Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (15 page)

“And because you think—”

“Don’t even think it!” he said quickly. The sweet softness he felt when he held her against him sent a powerful longing coursing through him.

She was drained of thought and will and just managed to whisper shakily, “Please.”

Moon and sky were blotted out by his dark face. His mouth was gentle even though he kissed her deeply, again and again, as if he had long been thirsty and was drinking at a cool well. The feel of his lips was strange and caressing. A feverish pounding in her temples spread to her stomach and lower. His hand slipped down to her buttocks, holding her there, his hard muscular thighs forcing intimate pressure upon her. 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. Then the feeling of something rock-hard pressing against her lower stomach jerked her to awareness that this was going too far too fast. With a sob in her throat she began to struggle.

He raised his head. He was trembling. She could feel the tremor in the body pressed to hers and suddenly remembered Ernie Harding pressing her up against a tree in a dark campground—

“Stop! Please stop!”

The scared way she looked at him caused a hot flash of anger to wash over him.

Hell, it was only a kiss. He wasn’t raping her!

“What’s the matter?” he growled. “What’s the harm in a few casual kisses? You’ve done it before.”

Casual kisses.
His words sent a cold chill throughout her body. She strove to pull back, but his grip was too strong. The thought that she had been used to provide him with a cheap thrill was so humiliating she wanted to sink into the ground. She swallowed dryly, feeling the frantic clamor of her throbbing pulses even as some devil prodded her to bait him.

“No harm at all. I’ve been wondering how good a kisser you were. I got only a little sample the other night. Not bad … for a cowboy.”

“Think so?” A new wave of anger made his skin hot. He lowered his face until it was only a breath away from hers. “That wasn’t even my top-of-the-line kiss.” One of his hands gripped the nape of her neck; the other was flat against the small of her back. Before she could retort he clamped his lips to hers.

His mouth savaged hers relentlessly, prying her lips apart, grinding his teeth against her inner lips. She tried to drag her head back; but his hand held her in position, and she couldn’t wrench it from his grasp. His teeth were biting into her lips, his fingers wound into her hair; she moaned in pain and struggled. He was taking her breath. When she thought her lungs would burst, he moved his mouth to the side of her face, and she took in great gulps of air through her open mouth.

She tried to speak, to protest, when she realized his hand was on her breast, but her voice seemed to have dried up. Her heart was racing, and she felt a sudden revulsion in the pit of her stomach.

He looked down into her face, his breath quick and warm on her wet mouth. Trembling, she shook her head in silent disappointment.

“Is that how you wanted it? Hard? Rough? Is that how Ernie kissed you before you accused him of stealing your money?” he asked in a strangely thickened voice, anger making him say things he’d later regret.

Helpless tears gathered in her eyes. The moonlight shone on her face, making them look like stars.

“So you
did
believe him.”
I hate you
, she silently shrieked. Her disillusion was so complete she went cold and stiff. Through swollen lips she whispered on a ragged breath, “Get away from me.”

“Gladly.” He withdrew his hands from her body, held them up palms-out and stepped back. Anger at her rejection dissolved the hunger that tormented him.

He forcibly kept himself from saying anything more as he watched her move around the car and disappear in the darkness. A mix of anger and regret pervaded him. He scowled to himself and wondered what devil in him had caused him to manhandle her like that. But once he had started, he couldn’t seem to stop.

Damn her!

He didn’t want to feel anything for her. Pacing alongside the car restlessly, he hated the strange, twisted feeling that churned about inside of him. For a minute he had felt the twinge of desire to know love, but seconds later he discarded the idea. That wasn’t what he wanted. He couldn’t afford to be tied down.

Well, what the hell to do now? He’d sure made a mess of things.

Margie was weary but calm now. She had managed to stumble through the darkness to the truck, climb into her bunk and survive a horrible night.
A few casual kisses.
They had meant no more to him than that. She had been stupid to think they might have meant more. In spite of all he had said,
he did believe Elmer’s characterization of her as a thief, a shallow, silly woman with her head in the stars.

Heartbroken, she had cried herself to sleep.

This morning, with her back to the Putman camp, where Brady and Anna Marie were having breakfast, she had fried mush and boiled coffee without breaking down.

The shock of having Elmer shred her character to Brady, followed by Brady’s treatment of her, had sapped her strength and controlled her thoughts. Overnight it had worn away to some extent, and she had regained some of the use of her mind. Now, after pouring water on the campfire, she leaned against the side of the truck, ready to leave the campground when Elmer started the engine.

Elmer had appeared, eaten his breakfast and prepared for the departure without as much as acknowledging that she was there. Now he sat in the truck, waiting for Alvin to take the lead and pull out of the campground.

Foley and Sugar returned at sunup. Sugar was not happy to see Mona and Jody with the Putmans, Mona helping Grace put away the breakfast things and Jody coming out of the woods with Rusty.

“I wanted coffee,” she said in a loud, angry voice. “They’ve not even started a fire.”

“You’ve had coffee, Sugar.” Foley had backed the car up to the trailer and was working on the hitch.

“I wanted some to take with me.” Her voice was like that of a spoiled child.

“I’ll stop and get you some as we go through Oklahoma City,” Foley said patiently.

“I thought we were going to have a good time last night.” Sugar paced back and forth alongside the car. “The dance floor in that run-down joint you took me to was no bigger than the top of this car.”

“It was the nearest one without going into town.”

“The booths were full, and there was no place to sit. How did you expect me to have a good time in a ratty place like that?”

Foley straightened and looked at her. “Other folks were having a good time. You danced—”

“Only with you!” She stopped, put her fists on her hips and glared at him.

Her words brought him to his feet. He stared at her for a moment.

“Well, damn!” He turned his back and continued working on the car hitch.

“Oh, honey … darlin’, I’m sorry.” Sugar ran to him, wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her face to his back. “It’s just that this trip isn’t what I thought it would be.”

Foley turned, and instead of putting his arms around her, he gripped her shoulders, held her away from him and looked down into her face.

“I told you before we started that it would be a hard trip and that we had to be saving with the money or we’d not have enough to get a start in California.”

“But we’re never alone, and we have to kowtow to that stiff-shirt about where we stop and how long we stay.”

“Alvin organized this trip. He’s doing a damn good job. Didn’t you learn anything from the other night? It’s safer to travel in the caravan.”

“Let them go on. We could stay here for another day or two.”

“And do what?”

“We’d think of something,” she said coyly, and tried to snuggle close to him. “Let the kids go on with Brady. We’ll catch up.”

“Are you out of your mind? My kids stay with me.” She jerked away from him. “You love them more than me,” she accused, and managed to put a sob in her voice.

“Of course I love them. They’re my flesh and blood.” Foley pulled her into his arms when she began to cry. “You’ll understand when you have children. You said you wanted some.”

“I … don’t now.”

“Course you do. You’re just tired. In a couple days we’ll be in Amarillo. Think of that. We’ll go out dancing again. Now, dry up. The kids are coming.”

“The kids are comin’,” she echoed, then pulled away from him and got into the car.

“I did not!” Mona was laughing and protesting something her brother had said as they passed the car. They went on to where their father was attaching the trailer to the rear.

“ ’Lo, Daddy. Have a good time last night?”

“Sure did, honey. How about you? Didn’t you make a fire?”

“The Putmans asked me and Jody to eat with them.”

“That was good of them.”

“They had a singing last night, Daddy,” Mona said. “Everyone in the campground came.”

“Mr. Kinnard didn’t come,” Jody interjected.

“No one was surprised at that. Both Mr. Putman and Rusty played the violin and the guitar.” Mona was in such a happy mood she didn’t even think about her voice carrying to Sugar in the car.

“Mr. and Mrs. Putman sing harmony like you and Mama used to do,” Jody said.

“Rusty sings and writes songs,” Mona added. “He’s writing one about the highway. Only one verse so far, but he’ll finish it before we get to California.”

Jody picked up the tools Foley had been using. “I bet there was forty people around the campfire last night. I wish you had been there, Pop. You like to sing.”

“Sounds like you had a good time.” Foley took a rag out of his hip pocket and wiped his hands as Alvin pulled up alongside.

“Ready to go? We’ll stop just this side of Sayre at a place called Deke’s Garage if there’s room for the four of us. It’s a small campground. If we take a short noon, we should get there before it fills up. We may be able to do some washing there.”

“I reckon the womenfolks will like that.”

“How’s the radiator?”

“Sproutin’ another leak.”

“Let’s hope it holds out until we get to the garage. Maybe you can get it fixed there.”

“Maybe so.”

“Bye, Grace. Bye, Rusty,” Mona called. “See you tonight.”

Alvin waved and drove on.

“Looks like Mrs. Luker was poutin’ again,” Grace said. “I reckon she didn’t have a good time at the honky-tonk last night.”

Chapter 11

T
HERE WAS NOTHING ABOUT THE DAY
that was different from the day before except that the wind was stronger, flinging up fine particles of sand and grit. But not even a beautiful, quiet day could have erased Brady’s black mood.

Nothing eats at a man more than realizing he has made a complete ass of himself.

It started during breakfast when Grace made a teasing remark about him and Margie sitting together during the singing and then walking off into the dark together. Brady didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

Margie had not even glanced at him as he passed on his way to speak to Foley and had managed to be on the other side of the truck when he returned to his car. He sat in it and waited for the Lukers to pull out, then followed the car and trailer down the ribbon of highway.

As soon as Anna Marie awakened, she had gone to a makeshift outhouse with Mona, then came back to the car. Now she slept curled up beside him in the front seat, her head on the pillow he had dragged up from her bed in the back.

On the outer edge of Oklahoma City the two trucks and the cars stopped for gas at different stations. Alvin waited along the shoulder of the road until they were lined up again, then pulled out onto the highway.

The land west of the city was flat and green from spring rains. They passed through the small town of Bethany, then crossed the Canadian River. After Yukon, the next town was El Reno.

Brady regretted that there would not be time to visit Fort Reno, where the Remount units of the United States Cavalry, essentially cowboys, broke and trained horses and mules. Some of the stock was shipped to such faraway places as the South Pacific, Burma and China, where Americans were stationed.

The Kinnard truck was a hundred feet or so ahead of Foley Luker. Brady could see it up ahead and envisioned Margie silently looking at the same landscape he was seeing.

He had decided last night, while he tossed and turned on the bedroll he had thrown out beside the car, that he didn’t have good sense when he was around that woman. It was why, he reasoned, he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Why in the hell hadn’t he just let her go instead of dragging her behind the car to kiss her?

If he had half the brains he was born with, he’d sell the car when they reached Amarillo, the next large town, and take Anna Marie to California on the train. After she was settled with Opal, he’d hitch a ride back to Colorado and work like hell to build up his ranch.

While Brady was deep in thought, Foley slowed suddenly. Brady’s hand shot down to keep Anna Marie from rolling off the seat when he was forced to slam on the brakes to keep from smashing into the back of the trailer hitched to Foley’s car.

“Damn! What’s goin’ on up there?”

“That’s enough,” Foley shouted, and looked over his shoulder to glare at his daughter. “I’m sick and tired of this bickering between you two. It’s going to stop! Hear?”

“I’ve had about all of her I can take!” Mona’s shout was as loud as her father’s. “I can never do anything to suit her.”

“Mona … this isn’t the time,” Jody said.

“It’ll never be the right time with her,” Mona retorted, and shook her arm out of her brother’s grasp. “Know what, Daddy? I had a good time at the singing last night, and I just … I just wanted to tell
you
about it. She had to chime in and ruin it.” Angry, reckless words poured from the girl. “And she has no right to call Rusty a dummy.”