Dorothy Garlock (19 page)

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Authors: The Searching Hearts

BOOK: Dorothy Garlock
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“Ya think I’d wait ’round for
Mister
Lucas Steele to call me out all gentlemanlike?” he asked with a low laugh. “Not likely, gal. I’ll be a watchin’ ya, same as I been doin’, ’n if’n I get wind that ya took the notion to tell him ’bout me ’n you, why I’ll jist have to hightail it outta here, wait on up ahead, and pick him off with a shot in the head. ’N t’won’t matter none what ya tell ’im, thar ain’t no way on earth that man can be ready fer me twenty-four hours a day. So by a talkin’, you’d jist be a diggin’ his grave fer him. Not that I’d mind. . . . I’ll still have ya in the end. Jist be a mite more trouble, that’s all,” he concluded blandly. He watched her the way a spider might watch a juicy insect getting tangled in its web.
“You mean you’d just shoot an innocent man from ambush?” she gasped. But even as she asked the question, she knew he would.
He was laughing openly now at her astonishment. “What’s he to me? I’ve killed horses I knowed better’n him. What’s he to me,” he repeated, “that I’d let ’im stand ’tween me and the woman I want? Don’t need that meddlin’ kind of varmint ’round nohow.”
Tucker felt herself go ice cold. The next instant she was burning hot, as a flush of fear raced through her body. She was trembling from head to foot, but she made an effort to keep her voice steady. “You’re
talking crazy.” She shook her arm again and was surprised when he released it.
She walked past him, and he let her get about five feet away before he pounced. With the agility of a mountain lion and a single sweep of his arms he had her tight against him, her arms pinned to her sides. One of his hands covered her mouth and the other clutched at her breasts. Tucker’s eyes were wide with terror as she helplessly searched the darkness, feeling the length of his torso pressed against her back.
“Jist remember, what passes ’tween you ’n me is ours. Say one word to anyone and I’ll drop that wagon master faster’n he can blink from any hill or clump of trees he passes. ’N that ain’t all, purty woman,” he rasped through the coppery tendrils that now clung damply to her temples. “That boy what sits by his maw would make a fine, easy target, too—if’n ya decide to be difficult, that is. Bang! Right between the eyes. Ever seen brains a splattered all over?”
Tucker stood numb and still while he whispered this litany of horrors into her ear. Oh, my God! He was serious!
“Then there’s that little blind gal. . . .” Tucker’s blood froze at the mention of Laura. “You can’t keep a watchin’ out fer her all the time. Why, ya don’t even know where she is right now. Might be you’ll lose sight o’ her fer a few minutes . . . ’n might be when you find her, she’ll be a layin’ gut-shot in the trail,” Parcher continued his grisly monologue. “I’m a givin’ ya yore choices.”
Tucker stood riveted, quaking with sheer terror. He was holding her so tightly she could feel the gun in his belt digging into her ribs.
Parcher chuckled harshly and pulled open her bodice with one swift tug. His hand now closed over a firm, bare breast. “Yer my woman. Yer the one I want. Not a used-up one, or a squaw like my pa had. Understand?”
Tucker shuddered but nodded numbly.
“You won’t be forgettin’ ’bout that gut-shot gal now?” he reminded her softly as he ran his hand down from her bosom to her pelvis and jerked her buttocks up tight against him. He made a few grinding motions with his hips against her before he abruptly released his grip and stood holding her arm and staring down at her.
Somehow Tucker managed to fasten her bodice, and the instant his hand left her arm she stumbled away into the darkness.
Frank leaned against the rail and chuckled. She was everything he’d thought she would be. Sensible when it was called for, and fiery when mad. He’d wanted to throw her to the ground and satisfy himself right then and there, but he knew she was a woman worth waiting for. Their time would come. And when it did, they’d be far away, with no one listening but himself, the coyotes, and the wolves. He could feel the throbbing strength of his swollen manhood, and he found himself yearning for it to be sheathed in the redheaded woman.
* * *
Cora Lee stepped from the shadows and stood before Frank. She had been watching him and the teacher, but from such a distance that she hadn’t heard what they were saying. She stood looking at him with her hands resting on her hips, desire growing in her like a living thing. She’d hoped the scout wouldn’t throw the teacher to the ground and rape her; she hoped he’d save himself for her.
She knew what she needed; she needed the full weight of this powerful man upon her, making love to her. The need that was coursing its way through her, throbbing in her head and knotting her stomach, had to be satisfied. She knew it would be the moment Frank placed his hands on her waist and drew her toward him. He spread her dress where she had opened the neckline provocatively, and lightly pinched the erect nipples that strained against his hands. It was not important to Cora Lee who this man was, or if she even liked him or not. She knew she had to have him.
Frank took her hand, and they moved from the pole corral, dodged around the night guard, and turned into the brush alongside the river bank. He walked rapidly, ignoring the branches that sprang back to strike Cora Lee as he passed through them. He found the place he sought and turned to her.
“Take your clothes off,” he said abruptly as he lifted his hands to slide his suspenders from his shoulders. Cora Lee moved over and molded herself against him, but before her arms had reached his neck
he pushed her away. “Take your clothes off,” he repeated.
He watched her silently as she struggled out of her dress. When she stood naked before him, he lowered her to the ground and fell on top of her. His swollen shaft sought the wetness between her legs, and he immediately plunged into her. She moaned and arched against him, reaching, grabbing.
Surprised by the look of lust on her face, he felt his desire ebbing. Damn the bitch! He slapped her with his open hand. Instinctively her clenched fist came up, and she struck him a blow alongside the head. A wave of sexual excitement swept him, and he slapped her again. Cora Lee began to fight him in earnest. She suddenly realized what was happening to her, and she was frightened by it.
The stabbing shaft between her thighs tore into her, causing her body to arch up against him helplessly. She tried to expel him from her body, but it was no use. She couldn’t move as he drove deeper and deeper inside her.
In her own confused way, Cora Lee had believed she could find a solution to her obsession with Lucas Steele by turning to another man. She knew now that the man she had turned to was cold and ruthless. He knew her weakness and was using it to degrade her while he satisfied his own lust.
He battered her with long, hard thrusts until her aching bones felt as if there were no padding between them and the hard ground. When he finished he quickly removed himself from her.
Of all the lovers she had ever known, he was by far the most brutal. He had not said one word to her except to tell her to take off her clothes. He had shown no appreciation for her willingness to lie with him, nor admiration for her beauty. Most important, he had not even tried to carry her to the point of ecstasy where she could rest knowing the thing was done, her need satisfied.
Frank hitched up his suspenders and squatted on his heels to watch Cora Lee. She was a good-looking woman, but a mite too horny for his taste. He had deliberately finished with her before she reached satisfaction. She was still hot, still panting for it. He would play her along, keep her that way, let her stew in her own juices for a while. Then he’d give her the plowing of her life, and after that she’d be eating out of his hand.
“Tell me about the redheaded woman.”
“What do you want to know?” she snapped as she began to dress.
“Is she Steele’s woman?”
“Would it matter to you if she was?”
“Answer me, goddammit, if’n you don’t want a busted mouth.”
“She’s not his woman. She’d like to be, but I got ideas about that,” Cora Lee muttered.
Frank grinned. “Fancy ’im, do ya?”
“None of your business,” she flung at him.
He laughed. “Play yore cards right ’n we’ll both get what we want,” he suggested conspiratorially.
“And I suppose you’ll deal the hand,” Cora Lee
said doubtfully as she pulled her knees up under her skirt and held them tightly.
“My game,” he said softly. He reached out a hand and rubbed the back of it across one of her still sensitive nipples. “Tomorrow night. Here. I’ll give ya a real good time.” His tone was subtly different, almost gentle.
Cora Lee didn’t answer. Miserably she realized she didn’t need to. Frank knew his own power, and he knew she would be there. She sat in the glade for a while after he left her. She still needed someone to satisfy her tonight.
She got to her feet, straightened her dress, and smoothed back her hair. She would find someone to help her, someone to release her from the strain of the trembling demands of her body. It would have to be one of the soldiers, one young enough to cope with the fires that consumed her.
The moon was up and the wagons stood out clearly against the skyline. Cora Lee stood at the far end of the corral and watched as the night guard was changed. The men talked in low tones for a few minutes, and then the soldier going off duty started walking in her direction. Cora Lee waited until the replacement had turned his back and walked to the far side of the corral before she stepped out into the path.
“Evenin’, soldier. You goin’ off duty?”
The soldier stopped. He had known she was standing there, but he hadn’t mentioned it to the replacement who had come to relieve him. After several hours of night duty his eyes were adjusted to the
darkness, while the other man had just come from lighted barracks. It had been months since he had talked to a woman alone, and the temptation to do so was irresistible.
“Evenin’, ma’am. You ort to be careful ’round here at night. You could be mistook for a horse thief. Somebody could shoot you by accident.”
“But you didn’t shoot. You knew I was here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now that that’s cleared up, can we walk?”
“We ain’t suppose to have nothin’ to do with the womenfolk, ma’am. The captain would strip the hide off me if he caught me.”
Cora Lee laughed softly and took his arm. “We’ll have to make sure the captain don’t catch you. I’m lonesome, soldier. I know a little place where we can go and talk.”
He hesitated. “I don’t think I ort to, ma’am.”
“My name’s Cora Lee. What’s yours?”
“Dabney. Private Casper Dabney.”
“You’re not on duty, Casper. Wouldn’t you like to be with me for a little while before you go back to the barracks? I bet there isn’t a man in your company who wouldn’t give a month’s pay to be in your shoes right now.” As if by accident she brushed her breasts against his arm and heard his swift intake of breath.
“But the captain said—”
“Oh, poo on the captain! He wouldn’t turn down the chance to walk out with me.” Cora Lee laughed lightly. She could see his resistance fading as she knew it would. “Come on, Casper. I’ve had my eye
on you for quite a spell.” She let her hand wander up his chest to his neck. He was trembling violently. “Don’t you want to be with me, Casper?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s only that the captain—”
“He’ll never know.” She took his arm, drew it around her waist, and placed his hand just beneath her breast. “There’s a place back here by the river where we can . . . talk.”
Fifteen minutes later Cora Lee was lying on her back in the clearing. The young soldier had spent himself almost the moment he’d touched her. She had known he would, but she also knew the resilience of the young, and within minutes she had him aroused again. Now she lay quietly, rolling her head back and forth as the ecstasy she craved built within her.
“Private Dabney! On your feet!” The voice rang with command.
The soldier jerked away from her, and Cora Lee’s eyes flew open. Oh, God, no! Please . . . just a little more time! But she knew it wasn’t to be. She had to do something, immediately, to improve her situation. She rolled over as soon as the boy left her and began to sob.
Private Dabney hastily arranged his clothes while the sergeant picked up his rifle.
“You’re under arrest, private.”
“Sir, I—”
“Oh, sergeant.” Cora Lee got to her feet, holding the bodice of her dress together with both hands. “I’m so glad you came. He . . . that soldier made me. . . .”
“You don’t have to be a tellin’ me nothin’, ma’am. I got eyes.”
“Then you could see—”
“Go back to your wagon,” he ordered with no pretense of politeness. “Get movin’, private.”
“I didn’t force her, sir.” The enormity of what was happening and what Cora Lee was accusing him of struck Casper like a thunderbolt. He held back and turned pleading eyes on the woman. “Tell him, ma’am.”
“Tell him what?” Cora Lee said harshly. “That you dragged me here and threw me down? That you . . . that you . . .” Her voice trailed away in a pitiful wail.

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