Wildfire in His Arms (21 page)

Shots were fired in the street behind her. With her eyes on one of the men stationed on the roof, she didn't dare look back to see who had won the gunfight. She just fired her weapon the moment Reed's friend leaned up to take aim. She hit his rifle, breaking it and probably taking off a few of his fingers. He dropped out of sight, but she heard him screaming. She aimed at the second man, but he'd already gotten off one shot and was now hiding behind a chimney. She had to wait for him to show himself again.

More shots came from behind her, so she figured Degan must not be dead yet—unless some of the local deputies had gotten involved. She still didn't want to look, didn't know what she'd feel if Degan was dead. Actually, she wouldn't like it. Why else would she still be there trying to help him instead of using this perfect opportunity to escape?

The man behind the chimney left his cover and ran to the edge of the flat roof. Max fired before he dropped to his knee to take up that new position. Her bullet swung him around and he lost his balance. She winced as he fell off the roof. He tried to get up but couldn't manage it, probably having broken a few bones in the fall.

She steeled herself to look back where the gunfight had taken place, then let out her breath. Degan wasn't there now. Jacob Reed was though, lying prone in the dirt. Even though no one was shooting at the moment, no one was approaching him yet to see if he was still alive. But Deputy Barnes and another man were running toward her from the other end of town.

Gun drawn, out of breath, Barnes paused to ask her, “What happened here?”

She nodded toward Reed. “He and his friends tried to ambush Marshal Grant. There's still two of them unaccounted for.”

Just as she said it, a body hit the roof of the porch above their heads, then rolled off it to the street in front of them. The man had no bullet wounds, though his nose looked busted up pretty bad.

“And that just leaves one unaccounted for unless Grant already took care of him, too,” she added, keeping a grin to herself.

At least she knew where Degan was now. The lawmen started checking the bodies. Max ran across the street to see if she could spot the last man on the roofs of the buildings on the side of the street where she'd been standing, but a movement by the stable caught her eye first. That would be a good place for him to hide or grab a horse to flee in case none of his friends had survived. A few hay bales were on one side of the big stable doors, and an unhitched wagon on the other side. Then a man peeked up over the rim of the wagon bed and quickly ducked down again.

With the stable located on the corner of an intersection, Max worked her way around the corner to the stable's entrance on the other street so she could sneak up behind the unhitched wagon. She already had her rifle aimed as she approached it. She was still sweating due to her darn coat and the darn July weather. She was
not
nervous.

“Get up, mister. Toss your rifle over the side and do it real slow. A rifle shot at this range might tear a hole in you big enough to put my fist through. I'd rather not, but I will if you make any sudden moves.”

“Don't shoot!”

He tossed his rifle out of the wagon and then a Colt, before he stood up. Max went around to the front of the wagon to kick his rifle farther away and holstered the Colt. Glancing up at the man, she could see now that he was just a kid, not even as old as she was, and he looked terrified.

“Are you one of Jacob Reed's friends?” she asked as he crawled out of the wagon bed. “Or were you just hiding from the gunfire?”

“Jacob saved my life. I owed him.”

She hadn't meant to hand him an excuse like that, but he was too dumb to take it. She tsked. “You should've found another way to repay him a favor, one that didn't include murder. You do know that's what this was, right? What any ambush is? It doesn't get more cowardly than this.”

“I think he gets the idea,” Degan said from behind her as he lifted the rifle from her hands.

Max swung around. One of the deputies was with Degan and led the kid away.

Degan didn't look as if he'd been in a gunfight, or a fistfight on top of a roof, for that matter. Not a hair on his head was out of place. Still, he had a tenseness about him, as if he hadn't wound down from the fight yet. Neither had she, though her nervousness appeared to be gone, replaced by annoyance.

“Really? The first thing you do is disarm me? No thank-you for saving your life?”

“I reap what I sow, so all consequences are mine to bear. This fight had nothing to do with you.
You
were supposed to be safely inside the hotel.”

“Yeah, but something got proved here in case you didn't notice,” she shot back.

“That you don't know how to listen?”

That had her gritting her teeth, but she was too curious not to ask, “So is Reed going to heal up and come after you again or did you kill him?”

“A doctor is with him now, but I warned him I would kill him next time. Let's go.”

“Famous last words,” she mumbled. “I'll remember them for your tombstone.”

M
AX THOUGHT IT HAD
to be the hottest day of the year. There wasn't even a whisper of a breeze or a speck of a cloud in the bright blue sky. If she were alone, she would have found some shade near a lake or a stream and just waited out the heat before moving on. She didn't think Degan would appreciate that suggestion.

She'd already taken off her coat and laid it on the back of her horse and rolled up her sleeves. That hadn't helped. Now she slipped off her vest and hooked it over the pommel. This was no time to worry about how noticeable her breasts were in the snug new shirt. She even unfastened a few buttons on it. Nothing helped. It felt as if steam were rising from the road, it was so hot and muggy.

Twice they had to move off the road to let a stagecoach pass. If Degan was in such a hurry to get to the train in Billings, he had to realize that a stagecoach could get them there more quickly. The drivers didn't pace their horses, they just traded them out at each stop. He could stable their own horses and pick them up on the return trip. That was if he was coming back this way. Maybe he wasn't. He didn't exactly share his plans.

Degan had to be bothered by the heat, too, because he had removed his jacket and silk vest and rolled up his sleeves. Even without all his formal attire he still looked dangerous. It wasn't his fancy clothes that signaled to people that he was deadly. Clearly, his demeanor told them that he was a man to be avoided, a man to be reckoned with—a man to run from. And she'd saved his life this morning. She must have had a spell of insanity. It had been the worst idea she'd ever had. And she still hadn't received a thank-you.

She was riding with the confiscated Colt on her right hip. He had to have seen it as soon as she'd taken off her coat. There was no way he couldn't have. So he was obviously going to let her keep it. Was this his way of thanking her for helping him in Butte? Or was it because he knew she wouldn't shoot him any more than he would shoot her? She'd rather have her own gun back, but asking for it again might goad him into taking away the one she did have, so she wasn't going to put that to the test.

He hadn't said a word to her since they'd left Butte. Silence, especially unnecessary silence, grated on her nerves something fierce.

Finally she said, “I usually travel through woods and hills. At least there's shade under the trees.”

“I prefer roads.”

“I don't usually travel when it's this hot, either. Look at the sky, there's not a cloud in sight, which means there will be plenty of moonlight tonight to ride by. I usually hole up on hot days like—”

“We're not. We'll sleep when everyone else sleeps so we don't get surprised.”

She snorted. “Everyone else is probably sensible like me and gets out of the heat on days like this.”

An hour later she tried again. “We need some water. I'm going to faint if I can't douse myself soon.”

“We'll reach the Jefferson River by tonight.”

“Not soon enough. I came this way when I was heading north. There's a small lake about a mile south of the road up ahead. You'd pass right by it if you didn't know it was there.”

He didn't answer immediately but finally said, “Lead the way.”

She did. Concessions from him were too few for her not to jump on one when he made it. He didn't like doing things any way but his way. Well, she preferred to get her own way, too, if she cared to admit it.

According to her belly, it was two hours past lunchtime when she found the deer trail to the lake. White-barked aspens and a few ponderosa pines grew close to the shore with wildflowers scattered among them, but she didn't immediately notice how pretty a spot it was because her eyes were focused on the deep blue water. As soon as they got there, she headed for the lake, dropping her belts and hat on the way and only pausing long enough to take off her boots before she walked right into the water, socks and all. The water wasn't icy cold, but was definitely cool, and exactly what she needed. She leaned back and floated, sighing with pleasure.

Degan didn't do the same, although she knew he had to want to. But cooling off in a lake on a hot summer day would be relaxing his guard too much and heaven forbid he do something like that. He merely led the horses to the water and splashed some on his face and head. Water dripped down his shirt, drawing her attention to where the wet fine cotton material clung to his muscular chest. She quickly raised her eyes to his face.

“Your clothes will dry in no time. Come on in.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he said, “Unlike you, I prefer to remove my clothes before swimming.”

“Well, don't do
tha
t
!”

He continued to gaze at her but didn't move. She began to picture him undressing as he'd done that morning. Her cheeks started to heat up. It almost felt as if steam were rising around her again, even though the water was perfectly cool. She ducked her head under the water to get the image of his naked body out of her mind.

She wondered if Degan ever did anything spontaneously, anything fun that made him laugh. Who was she kidding? Of course he didn't.

When she came up, she saw that he'd turned away and was opening his food sack. “Toss me my soap, will you? There's a bar in my bags. My clothes, too, for that matter. Now's as good a time as any—”

“No, that can wait until tonight when you'll have time to dry them. Come eat. We're not staying here longer than we have to.”

She didn't budge. It felt too good right where she was. And from this distance it let her see all of Degan, without his realizing she was looking at things other than his face.

“Get out of the water, Max.”

“No.”

“Max.”

“No!”

He dropped the food sack on the ground and started unbuttoning his shirt. He would, too. Get completely naked. But he wouldn't come in the water to enjoy himself for a bit, he'd come in just to haul her out.

“You win, fancy man.” She laughed and walked out of the water.

She went to her horse and stepped around it before she removed her soaked shirt and opened her saddlebag to get a dry one. A dry dirty one. She made a face and pulled out Luella's chemise instead and slipped it on. It wasn't as dainty and fine as hers was and it wasn't as thin, either, so it could probably withstand a hot day like this.

“I'll be much cooler if you stay off the roads so I can ride in this.”

He came around her horse to see what she was talking about. “Like hell you will. You might be cooler, but the sight of you is going to heat the blood of any man who sees you, and I'm not in the mood to do any more shooting today.”

She blushed. He didn't sound or look angry, but a definite heat was in his eyes as he stared at her breasts, which were clearly defined by the chemise. Had he been referring to himself? Was
his
blood already heated? Hers was starting to feel that way.

It was fast, so fast, his drawing her up against him, her feet leaving the ground, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, his mouth covering hers. She'd never felt such a wild burst of sensations before. Billy Johnston's kisses had been sweet and fun, but full of uncertainty because she made him so nervous. But this was raw passion. This was Degan, a man who probably didn't even know how to be nervous. This was more exciting than she could ever have imagined. The heat, the frayed tempers, whatever had made him kiss her, she didn't want it to stop. He tasted too good and felt even better. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with a sensual urgency that made something unfurl deep inside her, something so incredibly nice that she groaned. But she wished she hadn't! Whether it was the noise she'd made or something else, he put his hands on her waist and set her on the ground at arm's length. Their eyes locked.