Comanche Cowboy (The Durango Family) (18 page)

Cayenne helped Mrs. Olds prepare food for the men. The day stretched into long hot hours as the Indians sat their ponies just outside the range of the big guns like buzzards waiting for a wounded animal to die.

“By damn!” Maverick swore as he carried his plate of beef, hot peppers, and tortillas back over to stare out at the silent sentinels. “They’re just sitting out there waiting, knowing we can’t hold out forever!”

Bat nodded, his mouth full. “We sure ain’t going any place, and the chances a cavalry patrol might be out and in the area are pretty slim. Although, as word gets out to stray parties of hunters that the Injuns are on the warpath, they might try to make it into here. Safety in numbers, you know.”

Billy said, “I figure the Injuns is gettin’tired, maybe plannin’ one last big rush in the morning to try to overrun us”.

Maverick took a bite of the hot chili beans. “If we could just kill one of them major chiefs, they might lose heart and go away.”

After dark, some of the men slept while others kept the vigil around the perimeters of the walls. Cayenne was afraid of the sudden silence, the darkness closing in as the sun set all orange and gold. She hugged herself as she came over to the isolated spot where Maverick leaned against the wall, watching out a gun port.

“It’s awfully quiet,” she said, sitting down on the dirt floor next to him.

Maverick shrugged, tipping his hat back. “Indians have to rest and eat, too.”

She watched the strong outline of his profile in the growing dust. “You think they’ll hit us full force in the morning?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he answered a little too easily, and his hand went up to stroke the jagged white scar.

Cayenne looked around. There was no one close by and the nearest man was over behind some barrels asleep. Once in a while, she could hear his gentle snoring. Bat had gone down to the other end of the building to check things out.

“Don’t lie to me, Maverick.” She leaned up against him without thinking, seeking the comfort of his shoulder. “We’ve come a long way together. I’m beginning to know you like the back of my hand, know when you’re lying to me.”

“By damn, you sound like a wife!” He gave a forced laugh, obviously determined to keep her off the subject. His big arm slipped around her and she pressed her face against his shirt, thinking what a haven of protection and strength his arms had become for her. She didn’t speak for a few minutes, looking through the gun port at the rose and purple sunset.

“Maverick, this might be our last night, our last sunset together.”

He hesitated, watching the sunset himself, and he didn’t speak until the dusk turned into darkness. “And if it is?”

She sighed, leaning against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. “Everyone ought to know when he’s going to die so he can set things right, say the things he always meant to say to people and almost never does.”

Maverick laughed again, but it was a forced laugh. “Don’t count us out yet, baby. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Something’s gotta happen at dawn; this can’t go on forever!”

She could feel the cold steel of his pistol in her side. “You won’t let them take me if we’re overrun?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and his hand came down to tilt her her small face up. “You know the answer to that. I’ve seen what they can do to a white woman when they’re mad.” He kissed her gently, as if she were a fragile porcelain doll.

She clung to him. “I’m afraid, Maverick! So afraid!”

“Naw! Rebels aren’t afraid! Stubborn and wrongheaded, maybe, but not afraid.” His voice was joking, full of forced lightness. “Now what would old Jeff Davis think of you if he heard that?”

“I’ll bet even your old Sam Houston would have been scared right now!”

He laughed and shook his head. “Old Sam Houston would have charged hell with a water bucket! ” Maverick stroked her hair. “Besides, old Sam got along fine with Indians. If we’d followed his lead, we might not have had all these troubles with the tribes.”

“It’s going to be a very long night,” she swallowed hard. “Maverick, can I-can I stay here with you so I won’t have to be alone?”

She felt him nod, grunting as he pulled her closer. “I’ve been alone most of my life, and now that I’ve finally found you. . . . it isn’t fair,” he said bitterly against her hair. “It just isn’t fair!”

“Papa says life’s not fair but God’ll even things up someday; see to it that people get what they deserve.”

He hesitated and she felt him stiffen. “Sometimes maybe God needs a little help to get justice done.”

He stood diametrically opposed to what she believed in, this bitter loner, and yet . . .

She slipped her arms around his neck and he kissed her deeply. “Oh, Maverick, I—I think I love you! I’m sorry things have come to this.”

He didn’t answer and she sighed. He didn’t care about her at all. She must sound like a fool. His big body trembled ever so slightly. In wonder, she reached up to touch his rugged face. Were those tears there? “Maverick,” she whispered. “Oh, Maverick!”

He clung to her in the dark like a frightened child, and without thinking, she opened her shirt, letting him press his face against the comfort of her naked breasts.

“Cayenne, I want you one last time,” he whispered, his breath warm against her nipples. Her body wanted him, too, but even in the darkened adobe building, there was no way they could undress completely and make love.

She felt her body moisten itself, eager for him to fill her as his hand stroked down her breasts to her waist. She touched his maleness, felt it throb strongly as she unbuttoned his pants and reached to caress him.

His fingers fumbled with the buttons of her pants, and then his hand reached inside to touch her, to stroke her. They lay down on a pile of burlap bags behind a stack of crates. She moved so that she lay with her head in his lap, spreading her thighs so his fingers could tease and stroke her wet, velvet softness. When his fingers slipped deep inside to caress her depths, she gasped and arched against him. And then she turned her head to take his pulsating manhood between her lips.

“Cayenne, you—you don’t need to do that, baby.” But he didn’t push her away as her tongue tasted the seed of him, tilting her head so that he could thrust deeply between her lips. He made a sighing sound of pleasure, and his fingers reached again to stroke her depths while his other hand cupped her breasts, caressed her nipples.

She was wet and ready for entry. Cayenne felt her body arching eagerly up against his probing hand. She relaxed her throat so she could take his thrusting deeper, wanting to taste the very essence of the man.

The hand that stroked her breasts came down to pull her face against his crotch, and he moaned slightly. “You’re drivin’ me loco, you little vixen! I—I can’t imagine not having you beside me forever!”

She had a sudden vision of eagles, their mighty wings spread, their bodies locked together as they plummeted toward the earth. And in that moment, her body shuddered and convulsed, and tasting him was not enough; she had to have more of him. Greedily, she took him deep in the softness of her mouth. When he came, she clung to him. Cayenne would not stop, as he moaned and writhed against her mouth, until she had taken every virile drop he could offer.

“Cayenne! Oh, Cayenne! Baby . . .” He pulled her up to kiss his seed from her lips. “I always wanted a woman to do that to me, never had the nerve to ask.”

“I—I couldn’t stop myself, Maverick, dearest,” she whispered, and was finally content with the taste of him still on her lips as he kissed her again. If this were the very last time, she had wanted an indescribable ecstasy to remember, and that it had been.

Cayenne dropped off into an exhausted sleep in his arms, not caring anymore what tomorrow would bring as long as she could have this night in his embrace. Funny, she had struggled and schemed to get back to Texas because of Slade and his men, and now she wasn’t going to be able to get there. Well, Papa was always praying for miracles, and that’s sure what they needed to get out of this one.

Long before dawn, she helped Mrs. Olds fry up some bacon and make a big pan of biscuits.

She took a platter around to all the men guarding the walls, along with a pot of fresh, strong coffee.

Bat Masterson smiled at her as he accepted a plate. “If we get out of here, I think I’ve about had enough of buffalo hunting. There’s bound to be a better way to make a living. I figure there’s a future for me in Dodge City; maybe there’s a future for you there, too.”

She laughed, pleased that he was interested enough to flirt. “It’ll be dawn soon, and there’s still a thousand Comanches, Cheyennes, and a handful of Kiowas out there. You’ll have to do something about them first.”

He sipped his coffee and she thought how handsome he was. “Okay, Cayenne. But when this is over, think about what I said about going with me. I meant it.”

“Sorry, I’ve got a man,” she said softly, and realized it was true. Things had changed so much in the few days since she’d left Wichita. What was she going to do about Maverick?

My stars, Cayenne,
she scolded herself as she went around handing out steaming tin cups of coffee,
you’ve got to survive this morning before you worry about planning the rest of your life.

She went last to Maverick and sat down beside him with a contented sigh. “I’m happy, Maverick, really happy. Would you ever consider living on the Lazy M?” Should she tell him about what the Comanche had done to Papa? No, he might consider a handicapped man too much of a burden. And he was such a loner, maybe he wouldn’t want a ready-made family of all her little sisters.

Maverick sipped his coffee. “Cayenne, with what we’re facing this morning, I figure I should clean the slate, tell you something. . . . ”

“Will it make me unhappy?” She looked at him and he looked away, as if unable to meet her eyes. “If it will, don’t tell me, Maverick. My God, if I may die in an hour, don’t tell me just to clear your conscience!”

She felt crushed, betrayed. She felt sure he had started to tell her that there was another girl somewhere. Maybe he wanted to confess that he’d been too human to pass up a chance to make love to Cayenne but he didn’t want any kind of lasting relationship, any burdens. “No.” She put her hand over her ears. “Don’t tell me.”