then, when she fell backward and disappeared, he swam over.

“Are you all right?”

Katie’s face had just emerged from the shallow water. She tried to stand but stepped on her injured foot and let out another yowl of pain. “No! I’m not all right!” When she pushed her hair from her eyes, Jack saw that she was crying. “This has been the worst day of my life!”

“I can assure you,” he replied dryly, “that it hasn’t been a favorite of mine, either.” Reaching out, he put an arm around her waist for support. “Don’t cry. Let me take a look at that foot.”

“No! I’m not decent!” She pulled the sheer, wet chemise over her breasts and tried not to think about the fact that, under the water, Jack’s hand was resting on her bare hip.

“I said I wanted to look at your
foot,”
he repeated patiently.

It hurt so badly that Katie complied, still weeping in exhausted frustration. She lifted her foot out of the water and held on to his shoulders with one hand as he bent down to inspect her cut.

“It’s not bad,” he pronounced, pulling a tiny shard of glass from her toe. “I think you’ll live.”

Katie’s tears subsided as he continued to hold her foot, his hand sliding down to gently massage her instep. To her surprise, his touch sent a current of intense pleasure coursing all the way to her inner thigh. She stared at Jack’s wide, brown back and square shoulders, her gaze lingering on the curls at the nape of his neck. Suddenly she found it hard to breathe. “Jack, if you hadn’t been there today, he would have killed me.” The words spilled out of their own accord. “You were right, right about everything. I should have listened to you. You have every right to be angry with me.”

Jack released her foot, straightened, and looked down at Katie for a long moment before gathering her into his arms. “I just couldn’t let anything happen to you, Kathleen,” he said softly. “I was angry because you’d put yourself in so much danger.”

When his hand stroked her back, then pressed her against him until their hips met beneath the water, Katie felt as if a dam had burst inside of her. She melted against Jack’s strong body and opened her mouth to receive his kiss.

Chapter 17

October 16, 1864

Jack’s mouth captured Katie’s full, ripe lips, and their tongues met and caressed in a feverish reunion. She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her arms wound around his neck as she pressed nearer, and in the chill water, the warmth of her belly nurtured his erection. When she felt him stiffen and rise against her, Katie was utterly lost, consumed with desire. Their hearts pounded in unison as they devoured one another in a frenzy of passion.

The rest of the world slipped away. Katie’s reality centered on Jack—the taste of his mouth, the sure touch of his fingers, the warm, strong, living presence of his body—and the currents of energy that flowed between them. It was more than desire or lust: each kiss, each caress, was charged with intense emotion.

Jack’s hands disappeared under the water to grip the edges of Katie’s chemise, pulling outward to force the recalcitrant buttons from the fabric. Dreamily, she glanced down and watched for a moment as the tiny pearls drifted through the water, zigzagging lazily until they settled on the gravel bed below.

Jack turned so that the current of the river was at his back. As the water lapped against Katie’s breasts, they bobbed slightly, the taut, aching nipples turned up as if seeking the sunlight. Occasionally they broke the surface of the water in tantalizing invitation. Jack reached down to cup one breast with both hands, then lowered his head to nip gently at the sensitive pink bud. Katie gasped, astonished by the sudden shock of pleasure. She suffered the sweetest torment as Jack kneaded her swelling breasts and teased each nipple with his tongue and lips. When his mouth moved higher, blazing a fiery trail up to Katie’s throat, her head dropped back and her hair floated out on the water behind her.

“Kathleen.” He spoke her name with husky warmth. “Kathleen, look at me.”

She opened her eyes slowly, unable to speak, and met his passionate gaze.

“You’re aware that it’s me?” he whispered. “That this is no dream?”

Somehow Katie managed to nod, then twined her arms about his neck in search of his kiss. Jack cupped her buttocks in his hands and lifted her upward. Buoyant in the water, she wrapped her legs around his hips, thrilled to feel the hard pressure of his manhood against the core of her desire. Jack supported her under the water with one hand while the other molded one of her breasts. Shivers of delight transported her as his lips encircled the eager nipple; he swirled his tongue over the swollen peak, sucking gently until she began to pant and move her hips against his in a timeless rhythm. When Jack shifted slightly to position himself between her legs, Katie rocked back and forth against him, her body light in the water. Aided by the water, she slipped back and forth until, suddenly, there was a burst of delicious, throbbing sensations deep in her loins that undulated in waves over the rest of her body.

Jack’s heart tightened with tenderness as he watched her enchanting face contort at the moment of her release. She made a sound of primitive joy, her nails digging into his back and her legs tensing around his hips, and he could feel her spasms against the length of his manhood. Again she moaned, this time reaching blindly under the water, begging wordlessly for his entry.

He carried her to a quiet, shallow pool at the river’s edge where the thick branch of an oak tree arched out in a curve before them. Still holding her in his arms, he kissed her with sensuous deliberation before setting her on her feet. Katie stood spellbound with anticipation, waiting to discover what would happen next. When he removed her chemise and reached up to drape it over the oak branch, Katie stared boldly at his chiseled body. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man in the world.