Whispers on the Wind (17 page)

When Mary entered her room,
she went to the wardrobe and found her old dress. She searched the
pockets for the piece of material. That was the clue that would
lead her to the real killer.

She pulled out what looked
like a piece of green wool and held it up to the window. She’d only
glimpsed the man at the opera house that one time, but she could
swear he had on something very similar to this plaid
fabric.

Mary slipped off her dress
and placed it on a nearby chair, then slipped on a comfortable silk
robe.

Wearily, she lay down on
the bed. She was still holding the material as she shut her eyes
and drifted asleep.

Again horrible dreams
filled her, but this time she saw a man with red hair holding his
hand out to her and she began to scream. However, he kept coming at
her, holding out his hand. She began to run. But she wasn’t quick
enough. He caught her. “Who are you?” she screamed. He didn’t
answer. Instead he shook her.

Startled, Mary’s eyelids
flew open and Carter was sitting on the bed, shaking her. “You’re
dreaming again.”

Mary calmed down enough to
recognize Carter, and when she did she clung to him. She was
actually trembling. “It was such a horrible dream, but I never get
to see the face.”

Carter’s arms encircled
her, one hand on the small of her back. She noticed from the
shadows on the wall that it must be late. Had she slept through
dinner? She hadn’t realized how tired she was, but it was easy to
forget everything when she was in Carter’s arms. Her head fit
perfectly in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, and she felt
safe.

“Are you ever going to
tell me what your dreams are about?” Carter murmured from above
her. His voice was so husky that it felt like a sensual
caress.

“I wish I could.” Mary
sighed. And this time she meant every word. She wanted to tell
Carter what had happened. She wanted him to believe her and help
her find the killer.

But she couldn’t take the
chance of him hating her. With Carter, everything was either black
or white. Mary knew Carter was a disciplined man who might never
believe her. And still, she fought a battle with herself because
she could no longer deny herself his touch.

Big Jim had told her that
one day she’d find a man she couldn’t so easily dismiss. Why did he
have to be a lawman? Mary leaned back and gazed into Carter’s dark
eyes, realizing he could very well destroy her, and even with that
knowledge, she now knew that she loved him.

She hadn’t meant to love
him, but she did. The admission was dredged from a place beyond
logic and reason, aid no matter how hard she tried to talk herself
out of making a foolish mistake, she realized she was
doomed.

Obviously love was
something that couldn’t be controlled.

Carter recognized the
desire in Mary’s eyes and, damn it to hell, he couldn’t let her go.
What was a man supposed to do when he found himself wanting a woman
so badly that he couldn’t sleep, and no matter how hard he tried,
he couldn’t quit thinking about her? What did Miss Mary No Name
taste like? Was her skin like silk?

Those dark sapphire eyes
told him that she wouldn’t resist his kisses. Each time he saw her,
the pull grew stronger. Was he man enough to walk away from her
before it was too late?

Evidently not, because he
lowered his head, seeking to touch her skin. Mary’s breath was warm
and moist against his face as he kissed the pulsing hollow at the
base of her throat. God, she tasted good, he thought as he nibbled
on her neck.

His arms seemed to move of
their own will. Instead of pushing her away, he was gathering her
closer to him, and that was when he heard her moan his
name.

Carter’s blood surged
through his body as his lips sought hers in an urgent kiss that
left him throbbing and wanting her so badly that it scared the shit
out of him.

And she wasn’t pushing him
away.

That was the problem. He
could feel each luscious curve of her body.

However, even that didn’t
stop him as he moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness
while his fingers deftly untied the sash to her robe. He slipped
the robe down over her shoulders, followed by her chemise. A small
gasp escaped Mary’s lips when he cupped her breast, but again she
didn’t pull away.

He grazed her earlobe and
whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”

Mary had never had anyone
tell her she was beautiful. She basked in the glow that Carter
thought so. He was doing marvelous things with his hands and there
was a dreamy intimacy to their kisses. He cupped the soft warm
flesh, pushing it upward until her nipple rose in the air, then he
took her breast into his mouth. She couldn’t believe how wonderful
it felt. Small shivers of delight followed everywhere his hands
touched.

He left her for a moment to
remove his clothes, and as the cool air swept over her, Mary
wondered if she should put a stop to this, but she couldn’t find
the words to stop something she wanted. She knew Carter must feel
something for her. She could tell by his tender touch.

And then he was back,
stretching out over the top of her, his warmth feeling good against
her skin, his body rubbing all her sensitive places. Slipping his
arms beneath her, he pulled her close to him, and Mary could feel
his desire as he gave her a fiery kiss, his tongue caressing hers,
his lips rough and tender—a kiss that left her breathless and
wanting something more.

Mary’s passionate response
was driving Carter crazy. He wanted so much to sink into her warm
flesh that he could hardly hold back. She kissed much better than
the whores he’d been with, but there was also a
hesitancy.

He positioned himself
between her thighs. Mary’s eyes were blazing with desire, inviting
him when he finally entered her. She cried out at the same time he
realized how very inexperienced she really was.

“Christ, Mary! Why didn’t
you tell me?”

“Tell you
what?”

Carter stopped. He realized
he’d sounded harsh. His breath was raspy as he said, “I’m sorry,
Mary. I—I didn’t know.”

Mary didn’t understand what
he was saying. “You hurt me.”

“I know. Lie still and the
pain will ease,” he said tenderly, kissing her face.

After she’d had time to
adjust to Carter, he started to move again. “Is that
better?”

She nodded and wrapped her
arms around his neck as she began to move with him.

“Ah, Mary. You have such
fire and you’re all mine,” he murmured into the side of her
neck.

All Mary’s doubts and fears
disappeared into the night Nothing mattered but the moment
Something stirred within her that she could only describe as both
torture and pleasure. She felt nothing but the swift rapture that
enveloped her, lifting her toward a peak of something more. As her
excitement rose, her hips began to move with his, tentatively at
first, then with more confidence.

He moved faster and faster
until he’d taken her to a frenzied state that made her feel as
though she was falling off a cliff. “Carter,” she gasped as he
thrust one last time and squeezed her so tight that Mary thought he
might have broken her ribs.

A sudden flood of
tenderness overwhelmed her and tears filled her eyes, escaping in
spite of her efforts to hold them back.

Carter rose and looked at
Mary. Seeing her tears, he wiped them tenderly from her cheek. “Was
it that bad, Mary?”

She smiled. “Quite the
contrary. It was wonderful. I never knew—”

Carter rolled to his side
but kept Mary wrapped in his arms. “It was good for me, too. I’m
sorry I hurt you. If I had known
...”

Mary let his words sink in.
What had she done?

Did this mean she was no
better than her mother? Mary knew that all good girls saved
themselves for marriage. Somehow she’d forgotten all that tonight
She had made love to Carter because she loved him, and she thought
that he loved her, but as the aftermath of lovemaking wore off, she
couldn’t remember him saying anything about love.

Again she thought of her
mother. Could she have been so naive the first time, and given her
love to someone who didn’t love her in return?

But Carter was
different—Mary knew he must love her. He had to.

She liked snuggling in his
arms. She loved having her head rest on Carter’s shoulder. Maybe if
she fell asleep in his arms, the horrible dream would stay away.
She closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Carter hadn’t said anything
after they’d made love, and she wondered what he was thinking.
“Carter?”

“Mmmm?”

“What happens now?” she
asked.

“We go to
sleep.”

That wasn’t the answer
she’d wanted, especially when she felt so unsure of everything. “I
mean, what happens to us?” The moment she asked the question, Mary
felt Carter tense.

“Ah, Mary,” Carter said
with a sigh. He squeezed her a little tighter. “I don’t have an
answer for you. Until we find out who you are, there can’t be much
of a commitment.”

He sounded so businesslike
... so distant Yet he still held her tenderly.
But I do know who I am. If only I had the nerve to tell
you.
“Do you care anything at all for me?”
she blurted before she lost her nerve, her hand resting on his
chest

“I care,” he said
tenderly. Then he added, “Let’s get some sleep, and we’ll talk in
the morning. I’m expecting some important information to arrive
tomorrow by Pony Express.”

At least he wasn’t hopping
out of bed like her mother’s “callers” had, Mary thought. “What
kind of information?”

“It’s a flyer from Marshal
Forester at Gregory Gulch. It’s a wanted poster with the picture of
the person who murdered Jim McCoy.”

“I see,” Mary said in a
rush of breath. Sooner or later, she’d known the day would
come.

At long last it was
here.

There would be no tomorrows
for them because she was leaving in the morning. Just as soon as
Carter left the ranch. She would flee and forget about the perfect
world she’d gotten to see, if only for a little while. She’d forget
Judith’s motherly touch. She would forget everything.

Forgetting Carter wouldn’t
be so easy, however

Chapter Eleven

Thunder rode into the town
of Appleton. He figured it would be the best place to start since
Appleton was the first town one came to when leaving the mountain.
He wouldn’t have stopped this soon if he had been the one running,
but he could hope that Mary had.

The way he saw it, Mary’s
horse was missing, so she either rode off because she was scared or
because she was forced to. He couldn’t imagine Mary in the middle
of that gruesome scene, and he prayed that the blood he saw in her
room hadn’t come from her.

He would always picture
Mary as the defiant brat who had wanted to know who he was. Thunder
knew that she could be stubborn, hardheaded, and difficult to get
along with, but she was family, and that was what mattered. He
smiled, remembering the bedraggled girl he’d first met

As his horse trotted down
the main street of Appleton, Thunder spotted the telegraph office
and veered his mount in that direction. The first thing he needed
to do was send Brandy a telegram letting her know that he was still
searching for Mary. How could he be blessed with two such females?
Talking about hardheaded, his wife was another one who was
definitely hardheaded. He smiled again. Maybe that was what made
her so lovable. Or, at least, made him love her.

After Thunder finished at
the telegraph office, he asked for the best place to stay and was
told the Stratford Hotel.

He strode down the
boardwalk past the saloon and then past the local whorehouse, where
the girls were hanging out on the balcony. A busty woman looked
over the rail and hollered, “You looking for a good time,
honey?”

Thunder glanced up. “Not
tonight”

As he entered the Stratford
Hotel, he thought a hot bath and a good night’s sleep would help
his disposition.

But then, finding Mary
would do that, too.

“Need a room,” Thunder
informed the clerk, who was behind the counter reading a newspaper.
The young man jumped at the sound of Thunder’s voice.

The young man looked over
the paper and frowned at him, and Thunder’s temper became even
shorter. He knew his hair had grown long, although he kept it tied
back with a leather strap, and he probably looked pretty damned
savage with his dark complexion, but no matter who he was he didn’t
care for discrimination.

“We don’t give Indians
rooms.”

“I’m not an Indian. You
should be glad, because if I were I’d have your scalp for that last
statement,” Thunder gritted out

The boy looked startled,
but he stood and said, “No offense, mister. How many nights you
staying?”