Chapter Six

“Alert the law, of course,” Eliza said, her beautiful eyes shining. “And of course I’ll repay you whatever you spent on her.”

Ransom held on to his calm. A fine-looking youngster with a masculine scar on his cheek. Rolly Gitts wore that scar as a proud badge, having battled with a drunk and a Bowie in a bar fight not six weeks past. But the fool knew damn well how to cover it with mud.

Same time a punch of anger clamped Ransom’s shoulder, cold sweat ran down his backbone. Gitts getting caught by the law would sure as hell get fingers pointed at Ransom. Too yellow to face a noose by his lonesome, Gitts would squeal for sure. Somehow Ransom had to find the gang, let Ahab know one of them had left a clue behind this time.

Then get back quick as he could to his woman.

“I’ll send a ’hand to Cahoots at daybreak,” Crusty said, rubbing a hand across his eyes. The old man looked done in, and Ransom felt a pang for his worries, for Miz Ida’s empty Christmas.

Eliza’s face lit up like a summer day, and she turned to him, lips parted. He longed to devour them. “Why, Ransom. You should be able to find him in a heartbeat.”

“You the law?” Crusty asked.

“No. Tracker.”

As Ransom spoke, the old man held his hand to cup his ear like he had trouble hearing. Ransom stopped himself from raising his voice just in time. His catarrh might be gone, but more than ever now, he needed to keep his voice disguised.

“He’s a tracker.” Eliza spoke for him. “Oh, Ransom. This is a true blessing. Leaving tonight, that is. We likely wouldn’t have gone inside the barn if we passed through in daylight.”

Crusty sighed. “Can’t do much before dawn. Now, you get to them vittles I set up in the parlor. I recall you need some time together. And Eliza, don’t you worry. We’ll get it sorted out.”

“I can’t wait for the vandal to rot behind bars,” she said, standing tall on tiptoe to kiss the old man’s cheek. “Or better yet, get his neck stretched.”

A worse chill tightened Ransom’s bones this time. But his empty stomach was his main concern just now. While they ate in the parlor, Eliza set up the primer and slate. At least her sitting so close kept his mind on bodily needs and away from thoughts of the noose. Even through the suede of her split skirt, he could feel her heat. Even with a stick of chalk in his fist, his fingers itched to touch her. Undress her. Love her like mad just in case she found out who he really was and turned him in.

He might have vowed to be respectable but fact was, he wasn’t, not one single bit. And his wicked past might be catching up unless he did something about it.

“I can hardly believe how quickly you’re recalling your alphabet,” Eliza said in a proud school-teacher voice.

At least that was good news. Somehow his brain had soaked up more than he’d allowed Gram-maw to know those years ago.

“I see the letters making more and more sense,” he told her. “Must be your teaching. Thing is…”

“Yes, Ransom?”

“The poem about grannies that made you cry? You think I could try learning to read that? Seems to go easier when I sound out real words.”

“Of course.” Quicker than a blowfly, she wrote something on the slate and leaned into him, going over each word slow and careful. He liked the sound of her, the scent of her, but he fixed his brain on the job at hand. Just like he’d recognized different brands and now to fix them, just like he’d recognized his old name “Canyon” on wanted posters, the logic of the alphabet made more and more sense inside his skull. A poem of his own began to birth itself. A poem of love.

Suddenly Eliza’s lashes flickered.

“Enough for now,” he said. Her weariness disappointed him because tonight was all they had. “You’ve had quite a day.”

“That I have.” She nuzzled her head against his chest. An image of him holding her close after the act of love burst behind his eyelids.

“But you know the best part?”

He smiled. The berry stain at the corner of her mouth tempted him. “The pageant.”

“No. It was the kiss.” She buried her face, coy. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“Then you can think about this all night.” With his forefinger, he raised her chin, bent his face to hers, and near burst into flame when their lips met. Her mouth opened sweetly, shy, to let him in, and without thinking, he laid his hand on one breast. She didn’t slap it off, and his cock took that as a good sign. But damn. Like any woman, she wore too darn many layers. The search for her skin was fruitless.

“And for days to come,” he said in his false-soft voice. He couldn’t leave without some sort of good-bye.

“What do you mean, Ransom?” She pulled away from his hand.

Clearing his throat, he had to tell her now. “Crusty just described a fella I tracked some time back. Lost the scent. It would be a real good thing if I met up with him around here.” He stopped talking, wanting to make sense without tripping himself up. As gentle as he could, he touched her cheek, first with his hand, then with his mouth. Seemed to settle her.

“Seems lucky all around we stopped here at the Star,” he went on without her saying anything. “So you wait for me here a day or two. Keep Miz Ida company. Sort out this mess with Oneida. I’ll get back soon and get you to your granny.” He meant it all with his whole heart.

Her lips parted in protest, so to stop her, he kissed her again, loving it, already missing her. “I sure hate to leave you. I’ll be back. Believe me, all righty?”

“I want to. But is the man dangerous? Do you think he’s a horse thief? I don’t want you hurt.” The dread in her voice touched his heart.

His fingers traveled down her cheek one more time, catching his breath in his throat. “Nope. Just a man his woman wants back home. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“How do you think he came across Oneida?”

“That’s for me to find out, darlin’. That’s what I do.”

“Oh, all right. I hope it’s all worth your while. Granny’s got a fine reward posted.” For a flash, her pretty forehead twisted like worn leather, and his gut clenched because he’d caused her pain. Oh, he was good at lying, but truth to tell, he’d never downright lied to a lady. Whore, maybe, and more than once to Hard Tack Timmon’s alley-cat sister. But never to a real live lady.

“Stay safe. I think I’m going to miss you.” Her lips trembled.

In the depths of Eliza’s eyes, he saw she believed he hated to leave, which was true. But she believed his last-ditch runaway husband tale, which wasn’t. Shame smacked him, but Canyon Jack Ransom had a duty to the gang. He had to find them and send them safe on their way. He owed the boys that much. They’d taken him in, no questions, when he had nothin’ and nobody. Afterward, he’d hightail it back for Christmas with Eliza because those days without her would be like living without his arms, his legs. His heart.

Best of all, she was going to miss him. For the first time since Gram-maw passed, Jack Ransom just might have somebody after all. It had come upon him like a sledge on an anvil.

He was in love. The thought so startled him he knocked the chalk to the floor.

“Ransom?”

“Sorry.” He tried to sound like any naughty schoolboy rather than an outlaw in shock. In love.

But it got worse. He was respectable now, and a respectable man married the woman he loved.

Hell and damn.

****

Eliza’s heart lurched in disappointment. “You’ll be back for Christmas at Stony Brook? You promise?” Desire raged. He was more handsome than any male had a right to be. She locked her fingers together to spare her unbuttoning his clothes.

“You have my solemn oath.” Ransom said. “I mean it, Eliza. I won’t let you down.”

At his words, she shivered in delight. Like the softest silk pillow, the calluses of his rough hand brushed her cheek. Her woman’s part tightened and grew wet, and she knew well why. She wanted him. She wanted his manhood to fill her up, make her a woman. Not the half-forgotten girl she’d been for Royal in her own bedroom at the Stony Brook, almost hoping Granny caught her.

She flushed hot and shamed at the mean-spirited girl she’d been then. But if she didn’t warm herself tonight in Ransom’s arms, with his fingers exploring every inch of her, and his lips tasting every pore, she’d end up a madwoman screaming in need. It had come upon her slow, while he labored to sound out the poem, but it had come upon her real. She loved him. Whoever he was, wherever he went, she loved him. She’d wait for him. But whatever happened tomorrow, she wanted to have him tonight before anything did. A fugitive husband might kill rather than return to a shrew or adulteress.

“You have a first name?” she asked, trembling at her conclusion.

“Jack.”

“Well, Jack Ransom.” She stood up and boldly took his hand in hers. “We don’t dare desecrate ‘Mother’s’ guest bed. The barn’s plenty warm.”

“What are you saying, Eliza?”

“Make love to me there, Ransom. I won’t let you leave if you say no. I’ll”—she started to giggle at the widening of his eyes—”I’ll have you tossed in a hoosegow.”

“Eliza. You can’t mean…”

“I mean nothing else.” At the front door, she pulled their coats from a bentwood tree. “I’m no harlot, but I’m no skittish virgin either if that’s your concern. I’m a woman wanting a man. And truth to tell, you want me, too.”

Ransom’s lids lowered now like they might just before he slept. Her heart thudded.

“You’re so blamed beautiful a blind man would want you,” he said. “But Eliza…what would your gram-maw say?”

Her laugh burst through her nose like her first sip of champagne. “She’s miles away, and I promise not to tell her if you don’t.” Ransom grinned back at her. “Besides, Crusty knows we’re ‘spooning.’ He won’t think a thing if I’m not in the guest bed come daybreak. I know him pretty well.”

“But Miz Ida…”

Eliza ran her hand across a cheek wearing the stubble of a long day. It was the best thing she’d ever touched. “She’s a dear, but age has slowed her wits. Doubtful she’ll even recollect I was here. Now, let’s go.” She grabbed the lantern.

Into the cold night, he held her hand like he’d never let go. Ransom stubbed the toe of his boot against a rock and said, hesitant. “I’d like a better place for our first time, Eliza.”

“The barn is perfect, Ransom.” She couldn’t tell him, not now at least, that she’d had a soft downy bed for a man she hadn’t cared for much at all.

“At least we forgot to lock the barn before,” he said with a chuckle as they entered the barn.

“I reckon Crusty never locks up around here. Most folks don’t,” she said.

“More’s the pity,” Ransom said in a voice more hushed than usual. No need to startle the critters.

Eliza grabbed the blankets from her gear. “Why’s that?” She led him up the ladder to the hayloft and safely hung the lantern on a hook.

“Makes stock easier to steal.”

Alarm fizzed in her veins. “Why, you can’t think…Ahab Perkins is still hanging around?”

Ransom shrugged and pointed to the blankets. “Good henskins there. Best blankets in Texas. Perkins? Couldn’t say. Haven’t heard much about the gang lately. Likely they’re on a spree. New Mexico, most like. Seems they move west.”

“Well, nonetheless, let’s lock the door from the inside tonight.”

“All righty. I’ll go do it.”

When he rejoined her, all thoughts of horse thieving left her brain as they forged a nesting place in the loose straw. Coats, vests, and boots nestled in a pile of their own.

Eliza extinguished the lantern.

“Nah,” Ransom said, clearly disappointed. “Want to see you when I…”

Heat flamed underneath her skin. “No. Moonlight’s enough. Clouds cleared a bit.” She pointed to the silver rays sneaking through chinks in the planks. “I don’t want to alert the ’hands.”

“All right then. Come here, woman.” Ransom knelt in front of her and wrestled with her garments. “Why do you gals wear so dratted many clothes?”

“Me? I’ll have you know, Mr. Ransom.” She giggled against his lips. “I don’t wear corsets as a rule. Anything Godey’s Lady’s Book says is proper goes right out of my head.”

“Hmmmmmmmm.”

He nuzzled right below her ear, and for some reason the action was almost more delicious than the kiss. His apt hands had her out of the rest of her clothing, and despite the heat of him, she shivered against the hay. Her nipples tightened, and he laughed joyously.

“Those peaks just waiting for me,” he murmured as he laid her down upon the blanket and suckled gently, then with increasing ardor. A molten craving consumed her, and she frantically reached for the placket of his trousers.

His lips journeyed up the mounds of her bosoms, up the column of her neck until he nourished himself at her mouth. By now, she was on fire, burning with only Ransom able to assuage the flames.

“Now!” she screamed, doing her best to pull his trousers from his hips.

He knelt around her, the tip of him pressing into a womanhood aching with need. Tears welled as she groaned, “Ransom, now. Or I will die.”

As if she opened for him, he entered, and she pulled him close, hands on his firm buttocks. His masculine thrusts completed her, made her the woman she was meant to be. Had her feeling loved and beloved although he hadn’t spoken any such words. His eyes locked with hers. Finally his lids squeezed shut and he exploded inside her, and she crossed her legs around him to hold him in, hold him close and forever. Even if he was leaving in the morning.

“Oh, dear God,” he breathed as she bore his weight with total delight. Finally he rolled off with a last kiss. “Sorry.” He took his bandana and cleaned her a bit.

“Sorry?” She rose on one elbow to look down at him. “Sorry? That was splendid.”

“If you think that, darlin’, you are a skittish virgin,” he drawled in that husky hushed voice of his. “There is so much more to show you. I just got caught up in the moment of your eagerness. Couldn’t slow down to give you the attention you deserve. Give me a while, and I’ll show you just what I mean.”

“Can’t you show me now?” She didn’t ask to be coy. Other than Royal, who obviously hadn’t been an ideal lover, Eliza knew little about the machinations of lovemaking. Right now in Ransom’s arms had only made her long for more.

“As to that, darlin’, with you naked beside me, it won’t take long. But it will take a little time. Come here.” He cuddled her against his chest, wrapping her in his unbuttoned shirt before covering them both with blankets. “Oh, there’s something else, Eliza. I know we haven’t been together much at all. Very long neither. And I ain’t saying this because of what we just did. But I know it in my heart.” He paused. “I love you,” he drawled in a slow low growl.

His words covered her both like a wave of cold water and a warm cool blanket. For a while, she couldn’t think of a thing to say and only squeezed his hand.

“Ransom, you sure?” She raised up on her elbow again, but he had already fallen asleep. She smiled against his lips and said, “That’s good, then. I love you, too.”

She recalled Royal sleeping sound right after, too and reckoned that was the way with men. As for her, she hugged Ransom close, reliving his words, seeing again the expression in his eyes when he’d entered her, sensing snow begin to fall as the moonlight disappeared.

Almost as if guided by someone or something else, her hand lowered underneath their makeshift covers to find his manhood, and her fingers closed around it. It sprang to such life at her touch she marveled that it had fit inside her; her fingers barely closed around it. Ransom grunted and woke right up.

“Ah, I see you have a taste for more.” He growled seductively in her ear. “But first things first.”

He burrowed underneath the covers and opened her legs, burying his face between them. At the near indecency of this—not even her wildest or most open-minded chums at school had ever spoken of such an act—she struggled, only to hear him mumble soft words and caress her inner thigh with his tongue. Soon she gasped, for he placed his tongue where the shaft had been before while his fingers caressed her cleft. Then his tongue began to move sinuously while his fingers entered her now, and within seconds, she writhed in rhythm to Ransom’s actions.

Suddenly the last shafts of moonlight exploded into a rainbow of countless colors inside her head, and every song she’d ever heard rang in her ears.

Her knees clasped around his neck, but she knew what he wanted next, his shaft deep within her. But no. She wanted something similar for herself, the taste of him, the feel of his length underneath her tongue.

“No, not yet, Ransom.” She wrestled him on his back, and began to love him with her mouth, watching the thrill dance in his eyes. Soon they squeezed shut, and his body began to shudder.

“Sonofabitchandthensome,” he shouted out in a full-strength gravelly voice she’d heard once before. Then he plunged inside her, and she gasped in terror and contentment both.

****

“You all right, darlin’? Did I hurt you?” Ransom rolled on his back when he was done, barely able to breathe, but he’d heard her intake of breath. He grabbed her close with whatever strength he had left. Twice, so close together, and with the woman he wanted at his side forever and ever, had rendered him near powerless. There wasn’t enough air on the planet right now to fill his lungs.

“No.” The word came out breathless, and she didn’t say more than that, but the single word comforted him anyway. A woman gasping in delight meant he’d treated her right.

The words he’d just thought inside his head smacked into his heart now. Words he’d never imagined any other time in his life about anybody else. The woman he wanted at his side forever. He forced his own words from his lungs, and he meant every single one, swear on his gram-maw’s grave.

“Eliza, never thought I’d say these words. But I want to marry up with you.”

His heart pounded. Never expected a nay, but she took a long time to accept.

“All right then. Yes.” Eliza mumbled against his chest. At first she seemed kind of stiff, but right off, she curled against him like two spoons colliding in a silverware chest. Even spent as he was, his fingertips found her nipples and had him almost begging for more. But her soft snore told him she was satisfied. He chuckled in fulfillment against her hair.

While she lay cuddled against him, the poem he’d been imagining started to take root in his mind. That granny poem had so delighted Eliza. Heck, he knew in his heart he could do better. He would arrange words just as good for her Christmas present. Reciting a poem to her on Christmas morning might be just the start of a million poems he’d give her in their long life together.

Eliza, you are to me…strong as a willow tree.

By the time his brain and body woke up at the same pace, daybreak wasn’t long off. He’d been a man of the wild outdoors long enough to sense dawn even in the dark. God, he had to find Gitts. Ahab even. Let them get on to safety. Let him return to respectability and take on a bride.

Wound so tight against him, her body almost screamed at him not to leave. Eliza might be his future, but Ahab and the boys were his past. Both needed his full attention. With a solemn kiss of promise on her forehead, he scrambled into his clothes and near melted, seeing her curled up warm and safe. Parting from her even for a day or two broke his heart. But all would soon be well. He’d warn the gang and get on with his own life.

He kissed her one last time, grateful when she stirred against him, saddled up Nitro so quietly the other horses didn’t stir. From her saddlebags, he took the grub she’d got from Miz Letha May, and set off in the falling snow. A good thing, that. He’d leave no trail behind.

She’d said something about her granny’s reward money, and for a flash, Ransom was tempted. Having some significant cash in hand could let him start out a new life, a new life worthy of a wife. Might let him somehow restitute the crimes he’d spent half his life doing.

The icy morning air bit into his skin, and he longed for her warmth almost with desperation. But Ransom wasn’t a turncoat. Not even for money, not even for Eliza. He’d get his warning done, and come back for her.