Foxfire Light (15 page)

“But, just in case—” Linc added the qualification that had prompted her initial reaction.

“Yes, just in case,” she agreed on a note of amused self-derision.

“You're not alone. Everyone who has ever heard that story has tested it out to see if it's true. It's human nature to be curious and skeptical at the same time,” he grinned, then changed
the subject to point to the top of the hill. “There's a great view from that knob. Do you want to ride up and take a look?”

“Sure.”

This time there was no trail to follow and Linc had to blaze a new path. It was long and twisting, dictated by the course of least resistance. Even then, Joanna still found herself dodging and ducking low-hanging tree limbs. Occasionally their progress was punctuated by the strike of metal against stone as the shod horses scrambled over rocky stretches.

As they neared the top of the hill, the ground became barren of trees and undergrowth. The slope became steep and the horses lunged the last few feet to the crest. Joanna reined in her horse beside Linc's and let it blow.

He stepped out of his saddle in a single, coordinated move and held the bridle of her horse while she dismounted to join him on the ground. The muscles in her legs quivered slightly, showing the strain of the ride.

“I have the feeling I'm going to be stiff tomorrow,” she said.

“A long soak in the tub tonight should ease most of the soreness.” Linc released the reins to both bridles, letting the ends trail loose.

The horses were trained to stand when the reins dragged the ground. They lowered their heads to graze on the tufts of sun-yellowed grass on the knoll.

His hand rested on her shoulder near the base of her neck, its slight pressure guiding her away
from the horses. Joanna took her first look at the panoramic view from the high knob. The western horizon was turning yellow as the fiery gold orb of the sun sank lower in the sky. In all directions, there was the roll of high-ridged hills that seemed without end, their slopes thick with trees. The vantage point gave her a view of the many-armed lake, its surface shimmering like glass.

“I promised you a view,” Linc said.

Joanna realized they had stopped. “You were right.” It was an understatement but there weren't any words to do it justice.

“The Ozark Mountains are one of the oldest mountain ranges in the country, possibly the world. You're looking at what is probably the last hardwood forest we have,” he explained.

She became conscious of the weight of his hand on her shoulder and the touch of his fingers against the sensitive skin on her neck. Through her clothes, she could feel the warmth of his body heat as he stood close beside her. It rippled through her like the spreading heat of a warm fire.

“The mountain men trapped their furs here and the Indians hunted the game of the forests, but this area wasn't really settled until the start of the nineteenth century. Most of the early pioneers came from the Southern Appalachians. They brought with them their stories, superstitions, and sure-cure remedies. The very roughness of the land isolated them from the rest of the world and gave birth to their culture.”

“Where did they learn all their superstitions?” Joanna wondered. “From the Indian? The Negro?”

“As I said, they came from the Appalachians, which was settled mainly by the English. I guess there are areas where even the accent is decidedly English. So are the songs and stories. “

“And the English claim to have an abundance of ghosts haunting their many castles,” she remembered. A scattering of clouds were turning orange as the sun began to settle behind them. “Look at the sunset,” she murmured.

“Let's settle back and watch it,” Linc stated and pressed his hand on her shoulder to push her to the ground.

While she sat cross-legged, Linc stretched out on his side, propping himself up with an elbow. He tore off a long blade of grass and chewed on one end. The cloud-haze turned the sun into a crimson red ball that spread its stain across the sky. Joanna watched the hues change from gold to coral and red.

“People aren't going to believe me about this place,” she declared.

“Why?”

“Back in California, they will laugh when I tell them about nearly running into a wagon pulled by a team of mules. They'll think I made it up. You have to admit it does sound farfetched,” she pointed out with a wry shake of her head. “Then there's Jessie.”

“He does have to be seen to be believed,” Linc agreed.

“They'd think I was crazy if I told them how Jessie predicted I would be kissed twice before nightfall just because that cardinal flew across my path. And the ghost stories, and looking between a horse's ears to see one.” It stretched the imagination too far.

“And how will you describe me to your friends?” He watched while he twirled the blade of grass between his fingers.

“You?” Joanna repeated, momentarily at a loss for a reply. “Oh, well”—she stalled—“that's easy. I'll just describe this bossy man, always throwing his weight around and telling people how to behave. You are the only blight on an otherwise perfect vacation.” She deliberately baited him.

“Is that a fact?” Linc rose to the challenge.

With a laugh, Joanna attempted to elude his reaching hand, but he caught the loose fold of her blouse near the waist. It checked her escape long enough for him to grab an arm with his other hand. Her laughing shriek didn't faze him as he dragged her backward onto the ground.

She struggled briefly, trying to get free, but his superior strength was too much for her. She stopped fighting him and lay passively under his grip, her head resting on the ground while silent laughter dominated her expression. She looked up at him, out of breath.

“I was only kidding,” she insisted, unable to sound totally serious. “I'm sorry, really.”

“How sorry?” Linc demanded.

Something in the tawny gleam of his eyes
changed the mood from playful to one that was filled with a sexual tension. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs as she felt the weight of his body pressing down on hers, holding her to the ground.

His hands pinned her wrists and his face was inches above hers. There was a raw ache inside her that seemed to spring from nowhere. Her gaze strayed to his mouth, its firm, well-cut line hovering above her.

“Line,” she murmured in unconscious longing.

He lowered his mouth onto hers in hard possession and all of her resistance went up in flames. Her lips parted as he kissed her deeply. She wasn't conscious of slipping her hands free of his grip, but somehow she had managed it because her fingers were threading through the springing thickness of his hair, rough and sensual against her palms.

She felt light and boneless, putty in his hands, hands that were caressing her with a sureness and ease. It was all very earthy and natural. When his fingers tugged her blouse free from the waistband of her jeans, it seemed right. Her nerve ends thrilled at the touch of his hand against her flesh, so warm and gently evocative, arousing and exploring.

She seemed filled with the golden fire of sundown, all radiant and glowing. It was a wild, new sensation that hinted at something greater. Needles of sexual excitement pierced her, stabbing
at her loins with the need to know that fulfillment.

When he pulled his mouth from hers, it was to explore the curve of her throat and descend to the high, warm swell of her breasts. The front of her blouse was opened to expose the creamy gold flesh of her braless torso.

Delicious shudders quivered through her when Linc mouthed the taut peak of her breast. His hands were stroking down her body, inviting the rhythmic movement of her hips against them. Their caress offered a vague satisfaction but not the complete kind that Joanna desired.

Her fingers tightened in the virile thickness of his hair, applying pressure in an attempt to express the urgent needs of her flesh. Tiny sounds were coming from her throat, sounds that Joanna wasn't conscious of making. His body weight shifted as he raised his head as if he intended to withdraw.

“Please.” Her voice wavered above a whisper, wanting him in the rawest sense. “Don't stop now, Linc.” She was practically begging him to make love to her but she didn't care.

The dark blaze of the setting sun cast a burnished light on his stark, powerful features. They held only one expression, the same one she was feeling.

“Why?” He wanted her to verbalize her reason, to admit to the passion consuming her bones.

But that required an honest examination of
her emotions. All she wanted was to enjoy these sensations. Words seemed totally unnecessary at a time like this. A much more satisfactory communication could be achieved through physical expression.

“What difference does it make?” Her fingers linked together behind his neck to pull him down to her once more. “Just let it be something to tell my friends.”

She closed her eyes in anticipation when Linc started to give in to the pressure of her hands. A second later, his fingers were gripping her wrists and pulling her arms from around his neck. In dazed confusion, she opened her eyes and blinked at the harshness of his features.

As he stood up, Linc pulled her to her feet. Joanna staggered against him, her sense of balance slow to return. There was a controlled roughness to his touch when he steadied her.

“What is it?” She didn't understand what was the matter with him. Why was he so angry?

“The sun's almost down. We have to start back or else we'll be riding in the dark.” He let go of her and covered the distance to the horses with long, impatient strides.

Joanna followed him, stumbling as she tried to hurry. While part of her mind conceded that there was a legitimacy to the reason he'd given her, she knew instinctively that it wasn't the real one. When she reached him, he had gathered the reins to both horses.

“What did I do wrong, Linc?” Joanna persisted in her determined search for an explanation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His mouth was grim. “You'd like to go back to that patch of grass and finish what we started, wouldn't you?” Her cheeks reddened at his bluntness. It sounded so crude and animalistic put that way. “Well, I don't,” he snapped.

“Why?” She was stung into challenging him. “You seemed anxious enough a few minutes ago.”

“Maybe I just don't like the idea of being a vacation fling—someone to brag to your friends about back in California.” He threw the words in her face.

“As if
you
wouldn't brag about it to
your
friends,” Joanna retorted with sarcasm. “Or are you a saint?”

“I'm no saint.” There was a flatness to his voice as Linc worked to bring his anger under control—and succeeded. “Indiscriminate sex was all right when I was young and wild. If the girl was willing, so was I.” In the slight pause, his gaze raked her. “Now I want her to be ready, too.”

“What makes you think I was willing?” Joanna thoughtlessly snapped at his presumptive statement.

His look became dry and mocking. “You were the one who said—don't stop now.” He let the simple statement speak for itself as his hand cupped her elbow and pushed her toward the bay horse. “Mount up.”

Her cheeks were flame red as Joanna realized how brazen and immoral that sounded. With an
angry little flounce, she spun away and stripped the reins from his hand. The muscles in her leg cramped when she attempted to lift her foot into the stirrup.

She had to grit her teeth against the soreness, but she was determined not to ask Linc for assistance. He was already astride the buckskin by the time she was able to pull herself into the bay's saddle.

She fired him an angry look and turned her horse, pointing it down the hill the same way they had come. “We're going this way,” Linc stated. She glanced over her shoulder to see that he was heading in another direction. “It's a shortcut back to the road. We should be able to make it that far before we lose all the light.” He explained why they were using a different route.

“Why didn't you say so?” she retorted and reined her horse in a semicircle to join up with him.

“You didn't ask,” he said calmly and started his horse out at a brisk walk.

They traveled several yards before Joanna gave in to the need to defend her reputation. “For your information, I don't sleep around.”

“I don't remember saying that you did,” Linc replied with a brief glance.

“You seemed to have the impression that—”

He reined his horse to an abrupt halt and reached across to grab the reins of her mount, stopping it and leaning toward her. His level gaze seemed to bore into her.

“I don't see the point in conducting a post mortem. Nothing happened and nothing is likely to happen, so why don't we leave it at that.”

She wanted to argue with him but he had removed any grounds for continuing the subject. His logic was irrefutable. She lowered her chin in a silent acknowledgment of the fact, signaling her agreement to his suggestion.

“Why do you have to make an issue out of everything, Joanna?” he sighed and released her horse's reins.

“I don't,” she denied that as her horse started forward the instant the buckskin strided out.

“Yes, you do.” There was a half-smile on his mouth and amusement in his glance. “In another two seconds, you're going to prove it by opening your mouth to argue that you don't argue over everything.”

His statement forced her to keep silent, because it was precisely what she had been going to do. Only now she couldn't. His low chuckle indicated that he knew it.

“You think you're so smart, Linc Wilder,” Joanna muttered in irritation. “But you're really not.”

“I'm smart enough to know if we don't hurry it will be dark before we reach the road.” He prodded his horse into a canter.

The bald knob of the mountain was still bathed in the golden light of the setting sun but the woods were casting longer and longer shadows. Joanna realized how quickly the twilight
was encroaching when they rode into the trees. Allowing Linc to take the lead, she pulled her horse back and pointed its nose at the dappled hindquarters of the buckskin.