Bushedwhacked Bride (31 page)
Billy planted little kisses all over Dumpling’s hot
cheeks, her soft throat, delighting to her little gasps of
pleasure, and the look in her eyes—so sweetly trusting,
so vulnerable. Encouraged, he began unbuttoning the
bodice of her gown. When she tried to resist, he merely
kissed her fingers away and firmly continued. Soon her
large, ripe breasts with their taut, rose-tinged nipples
were exposed to his scrutiny. She was breathless beneath
him, her chest rising and falling.
“Oh, sugar, I just died and went to heaven,” he breathed.
“Have you?” Shamelessly, Dumpling threw her arms about Billy’s neck. He kissed her lingeringly, then buried his head between her breasts. She screamed in delight as
his hungry mouth took her nipple.
By now she was writhing beneath him. “Oh, Bobby,
Bobby, we’re being so wicked. On a Sunday, no less.”
“Naw, honey, we’re being
good.”
“I ain’t never felt nothin’ like this.”
He struggled to keep his mouth attached to her breast.
“Easy, sugar, you’re flat gonna pitch me off.”
“Oh, Bobby, I just can’t stand it. You make me want to
move.”
“That does it,” Billy said, feverishly reaching beneath
her skirts, pulling down her drawers, touching her wetness.
Dumpling froze. “Bobby, this is going too fast—”
Billy smiled tenderly into her eyes. “Don’t you trust
me, sugar?”
“Oh, yes!”
“Just hold on to me tight, then. And call me Billy.”
“Billy?”
“Billy. Yeah, Billy. It’s my nickname. But only when
we’re alone.”
“All right. . . Billy.”
“Ah, you make me wild when you call me that.”
His merest stroking made her wilder yet. Billy tried to
hold Dumpling still as he caught her lips in a sweet, tender kiss. When he felt her relaxing, responding, felt the
wetness spreading between her thighs, he thought he
might explode right then and there, his passion for her was
so overpowering. Struggling to keep control, he eased his
fingers away and mounted her. She panicked and
clenched her thighs together.
“Billy!”
He smiled down into her eyes. “Let me in, darling.
Spread those thighs. Come on, now. There, that’s so
good.”
Dumpling complied, only to cry out as Billy began to penetrate her. “Billy—oh, it smarts.”
“I know, angel, but not for long.” Smiling, he positioned
himself firmly between her thighs, so she wouldn’t be able
to close on him again. “You know you’re a big woman where it matters, and just as small where it counts.”
Dumpling smiled then, only to scream softly as Billy penetrated her fully. Even as shudders shook them both, she tossed her head and bit a fist. “Oh, Billy, Billy. Oh, it
hurts, but so damn good!”
Billy was beyond replying, totally focused on the ex
quisite womanflesh squeezing about him. Dumpling was
tight, velvety, so hot. He eased back and forth, tasting her,
teasing her, spreading her wetness. Her moans further
stoked his passions, and even though she was slick now, her virgin flesh gripped him with a pressure and friction
that almost shattered his control. He pulled back and pen
etrated deep, beginning to move in earnest.
The sounds of Dumpling’s hoarse cries reached his
ears, urging him on. He plunged again and again, height
ening the torment, driving them both to ecstasy. At last he
fell on her, kissing her as she clung to him and quietly
sobbed in pleasure and release.
***
“You all right, sugar?” Billy asked afterward. He and
Dumpling had undressed and lay naked beneath the sheets.
Stretching like a plump, contented cat, Dumpling
grinned back. “I’m fine.”
He moved aside the sheet and glanced down. “Ain’t
that blood on the sheet?”
She eyed him dreamily. “Yeah, Billy, ain’t no doubt
a’tall that you’re my first.”
“Ah, honey.” Brimming with pride, he leaned over and
kissed her breast. “Sure you’re all right?”
She chuckled. “Reckon I’m as sore as a greenhorn
after a bronco ride—but I ain’t never felt better.”
Billy cuddled Dumpling close and ran his tongue over
her cheek. “Ready for another ride, angel?”
“Just pitch me into the saddle, cowboy.”
He chuckled, then turned more thoughtful. “Honey, what did you tell your daddy about us?”
“About what?”
“You know, about yesterday and . . .
the women.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, I just told him we
had a spat, that I was mad at you.”
“Whew,” Billy breathed, intensely relieved. “At least
maybe now I have a chance of patching things up with
your family.”
Dumpling kissed his chin. “Sure, you do.”
He smiled. “We should get married, honey.”
She brightened. “You mean it?”
“ ‘Course.” Indignantly, he added, “You don’t think I’d
just take your innocence and not marry you?”
“Well, hot damn, sugar!” Eagerly she kissed him.
Billy kissed her back, then a frown wrinkled his handsome brow. “But what will you tell your daddy when he
comes home and finds two busted doors and half the ceil
ing blowed away?”
Dumpling’s face screwed up mischievously. “Why, I’ll
just tell him you came by, we had a fight, and then you
ravished me.”
“Dumpling Hicks!”
She giggled. “Maybe we shouldn’t get hitched quite so
quick, eh, Billy?”
Reaching beneath the covers, he roved his hand over
her ample, bare bottom, squeezing until she squirmed in pleasure. “Woman, you’re asking for it now.”
“I know,” Dumpling purred, holding out her arms.
“Please, darlin’, give it to me.”
With a groan of pleasure, Billy hauled Dumpling close
and fully complied.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Over the next few days, Jessica saw little of Cole, but she often wondered what he was thinking. It disappointed her that he didn’t believe she was from the future—though she
couldn’t blame him. Mostly she wondered how he really felt
about her. He had offered to marry her, but he hadn’t said he
loved her, and she wondered if he even trusted her fully.
Despite it all, she missed him terribly.
She tried to keep her mind off him by staying busy with
her various activities—teaching the children in town, tutoring the boys at home, writing in her journal, and finishing up the history of Mariposa for the Founders’ Day
celebration in a few more days. Ma was also very busy
with her quilting circle, preparing for the bazaar. She even
invited the other ladies to the house one afternoon.
By Wednesday, Jessica was ready to take matters into
her own hands with Cole, to make another attempt to get
him to see things her way. She dressed in riding clothes,
then sought him out, finding him in the bunkhouse sitting
at a table reading the
Colorado Springs
Daily Chronicle.
She chuckled at the look of intense concentration on his handsome face.
He glanced up with a scowl, studying her in the doorway, his features softening as he took in her flannel shirt and form-hugging denim trousers.
“Well, hi, sugar.”
“I never would have pictured this,” she drawled back.
“You, reading the newspaper.”
“You think I’m some kind of ignorant hick?”
“No, I’d say you’re a pretty clever, wily sort. Where’d you get the paper?”
“Oh, Gideon Mayhew subscribes by mail, and he gave
it to me at church.”
“So what’s the news from the Springs?”
“Well, the El Paso Club is giving a social for the ladies,
a group of Ute Indians has been spotted setting up winter camp west of the city, and Mrs. Motts’ Household Hints
advises canning one’s tomatoes early this year. I’ll have to
tell Ma.”
Jessica laughed.
Folding the paper, Cole stood. “There’s also a rumor
that old Elijah Miser may run for U.S. Senator in the
next election.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Cole joined Jessica at the door. “I don’t know why we’re shocked. Sidewinders like him always end up
on top.”
“We’ll just have to see that he doesn’t.”
“We haven’t managed to deter him so far.”
“Maybe you haven’t tried the right method.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you hinting I should shoot the skunk and the rest of his consortium? Believe me, I’ve
considered it.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what?”
She sighed. “Let me give it some thought. There must
be a better, more legal way to stop him.”
“All right.” Abruptly he grinned and pulled her close.
“In the meantime, what can I do for you, Miss Jessie?”
“Well, you’ve been keeping your distance,” she chided.
He turned solemn. “Have you missed me?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to stop lying to me and get married?” he
added softly.
She ground her teeth. “Cole, I haven’t been lying.”
He waved a hand in frustration. “Do you really expect me to believe that haywire tale about your being from the
future?”
“Is that why you’ve been standoffish, because of what I told you?”
“Well, those stories of yours do give a man pause. Not
to mention the fact that you’re willing to go to bed with me, but not to become my wife.”
Jessica bit her lip. “Can you blame me when you don’t
believe me?”
‘‘Can you blame
me
for wondering if you’ve been
smoking peyote and chewing on locoweed?”
She groaned. “Cole, I want you to do something for me.”
He nestled her closer. “Sure, sugar.”
She squirmed. “Not that. I want us to go for a ride.”
He arched against her provocatively. “Me, too. Lord,
honey, I sure have missed you.”
“Cole, stop it,” she scolded. “I want you to take me to
the gorge where you kidnapped me.”
“Wherever you want to do it is fine with me.”
She shoved at his chest. “We have some talking to do.”
“Before or afterward, it makes no never-mind to me.”
“Damn it, Cole Reklaw!”
But after the rascal stole a leisurely kiss, Cole dutifully
grabbed his hat and left with her.
***
Half an hour later they were both perched on horseback,
overlooking the deep, dramatic gorge where they’d first
met. A shiver slipped down Jessica’s spine as she stared
at the narrow dirt road, at a scene that was at once familiar but also jarring, a landscape that, in her mind, would
always somehow hover between two worlds.
“Reklaw Gorge,” Jessica murmured.
Cole chuckled. “You mean ‘Haunted Gorge.’“
She turned to him in awe. “That’s right, it’s called
‘Haunted Gorge’ now.”
“It’s an old
Cheyenne
burial ground,” Cole explained.
“Strange things have been known to happen here.”
She shivered. “Woody Lynch mentioned the ghosts.”
“Woody Lynch?”
“He was our travel guide that day back in the present,
before everything changed. He said the gorge was
haunted by outlaws, not Indians. Your gang, in fact.”
Cole fell broodingly silent.
‘Tell me about that day, Cole. I mean, you and the boys
don’t normally rob stages, do you?”
“Yes, that was odd,” he admitted. “We’d gotten wind of
a gold shipment leaving the mines, but when we got
there, we found nothing.”
“So your spy didn’t exactly get you the lowdown, eh?”
He ignored that, though a slight grin gave him away.
“Anyhow, the wagon never came. We were on our way
back to the farm when Billy spotted the stage and said,
‘Hey, let’s rob it!’ The boys were feeling restless and
frustrated, and it seemed a pretty good idea at the
time.”
Jessica felt awed by the account. “I guess in a way,
then, it was destiny—you and me finding each other. You robbing the stage, when you hadn’t intended to. Me being
on it.”
He appeared intrigued by the prospect. “Yeah—des
tiny. I like that, sugar.”
She eyed him beseechingly. “Cole, will you at least try
to listen to me again?”
“I’ll try,” he agreed reluctantly.
“The day you kidnapped me . . .” She paused, draw
ing a shuddering breath. “I started out in the present, in
the year 1999.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.”
“Hush and listen. I was a history professor at
Pawnee
College
in
Greeley
, and we were on a summer field trip, doing research on the Old West.”
“You mean, studying about now?” he asked in per
plexity.
“Right. On the last leg of our journey, we stayed at a
dude ranch owned by Woody Lynch, a cousin of our
chair, Professor Lummety. Two other male colleagues were along. We had an excursion—a ride in an antique stagecoach, complete with costumes. It was the very
stagecoach that used to belong to Lila Lullaby, and now
belongs to Buck Lynch. We were supposed to ride out
and have a picnic at Mariposa—which in the future will
be a ghost town.”
Cole shook his head. “Damn, sugar, but you have a
vivid imagination.”
“It’s all true, Cole,” she retorted vehemently. “Anyway,
the ride was quite bumpy, and soon after we came to this
gorge, I hit my head on the roof of the stagecoach, then
pricked—well, my derriere—on an old cameo buried be
neath the seats.”
Cole snapped his fingers. “Lila’s old cameo—the one you gave back to her?”
“Right. Then everything became hazy; reality flickered
in and out. The next thing I knew, the men I was sitting with all changed into their nineteenth-century counter
parts. Professor Lummety became his own ancestor,
Sheriff Lummety; Professor Billingsly became—I don’t know, a clone of Buffalo Bill, and Stan Wilkins became some tobacco-chewing hick named Slim.”
“Uh-huh” Cole agreed cynically.
“Then the five of you came roaring up, robbed the
stage, and kidnapped me. The rest, as they say, is history.”
He eyed her askance. “That it?”
“Of course not! There’s the whole matter of my life in
the future—a world I doubt you can even comprehend—
not to mention the question of how in
hell
I came to be
here with you.”
“Search me, sugar.”
“Damn it, Cole, you’re not helping!”
“ ‘Cause you’re still not making any sense!”
“How would you feel if you were a mere bit of flotsam
in the cosmic plan, tossed about at the whim of the Fates?”
He gestured at the gorge. “What do you expect me to
say, Jessie? It’s obvious you feel you don’t belong here
with me.”
“That’s not what I said.”
He eyed her sadly. “Are you wishing that stage would
come along again and take you away?”
“You believe me?” she gasped.
Expression troubled, Cole replied, “I believe you think you belong somewhere else.”
Jessica stared at the gorge for a long moment, then
wistfully replied, “Maybe in a strange sense I do wish that
stage would come along again. In a funny way, it would
be like coming full circle. It might convince me that this
is real, even persuade me I’m not crazy. Maybe I need to
connect with my other world one last time—perhaps to
say goodbye.”
“Maybe it’s me you really want to say goodbye to,” he
said, almost bitterly.
Jessica regarded him with her heart in her eyes, and
spoke with the force of her torn feelings. “Cole, that’s not
true. But maybe, just maybe, I may not have any choice in this at all. And that’s what scares me the most.”
***
When they arrived home, it was to find the boys once
again mounting up out in the yard. Since all four were
heavily armed, there was no doubt as to their intent. Jes
sica’s heart sank.
“Jessie! Cole!” Billy called. “We been looking for you
everywhere. Rattle your hocks and let’s ride. There’s a
new shipment coming out from the mines this after
noon.”
“Is there?” Cole questioned as he and Jessie halted their
horses. “Then I guess we’ve arrived back in the nick of
time.”
“You coming with us, Jessie?” Wes asked.
She shot him a baleful look. “I’d have thought you
boys .would have learned your lesson by now. And what
about the Pinkerton agents that may be out tracking
you?”
“Ah, we ain’t scared,” bragged Gabe. “Don’t argue
with us, Jessie. You coming or not?”
“Yeah, if we hurry, we’ll be back in time for prayer
meeting tonight,” Billy put in eagerly.
“Prayer meeting!” Jessica repeated in disbelief. “It
amazes me how you scoundrels can separate the morality
of churchgoing from the
immorality
of your lawless
ways!”
All the brothers appeared perplexed. “Do you know what she’s talking about?” Luke asked Cole.
“Nope,” he replied.
Jessica struggled to hold on to her patience. “I’m saying, how can you rob the gold shipment this afternoon,
then have the unmitigated gall to show up at church
tonight?”
“Why, a’course we gotta attend church,” put in Billy
self-righteously. “Miss Dumpling and me kissed and
made up, and I promised her I’d be there tonight. We don’t show, and she’ll think . . . Hell, she’ll think I’m a
dad-blamed
sinner
.”
