Yours Again (River City Series) (4 page)

Her
mind went blank as fear washed over her anew. He shook her once and her head
snapped back. She saw stars for a moment. Samantha instinctively kicked out and
connected with his shin. He didn’t even seem to notice. The man bent over,
picked her up, and slung her over one shoulder. Samantha beat his broad
muscular back as hard as she could with both fists, unleashing the fear and
panic she’d tried to contain. One strong hand held the back of her thighs and
kept her from kicking as if she were no more than an annoyance. The man grabbed
Jessie’s reins with the other hand and walked out of the opening.

The
rain was now a torrent and immediately seeped and soaked through every layer of
fabric Samantha wore once again. The stranger led Jessie slowly and carefully
down the incline toward his waiting horse. The raindrops streamed down Samantha’s
back and around her neck, dripping off her chin. She sputtered and tilted her
head up to keep water from running up her nose. Maybe if she were lucky she
would drown before he attacked her. Without warning he plopped Samantha on her
feet and quickly tied her hands together with a piece of rope, looped the long end
around her waist, and pulled it snug.

Her
confidence waned sharply at this turn of events. Being slightly manhandled was
one thing, but being tied up and helpless was quite another. “I do not
appreciate being treated like some convict.”

He
grunted, “And I don’t appreciate having my back pounded like some steak you’re
getting ready to fry.”

It
was too dark to make out his face, especially with his hat pulled so low, but he
was indeed a giant; almost six-and-a-half feet tall if she were guessing. And
judging by the pain in her fists from pounding his unyielding back, he was almost
solid muscle. He stepped away and tied Jessie’s reins to his saddle.

A
gush of water flowed down the small canyon past Samantha’s feet. She swayed as
she tried to keep her balance. Another gush and both feet slid out from under
her. She fell backward into what was now a small torrent of water. Cold, sticky
mud soaked the back of her dress.

“You
are nothing but a handful of trouble!" The man shouted over the thunder.

“I
was
fine
before you came along.”

He
ignored her as he re-secured her valise to her saddle.

“Aren’t
you going to get me out of this mud?"

No
answer.

“You
have no manners at all! You can’t just leave me laying here! Where are you
taking me?”

Silence.

“When
the Williams find out how you’ve treated me, they will probably kill you!”

He
walked a few steps up the incline and stood over her in the semi-darkness. Rain
streamed off the brim of his hat onto her face.

 “You’re
already muddy, lady." He spoke carefully, like she was a slow-witted child.
“If I pick you back up, you will just fall down again. If you’ll be still, it
won’t be so bad.”

“How
can you be so cruel? I can’t just lie here quietly in the mud until you get
ready to carry me off to God knows where.”

“I
don’t doubt that.” He dug into his back pocket.

Samantha
smelled it before she saw the handkerchief he stuffed into her mouth.

“There
may be hell to pay for this, but at least you’ll be quiet.”

Samantha’s
stomach churned as she tried not to imagine how many kinds of vile filth covered
the crusty piece of cloth. Her fingers flexed involuntarily with disgust, and
she yanked on the rope. If she ever got half a chance she would scratch his
eyes out or at least leave some very satisfying claw marks on his cheeks.

“I
am taking you to the
Williamses’
, and we’ll just see how they feel about
this.”

He
didn’t sound the least bit scared. He must be a friend of theirs, or one of
their ranch hands.
Of course.
Relief filled her heart. This small canyon
sat on the border between her ranch and the Williams ranch, which took up most
of the ridge to the north and countless acres of grassland in the valley below.
He would have seen her riding across the valley and followed. She relaxed a
little. At least he probably wasn’t about to ravish her, though being tied up
wasn’t a good sign.

The
giant walked over and hauled her to her feet again yanking her toward his horse.
Mud oozed down her back like cold, lumpy gravy. The horse shifted as the man settled
his weight in the saddle. Dragging her up by the armpits, he sat her sideways
in front of him. Opening his coat, he wrapped it around her, pinning down her
flailing elbows.

The
man kicked his horse into motion, and Samantha bounced roughly in front of him.
Though she seemed to be in no immediate danger, his nearness made her uneasy. She
bounced harder as they picked up speed and her body stiffened. The bruises on
her backside would be as big as apples tomorrow.

She
leaned as far away from him as the confines of the coat allowed. An involuntary
tremor shook her body. She squeezed her arms to her side in an effort to
control the shaking. He pulled her gently toward his chest, but she instantly
pulled away.

“Thought
you might be cold, lady, but that’s fine. I wasn’t looking forward to getting
covered with mud anyway." She glared at him in the darkness for a minute,
then twisted and slammed her full back into his chest. The mud made contact
with his chest with a satisfying thwack. Samantha wiggled her back a little. The
sticky mud fell off her back in clumps and onto him.

There
you go, cowboy, get nice and filthy.

His
arm tightened against her ribs and she felt a chuckle rumble through his chest.
She fumed in forced silence as the warmth from his body slowed her shivers to a
halt.
How dare he tie her up and carry her off? This wasn’t the dark ages.
She
was too mad to think, and if he squeezed any harder she wouldn’t be able to
breathe either. Under normal circumstances she would be grateful for the
warmth, but these circumstances were anything but normal. As they made their
way up the ridge, Samantha saw the shape of a house in the distance.

The
Williams homestead grew steadily out of the darkness. Her smoldering anger
turned to excitement. She was finally within earshot of safety. She straightened
her back and tossed her head triumphantly. Taos Williams would knock this
cowhand clear into next week, and Charlie or Darren just might shoot him. That
prospect filled her with smug anticipation. She
had
tried to warn him.

Her
captor headed for the barn and slid off the horse, taking Samantha with him. Her
sore muscles tried to adjust to standing again, but she was more than a little
wobbly. He stood behind her still holding her close. After a few minutes he
leaned toward her until she could feel his warm breath tickle her left ear. The
sensation sent a warm tremor through her chest and she tensed, waiting.

When
he made no effort to move, she brought her heel down sharply on the inside of
his foot. He grunted and jerked his coat away from her, spinning her around. The
sudden chill rippled gooseflesh across her skin.

Hefting
her over his shoulder, he walked the short distance to the house. The man opened
the front door quietly, and deposited Samantha on the nearest piece of
furniture. She winced as pain shot through her hip. He lit a lantern, tossing
his wet hat next to her on the bench.

Samantha
was stunned.
Taos Williams.
He was almost exactly as she remembered,
only older and more tired perhaps. As a girl, she had run around with Taos and
his brothers and they had treated her like a little sister. When she was
fourteen, Taos had been twenty-one and every girl’s idea of a dashing hero. She
had looked up to him and even had a crush on him until her parents died.

Taos
frowned as he loosened the rope and rubbed her red wrists. “There are people
asleep here, so keep your voice down,” he whispered.

He
had the same wavy brown hair and ice blue eyes, though the rest of him had
filled out somewhat. Broad muscular shoulders tapered to a lean and lanky torso.
His face held deeply chiseled features set off by well-tanned, weather-worn
skin. His eyes held hers captive, momentarily taking her breath away. Her
emotions tumbled from surprise to relief to anger. Samantha batted his hands
away and grabbed the handkerchief out of her mouth.

“When
did you get to be such a bully?" Her voice was a harsh rasp; the inside of
her mouth felt like it was coated with cotton. She coughed. Fine grit covered
her teeth. She stood and a shower of mud pellets hit the floor.

Taos
grabbed her arm. “Stay here while I tend the horses.”

“Why
would I leave?” she snapped. There wasn’t any aroma of liquor on him, though he
certainly sounded drunk and confused.

“I
don’t know and I really don’t care anymore. Just stay put.”

She
smiled sweetly and stepped toward him, pointing a finger at his chest. “Taos
Williams, I have had enough of your manhandling and threats for one night. If
you don’t remove your hand from my person, you will regret it."

He
raised an eyebrow and tightened his grip at her challenge, silently calling her
bluff. Samantha brought her knee up into his groin, connecting. His fingers
loosened and she broke free, running for the stairs. She heard him mutter a
curse and slam the door on his way out.

Chapter 5

How
in the hell does she know my name?

Taos
removed the saddle from his horse and brushed the animal in long strokes, but his
thoughts focused on the woman. It would be one thing to know of him and even
know his name, but she knew him instantly on sight.

 
She
looked like hell, but she smelled like flowers. Roses maybe?

He
shook his head. He had been out on the range too long. Most men were
intimidated at first sight of him. Not her though. She’d stood her ground, even
fought back when she had to know she had no chance of winning. She had spirit,
he had to give her that.

It
nagged at his mind that he couldn’t place her. Something about her seemed so
familiar. He didn’t encounter many women as a rule. Usually they crossed the
street to avoid him. Had he heard her voice somewhere? No, she had a bit of a
Yankee accent, he would have remembered that. Her clothes appeared Eastern, and
she obviously had means. Or had at one time.

So
why was she riding hell-bent through a rainstorm? That’s another thing that
didn’t make sense. She rode astride, like she’d been born to a saddle. And a Western
one at that. The few Eastern ladies he had met wouldn’t be caught dead without
a side saddle and never got beyond a trot. He barely kept up with her when she
took off for the mine. His brush slowed to a stop.

The
mine.

A
person would have to know its exact location to find it in broad daylight, let
alone in a rainstorm at twilight. She had to be from around here. His mind
drifted back to their ride. Her slim form pressed against his chest, one hip
rubbing the inside of his thigh. He’d forgotten how good a woman felt and had
to admit that he didn’t ride near as fast as he could have just to feel her
warmth against his chest a little longer.

Lilacs.
Maybe she smelled more like lilacs.

He
finished with his horse and moved to brush down her mount. The woman had looked
at him like she’d seen a ghost when he’d lit the lamp. Then she went from happy,
right to mad as hell. Maybe she was a little touched. That would certainly explain
a few things. Although she seemed articulate, educated even. He sighed. She
certainly had no problem expressing herself, that was for sure.

When
he’d rubbed her hands, he’d stared into two eyes that glittered like great big
emeralds. It almost took his breath away. If he’d come across a woman with eyes
that green, he would have remembered. She could be younger than she looked. He’d
guess her a few years beyond twenty, but these days some fifteen year olds
looked twenty-five. A man couldn’t be too careful trying to guess a woman’s age,
and it certainly wasn’t something he was good at.

Still,
someone that age would have a husband and family waiting on them somewhere.
What was she doing out here alone? Only the locals who knew the land would
attempt a ride like that, trying to beat a storm.

She
has to be some rancher’s daughter.

He
looked her horse over. Nothing but a livery nag, not a horse a rancher would
have. If her family did live around here, it would be hard to explain trussing
her up and hauling her off. Especially since he didn’t know why he had done it.

No
one would believe a man his size had to tie up a woman and stuff a rag in her
mouth to get her out of the rain. Well, they might believe his urge to shut her
up if they heard her talk for five minutes. He chuckled. Sure, he’d left her
lying in the mud on purpose. It served her right for fighting him when he had only
tried to help her. Besides, it had to be the funniest thing he’d seen in months.
After all that, she still fought him when he pulled her onto the horse. He
shook his head and smiled. She was something, all right.

Maybe
she just knew of him from people in town and planned this little charade to get
to him.

A
strange sense of foreboding snaked through his soul. He’d been played for a fool
before, and everybody in town knew it. The possibility of looking down the
barrel of some angry father’s gun again filled him with dread. Once was one too
many times. He’d learned that hard lesson well.

Times
were tough and the drought had gone on for months now without so much as a hint
of rain, not that they’d gotten enough moisture the previous two years. This
storm was the first drop they’d seen in six months, and though it helped, it
wasn’t near enough. Other ranchers and farmers were getting more desperate by
the hour; Mertie Mae’s proposition in town today was proof of that. Marrying
off a spare daughter to a man with land, money, and water might be too big a
temptation—even if he was a virtual social outcast.

Taos’s
suspicions simmered. There weren’t many reasons some damsel in distress would
be riding across his land unless she was looking for him. This had all the
hallmarks of a setup, and Miss Fancy Pants was in his house, probably crawling
in his bed right now to close the deal. Slamming the brush on a shelf near the
barn door, he stalked toward the house. Whatever she wanted, she would not get
it. He’d see to that. He would never be a sucker twice.

The
rain had slowed to a cool drizzle when Taos opened the front door and glanced
into the parlor
. Gone.
She was probably already flipping over the china
to estimate its worth and looking for the silver. He could imagine her
disbelief when she found no such luxuries here.

After
Sharisse, he had learned to live well below his means. No one would have any
indication of the size of his bank account by appearances. It had been his
experience that a show of wealth attracted the wrong sort, and this situation
was yet another confirmation of that fact. He climbed the stairs as quietly as
possible, skipping the seventh one that creaked. The door to his room was
cracked open slightly, and a light shone from within. He crept toward the
bright glow and peered inside.

A
large pile of clothes lay on the floor and dried mud littered the hallway. The
woman washed her face with her back to him; she wore one of his shirts. The
denim sure looked a damn sight better on her than it ever had on him, and Taos
struggled to pull his eyes from the shapely length of calf the shirt left bare.
She put down the wash cloth and picked up his brush, leaning over to pull the
golden strands of hair over her head. The color of her hair sparked some
recognition. The woman on the bluff. It had to be her.

He
caught a glimpse in the mirror as the shirt gapped open. She was naked to the
knees. Taos tried to close his eyes, but they refused. He stared as she brushed
in long strokes. His mouth went dry at the slight movement of her breasts with
each stroke. The motion was hypnotic and he was instantly hard.

What
kind of woman strips down and puts on a strange man’s shirt in his bedroom?
Not
an innocent rancher’s daughter, that’s for sure.

Maybe
she’s one of Miss Sadie’s girls.

He
hadn’t been by there in a long time, and Sadie did tend to have classy whores. That
would explain everything. The fancy clothes, being out here alone, riding in
the rain, running from some man. It made perfect sense.

She
would have heard of him in town, maybe had seen him from a distance. That’s how
she knew his name! A slow smile spread across his face. This changed things,
and for the better in his opinion. A whore that made house calls—how great was
that? Relief combined with anticipation took hold. He might just benefit from
this yet. He stepped through the door, closing it behind him.

The
woman straightened and flipped her hair back. The strands floated over her
shoulders like spun silk. She glanced at him in the mirror and continued like
he wasn’t there. Taos’s eyes followed each brush stroke as he peeled his wet
coat off and unbuttoned his shirt. She was sultry, tempting and he watched her
gaze linger on his bare chest. He smiled as she forced her eyes back to his.

“What
kind of
lady
are you anyway?”

She
frowned, “I borrowed one of your shirts so my clothes could dry."

She
wasn’t a great actress. He slowly walked toward her, coming so close she
stepped back. “How do you know it’s mine? I’m sure you know I have brothers.”

“Of
course I know you have brothers. This isn’t Darren or Charlie’s room. Besides,
they are nowhere near as tall as you are.”

That’s
it!
How could she possible know who slept where in his house?
He
jerked off his shirt and tossed it aside in a shower of dried mud. He grabbed
her arms. “Who are you, lady? How do you know so much? Have you been watching
us?"

She
stared at his chest like she’d forgotten her next line. He waited and could
feel her grasp for another approach.

 “You
really have no idea who I am, do you?” She flashed him a blinding smile. “Didn’t
we already have one discussion about you not grabbing me?"

Fine,
if she wanted to play, he could play too. He released his grip, but slid his
hands slowly down her arms brushing the sides of her breasts with his fingers.
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t move away. She stared at his lips
and he leaned down until they almost touched hers. “Who are you?" He
whispered.

“Who
do you think I am?"

He
brushed his lips across hers, moving slowly toward her neck. He felt her lean
toward him almost begging his lips to go farther. “I’d say,” he whispered, “you’re
one of Miss Sadie’s girls and doing a damn fine job so far.”

She
placed both palms against his naked chest and he smiled to himself knowing he
was right about this one. She shoved hard and Taos fell backward on the bed, scooting
it an inch or two across the floor with his sudden weight. She paced barefooted
in front of him as he sat up on the edge of the mattress.

“Let
me see if I have the facts straight."

He
wasn’t sure but he thought he detected a smile.
Why was this funny?
What
was she trying to do, make him work for it?

“I
try to get to . . . let’s say, a friend’s house."

He
snorted, “Friend my ass.”

She
ignored him and continued, “And I get caught in a rainstorm. I am then chased
by a very strange man." She paused to stare pointedly at him then resumed
her march.” When I finally find some shelter, this same barbarian insists on
rescuing
me. To prove it, he scares the life out of me. Ties me up. Rolls me in muck. Then
proceeds to drag me to his home like I’m some
criminal.”

The
beginnings of a fine sheen of nervous sweat popped up on Taos’s forehead. There
was something about the way she said the word ‘criminal’ that unnerved him.
What if he was wrong? Because if he was, this could turn out very badly. “I was
just trying to—”

“I’m
not finished yet." She continued to pace, “As if all that weren’t enough,
while I’m trying to clean up and dry off, he has the nerve to call me a woman
of questionable morals." She stopped in front of him. “Is this the series
of events as you remember them,
Mr.
Williams?"

“Uh,
well,” His mind searched for a way out of this. “What was I supposed to think
with you taking off every stitch up here?”

“Well,
let’s see," The woman crossed her arms and tapped a finger on her cheek. “You
could have thought that maybe I preferred not to drip on the floor all night. Or
you could have thought that I needed privacy as opposed to wandering around the
parlor naked. Both of these seem logical assumptions, yet for some reason you
chose to conclude that I was . . . Hmm, here for your enjoyment shall we say?"
She leaned toward him, “Why is that?” She arched a brow and slid a glance
toward his trousers. “Been a while has it?”

Taos
was at a loss for words and the silence dragged as she waited for an answer.

She
narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that I took
all
my clothes off? Were
you watching me?”

“I
didn’t watch you undress." His eyes involuntarily flicked toward the
opening of her shirt and she clamped a hand against the fabric.

“What
do you want from me?" He was tired of this little game and it was time to
end it.

She
grinned. “What do you think I want?"

“If
you have a father, or anybody else, with a shotgun waiting downstairs, you
better tell me now. I’d hate to kill a man unnecessarily." He watched her
carefully waiting for her to reveal whatever plan she had cooked up.

She
laughed, “No, there is no father or anyone else downstairs.”

He
smiled. She was here alone. “Good." He grabbed her waist and slammed her
against his chest. “I’m tired of playing games." His mouth came down hard
on hers.

She
pressed her lips closed and tried to push away. He moved one hand to the middle
of her back and pulled her closer. After a moment, she relaxed and arched her
body toward his. His lips molded to hers and gently coaxed them open. He could
tell it had just been a token resistance. She followed his lead cautiously at
first, then with more confidence. She had to be stringing him along. Her open
palm slid along his rough cheek and into his hair, leaving a trail of heat that
electrified his body.