Authors: The Searching Hearts
Dorothy Garlock (9 page)
She went to stand beside the fire after passing behind Laura and placing her hand on her shoulder so she would know she was there. She stood with her back to the wagon, very aware of the male voices behind her.
“Is that Mr. Steele and Mustang checking the wagon, Tucker?”
“Yes.” Tucker wished Laura hadn’t said anything. It would give Lucas an excuse to stop and talk if he heard her say his name. He did.
“’Evening, Laura. ’Evening, Lottie. You making out all right?”
“’Evening, Mr. Steele. We’re doing fine now that the rain has stopped. Tucker says we’re coming into hilly country,” Laura responded.
“We are, Laura. They’re mostly rolling hills, but in some places we’ll have to make our own tracks. We’re traveling a bit askew till we get to the San Antonio–El Paso Trail.” Lucas spoke to Laura but his eyes were on Tucker, and she moved out of the firelight to hide the color that was creeping up into her cheeks.
“Is . . . Mr. Garrett still scouting ahead?” Laura asked with a breathless flutter in her voice that no one but Tucker would have recognized.
“He rides ahead, but not too far out now. It’s after we cross the Colorado and head for the Pecos that we’ll be glad we’ve got Buck with us.”
“It was nice of him to take me across the creek.”
Lucas stood silently, his eyes on Tucker, who was edging toward the darkness. He had a notion to grab her by the hair and jerk her away from the others and ask her what the hell was the matter with her. She was looking at him like he was something lower than a snake.
Tucker was tense and nervous and suddenly very tired. A movement caught her eye and the soft glow of a woman’s face came into view. Cora Lee was
waiting for Lucas to walk her way. A desperate anger filled Tucker, and she made an abrupt move back toward the fire. She felt sick. Her supper was rolling round and round in her stomach. This was the third night in a row the girl had waited for him to finish inspecting the wheels. Oh . . . she hated him for making her feel this way, for making her wonder if he had held Cora Lee in his arms and kissed her! Was Cora Lee as intoxicated by his kisses as she had been? Did Cora Lee quiver with rapture when he whispered, “I’ve waited all day for now.”
waiting for Lucas to walk her way. A desperate anger filled Tucker, and she made an abrupt move back toward the fire. She felt sick. Her supper was rolling round and round in her stomach. This was the third night in a row the girl had waited for him to finish inspecting the wheels. Oh . . . she hated him for making her feel this way, for making her wonder if he had held Cora Lee in his arms and kissed her! Was Cora Lee as intoxicated by his kisses as she had been? Did Cora Lee quiver with rapture when he whispered, “I’ve waited all day for now.”
“Miss Houston.” Lucas was suddenly at her elbow, and she turned to him, her green eyes glowing with anger.
“Yes, Mr. Steele?” she snapped, her voice reflecting her agitation.
His gaze narrowed at the resentment smoldering in her eyes. His mouth thinned, and he pulled a folded paper from his shirt pocket.
“The map. Perhaps you’ll make a copy of it so I can have this back.” She took the paper from his hand, and still he stood there. He knew the others were watching, and he knew Cora Lee was waiting in the darkness. Damn that girl! She always had some half-baked, yet plausible, excuse for waiting for him. He faced Tucker calmly, his expression giving away nothing of what he was thinking. Her head was tilted defiantly, her red-gold mane of hair glistening in the firelight, her eyes flashing, venomously over his face. He was moved by her obvious anger.
“I think we should discuss the journal, Miss
Houston.” He waved his hand toward the outer circle of the wagons for her to precede him.
Houston.” He waved his hand toward the outer circle of the wagons for her to precede him.
Tucker’s compulsion was to defy his order; she trembled with the force of it. Lucas gave her a menacing look, and, with a whirl of her skirt, she pivoted and walked proudly and stiffly between the wagons and out into the darkness.
A desperate anger stopped her before she had taken many steps, and she turned to face him. His grip on her arm set her feet in motion again, and she was propelled over the uneven prairie until the glow of the campfire and the outlines of the wagons were but dim images to her.
He finally pulled her to a halt. She refused to struggle, but he continued to hold her arm as if his hand were glued to it. Hatred and contempt coursed through her. Her gaze darted to the object of that disdain.
“I don’t wish to speak with you alone. There’s no reason why we can’t discuss the journal in front of the others,” she hissed.
Lucas looked at her in silence. Her catlike green eyes shimmered moistly with her anger. When he finally spoke, it was lazily, as though he were thinking aloud, the way he had done the day they had first met in Fort Worth.
“She’s as mad as a brindle steer with one horn. I wonder what put a burr in her blanket this time?”
“While you’re wondering you can turn loose my arm,” she snapped, “unless you intend to break it.”
He laughed softly in arrogant satisfaction, but he didn’t release her arm. He gazed at her flawless face,
her flashing emerald eyes lit with the fire of her hostility. Dear God, she was lovely! The hunger to be near her, to touch her, had been with him for days while he’d foraged for an excuse to be alone with her. Now he had reached the end of his endurance, and a painful restraint in him broke. He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her as though she were life itself.
her flashing emerald eyes lit with the fire of her hostility. Dear God, she was lovely! The hunger to be near her, to touch her, had been with him for days while he’d foraged for an excuse to be alone with her. Now he had reached the end of his endurance, and a painful restraint in him broke. He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her as though she were life itself.
Now she struggled. “Damn you, Lucas Steele! Get your hands off me!” Thoughts whirled about her brain like wind-whipped tumbleweeds. “Let go of me, dammit!”
The arms tightened, crushing the breath out of her. “Be still! What changed you, Red? What the hell is the matter with you? You let me think we had something for each other, and then all I get from you for the past week is the back of your head!”
“What did you expect?” she gasped when she could catch her breath. “You looked at me like I was . . . nothing!” Her breath now came in heated spasms. She kept her body rigid with determination to prove she could resist his embrace, yet she wanted to yield, wanted to strip the last vestiges of reserve from her mind and body and be carried away on the flood.
“I told you, Red, that I—”
“You told me plenty, but if you think I’m—”
“Hush up! Let me finish. I told you that I’ve got to give all my attention to getting this train to California. After we get there I want to court you, Red. I knew the moment I saw you that you were my woman.”
“Ha!” She renewed her effort to leave his arms.
“Is that what you told Cora Lee Watson?” She spat out the words before she could stop them.
“Is that what you told Cora Lee Watson?” She spat out the words before she could stop them.
“Cora Lee?” His eyes were as bright as midnight stars when she looked at them. She felt him take a deep breath, and when he released it the stern mouth was twitching and the hollows on each side of it were already slowly deepening. “You’re jealous, Red! By God, you’re jealous!” He lifted her off the ground and whirled her around. When he set her back down, he allowed his lips to brush hers, lightly, like the wings of a butterfly, but it wasn’t enough. “Dammit, Red!” It was a groan that ended as his mouth, hard and intense, found hers again, bruising its softness.
Oh, why couldn’t she think? Now his lips were playing at the corners of hers, tracing a path to her eyes and then back to close over her mouth, making it his own. His tongue was insistent, demanding that she meet it with hers. She responded hesitantly at first, then with welcome, and finally with passion. It didn’t matter that he was undermining her control; she clung to him, her hands sliding over him, feeling the strength of his muscles, the smoothness of his back. A little whimper escaped her lips and a small warning crept into the back of her mind. He was seducing her into complete submission, and every particle of her being was responding to his touch. She knew she should have found his blistering kiss distasteful, but it was wildly exciting. Her sanity argued, this is madness! Her passion whispered, give up, give up!
Tucker felt as if she were drifting. Euphoria spread throughout her taut body, relaxing her painfully
tensed muscles. Tomorrow she would probably hate herself and him, but that was tomorrow. Right now she felt a wondrous warmth suffusing her. His mouth was persistent, ardent, relentless, snatching away her breath as well as her poise. There was a rightness to the sensation of his hands on her buttocks pressing her closer, and to the feel of her arms entwining themselves about his neck. Why hadn’t she realized how long she’d been wanting to feel these sensuous, seeking lips on her own?
tensed muscles. Tomorrow she would probably hate herself and him, but that was tomorrow. Right now she felt a wondrous warmth suffusing her. His mouth was persistent, ardent, relentless, snatching away her breath as well as her poise. There was a rightness to the sensation of his hands on her buttocks pressing her closer, and to the feel of her arms entwining themselves about his neck. Why hadn’t she realized how long she’d been wanting to feel these sensuous, seeking lips on her own?
“Ahhhh, damn!” Lucas groaned again in frustrated agony as he buried his mouth in the hair behind her ear. “I can’t take you here in the wet grass . . . but God, I want to!” His mouth, hard and rough, came back to hers, and his hands, urgent in their quest, sought the softness of her breasts beneath the loose top of her dress. Pink-tipped and ripe, they trembled beneath his warm caress.
“Lucas . . .” she protested softly.
“Red. Tucker Red,” he murmured, his breath hot against her neck. His hand inside her dress roamed over her naked breasts, hungrily seeking the taut nipples and touching them with fire. He tugged at her skirt, all the while kissing and caressing her. He pushed her down until they both fell to their knees and toppled over onto the wet grass.
Tucker came out of the trance of pleasure he was working on her and realized that her skirt had been pulled from beneath her. She could feel the throbbing hardness of him through his clothes as he shifted his weight to come into closer contact with her thighs.
She pushed against his shoulders, but he was adrift in his passion.
She pushed against his shoulders, but he was adrift in his passion.
“No, Lucas! You must stop!” she whispered anxiously, but he hardly heard her. She tugged at him until he drew back and looked into her face.
“I’ve got to love you,” he said simply, his voice pitched just above a whisper. His mouth opened over her lips, raking his teeth over their soft, generous curves. The ravaging kiss set a fire in her blood that blazed uncontrollably. The tormenting touch of his hand on her bare flesh brought her to an ardent, fevered frenzy. She made no protest when his mouth moved to her naked breast.
She was so beautiful! Here was everything he had ever dreamed of having. He was almost dizzy with desire, and he wanted to take her immediately, thrust himself into her, and satisfy the hunger that gnawed at him. But he knew he couldn’t do it. She was so soft and sweet and virginal. He couldn’t take her here on the prairie! The ground was soaking wet, and he was dirty, sweaty, and stinking of horses. She deserved for him to make it as beautiful as possible, to be soothed, aroused, so she could taste the full pleasure of it. He forcibly held himself back and withdrew his hands from her body, pulled down her skirts, and cuddled her in his arms. His skin was cool and moist with sweat, his breathing ragged and uneven. She could not guess the depth of torture it put him through to stem the tide of his passion.
“Heaven,” he whispered, his voice strangely broken. “Your body is heaven, but I can’t take it. I can’t do that to you, my sweet and beautiful Red. When I
do take you, it will be long and sweet and wonderful . . . and you’ll have no regrets.”
do take you, it will be long and sweet and wonderful . . . and you’ll have no regrets.”
For a long moment he simply lay there with his eyes closed. Reason dissolved the hunger that tormented him. She was his . . . the long length of her, the beautiful green eyes, the lips, breasts, and small round buttocks . . . all his. He felt he knew her as he had never known anyone before. He knew her mind, her soul, her spirit. She had never known the touch of another man, and he had never known a woman who hadn’t. He alone would possess her. The thought sent a quiver of desire through him, and he stroked the hair back from her face and kissed her tenderly time and again.
Abruptly he pulled away from her and got to his feet in one fluid motion, pulling her up beside him. She stood with bowed head while he straightened her dress and smoothed the grass from her hair. He lifted her face with a finger beneath her chin. Their eyes locked, hers moist with a faint trace of confusion, his tender with regard for her.
“You’re mine, Tucker Red. You belong to me. I can wait, my love,” he said softly. “When the time is right, both of us will know it and there won’t be any holding back. I’ll have all of you—heart, mind, and body.”
Tucker’s eyes wavered beneath the intensity of his. She was suddenly like a small girl in a fully bloomed woman’s body. His words echoed to the very core of her being. She summoned all her determination to speak, but her voice still came out thin and weak.
“I don’t know what possessed me to let you. . . .” Her lower lip quivered and, as she stared up at him,
tears welled within her eyes. “I’m not . . . a loose woman.”
tears welled within her eyes. “I’m not . . . a loose woman.”
Lucas lifted a finger and wiped away a tear that trickled slowly down her cheek. Then he murmured soothingly, “I know that. Don’t tremble so, sweetheart.” His arms held her with infinite care, gently, lest he destroy the moment.
Soon her trembling ceased and she lifted her head. “I should go back.”
“Walk with me first.” With his arm encircling her waist, they strolled slowly in the darkness. The moon was lost momentarily behind a wandering cloud. An owl hooted, a prairie dog barked, and the faint sound of a child crying reached them.
Tucker was agonizingly aware of the man at her side during the long period of silence that ensued. Finally Lucas’s hushed voice came to her ear.
“What happened to your folks?”
“Killed . . . by Indians up in the Territory. My mama put me in a trunk and some drovers found me, gave me a name, and took me to the orphan farm.”
“You’ve no kin?”
“No, but I’ve got Laura.”
“Does Laura have kin?”
“No, but she’s got me.” She turned to look up at him. The moon lit her face. His steely eyes met hers and warmed as they searched within the shimmering green depths.
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