Dorothy Garlock (10 page)

“I didn’t have it in mind last night or the night before. I thought about it today . . . tonight. I need a woman if I’m going to leave something to show I’ve passed through this life.” He repeated the words he had said earlier, but somehow she knew the meaning was different.

“You’ve decided you want a woman and I’m the only one available.” Resentment stiffened her. She put her hands on his chest to push him away. It was like pushing against a mountain.

“Why are you angry? You need a man to look after you. There are other women here in Saint Charles. A widow, the fur trader’s daughter, and the girl with the settlers.” He jerked his head toward where she’d seen the glow of the settlers’ campfire.

So he’d noticed the beautiful, elfin girl after all. The knowledge only increased her anger. “You may think I should be grateful to be
chosen,
but I’m not. I refuse your generous offer!”

“You haven’t had a better one,” he reasoned calmly. “Ransom was going to pass you around, Fletcher was sickly, and Greer was old. I’m young and strong. I’ll provide for you and no other man will touch you.”

Her humiliation was almost complete. “Well, thank you! That’s most kind of you!” The words burst from her with bitter sarcasm. He seemed not to notice, and suddenly she was crushed against him. His arms wrapped around her like a steel trap.

“You’ll get used to the idea. I won’t rush to bed you.
But, Lord, girl! You tempt me!”

Her temper ran out of control. “You . . . pompous ass! I wouldn’t take you if you were the last man on earth. Get your hands off me. I’ll scream,” she threatened, her voice husky and trembling. “I’ll scream for Zan and he’ll kill you!”

His face, only a breath away from hers, was like carved stone. He watched her mouth spilling out the angry words. One hand gripped the nape of her neck, the other was flat against the small of her back. When she opened her mouth to make her threat a reality, he clamped his mouth to hers.

His mouth savaged hers relentlessly, prying her lips apart, grinding his teeth against her inner lips. She tried to drag her head back, but his hand held her in position and she couldn’t wrench it from his grasp. His teeth were biting into her lips, his fingers wound into her hair; she moaned in pain and struggled as violently as she could. He was taking her breath. When she thought her lungs would burst, he moved his mouth to the side of her face and she took in great gulps of air through her open mouth.

His hand had moved around to cup her breast. The shock of feeling his hard fingers kneading her flesh made her giddy. She tried to speak, to protest, but her voice seemed to have dried up. Her heart was racing beneath the breast he was holding and she felt a sudden revulsion in the pit of her stomach. He looked down into her face, his breath quick and warm on her wet mouth. Trembling, she tried to shake her head in silent protest.

“I told you I needed a woman. I guess I didn’t realize how much,” he said in a strange, thickened voice. “I won’t always be this rough.”

Helpless tears gathered in her eyes. “You . . . animal! Find yourself another woman to maul. I don’t want you!”

Her words made him angry. “What do you think you’d have got from Walt Ransom?”

“There’s not a speck of difference between you!”

“You think not? He’d not have stopped at kissing you.”

“You call that a kiss? You jackass! Force and take is all you know!”

“What else is there? You wouldn’t have let me kiss you, and I’m not the type to beg for what I want.” He drew in a harsh breath and put his mouth to hers again.

She silently shrieked a bitter protest and resisted with all her strength. She had never felt a man’s lips on hers and her disappointment was so complete she went cold and stiff, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was using her for some satisfaction of his own. She felt like an object and she hated him. When he lifted his head she was crying. He tasted the tears on her lips.

“What’s the matter with you? You’re a grown woman. You act like a mare who’s seen her first stallion.”

Her lips felt swollen. “You’d never understand,” she whispered on a ragged breath.

“I mean to have you for my wife,” he bit out close to her ear.

“No!”

“Goddammit! I’ll talk to Zan.”

“Zan won’t make me.” She said the words quickly because she believed them.

“Then go back to Saint Louis and let the dogs fight over you,” he said harshly.

The words made her tremble. She tried to move away from him, but his hands on her shoulders gripped them tightly. He looked down at her, his eyes savage. She looked back at him, her own eyes stricken, dazed by what had taken place.

“All right. I’ll . . . go back.” They were the only words she could manage.

His hands shook her. “You’re the stubbornest woman I ever met!”

“You think I’m stubborn because I want to have a say in the direction my life will take? You think that just because I’m a woman I should take a man I don’t want so I’ll have a roof over my head and food to eat? I’ll not take one male
animal
to keep the other
animals
at bay!”

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. She felt her skin grow icy, her head throb with agony. Yes, she thought, that’s what he thinks. He’s shocked that I want more. He doesn’t even know what I’m talking about!

“I want to talk to Zan.” Her words were strong, not at all a reflection of what she was feeling. She felt the probe of his stare and was ashamed of the weak tears on her face.

“He won’t take you back to that . . . muck!”

“Then I’ll go alone. There’ll be someone in Saint Charles who will help me. I wouldn’t have come if I’d known what you had in mind. I thought I would have work, care for your brother’s wife,
earn
my way, keep my self-respect.”

“You still can.”

“No. Things are different now.”

“Because I offered for you?”

“Because you hold me in such low esteem.”

“You’re insulted by my proposal?” The tone of his
voice was incredulous.

“Is that what it was?” she sneered, enjoying knowing she had angered him.

His fingers bit into her shoulders and he stood, bringing her up with him. As he towered over her, she felt his rage and frustration.

“Woman! I could—” He bit back the words he intended to say, so she said them.

“Beat me? Oh, yes, I can well imagine that would be the way you would control a rebellious wife.” Her voice more than her words made her contempt for him known.

“Careful,” he cautioned through teeth clenched tight with suppressed anger.

“I’m aware of your brute strength, Mr. Merrick,” she said in a cool, steady voice and indicated the hands that clenched her arms so tightly it rounded her shoulders. “I’m sure I’ll have evidence of it on my arms tomorrow.”

A full moon had come up over the edge of the treetops and shone on her resentful face. Her light eyes did battle with his dark ones. He was breathing deeply, erratically. So the stone man can be jarred after all, she thought. Slowly, he let his hands slide from her arms and she saw a smile twitch at the corners of his wide mouth.

“Don’t bait the bear,
Annielove.
The beast just might go for more honey.”

Her throat choked with bitterness. The emphasis he put on the name he called her was like rubbing salt into a wound. She stuck out her chin, and at the same time realized the futility of the gesture.

“I want to talk to Zan.”

“Go to bed. We’ll be loading the wagons before dawn.” He reached out a hand and touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. “I might point out that Zan is on my side in this matter.” He tapped her cheek and laughed softly. “He’d like nothing better than to see you wed to me. He told me so.”

Annie Lash felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach and lie there, thumping in a strange and disturbing way that alarmed her. She edged away from him until the back of her knees struck the platform.

“It’s not saying much for your manly charms that you have to use threats and the help of an old man to get a wife,” she said quietly, rashly uncaring that she would arouse his anger again.

His eyes rested on her face for a long time without movement, without any discernible emotion, then he grinned. His face was tilted down toward hers and she could see the amusement that narrowed his eyes.

“I never liked a mountain that was too easy to climb, or a smooth, calm river, Annielove. You and I will hitch well together.”

“Stop calling me that ridiculous name!” His grin almost shattered her control. Her heart was pumping madly and her insides were quivering from the effort it took to keep from slapping his face.

His laugh rang out. It was a hearty, happy laugh, and she hated him for it. Laughter spilled into the words he spoke.

“Get under the canvas and go to bed, or . . . I’ll come in there
with you.”

She swallowed dryly, feeling the frantic clamor of her throbbing pulses even as some devil prodded her to say recklessly, “As I said before, you’re no better than Walt Ransom!”

His hand shot to her throat and choked off the words. For a long moment he looked down into her beautifully structured face surrounded with dark hair that had come loose from its pins. She stood quietly, refusing to humiliate herself by struggling.

“Don’t think for a moment that your opinion of me matters in the least,” he said, knowing full well that he was lying and wondering why he was doing so. “At this moment, all I’m concerned with is what I want.”

She felt a surge of panic as his arms went around her again and tightened their hold until she was crushed against him so tightly she could feel every tense muscle in his body throbbing with life. His mouth was hard and angry and she made only a small sound before his lips cut off both breath and sound.

Moon and sky were blotted out by his dark, angry face. His kiss was possessive, demanding, and she suffered it numbly, too shocked to protest. He kissed her deeply, again and again, as if he had long been thirsty and was drinking at a cool well. Violently and ruthlessly, he plundered her mouth until she was unable to stand and sagged against him.

She didn’t know when his mouth softened and his tongue forced its way between her compressed lips. The feel of it was strange, soft and caressing. She thought she would swoon; a strange feverish pounding in her temples spread to her stomach and lower into her genitals. His hand slipped down to her buttocks, holding her there, his hard muscular thighs forcing intimate pressure upon her. The feeling of something rock hard pressing against her lower stomach jerked her to awareness. With a sob in her throat she began to struggle.

He raised his head. He was trembling. She could feel the tremor in the body pressed to hers.

“Please—” she whispered shakily.

“When the time comes, you’ll sleep with me,” he growled softly. “You’ll sleep with me and you’ll like what I do to you.”

At his words her body went cold inside. She strove to pull back, but his grip was too strong. She glared at him with eyes that looked like bits of blue glass.

Something about the way she looked at him made him hesitate. He could see the heaving of her breasts, even though the shirt she wore was loose, and the thought of them, the sweet softness he felt when he held her, caused his heart to lurch suddenly. His eyes searched her face and found her eyes, and he marveled at their beauty.

Annie Lash seemed to lose herself in his eyes. He was less frightening somehow, but his words pounded in her head. She was trembling, and when she drew away from him he let her go. She was drained of thought and will and just managed to find the opening in the canvas and crawl into the nest of soft pelts, tears of humiliation coursing down her cheeks.

Jeff watched her go, a peculiar feeling moving through him. He scowled to himself, wondering what she thought now. Why should he care? For a moment, he speculated on how it would be if she had responded to him out of love, and not in response to his passion, as other women had done. How would it feel to have a woman whisper true words of love in his ear, to see a softening look come to her eyes when they sought and found him? He felt the twinge of desire to know love, but seconds later he discarded the idea. That wasn’t what he wanted. He would not be bound!

Why had her rejection aroused such a devil in him? He certainly had had no intention of man-handling her like that. But once he started he just couldn’t seem to stop. Damn her! She’d think he was no better than Walt Ransom. In fact, she’d said that. Well, what the hell to do now? By the Lord Henry, he swore to himself, he’d sure made a mess of things!

He turned restlessly, hating the strange, twisting feeling that churned about inside of him. He leaped to the sandy bank and walked quickly to where Light was adding a few sticks to the small blaze beneath a blackened coffee pot.

“
Mon ami,
you flee like a rejected lover.”

“Mind your own business, damn you!”

Light laughed softly and settled down beside the fire. He lifted a harmonica to his lips and began to play a French love song. Usually the music he played came from his own feelings, but tonight he was playing to soothe the feelings of his friend. He finished the song and glanced at Jeff, who was hunkered down on his haunches staring into the fire. That in itself was atypical of the wary woodsman. A man who looks into a fire cannot see for several seconds when he looks away, and those few seconds could cost him his life.

“It is painful, no?”

Jeff scowled, but didn’t answer.

Light got to his feet and walked away, pondering the obvious cause of his friend’s irritable mood.

Yawning, Annie Lash took her place at the end of the small caravan. Today was like that first morning, except that now she knew what to expect. This morning she couldn’t see her surroundings, could only follow the dark shape of the wagon, or swing herself up to ride on the tailgate. She did that now, because the grass was wet with dew and the forest beyond loomed thicker and darker in this hour before the dawn streaked the eastern sky. They kept to the outside edge of the timber, making good progress.