Nan Ryan (39 page)

“You want to die,
amigo?”
said the Texas Kid.

“No,
jefe.”

“Then you, Cuchillo,” the Kid waved the revolver, “and the rest of you had better stop your bellyaching. We are riding on, rain or no rain. Any man who’s opposed can damn well stay right here.” He grinned then, his teeth white against his wet, dark beard. “Forever.”

They rode on and no one dared complain, despite the lashing rains that made traversing the narrow, winding canyon trail extremely dangerous.

The heavy rains continued throughout the morning, washing silt over the canyon’s steep sides, sending rivers of water coursing down the treacherous path, and filling streams to overflowing.

And, up in a lush, green meadow, uncovering a gold cross and chain.

The cloudburst didn’t bother Lew and Mollie. They played in the rain like a couple of kids, laughing and squealing, unconcerned about getting their clothes wet because they wore no clothes.

After the leisurely dawn loving, Lew had asked Mollie if she would like him to show her a very special place farther back inside the canyon. A place where the entrance was so narrow a horse could not pass through.

“Should I get dressed?” she asked.

“You won’t need clothes where we’re going.”

Curious, Mollie clung to his hand while Lew led her deeper into the canyon crevice. The walls grew closer and taller. The two of them soon had to move single file, so tight was the trail. And even then they had to duck and turn to the side and climb over fallen rock and squeeze through tight places. At last Lew stopped and Mollie blinked when thick steam rose up to envelop them.

Lew, carefully pulling her around in front of him, asked, “Can you see it?”

Mollie squinted.

Through the rolling mists she saw that the canyon had widened dramatically and that they stood at the edge of a huge rocky room whose floor was a calm, clear pool. There was no path around it. The red cliffs on all sides were so tall and steep it would be impossible to edge along their faces.

“This is absolutely beautiful,” Mollie said, amazed, “and so concealed. How did you know it was here?”

“Dan Nighthorse and Clint Sellers and I used to swim here when we lived among the Apaches.” Lew pointed to the pool’s center. “How deep do you suppose it is?”

Mollie could see the bottom. Every tumbled boulder was visible. “Mmm, two, three feet.”

Lew chuckled. “Twenty.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“No. I’ll show you.”

With that he stepped around her and dove into the water. His gracefully arched body parted the surface of the limpid pool and went beneath. Mollie leaned forward and watched him swim about under water. She could see him so clearly he appeared to be under glass. Lew flipped onto his back, remaining submerged, opened his eyes and looked up at her. He picked up a rock and lifted it to show her that he was on the bottom.

When he dropped the pebble and made beckoning gestures with his hands, Mollie laughed. Then she took a deep breath and dove into the cold, clear pool, keeping her eyes wide open. She reached out to Lew. He took her hand and pulled her down to him. It was a strange sensation. She sat on Lew’s lap twenty feet under water and could see the tall sides of the canyon above, the changing sky, the first drops of rain peppering the smooth surface over their heads.

She turned to look at Lew. He smiled and tapped his lips with a forefinger, inviting her to kiss him. Mollie gripped his dark hair, leaned to him, and pressed her lips to his. But foolishly forgetting, both opened their mouths to deepen the kiss, and water poured in.

They shot to the surface, sputtering and coughing. Then, treading water, they tried the kiss again, this time achieving their goal. They kissed anxiously, their wet lips combined in a quickly heating kiss. The heavy rains began as they kissed there in the pool. When the prolonged kiss ended, they broke apart, turned their faces up to the sky, and laughed.

They stayed in the water and played in the pounding downpour as the sky darkened ominously and thunder rumbled through the canyon. They’d momentarily lose each other in the thick swirling mists and blinding rain, then find one another and kiss and hug as though they’d actually been lost. It was during one of those pleasurable reunions that Lew noticed Mollie’s bottom lip was trembling.

“Ah, baby, you’re freezing,” he murmured, pressing her to him. “Let’s go.”

Back at camp they chose a nice, dry place beneath a jutting overhang and Mollie lazily stretched out while Lew built a fire. When the flames were shooting high and generating welcome heat, he came to Mollie and stood there above her, his intense blue gaze sliding slowly over her naked body.

Smiling finally, he said, “I believe you have something of mine.”

Puzzled, Mollie glanced at the blanket beneath her. It was her own red-and-blue one. “What?”

In a low-timbred voice, Lew said, “My heart.”

For a long, uncertain minute Mollie stared at him. Afraid he was teasing her, she asked cautiously, “You mean it?”

Lew fell to his knees, stretched out beside her, took her hand, and placed it over his heart. “I do mean it, sweetheart. My heart belongs to you. I love you, Mollie. I love you.”

Mollie’s violet eyes widened as her own heart raced with wild happiness. But she said, “That is impossible. You can’t really love me, Lew. You know of my past, and I—”

“Everyone has a past; we’re planning our future.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss to her parted lips. When he lifted his head, his steady gaze held hers. “Our future is together in New Mexico. Marry me, Mollie. Be my first and last wife.”

“Your wife?” she repeated, dumbstruck.

“Yes. Just as soon as we reach Santa Fe. That is, if you’ll have me.”

“Oh, Lew!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down to her. “Yes, yes, yes,” she declared while tears of happiness filled her eyes. “I want to marry you! There’s nothing I want more than to be your wife.”

“You mean it?” he teased.

“You know I do.”

“Then kiss me and promise me you’ll be content to spend the rest of your days with me.”

Mollie gave him the kiss and the promise. Then, contented and tired from their long night of loving, they lay sheltered from the driving rains, talking quietly of their bright future together and speaking frankly about their pasts.

Mollie told him, finally, that her papa was dead and that was the reason she had come to live with Professor Dixon, an old friend of both her parents.

Listening, Lew said, “I felt awful about taking you away from the professor. He’s a good man and he must be worried sick.”

Mollie smiled mischievously. “I doubt it. I left him a letter telling him that we had eloped to New Mexico.”

Lew grinned. “I’m marrying a fortune-teller.”

“No, silly, I … I …”

Mollie stopped speaking. At the mention of a fortune-teller, her visit to the turbaned prophet on Maya’s carnival night came flooding back. “
I
see two weddings,”
the crystal gazer had said,
“two weddings, two men.”
Mollie’s eyes clouded and Lew felt a shiver rush through her slender body.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” he asked.

“Nothing. Nothing. Really,” Mollie lied and buried her face in Lew’s shoulder, closing her eyes tightly.

A cold sense of foreboding swept over her.

The Kid was alive. She knew he was. But she didn’t dare let Lew know. He believed that the Kid was dead, and she would never tell him differently. She loved Lew with all her heart and couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. She pressed closer to Lew, feeling safe in his strong arms. Maybe the Kid
was
dead. Maybe she had killed him.

Snuggling close, she said, “Tell me about Teresa.”

Lew’s voice was low and calm as he spoke of the Spanish girl he had once loved. He told Mollie everything and when he finally fell silent, Mollie, fighting her jealousy, said gently, “I am so sorry. I know that no one can ever take Teresa’s place, but I will try to make you happy.”

“Listen to me, sweetheart,” Lew captured her chin in his hand, turned her face up to his, “I have never been as happy as I am here and now with you. The past is dead, mine and yours, and there’s no room in my heart for anyone but you. I love you, Mollie, more than I’ve ever loved anyone.” All his love in his eyes, he kissed her with exquisite tenderness.

Mollie sighed, lay back down on his chest, and hugged him tightly as he mused aloud. “Your father’s dead. The Kid is dead. All the others have been brought in. It’s finally over.” His arms tightened around her. “I have the last of the Rogers Renegades right here in my arms.”

“Yes, you do,” Mollie was quick to agree and her thoughts turned dreamily to the wonder of how perfectly her body fit against his. “What do you plan to do with the last of the breed?” She blew gently on the crisp black hair of his chest and felt that sweet ache inside beginning anew.

“I plan to take you prisoner. Jail you forever in my house and in my heart,” Lew said and yawned.

“I see. How will you go about keeping the prisoner in line?” Mollie asked with a smile in her voice.

“I could always get out the handcuffs again and cuff you to me.”

Laughing softly, Mollie lifted her head. “I’ve a much better idea of how you can bind me to you.” Her eyes twinkled with naughty mischief.

“Woman,” he said, grinning, “you are becoming a wanton.” Quickly he changed their positions and Mollie, giggling, found herself flat on her back with Lew above her. “A beautiful, brazen wanton,” he murmured as his lips and his hands and the weight of his body brought her wave after wave of pleasure.

“Lew.”

“Hmm?”

“Will you make a me a promise?”

“Try me, sweetheart.”

Mollie smiled. “When we get to your New Mexico ranch, will you let me give you a bath in a tub on top of the dining table?”

Lew’s head shot up. His blue eyes held a pained expression. “Jesus, honey, you didn’t see … oh, God almighty … Mollie, I never … we never … Cherry and I were just—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mollie said, still smiling.

“Yes, it does. Sweetheart, I was very drunk that night in Prescott. I hardly remember what happened, but I’ll tell you what
didn’t
happen. I never—”

“Shhhh!” She lifted her fingers to his lips.

Lew swept her hand away. “I know how it must have looked, but I swear to you I didn’t sleep with Cherry Sellers. I have never been to bed with Cherry, no matter what you—”

“I know that.”

“You do? How?”

Mollie sighed and shrugged. “Never mind. I just know. Can we take a bath atop your dining table? It looked like such fun.”

Shaking his head with relief, Lew said, “We can bathe there every night if you’d like. Anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“No questions asked.”

She framed his handsome face in her hands. “Make love to me now, here, where we can hear and smell the rain.”

“Ah, baby, baby.”

While the rains lashed the rocky canyon a few feet from them, Lew and Mollie kissed and clung together, letting passion slowly, surely ignite.

“Lew,” Mollie said dreamily, looking into his smoldering blue eyes, “is this real? Are we really lying here naked in this rocky, rainy canyon or is it only a dream?”

He said,
“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”

Mollie smiled. “Poe?”

“Could be. Damned if I know. I love you, Mollie.”

“I’m glad,” she said, almost shouting now to be heard above the falling rain. “So glad.”

They made fierce love, challenging the storm. Then they slept peacefully in each other’s arms while the downpour continued. When, hours later, they awakened, the clouds had rolled away and a bright summer sun was shining.

Unhurriedly they dressed and broke camp.

They rode on up into the winding canyon. Lew had a spot in mind, a place he knew Mollie would like. The sun was starting its descent when they reached their destination.

“Lew!” Mollie shouted, pulling up on her mount and looking all around.

They were in a wide corridor of rock where there was nothing green in sight. No trees, no grass, no vegetation of any kind. Only rock. The entire floor was rock. Sheet upon sheet of smooth, flat, shiny rock. One side of the canyon corridor’s floor was bone-dry. But on the other side, slow-moving water spilled over the giant rocks, its depth mere inches.

“Nice?” Lew asked.

“Unbelievable. Unlike any place I’ve ever seen.”

“Want to stay the night here?”

“No. I want to stay the rest of my life here.”

He grinned and went about unsaddling the horses. “Honey, I’ll gather the firewood,” he told her. “You see what we have to eat.”

“Mmm,” Mollie answered, her gaze sweeping over the vast world of rock.

Lew left her there, returning less than a half hour later. He rounded a bend in the canyon, saw Mollie, stopped abruptly, and stood stock-still, staring. She hadn’t seen to their supper. She had taken off all her clothes and she sat now, splendidly nude, upon a huge flat sheet of rock in the shallow, crystal water.

Lew dropped the firewood. His eyes never leaving the beautiful untamed creature on the rocks, he swiftly stripped down to his skin. Mollie slowly turned her head, saw him, and smiled seductively. His heart thundered in his chest as he started toward her.

She sat there, leaning back, her weight supported on stiff arms, her long legs stretched out before her. Her face was tilted up to the sun, and her loose hair tumbled down her back.

Lew reached her.

“I thought you were hungry,” he said, standing between her and the sun.

Mollie’s violet gaze languidly climbed up his bare, brown body to his face. “I decided I was thirsty. I came out to get a drink.”

Lew dropped down beside her. “I’m thirsty myself.”

Mollie cupped her hand into the shallow water beside her hip, brought it up to his lips. “Then drink.”

Lew sipped the water from her palm, looked into her eyes, shuddered, and kissed her. An aggressive, intrusive kiss. As they kissed, Mollie put her arms around his neck and, bringing him down with her, leaned all the way back until she was reclining on the satin-smooth rock in the shallow water.