Slater Bros: Apache Summer Part 20

He swung around. A smile curled his lip as he leaned against the door.

"You just can't say please, can you?"

"It isn't that! My G.o.d, this isn't fair! You want thousands of dollars worth of property" -- "If yon Heusen has his way, there won't be any property."

"But you're unfair!"

"Because I went to the saloon?"

"Because you weren't here!"

"But I was here. I was here exactly when you needed me." He walked toward her. She took a step back and tripped over the pile of half burned hay. He kept coming, and she reached out a hand, expecting he would help her up. He didn't.

He dropped down, half on top of her and half beside her, his arms braced over her chest so that she couldn't move.

Gray eyes looked into hers. He'd had a shave in town, she thought.

HIS cheeks were clean, and he smelled slightly of a cologne. He smelled good all over, like good clean soap and like a man. He'd had a bath, too, she realized, and her temper soared again. He had stayed at the saloon. He'd had a drink and a bath and maybe a meal and. Maybe a woman.

"Get off of me, Yank!" she said angrily. The smoke left his eyes. He stared at her with a gaze of cold steel. He leaned closer. So close that their faces nearly touched. The heat of his body was all around her, and she forgot everything, afraid, excited, wanting to ere ape him and run.

And wanting to know more of him.

"You're hurting me," she began.

"No, I'm not," he corrected her flatly.

"And I'm not moving a hair, because I really want your attention. Now listen. I can go, or I can stay. The choice is yours. But if I stay, we do things my way. I'll try to explain. I'm not desperate for land, cattle, a house or money. I've done all right myself, thanks, despite the war, despite everything. But tomorrow, you're going to turn over half of this place to me on legal papers.

That way you may have a chance of keeping it. Pay attention. You're a smart girl, Tess. Von Heusen thought that all he had to do was kill you and your uncle and he could have this place. You have no next of kin.

But dadin', I've got plenty. I've got brothers, nieces and nephews.

It would take yon Heusen years to find them all if he did manage to kill both of us. That might give him some serious pause. Do you understand?"

Staring at him, Tess simply nodded. He was right, and every word he was saying made such perfect sense. And she wanted to be sensible. She wanted to be dignified, grateful, strong.

She wanted to be able to fight her battles, but she could not fight alone.

If only she didn't want him as a man, if only she didn't grow jealous and angry so quickly. And yet. he still had that haunting aroma. His flesh would be slick and clean, and she wanted to know how the warmth would feel beneath her tongue.

The way he lay against her, she felt the thunder of his heart, and her own, and the beats seemed to rise together, and fall away, and rise together again, quick, wild, rampant. She felt his breath against her cheeks, and the iron lock of his thigh upon her own. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through the sandy tendrils of hair that fell so hauntingly over his forehead, and so often shadowed and shaded his eyes, and hid his innermost thoughts.

"Yes? You do understand?"

"Yes!" she cried out.

"And it all makes sense to you? You'll do what I'm asking you to do?"

"Yes. We'll go into town. As soon as I've stopped by the paper"

"Before."

"What difference does it make?"

"Maybe none. But the sooner von Heusen hears about this, the better things are going to be."

"Fine!" She was nearly screaming again. She was close to tears because she was desperate to escape him and the sensual blanketing of his body upon hers.

"Please, let me up!"

He rolled to his side, and she was free.

"You do sound more like him every day, though," she muttered heedlessly, lpache Summer 145 rolling from him to rise and dust the hay from her gown.

"Carpetbagging Yanks, all of" -- "That's another thing we're going to get straight here once and for all!" he stated. Before she could flee as she had intended, his arm snaked around her, and she was tumbling into the hay again. He straddled her, and his hands pinned her down.

"I'm not a Yank. I'm all.S. Cavalry of- ricer now, Miss. Stuart, but I was born and bred in Missouri and I fought with Morgan for many long years in the war. As a Reb, Tess. Got that straight? Don't you ever go calling me a carpetbagging Yank again, and so help me G.o.d, I mean that!

Understand?"

She stared at him blankly. She had called him a Yank a dozen times, and only now was he telling her the truth.

"Tess!"

"Yes!" she cried. She tore at her wrists and freed them from his grasp, then shoved him as hard as she could. He didn't move.

"Either Jon or I should know where you are at all times.

All right?"

"No hiding in barns or carriage houses."

"I wasn't hiding! I was trying to make sure the fire was really out."

"I wouldn't have walked out of here without making sure the fire was out."

"Maybe I needed to see for myself. The printing press is in here."

"That d.a.m.ned press! It's everything to you."

"Yes! The paper does mean everything! It's the only means I have to tell the truth!"

He was silent for a moment. Then he moved slowly to his feet and reached down for her. She tried to ignore his helping hands, but they were quickly upon her. He stood her up, but he wasn't ready to release her yet.

"I know what I'm doin [."

She inhaled the scent of him.

"I do imagine that you do, Lieutenant ."

"What does that mean?"

"You've had a nice bath, so it seems."

"And a shave."

"May I go now?"

He was smiling again.

"Jealous little thing, aren't you?"

"Why should I be? I had a wonderfully pleasant afternoon with Mr. Red Feather. He's extremely well read and well traveled."

Jamie's eyes darkened and narrowed. For an instant she hated herself; she had no right to want to cause trouble between the friends. But she seemed driven to try and make Jamie angry.

And then it hit her like a bolt from the blue. She was falling in love with Jamie!

No! I am not in love with him, she thought in dismay. But maybe she was.

She wanted him. In ways she had never imagined a woman would ever want a man. "It's important," Jamie repeated softly, "that Jon or I know where you are at all times. Did we get that one down yet?"

"Yes, thank you, I think we did. But since I do seem to get along much better with Jori, don't you think I should report to him, Lieutenant?"

She twisted free and saluted stiffly.

He caught her shoulders and pulled her back.

"You're a minx, Tess. A tart-mouthed little m'mx with siren's eyes and the longest claws this side of the Mississippi."

"Lieutenant, you're" -- "I'm not a Yank, or a carpetbagger, Tess, and so help m ~"

"You're about to crush my shoulder blades, Lieutenant," she said as regally as she could manage.

"Oh." He released her.

"Do excuse me."

"I try, Lieutenant. Daily. Hourly." She started for the door.

"Tess?"

She didn't turn.

"I could have made you beg, you know?"

She spun around. He was laughing. She raced forward in a sudden surge of energy and b.u.t.ted him in the stomach.

Taken off guard, he fell into the singed hay. She didn't stay to hear anything else he might have to say.

She raced from the carriage house and back to the house, not pausing until she was inside. She leaned against the door, gasping for breath.

The dining table was clean. Jane came from the kitchen and paused when she saw Tess.

"They've all gone to bed, Tess. Hank just went to the bunkhouse. Mr. Red Feather suggested that the hands take a few hours apiece on a kind of a guard duty. Roddy called in that big guard dog of his and he's going to have the dog on the porch, once he sees the lieutenant and tells the dog that the lieutenant is a friend. I was going to go to bed. It's been a big day for me, Miss. Stuart. A real big day."

Her eyes rolled and Tess laughed. Impulsively she gave Jane a big hug.

It was a mistake. Jane looked as if she was going to start crying all over again.

"I'm just so happy that you're alive!" she said.

"Thanks. And I'm happy to be home. Come on, let's go They walked up the stairs together. Jane hugged Tess quickly and fiercely again and headed toward her own room. Wearily Tess pushed open the door to her bedroom and walked in.

Lighting the lamp at her bedside, she shed her clothing and dressed in a soft blue flannel nightgown. She sat in front of her dressing table and picked up the silver-embossed brush that had belonged to her mother. It was good to be home.

She pulled all the pins out of her hair--and then all the little pieces of hay that had stuck into it--and began to brush it. It fell down her shoulders, long and free. She brushed it mechanically for several minutes, staring at her reflection and not seeing a thing.

Jane had been fight. It had been a big day.

But yon Heusen had been beaten back. Between Jamie and Jon, he had been beaten back. She never had told Jamie that she was grateful. Truly grateful.

He never seemed to give her a chance to say thank you. He was on her side, but it seemed that she was always fighting him. At first, she had been fighting him to make him believe her. Now she was certain he believed her.

He had met yon Heusen. He couldn't have any doubt that yon Heusen had been responsible for the attack on the wagon train.

And now. Maybe she wasn't fighting him. Maybe she was fighting herself.

First it had been that darned Eliza. Tess had managed to walk away from Eliza with her dignity intact, but she had heard Jamie speaking to the woman.

No one can make me marry anyone.

No one can make me marry anyone. So he wasn't the marrying kind.

She was. She wanted a man, a good man. She hadn't had much time to think about it, what with the war and then everything that had happened since.

But when she thought for a moment, she knew. She didn't want to be a spinster.

The paper was important to her, and she wasn't just copublisher and a reporter anymore, she was the only publisher.

She had to keep it alive. But she wanted more, too. She wanted a husband, one she really loved, and one who loved her. And she wanted children, and she wanted to give them a world that wasn't forever tainted with the memories of conflict and death.

And she wanted Jamie Slater. She wasn't at all sure how the two things intertwined-- they didn't intertwine at all, she admitted. She sighed.

She had to get by the present for the moment. She had to survive yon Heusen.

She s.h.i.+vered suddenly, violently, remembering the way von Heusen had threatened her. She would be getting out of town, he had told her. If not by stagecoach, then by some other means.