Spirit's Song (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

The sheriff, whose name was Joe Keegan, ran a hand over his jaw. “Victor Mazza. He’s a mean one.”

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed. He glanced around the office. It looked pretty much like every other jail he’d been in: a scarred desk, battered filing cabinet, gun rack on the wall, pot-bellied stove in the corner. “I’ve heard of Mazza a time or two, but he’s of no interest to me now. I just want Ravenhawk.”

“Well.” Keegan leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t reckon that will be a problem. I’ve got a dozen men ready to ride out at first light.”

“I’ll be here. How soon can I get that bounty on Claudill?”

“It should be ready by the time we get back from Mazza’s place.” The lawman shook his head. “Taking Mazza won’t be easy now that they’ve joined up with Nash.”

“Nothing’s ever easy,” Jesse said, rising. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right.”

Jesse left the sheriff’s office and headed for the hotel. If all went as planned, Ravenhawk and the others would be in custody by this time tomorrow. He’d collect the bounty on the Lakota, see Kaylynn safely back to her parents, and then…what?

He’d planned to go back to the Cheyenne, but even that had lost its appeal now. All he could think of was Kaylynn, and how important she had become to him.

Entering the hotel, he crossed the lobby. Pausing at the desk, he asked the clerk to send up some more hot water, and then he ran up the stairs, anxious to see her again, to make certain she was all right.

He knocked lightly on her door. “Kay?”

Anxiety twisted in his gut when she didn’t answer right away and he knocked again, louder this time. “Kaylynn, it’s me.”

“I’m coming.”

A moment later, she opened the door and he felt a rush of sweet relief. She was wearing the blue dress he had bought for her in Red Creek. Her hair, freshly washed, fell in damp waves down her back.

She smiled as she took a step back. “Come in.”

Jesse stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Everything all right?”

“Yes, fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Jesse shrugged. “Last time I left you alone, you weren’t here when I got back.”

“I’m fine. What did the sheriff say?”

“Not much. He wants you to stop by before we leave town and make a statement.”

“I’ll go in the morning.”

“You’ll have to wait until he gets back. We’re riding out after Mazza and his gang at first light.”

She didn’t want him to go. Would he stay if she asked him to?

Her gaze ran over him. Had she ever in her life been this happy to see anyone else? Certainly Alan hadn’t affected her like this. Even when she had loved him, or thought she had, his nearness hadn’t made her pulse race, hadn’t caused her heart to swell. She had never wanted Alan’s kisses. At the time, she hadn’t thought it strange that he sparked no desire in her. She had been ignorant of what went on between a man and a woman. She had assumed that her desire for Alan would bloom when they were married, but it never had. Was it desire that she felt for Jesse? Was it desire that made her think of him day and night, that made her burn for his kisses, that made her hungry for the touch of his hands on her flesh?

And what if it was? She could never surrender to the passion he aroused in her. She was a married woman, bound by vows of fidelity and loyalty to another man. And even though that man had betrayed her, had abused and abased her, she was still his wife.

The thought made her want to cry.

“Kay?” Jesse took a step toward her. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” She looked at him, torn by what she wanted and what she knew was right. “Nothing.”

“You can tell me.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t say it, couldn’t tell him that she loved him. With an effort, she swallowed the words she longed to say.

“Kaylynn.” Closing the distance between them, he took her in his arms. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

She rested her forehead against his chest so she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Dammit, Kay, don’t shut me out.”

“Why do you have to go with the posse?”

“You know why.”

“Because of Ravenhawk.”

“Yeah. That kid, Claudill, told me where the gang’s holed up. I’m going after him.”

“Where are they?”

“Some ranch not far from where they held up the stage.”

“I wish you wouldn’t go.”

Was it his imagination, or was there a faint note of worry in her voice?

“Why?” Jesse asked, his voice sharp. “You afraid he’ll get hurt?”

“I don’t want anything to happen to either of you.”

“That’s up to him.”

“How long will you be gone?”

Jesse shrugged. “Two, three days at most.” It would take them a day to reach the canyon. They’d spend the night outside, then go in at dawn. Another day to get back.

“Jesse…” She looked up at him, confused by the underlying note of anger in his voice.

“Are you sweet on him?” Jesse asked gruffly. “Is that why you’re so worried?”

“Of course not. But he helped me…”

“Helped you run away from me.” There was no mistaking the anger in his voice this time.

“I’m not running now, Jesse.”

She spoke the words so softly, he wasn’t sure he heard them right.

With a sigh, he drew her closer. “Dammit, Kay, do you know what you’re doing to me?”

She shook her head, her brown eyes wide as she gazed up at him. “Tell me,” she whispered, and he felt her breath move across his skin, warm, sweet.

“I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you.”

His voice, low and husky and filled with yearning, sent a shiver down her spine. Her heart began to pound as he bent his head and kissed her. And she was kissing him back, clinging to him, pressing herself against him, wanting him more than she wanted her next breath. A wild tide of desire flooded through her, making her forget everything but the touch of his lips, the erotic thrust of his tongue meeting hers in a dance as old as time.

“I’ve never needed a woman the way I need you.” His hand moved restlessly up and down her back. “You remember that poem you told me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s how I feel about you, Kay. You’re my spirit’s song. You make me feel alive again.” He pulled her closer, molding the length of her body to his, letting her feel the evidence of his desire.

And in that moment she experienced a thrill of excitement she had never known before. She wrapped her arms around him, wanting to be closer, closer, wanting to feel his body against hers.

“Ah, Kay,” he murmured, “what have you done to me?” He had never felt like this before. Never. Her touch moved through him, warm, welcome, making him feel weak, vulnerable. He ached for the taste of her.

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as his lips claimed hers. It was a gentle kiss filled with tenderness and a soul-deep yearning, a hunger that went deeper than the desire of the flesh. There weren’t words enough to describe the way she felt, her heart filled to overflowing with emotions she had never known before. No one had ever needed her. Alan had wanted her, but he had not needed her. She had the feeling now that he had married her simply because she had refused to give in to him until they were man and wife. Alan had wanted someone to bear him a son and she had been young and pretty and smitten with his charm. It hadn’t hurt that she came from a good family. Sad that neither of them had found what they were looking for.

She pressed herself more fully against Jesse, wanting to be closer still, reveling in his strength, in the strength and assurance of his arms tight around her.

She slipped her hands under his shirt, delighting in the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. She didn’t argue when he carried her to the bed. Lying beside her, he drew her into his arms, drawing her body up against the length of his while he rained kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her lips.

A wild longing suffused her, frightening and thrilling at the same time. This was passion, she thought. This was what love should be like, this soaring sense of freedom and desire, the burning urge to taste and touch, to caress and explore. She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against hers, to feel his weight pressing her into the mattress. Jesse wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t vent his lust on her and then turn away in disgust, the way Alan had done. Jesse would be gentle and kind and patient.

“Kay?” His voice was low and urgent, his breath warm against her ear.

It was wrong, she thought, wrong to want him this way, but she didn’t care. He was going after Ravenhawk in the morning. What if he was killed? What if she never saw him again, never had this chance again?

“Love me,” she murmured. “Please, Jesse.”

“I do. God help us both, I do.”

“Show me.”

“Kay!” Words had never come easy to him and he kissed her long and hard, hoping she would know how deeply he had come to love her, how desperately he needed her.

He held her close, his hands lightly caressing her. He didn’t want to rush her, didn’t want to frighten her. He groaned with pleasure as her hands explored his body, her fingers trailing fire as they ran over his chest, slid up over his shoulders and down his back. She caressed the muscles in his arms, a smile hovering over her lips when he flexed.

“Nice,” she murmured, and he grinned at her.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his lips feathering across her cheeks.

“So are you.”

Her words erased the smile from his face and he looked away. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Beautiful.”

Gently, she cupped his face in her hands. “You are beautiful to me, Jesse Yellow Thunder. The most beautiful man I’ve ever known.”

He shook his head.

“When I look at you, I don’t see your scars anymore. I just see you.”

“Kay…”

“I’m not beautiful, either.”

“You are.”

“Only because you love me.” Drawing his head down, she dropped feather-soft kisses over the length of his scarred cheek.

He looked down at her, at the love shining bright as the sun in her eyes, and wondered if he could ever find the words to tell her just how much he loved her and never more than now.

And knew, just as surely, that he could not take what she was offering. She might want him now, but later, when she’d had time to think, she would hate herself, and him.

He was trying to think of a way to ease away from her without hurting her feelings when there was a knock at the door.

Kaylynn’s eyes widened. “Who can that be?” she asked.

“I asked the clerk to send up some hot water.”

“Oh!”

He smiled as her cheeks turned crimson. “I’ll get it.”

Rising, he crossed the room and opened the door. Two boys stood in the hallway, each bearing two buckets of hot water.

“Just leave it,” Jesse said.

“Sure, mister, whatever you say.” The two boys smirked at each other as they lowered the buckets to the floor. Jesse scowled at them and they hurried away, giggling.

Jesse carried the buckets inside and dumped the water into the tub, thinking, as he did so, that a cold soak would suit him better right now.

When he turned around, Kaylynn was standing at the window, looking out.

“Why don’t you go wait in my room?” Jesse suggested.

She nodded, but didn’t move, and he knew she was embarrassed by what had almost happened between them.

“Kaylynn, it’s all right.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He went to her then, and drew her into his arms. “Kay, look at me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know. It was my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault.”

“I can’t love you!” she exclaimed. “It’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m married to someone else.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“What difference does that make? I belong to him.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with anguish. “I want to belong to you.” She could never go back to Alan, not now, not when she had finally found what she had been missing, looking for, dreaming of, her whole life.

“I know.” He wanted it, too, more than he had ever wanted anything, but he had nothing to offer her. Not a damn thing.

With a sigh, he folded her into his arms and held her tight and knew that, because he loved her, he would have to let her go.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ravenhawk sat on a bench outside the Mazza ranch house. Victor Mazza and his younger brother, Rafael, had a nice place. The back of the house was tucked against the rear wall of the canyon. There was a fair-sized barn, a sturdy corral. There was no cover between the front of the house and the entrance to the canyon, providing a clear view of anyone who might try to approach the house uninvited.

Ravenhawk propped his foot on the porch rail. If he had a spread like this, he’d be raising horses, not risking his life robbing stagecoaches.

The sound of angry voices drifted through the open window. Inside, Victor Mazza and Nash were arguing over how to split the loot. Mazza figured he was due a bigger cut than the others since he had planned the robbery. Nash disagreed. He felt they were all due equal shares. Rafael agreed with his brother, saying they should get an extra cut for providing Nash with a place to hole up.

Ravenhawk ran a hand through his hair. The strongbox had yielded a little over sixty thousand dollars. Depending on how Nash and Victor decided to split the take, he figured his cut would be somewhere around four or five grand. It was a good-sized chunk of change; more money than he’d ever had in his life, and it weighed heavily on his conscience. He had robbed a number of banks and stages in the past, but he’d never killed anyone. Victor Mazza had killed the stagecoach driver in cold blood; Nash had killed the shotgun guard when the man made a furtive move. Two of Nash’s men had been killed. A third, a young kid named Claudill, had been wounded and left behind.

Ravenhawk swore softly. Robbery was one thing. Cold-blooded murder was something else entirely. Damn.

He stared out into the darkness, torn between the thought of staying with Nash and riding on. There was safety in numbers. He hadn’t realized until they got here that Mazza and his brother had a gang of their own. He had learned from one of Nash’s men that Victor and Rafael never worked together. One of the brothers always stayed at the ranch with part of the gang, ready to ride to the rescue if there was trouble.

Ravenhawk had planned to stay on at the Mazza place until things quieted down. Before the robbery, staying here had seemed like a good idea. But that was before Mazza had gunned the driver.

Before he had seen Jesse Yellow Thunder inside the coach.

He swore softly. Talk about bad luck and bad timing. He wondered if Kaylynn had been on the stage, too. Somehow, the thought of her being there, knowing that he had been part of the robbery, left him feeling ashamed, the way he’d felt when he’d been a boy and his mother had caught him in some act of mischief.

There would be no safety for him here if Yellow Thunder decided to come after him. And the bounty hunter would come. Ravenhawk knew it as surely as he knew good whiskey from bad.

He would ask Nash for his cut and leave tonight, or maybe in the morning. He’d had enough of riding the outlaw trail. He was going back to the Lakota and he was never leaving there again. It was time to find a willing woman, settle down, raise a couple of kids, and count himself damn lucky he’d gotten away with a whole skin.

A woman. He closed his eyes, and an image of Kaylynn floated across his mind. Ah, Kaylynn, with her wide, innocent eyes and tempting pink lips.

If Jesse Yellow Thunder was here, could the woman be far behind?