Luke’s Runaway Bride (19 page)

The train whistle blasted and Jenny’s heart lurched at the sound. As the steam locomotive rumbled out of the station, she stared out the smudged window. On the platform, people waved goodbye to friends and loved ones. No one waved to her.

She was finally leaving Cheyenne.

How long had she hoped for this day of escape from Luke McLintock? Now that it was here, she wished she weren’t going.

Adjusting her bonnet, she sighed and glanced ahead, at the half-filled wooden benches of the railcar. Folks were chattering, some with crates of rabbits and roosters and ducks on their knees, and worn, scarred luggage pushed beneath their feet.

She’d made the right decision. Wrapping her sweaty fingers around her satchel’s leather handle, she told herself again.
She had.

Then why did her stomach feel so queasy? She pressed it and tried to calm her flutters. Would she ever see Luke again?

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter to anyone except her.

Escaping the cabin hadn’t been that difficult. Last night, she’d packed her satchel, and when the others were occupied with supper, she hid it behind the junipers over the first rise. At dawn, she had Beuford saddle her mare, as he had the four other mornings when she and Olivia had gone for their ride. Except this time, she’d told him, Olivia wasn’t joining her, and she wouldn’t go far. Poor Beuford. She hoped he wouldn’t catch too much trouble from Luke for letting her slip away.

Two gray-haired, well-to-do women slid into the seats ahead of her. Jenny found herself amused by their conversation and happy to be distracted by their Boston accents. Their husbands, carrying crisp shiny baggage, slid in across the aisle. The women complained about the dust on their seats. Then they complained about the ticket prices. When the train rounded a bend and the sun streamed through the window, they complained about the heat.

“I’ll have to write my sister back home,” said the big-bosomed lady with the clustered diamond ear-bobs and smart red hat. “At how inferior and
dull
everything is here.”

Her thin friend nodded. “The sister who married the surgeon?”

“No, the one who married the juggler in P.T. Barnum’s Circus.”

One of the gents leaned forward to the women. “You know, there’s Indians out here,” he said, then elbowed the man beside him, stifling a laugh. “A pretty head of hair like yours, I think they’d be mighty interested.”

The big-bosomed woman snickered. “If they grab my scalp, they’ll just get a handful of wig.”

Her friend giggled and winked at her husband. “My Wilbur has a fine head of long gray hair. Maybe they’d be interested in his scalp.”

The group laughed. “Sometimes they got train robbers, too,” said the big-bosomed lady.

The thin lady sniffed. “Those are stories people make up.”

“No, my sister told me. She showed me a newspaper article.” The feathered red hat turned to the window. “Oh, my heavens, what in tarnation is that?”

“It’s a man on horseback.”

“Oh, my God, it’s a train robber!”

Jenny spun to look. A large man on horseback. White shirt, black denims and black vest. A black bandana around his throat and black felt Stetson. No, it couldn’t be.

Luke.
Her pulse beat erratically. What was he doing here?

Luke was barreling across the golden wheat fields, giving it all he had.

Jenny sank back in the seat. He was coming to get her. Why didn’t he stay out of it? Her plan was a good one.

The old folks panicked. The big-bosomed one yanked off her diamond ear-bobs and shoved them into the crevice of her blouse. “Someone get that ticket man! We need help! We’re getting robbed!”

Wilbur sprang from his seat with something shiny in his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a gun!”

The crowd screamed.

Jenny gasped and sprang to her feet. “Don’t shoot him! He’s not a robber!”

“How do you know?” Wilbur pointed his derringer out the open window. His thick gray mane billowed in the wind.

“No, don’t shoot! He’s my friend! His name is Luke McLintock and he owns a saloon in Cheyenne. Doesn’t anyone here recognize him?”

A lone man with a baritone voice spoke up, the Texan who often drank at the bar. “Yup, it’s Luke.”

Wilbur lowered his gun and Jenny sagged with relief.

Luke and his horse were almost at the railcar’s door. “Don’t anyone tell him I’m here. Please!” She crouched to the floor behind her bench, feeling dirt and grit beneath her fingertips.

Two seconds later, heavy boots hit the wooden floor. “Everyone remain calm,” Luke boomed. “I’m looking for a woman.”

“So am I,” the baritone said, and the crowd laughed.

“Anyone seen a pretty blond lady, about so high?”

“In the back,” they shouted with no hesitation. “She’s over there.”

Jenny groaned. So much for neighborly assistance.

The steady thud of his approaching footsteps echoed the pounding in her chest. She clamped her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, she was staring at two tan leather cowboy boots.

“Drop something?” Luke whispered with amusement, above her bonnet.

In a huff, she raised herself to her full height and confronted the exasperating man. “Lose someone?”

He looked flushed and overheated. Perspiration trickled down his dark temples. With a provocative twinkle in his eye, he replied, “Matter of fact, I did.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the aisle. “You’re coming with me.”

“Again?”
She pried her hand free from his sweaty grasp. “Just like that, you’re going to take me again?”

With a guttural moan, he stepped closer and peered down, inches from her face. “All right, this time I won’t force you. I don’t know what kind of scheme you’ve hatched in that pretty little head of yours, but I’m not letting you face him alone. We’ll do it together.” His voice softened. “Now, please, I’m asking you to jump with me.”

She swallowed. “Jump?”

He fingered the brim of his hat. “Please.”

She hesitated and looked out the door at the swirling field below.

“I’d go with him,” the big-bosomed lady shouted amid the laughter.

“After you,” Luke said to Jenny. With a challenging grin, he removed his hat and made a sweeping gesture.

Despite her apprehension, her heart squeezed with delight.

He’d come for her. Luke had come for her.

The train was rounding a curve and slowing down. Now was a good time to jump.

Jenny pitched her satchel first. It careened down the grassy bank and spilled open. With a final study of the moving ground, she took a deep breath and flung herself through the air.

“Y
ou all right?” Luke asked.

Jenny looked fine to him. Matter of fact, how could a woman look so good, dressed in someone else’s old blouse and skirt, covered with sweat and bits of grass?

Surrounded by wheat up to her luscious behind, Jenny stood up and beat dust from her skirt. Her lips tightened in response, and he smiled to himself, knowing she was fine. Hurt pride, maybe, but that was easier to mend than a broken bone.

In the field, Luke whistled to his horse, and it cantered toward them. The train careened around the curve and sped off, steam billowing from its engine.

He took three long strides and reached for his fallen hat. “What did you plan on doing in Denver? What exactly did you think you’d say to Daniel?”

“I wasn’t planning on going to Daniel. I was going to go directly to my father.” She stalked through the wheat, heading for her satchel, yards ahead. He followed, helping to gather her strewn clothing along the way.

“It’s not your father’s problem. It’s my problem and I’ll solve it.” He handed her a thin white blouse.

She yanked it from him and shoved it into her satchel. “Why do you always have to do everything alone?”

“Don’t get mad all over again.”

“It’s not all over again. It’s a continuation!”

“Why? I saved your behind back there.” He reached for one long black stocking, impaled on a shaft of wheat, blowing in the breeze. “If you went to Denver, God knows what Daniel might have done to you. You should be thanking me—”

“You should be the one thanking
me.
” With an angry puff, she blew the hair from her eyes and tore the stocking out of his fingers before he’d barely touched the silky thing. “I saved
your
behind. The passengers had a gun trained on you.”

“They did?”

“One of these days you’re going to get your head blown off. Do you know you’re severely unbalanced? Chasing a train like that?”

She picked up—what was it? A set of white drawers? His body tingled with interest as he watched her jam it into her bag. The lady could make anything look seductive. Even jamming. With the movement, her hair spilled from its clasp, her gentle hips rocked and her breasts swayed.

“Well, then—” he gulped “—I’m glad you saved me. Much obliged.”

She tossed her head in that maddening, alluring way and glanced at his blood bay. “Now what are we going to do?”

He spotted a lacy rose chemise just behind her and stepped toward it. “We’ll get on the horse and we’ll return to town. Everyone else will be there by now.”

“You packed up the camp?”

He reached the chemise and picked it up. It was very soft and feminine. It didn’t look worn, couldn’t possibly be something Daisy would wear. Had Jenny bought it or made it? He envisioned her in it, her rosy nipples peeking through.

“I’ll take that.” Slightly flushed, she yanked it from his hold. “I said, did you pack up camp?”

Was she talking? “Yeah,” he answered. A trickle of moisture dribbled down his spine. The sun was hot. And those warm chinook winds seemed warmer than usual. “I’ve had enough of hiding. I’m going to bring this into the open. The sheriff’s involved. Especially since—”

“Since what?”

Luke slid the bandana from his throat and dabbed his wet brow. “While I was getting to town this morning, Harley took some shots at me. At least I think it was him. Tom was with me. While I tore south for your train, he went north to chase Harley.”

Jenny’s shapely body slumped onto the grass. As she lowered herself to the ground, the anger on her proud face faded.

He slid down next to her. His broken fingers hit the ground and he was unable to stifle his moan.

“What’s wrong?” she asked with concern.

“On the way here, I think I rebusted my little finger.” It began to throb again. Everything in him was throbbing, but for different reasons.

“Oh, Luke, let me see.”

He groaned at her soft touch. “That’s the one.”

She put her light hand on his bruised shoulder and he groaned again.

“That hurts, too?”

“A little.”

She whispered, “Well, you’re just a mess, aren’t you?”

Her breath felt warm at his throat. He turned and peered into her deep blue eyes and his pulse skittered. Must every look and touch from Jenny send him reeling, in full sexual alert?

“What about you? You sure you didn’t get hurt from the jump?”

“My leg’s a little sore, but it’ll be fine.”

He dipped toward her. His large muscular shoulder brushed her slender one. “Truce?” he murmured, captivated by her smooth skin and full pink lips.

Something seemed to awaken in her. Her eyes shimmered, staring at him. “Truce,” she whispered.

Abruptly, she jumped up, went to the horse and returned with his canteen. “Drink some water,” she urged, standing above him.

Water? What he wanted from her was more than water. And he’d never be able to quench that thirst. “After you,” he offered. She sipped, then he drank. “The horse needs water, too. I rode it hard.” He gazed out to the fields. “There’s a creek half a mile back. We’ll ride there and give the horse a chance to rest.”

She agreed, and after he anchored her satchel to the horse, he pulled her up and eased her into the saddle.

As they rode, her womanly body stretched in front of him and contact was inevitable. The back of her hot, moist thighs slid against the muscular front of his own. It reminded him of another time. The first time he rode with her, where every graze of her flesh aroused him. Now, inches from her neck, he inhaled the clean, sweaty scent of her and tried not to dwell on her sensual curves.

With every little jostle of the horse, their bodies crushed together and she jolted forward, as if touched by lightning. Did he have that affect on her, or was his imagination running wild?

Thank God the ride was short. Luke hitched the horse under a brilliant gold cottonwood. While it drank the flowing water, Luke removed his duster from his saddlebag and laid it out in the shade of several quaking aspens.

Still silent, Jenny didn’t meet his gaze.

She slid down to his coat, sitting with legs stretched before her. God, those shapely calves. Twining her fingers through her long, loose hair, she twirled it behind her neck and replaced the clasp. Luke wished she’d leave it down. He loved the way her straight hair tumbled down her supple shoulders.

He gulped and slid down beside her, gazing out toward the distant mountains. Cool mountain air reached them in the gentle breeze. The smell of moss and damp earth and dry leaves filled his nostrils.

“Taking the train back to Denver like that, you put yourself in a lot of danger.”

She smoothed her hair with her slender hands, then flattened them in her lap. The buttons of her blouse strained from the pressure of her breasts, and he ached to release them. “I suppose.”

He sucked in his breath sharply and, unable to stop himself, reached out and cupped her shoulder. He felt her shudder beneath his touch. “You did that for me?”

The warmth of her soft flesh was intoxicating. His hand trailed to her hair clasp. He undid it, heard her soft moan and wrapped his fingers around the satiny strands.

She stilled but didn’t move away. “I did it for Adam.”

She wouldn’t admit she’d done it for him, too. Lord, she was stubborn.

“Why did you come after me?” Her voice trembled, and its vibration strummed through his body.

His hand left her hair and moved down her spine, searching out the hollow curve. Her lips parted with a soft gasp.

Could he admit
his
true feelings? Or was he just as stubborn? “Because I couldn’t believe what you did for me. Because when I woke up this morning and found out you’d disappeared, I was terrified I’d never see you again.”

He gazed at her face, so beautiful and vulnerable. His muscles went tight with the effort to avoid her. To avoid this.

“I want you, Jenny, in every sense of the word. I’m so damn attracted to you I don’t know which end is up.”

“Oh,” she moaned aloud.

Dazed and aching with frustration, he couldn’t breathe. This woman controlled him, body and mind. With her raspy breathing, her chest rose and fell. His pulse bounded as he eyed the swell of her breasts.

“You’re irresistible.” In one swift movement, he pulled her close and pressed his mouth to hers. She opened gently for him, like a spring flower opening its petals to accept the welcome rain. Their tongues met, and with every soft caress, his blood rushed faster and he grew harder with arousal.

“You’re all wrong for me,” she said gently, laughing into his mouth, kissing his throat until he went weak, being very careful to avoid the stitches on his face.

“I know.” He pressed her down onto his duster and stretched out his long legs, half on top of her.

She quivered. “You’re much too controlling.”

He grinned softly. “That I am.”

She wound her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with the same scorching passion. “And much too preoccupied with yourself, always wanting to be alone.”

“Umm,” he murmured, pressing his face to her throat, which was soft and warm and fresh.

“And,” she said, lightly tracing her fingertips down the buttons of his shirt, driving him wild with the pleasurable sensation, “you have a way of turning my life upside down.”

“I know I do.” His hands slid to the curve of her waist and over the fabric of her sleek, graceful hips.

“I’m wrong for you, too,” she said. “I’m much too judgmental.”

He was lost now, and he’d agree to anything she said. “Yes, you are.”

Her eager touch matched his own as she stroked his thigh. He groaned. If she continued that for long…

“
I
like to have my life mapped out in front of me,” she continued earnestly, “but
you
seem to go wherever life leads you.”

He loved the sound of her soft voice, even if she analyzed all day.

He ravaged her sweet lips and worked his way down her throat, letting his tongue wet the cloth over her nipple, listening to her moan in pleasure. Trailing his hands down to her waist, he eased himself between her knees and grasped her buttocks, filling his large hands with her rumpled skirts and silky mounds, and pressing her to him.

“Oh, Luke,” she said, flushing with the heat of arousal, “what am I going to do with you?”

“Well, let’s take this off.”

Laughter caught at the back of her throat. Her eyes glistened with joy. What a beauty. With smooth, easy movements, he unbuttoned her blouse and untucked it from her waistband.

“Oh, no,” he groaned, “you’re wearing that purple corset.”

He dipped his head to her bosom. She grasped his head and guided his lips to her nipple. When it popped out of her corset, a silky brown circle, he slid his mouth over it and suckled. She gasped with pleasure. He wanted to please her. He never wanted to stop. He tugged at the laces that bound her corset until he’d slid it off.

Gazing at her, he couldn’t breathe. A slow, sweet ache spread through his muscles. How had he come to deserve such a kindhearted, generous woman? “You’re like a sculpture, you’re so beautiful.”

Shadows from the leaves above them played on her ivory breasts. Sunlight shimmered in her hair and the sweet scent of the breeze wove between them. He looked into the blue depths of her eyes and couldn’t move. She gazed at him with such pent-up emotion and expectation he desperately hoped he could live up to it. He never ever wanted to hurt her.

She began undoing his shirt buttons with increased fervor.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against her lips, suspecting, knowing, she was a virgin.

“I’m sure,” she said in a whisper, helping him to release the buttons of his pants.

“Then I’ll try to please you slowly.” He tugged off his boots, then unbuckled his belt. When he slid out of his pants, her eyes dropped to his arousal and her cheeks flushed. He lifted her chin to meet his eyes, and kissed her deeply. “You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid.”

He hiked up her skirt, then her petticoats, and tugged at the drawstring of her drawers. When she helped glide them over her bountiful hips, he gently slid his fingers up her legs to her soft, feminine center. She moaned into his mouth and he gasped with the thrill of pleasing her.

He nibbled at her bottom lip, then trailed his mouth along her jaw and throat. Her breathing grew more rushed, her heart racing beneath his own. A sheen of dewy perspiration glittered on her skin. When she reached her peak, he kissed her face, yearning to give her everything, every part of him. A feeling of deep peace engulfed him. After years of being alone, he felt like he’d finally come home.

When his kisses reached the soft rise of her belly, she shivered, and he ached to fill her. He needed her. His Jenny. She’d always be his Jenny. “I’ve never felt this way, about anyone,” he offered tenderly.

She nodded, stroking his cheek, her face radiant. “Make love to me, Luke, I want to feel you.”

“I want to feel you, too.”

Consumed with desire, he covered her with his body.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, welcoming his touch. His swollen shaft entered, and exquisite pleasure rippled through him. He started to deepen their contact, feeling her stretch around him.

He arched against her, with a slow tender pressure. How long had he yearned to hold her like this? To show her how much he cared for her?

His lips grazed her temple. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she murmured.

She pulsated where they joined. She moaned in sweet agony. With a quick thrust, he was inside her. A frown flashed across her brow, then it was gone, and he felt her tension easing beneath him.

“I want this to last forever,” she said.

He nodded, overwhelmed with the sensations, hypnotized by her touch. By her soul. He wanted it to last forever, too.

When she flattened her hot palms on his waist, then ran them up his back, he groaned and submitted to his need for her. They clung to each other, his hips rocking faster and faster until he cried out, gasping with fulfillment, dismayed at how much he loved her.