Chasing Rainbows (25 page)

He glanced over at Annie, noting that she was using the last bit of daylight to intently study Winston’s Guide. “How are you getting along with that?” he asked.

She looked up at him and sighed. “All right, I reckon. There’s just so much to remember.”

“You want to practice some?”

An eager expression entered her eyes. “You don’t mind?”

In truth, Jake was bothered by the thought of Annie turning herself into the kind of insipid, tittering female that Winston and society in general seemed to hold as ideal. Granted, she might need some polish, but he didn’t want to see her change. Nothing about Annie was quite proper, yet her mannerisms suited her perfectly.

Her laugh, for example. Jake knew how a woman should laugh: high and tinkling, like sleigh bells ringing across a field on a star-filled, snowy night. Annie’s laugh was rich and full, like biting into a ripe summer peach. A woman should flirt graciously, flutter her eyelashes and glance away. Annie looked a man straight in the eye. A woman should defer from voicing an opinion. Annie was brash and outspoken. A woman should take tiny steps, subtly swaying her hips beneath her skirts. Annie’s hips swayed, all right, but her stride was long and determined, sexy but completely unselfconscious.

But if The Palace Hotel was as fine an establishment as Annie claimed, she would need at least a little coaching before she took ownership. With that in mind, he suggested, “Why don’t we begin with the way you speak?”

Her brows snapped together. “What the hell’s the matter with the way I speak?”

“I believe Winston would frown on the use of profanity of any sort.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean even hell and damn?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Annie let out a discouraged sigh. “What a pain in the ass.”

Jake grinned. “You better forget that one too.”

“We keep this up, and I ain’t gonna have nothing left to say.”

“You mean, ‘I’m not going to have anything left to say.’ And yes, you will. If I know you, darlin’, you’ll have plenty left to say. Just try to leave out the vulgarities.”

Annie frowned as she considered that. “I read something about that, but I figured Winston meant the real bad stuff. You know, the words a fella might use if he were to get his foot stomped by an angry bronc.”

“All of it. No swearing of any kind. Nor is a man ever to swear in front of you. It’s your responsibility to make that clear.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Jake thought for a moment, then suggested, “Anytime a man says or does something you find the least bit objectionable or offensive, you say something like, ‘I expected better of you, sir.’”

“I expected better of you, sir,” Annie repeated, smiling. “I like that. It’s simple, dignified, even. What else have you got?”

“You might also reconsider before you offer your opinion on something.”

She frowned, clearly puzzled. “Why?”

“You sound too sure of yourself. Too confident.”

“What the hell — I mean, what the heck’s wrong with that?”

“Men won’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“It will make them feel inferior, like they can’t control you.”

“Is that a fact?” As she thought that over, a small, distinctly devious smile curved her lips. “What else won’t men like?”

“Annie…” he began warningly.

She brought up her chin. “Seems to me I’ve put up with plenty of bull from men in my time. If I can throw just a little bit of it back in their faces, why shouldn’t I? Forget it, mister. I’ll try to cut back on my swearing, and maybe even practice some of them grammar rules that are in the book, but I’ll say what I please.”

Jake shrugged. “Your choice, darlin’. Either you want to act like a lady, or you don’t.”

Irritation crossed her face. She opened her mouth, then abruptly closed it, as though distracted. Her eyes landed on a spot just beyond Jake’s shoulder, then abruptly moved on. “You reckon we’re finished for now?”

“Fine with me.”

Her eyes moved back to the spot beyond his left shoulder. “Good, because it looks like our little friend is back.”

Jake tensed but didn’t turn. He casually removed his tobacco pouch from his pocket and rolled a cigarette. He struck a sulfur match against his boot, turning his body slightly as he did, as though protecting the flame from the wind. He didn’t lift his head but simply slanted his eyes from beneath the brim of his hat, looking up in time to see a sudden flash of sun on metal against the steepness of the hillside. It wasn’t much, just a splinter of light that hung unmoving amid the confusion of jagged rock and tangled brush.

He lit his cigarette and tossed away the match. “It’s a rifle, all right,” he said. “We’ll take for granted that somebody’s behind it.”

“Indian?”

“Not if the piece is so clean it shines.” He paused for a moment, studying her face. “Snakeskin Garvey?”

“Maybe. I’d damned sure like to find out.”

Jake grinned, not bothering to correct her. “So would I, darlin’. So would I.” He took a long drag off his cigarette and thought. If they charged the stranger who was following them straight on, they would not only put themselves directly in the line of fire but give the man plenty of advance notice so he could get away. What they needed was a more subtle approach.

“You any good at playacting?” he asked.

“Why?”

Jake briefly outlined his strategy.

She offered only one objection. “Why do you get to go?”

“’Cause it’s my plan, darlin’.”

That said, Jake moved toward Weed, catching him by the reins. He led his mount across the small plateau until he reached a spot where it was half-darkened by shadows. Then he pulled off Weed’s saddle and set it down in a prominent position where it could easily be seen from a distance. Retrieving a brush from his saddlebags, he casually began grooming his horse. Annie brought Dulcie over and joined him, chatting as though continuing their earlier conversation. Jake shifted Weed to accommodate the mare, moving until the gelding was hidden entirely in the shadows.

Once Weed was out of view, Jake mounted him bareback. He slipped away from their camp, moving through the dense brush to the spot where he had seen the rifle glint. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw that Annie had remained exactly where she had been, effortlessly chatting as though Jake were still beside her.

Satisfied that their farce was suitably believable, he brought Weed around in a broad flanking movement, coming up behind the stranger’s position. He crept slowly up the hillside, camouflaged by rocks and brush. Finally he gained the advantage he had been seeking and looked down on the small camp.

The stranger was crouched behind two boulders, a flat-topped Stetson pulled down low over his eyes. He wore a brown shirt, black pants, and dark boots. His horse, a sorrel gelding, was saddled nearby. Jake also noticed the fresh fish the man had sizzling in a pan behind him, and the pot of coffee resting over a stack of hot coals. But most importantly, Jake noted his gun.

The man’s rifle was trained directly on the spot where he had left Annie.

Jake instantly drew his revolver, ready to give the order for him to drop his weapon. But just as he did, a gunshot rang out from behind him. The man whipped around before Jake could react. He brought up his gun and fired.

The shot missed, but only by inches. Jake was certain he felt the heat of the bullet as it skimmed past his arm. Weed reared in fright, startled by the blast, and threw Jake off his back. Jake slammed his head against a rock as he fell. For a moment, his vision blurred and everything went black. He shook off the fall and rolled for cover, fighting to hold on to consciousness.

Then he heard the stranger cock his rifle for his next shot. Jake raised himself on one knee, lifted his revolver, and fired six shots in rapid-fire succession in the man’s general direction. He dropped his gun and drew a fresh revolver from his holster. But the stranger made a run for his mount before Jake had a chance to fire. He leapt into the saddle and took off at a gallop, rapidly receding into the tangled brush of the hillside.

Jake heard another rider approaching from behind him. He whirled around and raised his gun. Annie. He let out a breath of relief and lowered the weapon. She leapt from her mount and moved quickly toward him.

“What the hell was that shot?” he demanded.

Embarrassment colored her face. “I dropped my gun.”

“You
what?”

“I was coming up from behind to help you. I pulled my rifle out of the scabbard and… I don’t know. I just dropped it. I’m sorry.”

“Damn it.”

Annie placed her hands on her hips, her brows knit together in a stern frown. “It ain’t like I meant to drop it.”

“I know, I know,” Jake agreed with a sigh, waving away her protest. Still, he couldn’t quite hide his irritation. Had she followed his plan as he had asked her to, he would have captured the stranger who had been following them. Instead, he’d nearly gotten his damned head blown off.

“What about the fella that was up there?” she asked.

“He got away.”

“I can see that. I’m asking if you got a good enough look to recognize him.”

“I would have if you had stayed behind like I asked you to.”

“Look, mister, I said I’m sorry and I meant it.” Her rebuke properly delivered, Annie kneeled over him, gently unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, clamping his hand over hers.

“Your shoulder’s bleeding. So’s your head.”

“Leave it,” he ordered curtly. A sharp crack of thunder boomed in the distance as lightning lit up the sky. A sudden gust of wind whipped around them and tossed his hat in the dirt. Jake stomped it with the heel of his boot before the breeze kicked it away, then slapped it against his thigh to remove the dust. A few paces away, Weed and Dulcie skittered nervously. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, his mood turning fouler by the minute.

“Now, just hold on,” she said, calmly ignoring both his words and his tone. “I doctored the boys up whenever they were hurt. I reckon I can do the same for you.”

He watched as she pulled the scarf from around her neck, wet it with her canteen, and expertly applied it to his head. He felt the cool, even pressure of the cloth at the base of his skull, and the dull ache gradually faded. After a few minutes, she drew back her hand and frowned at the scarf. “Why, that ain’t nothing but a little scratch.”

She reached next for his shirt and pulled it off. Jake would have objected, for in truth the bullet had barely grazed his skin, but he was too busy enjoying Annie’s touch. The woman’s hands felt amazingly soothing on his bare skin. She leaned over him, her brow furrowed in concentration as she brushed the damp cloth over his shoulder. As she moved, her hair fell softly across his chest, as light and provocative as a sweep of golden silk. A second gust of wind sent her hair rippling across his skin and engulfing him in its light, heady fragrance.

Then Annie leaned in even closer, so close that Jake could feel her warm breath against his ribs. The soft flannel of her shirt gaped slightly open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts It was just a hint, a dazzling reminder of what he had felt before. But that hint was enough to set his blood boiling. Annie shifted and her thigh brushed against his. Jake let out a soft moan.

She pulled back immediately. “That hurt?”

“No… go on.”

“I’ll try to be more gentle,” Annie promised.

Jake managed not to smile. “You do that, darlin’.”

She continued to softly prod his shoulder. Her touch was making him crazy; stirring his blood, sending his pulse racing, and interfering with his breathing. Another minute more of her gentle torture and he would likely explode.

Some awkward, misguided sense of chivalry had made Jake hold back earlier that day, despite the obvious invitation he had seen in her eyes. He had been comforting her, not seducing her, and the line between the two had gotten a mite too fine for his taste. But that was enough honor for one day. His mama had raised a gentleman, not a complete fool.

As though his hands were moving of their own will, Jake gently lifted her hair, letting its silky softness cascade through his fingers. Annie’s head snapped up and her lips parted in surprise. She didn’t move or swat his hand away as he thought she might. Instead, her soft brown eyes locked on his, wide and doe-like. As usual, her face was a canvas for her emotions. He read shock and surprise in her expression, as well as something that looked like pleasure.

Gently, almost experimentally, he stroked his fingers along the satiny skin between her cheekbone and her jaw, tracing the delicate hollow of her cheek. Then he moved moved on, gently caressing her chin, the base of her neck, and the fragile line of her collarbone. Her skin felt like satin, unbelievably soft and warm. Annie didn’t move while he touched her. She sat immobile, her eyes locked on his, as though she were uncertain what to do. Jake lifted his fingers to her mouth, gently tracing her lips.

For some reason, that seemed to break the spell that she had been under. Annie let out her breath in a soft gust of awe that held both surrender and release. A slight, almost imperceptible shudder ran through her. She turned her cheek into his hand and pressed her lips gently against his palm. The kiss was soft and feather light, like a kitten nuzzling his hand.

That sweet, artless kiss broke something in Jake. The cool aloofness with which he held the world at bay seemed to melt beneath Annie’s touch. For a brief moment, as he held her face, it felt as though the world itself opened, showing him a thousand possibilities he’d never imagined. Annie was hope and trust and optimism, united with an unflagging sense of determination.

Although her warm, eager responses to his touch indicated that she had some experience, Jake knew that she was anything but the experienced sexual sophisticate he preferred. She was far more dangerous. A woman like Annie would give everything she had to give — and demand that Jake give something of himself in return.

As sobering as that realization was, it did nothing to dampen Jake’s passion. Annie seemed to blossom beneath his touch. In the steady twilight glow that enveloped them, her lush features ripened to an even deeper beauty. Her hair was more vibrantly golden, her eyes a darker brown, her lips fuller and infinitely more seductive. Even her curves, hidden beneath layers of his own clothing, seemed more pronounced. He noted the gentle swell of her hips, the narrow expanse of her waist, and the round fullness of her breasts. Jake felt his blood stirring with the rapid awakening of hot, sexual desire.