Savage Thunder (24 page)

C
olt returned with a pheasant and two small quail, some rather large eggs that likely belonged to another species of bird, a leather pouch of greens and what Jocelyn supposed were wild onions, and another one containing an assortment of berries. His pockets had been stuffed with nuts, which he seemed to take pleasure in dumping into her lap as he squatted down next to her.

She was surprised by the variety of his provender. She had been expecting a dead animal she would have to suffer watching him skin. She was also piqued by his long absence, which had allowed her imagination and fears to run wild.

“What, no deer?”

He answered her as if he hadn’t detected the sarcasm in her tone. “You scared away all the big game with your screaming. I warned you that might happen.”

“That was miles back.”

“I meant when you—”

“Don’t say it!” she gasped, vaguely recalling how noisy she had gotten at several points during their passionate ride. She lowered her eyes to the pile of nuts in her lap, realizing it was her fault it had taken him so long to find food for them. “I’m sorry I
snapped at you. I had begun to think you weren’t coming back.”

His hand touched the side of her head and came away with one of her hairpins, which released a long red lock to fall over her breast. “I see you brought more of these along. Am I going to have to steal them all from you before you let your sun free?”

She glanced at him in bemusement. “My sun?”

“Your hair, Duchess. My people would say you had captured the sun in it.”

“How poetic,” she said as he reached for another pin and another lock fell. She was unaccountably pleased by his fascination with her hair. “You’re not angry I scared all the animals away?”

“You didn’t.” He met her green gaze when he admitted that. “I don’t like to waste food, and to kill a large animal when we don’t have time to preserve the meat to take with us would be a waste.”

It was amazing how quickly her temper shot to the surface, but even more amazing how he defused it simply by raising a questioning brow at her. And then he laughed when he saw she wasn’t going to explode.

“Are you still afraid I’ll quit on you, Duchess?” he asked knowingly.

“No, you don’t quit, or so you’ve assured me. I guess I deserved that little lie about the animals, however. I shouldn’t have greeted you the way I did after you went to so much trouble to lay a feast before me.”

“Yet you were worried,” he said with a slight frown. “I wouldn’t go so far off that I couldn’t hear you if you needed me. You had nothing to fear in that
respect. But how could you think I wouldn’t come back to you?”

She lowered her eyes again. “I remembered how much you dislike white women.”

“And you’re whiter than most, aren’t you?” The back of one finger grazed her cheek as he said that.

“You’ve never tried to hide how you feel.”

“I see. Well, I disliked you a helluva lot today, didn’t I?”

Her head shot up. “You lost control again, like before. That’s perfectly understandable, given the way I fell asleep on you.”

She was blushing furiously by the time she had finished explaining away his actions for him. But Colt was shaking his head at her, and she had the feeling he was angry now, though she couldn’t be sure. He was wearing that stoical expression of his that could be so exasperating.

“The only control I lost today was of my patience, woman. And if I disliked you, there’s no way in hell you could heat my blood the way you do.”

“I do?” she asked stupidly.

“You know damned well you do.”

His tone annoyed her, even as his words pleased her. “Well, you dislike
that
, don’t you?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve stopped fighting it.” He leaned forward to grind his lips against hers as if to prove his point, but his voice was less harsh when he added, “If it hasn’t sunk into that pretty head of yours yet, you’ll be sharing my blankets until we reach Cheyenne, and that, Duchess, pleases the hell out of
me. So don’t doubt I’ll be back each day. There isn’t much that could keep me away.”

Jocelyn couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that. To have their arrangement spelled out so literally was disconcerting. So was the warmth flowing through her bloodstream after hearing it. She should protest that he had taken too much for granted. She had never agreed they would be lovers for the duration. The very idea…was so thrilling it stole her breath away. And what, after all, could she say about it? As he had pointed out, the choices were all his to make for the time being.

As if he had read her mind, Colt smiled at her in what was possibly the most beautiful smile she’d ever encountered—then moved off to see to the food. She found that rather arrogant of him, but still said nothing. What was the point? Even if she tried to argue about their arrangement for propriety’s sake, her heart wouldn’t be in it, and he would know that. And she wasn’t a hypocrite. She had honestly thought she wouldn’t want him again, but he had proved her wrong.

Her eyes moved leisurely over his body as he dug a hole next to the small fire she had started. She had heard of people baking things in the ground before, and assumed that was what he was going to do with their birds. Not that she was interested in food just then, for her eyes noticed the way his leg muscles bulged when he squatted like that. She recalled that she hadn’t seen him completely without clothes yet, and realized that she soon would, perhaps even tonight. Good Lord, just thinking about it caused a flut
tering in her belly. Safer thoughts were definitely called for.

“You aren’t going to ask me if I can cook, are you?”

He shook his head without glancing at her. “If you said yes, I’d be forced to give you a try at it, whether you were lying or not. I’d rather have a full belly.”

Jocelyn laughed, well aware he wasn’t teasing. “So would I, so I’m grateful that at least one of us knows how. I was never allowed near the kitchen myself—the servants’ domain, you know. Not that I had any great desire to learn how to cook when I was growing up. I preferred the stables, actually, and no one thought to refuse me access there. But even my mother knew how to make pies, I’m told. I suppose I should have learned to cook at least one specialty, though. Every woman should have one thing she is especially good at, don’t you think?”

“You don’t do so bad, Duchess…at certain things.”

His pause brought color to her cheeks. “I meant in the kitchen.”

“I meant your way with horses.”

She couldn’t help grinning. “You’re a terrible tease, Colt Thunder.”

He caught her grin and returned it. “You’re not so bad with a rifle either.”

“Well, if we’re going to get into talents in general, then I must confess I don’t do badly at all. I’m rather good at sailing, archery, tennis, and bicycling.”

“And what?”

“Bicycling. You know, that contraption with two wheels and—”

“I know what it is. A damned two-legged horse. I saw plenty of them on the streets of Chicago, spooking the real thing and crashing into buildings. And you’re good at that?”

“I can get on the thing and off without a single fall, though I don’t like to count the numerous scrapes and bruises I received while learning to master it. But I agree they can be dangerous in the city. In the country, however, they are quite fun to drive. You ought to try it.”

“No, thanks, I’ll stick to the real thing.”

She tried to imagine Colt on a bicycle and almost laughed. No, she didn’t think he would like something that was so difficult to control.

The meal they shared was pleasant, the food delicious. The birds might have looked terrible since they hadn’t been plucked, but the meat inside was tender and tasty. She teased Colt about making a good wife for someone, but didn’t think he appreciated her humor.

Her humor didn’t last long, however. After she’d rinsed off the utensils in the creek—she thought she ought to do at least something to help, since he didn’t want her near the cook fire—she found herself overcome with shyness, especially when Colt very casually moved his blankets from where she had earlier placed them, to lay them next to hers.

She sat in the middle of hers, fully clothed, not knowing what to do, what was expected. She’d had this problem before, she remembered, but he’d helped
her then, told her what to do, led her through it. And desire, hot and impatient, had been present. Spontaneously coming together was different from this, however. Waking up in his arms was different too. Even thinking about going to bed with him wasn’t the same as actually doing it.

She wasn’t feeling desire at the moment, she was feeling extremely nervous, so much so that when Colt began to remove his jacket, she blurted out, “Shouldn’t you leave that on…because of the cold?”

“I won’t need it.”

“Oh.”

This just wouldn’t do. She needed time to calm her nerves. How
could
he be so nonchalant about it, to stand there in front of her and undress as if he did it every day?

When he unbuckled his gun belt, she quickly racked her brain for a subject to divert him and settled on Angel. “Tell me about your friend Angel.”

That arrested his movements. It also made him frown. “What about him?”

“I was wondering why he would do what he did for you, simply at your request. To insinuate himself with a band of dangerous brigands just to be available to help me in case I was captured, that was a bit much to ask of any man. Yet he did it for you.”

Colt stared at her a moment, decided it wasn’t actual interest in Angel that had prompted her curiosity, and shrugged. “He figured he owed me, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I helped him out of a bad situation a few years
back. He’d hired on at my sister’s ranch, been there only a week or two when he came across a small gang of rustlers stealing some of her stock. There were only four of them, or so he thought. He also thought he could take them all on by himself. Likely he could have pulled it off, but there were actually five in that bunch. The fifth one shot him from behind.”

“That bullet you mentioned your sister removing for him?”

“Yes.”

“Then you found him and helped him back to her ranch? That’s all there was to it?”

“There was a bit more. When I arrived, a gun was already cocked to finish him off. It was a matter of seconds.”

“Then you saved his life,” she concluded. “Well, that’s worth a favor or two, I suppose. And the rustlers?”

“I saved them a hanging.”

“You—oh, well, you needn’t go into detail about that.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he said with a knowing grin, having watched the way her eyes were following his hands. “Now, aren’t you going to undress?”

“The cold—”

“You won’t feel it, Duchess, I promise you.”

“But…”

“Yes?”

“This feels so—so awkward,” she said at last. “You haven’t even kissed me or anything.”

“That’s because I figured we could use some sleep,
or did you forget we didn’t get any last night? If I kissed you now, we wouldn’t get any tonight either.”

She started to laugh. “So
that’s
why you’ve been so blasted casual about this.”

“If you had other ideas—”

“No, no, sleep sounds most appropriate,” she said quickly and rose to fetch her valise. “I’ll just change into my nightgown.”

“We’ll be warmer if we’re both naked,” he told her as she headed for the nearest bush.

“But will we get any sleep that way?” she dared to ask.

“Go ahead and change.”

A
fter three years of traveling and seeing the world, Jocelyn finally felt as if she were on holiday. She was enjoying herself immensely, and feeling like a tourist. Everything she saw was beautiful and worth remembering, from the mountains that they moved in and out of to the plains that they used to cover greater distances in less time. The sky was beautiful, so blue, with the sun often shining. The rivers and creeks were sparkling and clear. Even the cold was a delight to be in. She could find no fault with anything, except maybe how quickly the time was passing.

They’d been traveling through Colorado for four days now, having crossed the mountains through the narrow Raton Pass, the scene of a near war between the railroads only a few years back, when the Denver & Rio Grande and the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroads had both raced to claim the route for their lines, the Santa Fe having won, surprisingly without bloodshed.

Traveling near the railroads gave Jocelyn a feeling of being back in civilization, but then Colorado had drawn thousands of prospectors and settlers to its wilderness ever since gold was discovered there in 1858. It was fairly well settled by now and had even earned statehood in 1876. If she didn’t see very much of the
settled parts, it was only because Colt tended to make a wide berth around farms, ranches, and towns.

That changed today, however. Sitting on the flat plain with the massive Rocky Mountains, topped by Pikes Peak, looking like an impregnable solid wall behind it was the small town of Colorado Springs, which they approached around noon. Colt said they might go on by train from here, and with visions of making love in a comfortable bed in a luxurious Pullman sleeper car, the countryside speeding by outside the window, Jocelyn didn’t object. He had intended to catch the train in Denver anyway for the last leg of the journey, and Denver was only two days north at the speed they had been traveling.

Colt paused before they entered the town, however, and Jocelyn was forced to wait while he braided his hair. That morning he had also removed the heavy coat he had been using on the frigid mountain trails, so that he was now wearing only a fringed buckskin shirt with his tight black pants and moccasins.

Jocelyn shook her head at him. “Why do you do that, go out of your way to flaunt your heritage? I know it causes you problems. It’s what led to that gunfight in Silver City, isn’t it?”

“So?”

“So if you cut your hair, dressed a little differently, you’d look perfectly normal, wouldn’t you—except maybe for your handsomeness. There’s nothing normal about that.”

He grinned at her, surprised that her question didn’t annoy him. Perhaps it was the way her eyes were
admiring him. It made him feel damned good when she looked at him like that.

“You do things your way, Duchess, and I’ll do them mine. Worse things can happen when folks make mistakes about you.”

“Worse than gunfights?” she snorted, but didn’t wait for an answer. “And if I’m to do things my way, you’ll have to give me back my hairpins.”

She held out her hand for them, but now he did the head shaking. “When we reach Cheyenne is soon enough for you to go back to being ‘Your Royal Grace.’”

She started to frown, until it occurred to her that this was a golden opportunity to do things she couldn’t do with the countess or her guard along. “In that case, while we’re waiting for the train, I wish to visit a brothel to—”

“Like hell!”

“Just to see what it’s like inside, Colt. I’ve always wondered—”

“Forget it, and I mean
forget it
.”

She did frown now, at his implacable expression. “A saloon, then,” she said as a compromise. “Surely you can’t object to that.”

“Can’t I?”

Before he flatly refused this too, she said, “Please, Colt. When else will I ever have such an opportunity? To come to this land and miss viewing one of its cultural phenomena? Once my people rejoin me, I can’t be so—bold.”

“You willing to wear pants and my coat?”

For a moment, all she heard was that he hadn’t said no. “Your pants? You must be joking.”

“No one said they had to fit, Duchess.”

She grinned suddenly. “You think to change my mind, don’t you?”

“Have I?”

“No.”

“Then let’s hope the train’s ready to pull out when we get to the station.”

It wasn’t. They had about two hours before the northbound train was scheduled to arrive. Jocelyn was pleased about that, but extremely disappointed to be told there were no Pullman sleeping cars available, until she noticed a small private railroad car in the station yard. She was told that it was owned by one of the more prosperous residents of the town, but newly purchased, so not for sale or rent. That of course meant nothing to her, and after thirty minutes spent in locating the man, exchanging messages back and forth, then a small pouch of gold, she had the car for her exclusive use all the way to Cheyenne.

Colt, having stood back and watched the effect her money and manner had on people—she didn’t even have to mention her title—could only shake his head. He stowed their gear in the car, then waited in the parlor section while she changed clothes in the small sleeping compartment. It reminded him of her coach with the velvet-upholstered walls and plush lounge chairs, but was much more gaudy with its silk-tasseled curtains, narrow gilt mirrors between each window, thick carpeting on the floor, ceiling in white oak, paneled and decorated with vines and flower pieces.
There was a Baker heater, a lavatory complete with sink and tub, a well-stocked bar, and even a piano off in the corner.

Colt looked around the room and wondered what the hell he was doing there. It suited the duchess, but the trappings of wealth were not for him. His one-room cabin in the hills above Jessie’s ranch didn’t even have a bed in it. Jessie had insisted on stuffing it with some furnishings, but a bed he had refused, preferring to sleep on the floor. And he had actually toyed with the idea of keeping the duchess? He’d been crazy to even think about it.

What he needed now was to get her off his hands for his peace of mind, which was why they were here. He liked being with her too much, like providing for her, liked her dependence on him. But the danger had been there all along, that this short time with her wouldn’t be enough, that he’d end up wanting to keep her permanently. He’d hoped it would be otherwise, but no such luck. He just hadn’t thought he’d feel so strongly about it.

Thinking about it brought back all the old bitterness and anger. It didn’t matter what he wanted, he couldn’t have her. She was white, he wasn’t. White women didn’t marry breeds unless they wanted to be ostracized by their own kind. She likely hadn’t forgotten that, even if he had for a while. She was amusing herself with him, but she’d walk away without a backward glance when the time came. Hadn’t she used him to dispose of her virginity so she could marry someone who would suit? Someone who would suit!

“I’m ready.”

Christ, even when she looked ridiculous, she looked good to him. “No, you’re not. Stuff that hair under your hat.”

She did, frowning at his tone. “Is something wrong?”

“Should it be?”

“You don’t really want to take me to a saloon, do you?”

“It makes no difference, Duchess…what I want.”

There seemed to be a double meaning there and it annoyed her that she couldn’t grasp it. His surliness was annoying too, since she’d thought she’d seen the last of it.

“Then if it makes no difference, shall we go?”

She didn’t wait for his consent, or for him. She left the car and marched angrily toward the main street. Colt jerked her around before she’d even left the station yard.

“You want to do this damn fool thing, then you’ll do it my way. Keep your hat on, your eyes lowered. You stare at some man looking like one yourself, and he’ll think you want to fight. Keep your mouth shut, too. And for Christ’s sake, don’t cling to me if something startles you. Remember you’re supposed to be a man. Act like one.”

“Like you? I don’t think I can manage that particular scowl, but you’ve got so many to choose from, I should be able to imitate at least one. How’s this?”

The face she made was his undoing. He turned her
about and shoved her forward before she noticed the grin he couldn’t keep back.

They didn’t have too far to go to find a saloon. “Do they brew gold here?” Jocelyn inquired after seeing the sign out front that read “The Gold Nugget Brewery.”

Colt wasn’t ready for any more of her humor just then. “Trouble is what they brew in these places, Dutch. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Dutch?” She grinned. “I assume that’s a manly nickname and not a nationality. Do I really look like a Dutch?”

“You look like something dragged in off the range,” he retorted and yanked her hat down to cover her delicate earlobes. “Christ, this will never work. One look at your face and it’s all over.”

“But what could happen if they know I’m a woman?”

“Anything, dammit.”

She could see he was about to change his mind about letting her go inside, so she backed up toward the batwing doors as she said, “Just five minutes, Colt, please. Nothing will happen in just five minutes.” And she pushed through the doors before he could stop her.