Frontier Woman (17 page)

The wolf was immediately all fangs and fur as he crouched before the three men. Cricket raced for her horse. She was congratulating herself on her success when a heavy weight came down on her shoulders, then curled around her, twisting to break her fall.

“Dammit, Brava, stop siccing that wolf on me,” a furious Creed hissed, his arms tight around her.

Cricket couldn’t breathe, but she wasn’t sure her breathlessness had anything to do with her fall. She was lying full length along Creed’s body, her back to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, his nose next to her ear. Their legs were tangled together, and his forearms cinched her breasts. One large male hand grasped her hip and the other clutched the space between her thighs, which had suddenly flooded with heat.

Cricket’s fury kept her from examining the strange sensations in all the places where Creed was touching her. Instead, she focused on the fact that the stubborn-headed jackass holding her had foiled her attempt to escape. “Why don’t you let me go?”

“I can’t.” The way Creed said it, so calmly, so certainly, infuriated Cricket even more.

“Rip will come after you when he finds out what you’ve done,” she raged.

“That’s my problem, isn’t it?” Creed shoved Cricket off, then lurched to his feet and yanked her up after him. “Now call off your wolf.”

Cricket started to argue again, but reconsidered when she saw the savage look on Creed’s face. “Rogue,” she called, “it’s okay.”

The wolf trotted over to be petted by Creed.

“Traitor,” Cricket muttered.

Creed kept a trembling hand on the wolf’s head, waiting for the tension to ease. God, how he wanted to touch that wild, fierce woman! He wanted to hold her and kiss her and feel her all around him. Now she was going to be his wife— in name only. It was going to be torture. He’d rather be sent unarmed to face a dozen Comanches.

“One more try like that, and the deal’s off,” Creed threatened tersely. “Sloan will be in jail before you can say ‘traitor to Texas.’ Settle down and resign yourself to the situation, do you hear?”

Mulishly, Cricket remained silent.

Creed grasped her shoulders and shook her hard. “Do you hear?”

Cricket nodded slightly, clenching her teeth to restrain the retort on the tip of her tongue.

Creed released her so abruptly she almost fell. He sought out Long Quiet to discuss the half-breed’s efforts to assuage the Comanches’ anger over the Council House massacre.

Luke approached Cricket as she massaged her aching arms. “You trained your wolf pretty well,” he said in a soothing tone of voice. “He seems to like Creed, though, doesn’t he?”

Cricket looked for the first time at the youth who’d been talking with Creed and Long Quiet. She felt an affinity to the young man she couldn’t explain. She searched his features for an answer as to why she felt so at ease with him. He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, and he was very tall and thin, with sharp, high cheekbones and a narrow nose over a wide, full mouth. He couldn’t be much older than she was, but she could feel bitterness emanating from him like waves against the sandy Texas gulf coast.

“I’m Luke Summers,” he said.

“You’re a Ranger?”

“Yeah.”

Luke seemed too somber to Cricket, and his eyes were sad. Perhaps that was what made her uncharacteristically reach out to him.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Luke,” she said, extending her hand. The young man hesitated before he clasped her palm. The feeling of empathy with Luke was even stronger when they touched. She looked up quickly to see if the young man felt the same thing she did. His mouth had tightened grimly, and his eyes had gone totally blank. Cricket shivered at the desolation she saw on his face. He didn’t speak, merely nodded and released her hand as quickly as he could. Cricket couldn’t take her eyes off him and held him prisoner with her gaze.

Creed gritted his teeth against the jealousy that flared within him when he saw Luke holding Cricket’s hand. He thought of Luke’s reputation with the ladies in San Antonio. The kid must have some sort of magic in his touch, Creed fumed, because here was his
brava
acting funny and staring at Luke with glazed eyes. Enough was enough.

“We’d better get started,” he said, interrupting them.

“Sure,” Luke replied, tearing his gaze from Cricket’s. “I’ll get the horses.”

Cricket stared after Luke until Creed took her by the arm.

“You can ride with me.”

“Why should I do that?”

“So I don’t have to spend the rest of the night worrying about you taking off on your horse,” Creed said.

Cricket sulked, but she didn’t argue.

“I’ll be heading back into
Comanchería
now,” Long Quiet said. “I’ll do what I can to keep tempers calm. But you should expect some reprisals for the Council House massacre and take the best care you can to guard against them. Warn your brother and his wife to be careful. I’d hate for anything to happen to them or their son.”

“We’ll be careful,” Creed said. “Don’t worry about us. Just take care of yourself.” Creed stretched his arm out to the half-breed who clasped it elbow to wrist.

“Good-bye,
haints
,” Long Quiet said. He glanced at Cricket and smiled. “And good luck.”

Long Quiet had disappeared into the darkness by the time the other three had mounted up, with Cricket behind Creed and Valor on a tether attached to his saddle.

“Where’s your brother’s plantation?” Cricket asked as they rode north on the Atascosito Road.

“Lion’s Dare is near the settlement where the Texas declaration of independence was signed, our own Washington, on the Brazos River,” Creed replied. “If we ride hard we should be there to meet Tom and Amy sometime late tomorrow.”

“What if they don’t like me? What if they don’t want me there?”

“You’re my wife, Cricket. For that reason alone, they’ll love you.”

Cricket snorted. That was a laugh. She’d met lots of people like Tom and Amy Creed. They’d treat her no differently than all the others, their looks condescending and pitying, even if they bit back their criticism in deference to Creed.

But did it have to be that way? For the first time in her life she’d be making decisions based on what
she
wanted, and not on what she thought Rip would approve . . . because Rip wasn’t going to approve of this at all. So maybe . . . maybe things would be different.

Of course, she had no intention of changing any of her habits. Creed was welcome to chip away at her rough edges, but he wasn’t going to find any diamond. She tightened her grasp around Creed’s waist, conscious of the ridged muscles she could feel through his shirt with her fingertips. There was a strange sensation in her chest, where the tips of her breasts rubbed against his back. She held him tighter, hoping the feeling would go away, but instead, it got worse.

It was too bad she couldn’t remember more about the night she’d spent in Jarrett Creed’s arms. Although she and Creed would be man and wife, she’d insisted on giving up an important part of that relationship. It was probably better that way, though. When Creed finally divorced her, there would be no intimate memories to hold them together.

No, it was definitely wiser to avoid being Jarrett Creed’s wife in that one particular way.

Chapter 12

DESPITE THE FACT THAT LION’S DARE APPEARED exactly as Cricket had pictured it, she was proved startlingly wrong about her reception by Tom and Amy. From the instant Creed introduced her as his wife, she was literally taken to the bosom of the young couple, who greeted them both effusively at the front door of their white frame plantation house.

“My dear,” Amy said, hugging Cricket and drawing her inside the central hallway, “you are precisely the kind of woman I’d have chosen for Jarrett.”

“I am?” Cricket blurted.

“Why, of course,” Amy said, laughing. She released Cricket and gently ruffled the fringe on her buckskin shirt. “Jarrett deserves a bride as much in love with the wilderness as he is.”

“Congratulations, Jarrett,” Tom said, shaking his brother’s hand with both of his. “I must say I’m surprised, but pleased. Two visits in four years, and you suddenly show up with a bride at your side. I hope you’re planning to stay a while this time.”

“We can’t stay long. I have to travel to New Orleans in a few weeks and Cricket’s coming along with me. I hoped you and Amy would be willing to put up with us till then.”

Cricket tensed when Creed’s arm encircled her waist but didn’t jerk away. He’d explained to her on the long ride to Lion’s Dare that she’d need to endure certain signs of affection from him for the sake of appearances. No one was to know the true, temporary nature of their relationship. However, she couldn’t keep from flinching when his lips brushed her cheek in a swift caress.

Amy smiled approvingly at the tender gesture.

“It’s our pleasure to have you here, Jarrett,” Amy said with a dazzling smile. “We’re so glad you thought to come to us.”

Cricket watched Amy move into Tom’s arms, saw how naturally his hands encircled her hips, how she leaned her head back against his shoulder, how his lips caressed her temple in much the same manner as Creed’s had caressed her cheek. Tom and Amy were obviously very much in love. How were she and Creed ever going to fool them?

“When did you two get married?” Tom asked.

“We eloped yesterday,” Creed announced, his grasp on Cricket’s waist tightening as he felt her pulling away. “We didn’t want to wait any longer to be together. I’m sending a letter to Cricket’s father to let him know she’s fine, and we’ll be in touch. I’d rather he didn’t know where we are, so we can have a little time alone before we greet Cricket’s family as man and wife.”

Tom winked at his brother. “Can’t say as I blame you.”

Cricket felt a flush rising as the two brothers exchanged crooked grins.

“You must be tired,” Amy said to Cricket.

The two brothers exchanged a second set of leering grins—of which Amy appeared oblivious, but which caused Cricket’s flush to worsen.

“Come upstairs with me, Cricket, and I’ll show you to your room,” Amy said, moving from Tom’s arms. “You can rest for a while and change your clothes before supper.”

Cricket turned within Creed’s arms and looked up at him beseechingly. She wasn’t the least bit tired, and she had no other clothes with her besides the buckskins on her back. She realized Amy thought she’d worn the buckskins to travel in, much as another woman might wear knickers under her skirt. It bothered her to think that after this friendly greeting she’d have to bear the other woman’s censure.

She steeled herself against feeling anything. When did Creighton Stewart ever let what other people thought bother her? Not for a long, long time, and she certainly wasn’t about to start now. Rip’s betrayal made no difference at all in her attitude toward other people’s opinions. No difference at all.

“You go on up with Amy,” Creed urged. “I’ll be in the parlor long enough to write a letter for Luke to deliver to your father.”

The letter to Rip would say they’d fallen in love and eloped and were on their way to Galveston for an extended honeymoon. Cricket had tried to convince Creed that Rip would never believe such an outlandish story, but had to agree that even if he did try to find them after he received the message, he’d never think to look for them at Lion’s Dare.

“I’ll be up to join you soon, darling,” he added, giving Cricket a gentle shove in Amy’s direction.

Darling?
Cricket fought a grimace at the endearment. Wasn’t that carrying things a bit too far? She’d agreed to this charade without knowing how fully Creed had planned to play the game. She glared back at the tender expression in Creed’s eyes. For the moment, he had the upper hand, and she had no choice but to go along. But she’d find a way to turn the tables, and then Jarrett Creed would pay for every kiss, every caress, every endearment she was forced to endure.

“This was Jarrett’s room when he lived at Lion’s Dare,” Amy said as they entered a room dominated by a large bed with a heavy oak headboard and footboard. “We’ve kept it ready for him exactly as he left it.”

Cricket noticed the bed frame held two feather mattresses so high off the ground she was going to need steps to reach them. She tried to imagine herself sinking down into that bed with Creed, but couldn’t. The thought was too appalling to even consider. What if he tried to do “it” to her again? Of course he’d said he wouldn’t, but what would she do if he did? She didn’t dare make a scene, or he might call off the bargain. Then Sloan would go to jail, and she’d be sent home to marry Cruz Guerrero. How had she ever gotten herself trapped like this?

Cricket tore her eyes from the bed and perused the rest of the room. A table on one side of the bed held a small candle and a well-worn book. Cricket picked up the book and discovered it was a collection of Shakespeare’s sonnets.

“Creed reads poetry?”

Cricket didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Amy responded, “Beautifully. He read a short verse for our wedding.” A dreamy look came across Amy’s face as she recited:

“So are you to my thoughts as food to life,
Or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground.”

Cricket gulped and dropped the book back on the table. She didn’t want to think about Creed’s Tennessee voice reading love poems. She tested the feather mattress with her hand. It was soft, all right. She and Creed were going to end up sleeping together in the middle of that bed, if it sank down like she thought it might.

She looked around the room for some other place to sleep, but there wasn’t any. The furnishings were spartan. A wardrobe stood along one wall, and a dry sink along the other, with a pitcher and bowl sitting atop it. A simple ladder-back chair with a rawhide seat had been placed in the corner. Unless she slept on the floor, she was going to know Jarrett Creed a whole lot better before they left Lion’s Dare.

“I had Belle put water to wash with in the pitcher, and there are some towels inside the dry sink. I’ll have Belle press one of your dresses and bring it up to you.”

The time had come, Cricket thought, to reveal at least a part of the truth. She dreaded seeing the scorn with which she was so familiar replace the friendliness in Amy’s blue eyes.

“I don’t have a dress to wear.”

“Oh, you poor dear! Jarrett dragged you away without even giving you a chance to pack? But then . . .” Amy hesitated, then finished with a shy smile, “the Creeds are lusty men, are they not?”

Cricket watched Amy’s blush rise, astounded at the woman’s admission and unsure how to reply. Amy’s incorrect assumption gave her a plausible excuse as to why she was without proper female clothing. Why deny it?

“What a thing to say to a new bride,” Amy apologized, when Cricket made no response. “Excuse my forwardness, please, Cricket. I only thought . . . Tom is . . .” Amy’s fingers came up to pinch the growing frown of distress between her eyes.

Cricket felt her heart go out to the young woman. It wasn’t Amy’s fault she and Creed weren’t really sharing a marriage bed. She supposed Amy was probably right. After all, she’d spent a night with Creed and supposedly enjoyed it
immensely
. Cricket only wished she could remember more about what had happened in Creed’s bed.

“You’re right, of course,” Cricket reassured Amy. “It’s . . . I just . . .”

“I know, dear,” Amy said, a tremulous smile brightening her features, “they
are
rather overwhelming, aren’t they.”

Cricket didn’t know what else to do, so she grinned gamely back at Amy.

“At any rate,” Amy said, all efficiency again, “I’ll have Belle let down the hem on one of my dresses for you. Except for our heights, I do believe we’re very much of a size. If you need anything else, come to the door and give a call.” Amy approached Cricket, and Cricket knew she was going to embrace her again. As awkward as she found it, she wrapped her arms around Amy. When she began to feel a warm glow inside, she stepped back abruptly, tearing herself from Amy’s grasp.

“I’m so glad you’re a part of the family, Cricket,” Amy said, smiling again. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

With those words, Amy left Cricket alone in the room. Cricket pursed her lips in dismay. She didn’t know when she’d spent so much time grinning back at someone like an idiot. She fumed and sputtered, but there was nothing she could do about it. She liked Amy Creed. And when Belle showed up with Amy’s dress, Cricket knew she’d put it on and pretend she liked wearing it . . . because she wanted Amy to continue liking her.

The insidious pretense had begun.

Cricket crossed to the dry sink and poured some of the water into the bowl. The water was cool, and she did feel fresher, she admitted, after she’d rinsed her face and hands. She groped for a towel, and as she dried her face, she wandered over to the open window and looked down into the front yard where Creed and Luke stood under a budding oak.

She watched Creed hand a letter to the young Ranger with the admonition, “Make sure if Rip comes looking for us you head him in the wrong direction, and keep a close eye on Sloan. I want to know the truth, Luke.”

“Sure, Creed,” the youth answered. “You can count on me.”

“I know I can. Good luck.”

“You, too.” Luke paused and grasped Creed’s arm before he added in a quiet voice, “Take care of her.”

“I will.”

“You’d better. Because if you don’t, you’ll have me to answer to.”

When Luke was gone, Creed turned and looked up at his bedroom window. Cricket stared back down at him, not bothering to hide her puzzlement at the exchange between the two men. She hardly knew Luke, and the time on the trail with him hadn’t been particularly enlightening. He was a loner, polite but distant. Why was he ready to fight with Creed over his treatment of her?

Creed swore under his breath before turning and marching into the house. In moments, the bedroom door opened, and he stood before Cricket.

“Do you always listen in on other people’s conversations? That’s how you got yourself into this mess in the first place, if I’m not mistaken.”

Cricket had spent too much time under Rip’s tutelage not to recognize a distracting feint when she saw one. Undeterred, she asked, “Why is Luke so willing to defend me? We just met.”

Creed shot back, “Luke’s always fighting for the underdog. He can’t help the way he is. But I can certainly cure you of eavesdropping before we head for New Orleans. In fact, that’s only one of a long list of bad habits I’m planning to break.”

Cricket didn’t bother to hide her irritation with Creed’s announcement.

“You know, this isn’t going to work. Your brother and his wife are going to figure out we’re not the loving couple we’re supposed to be.”

“How are they going to do that?”

She took a deep breath and said, “Because I’m not going to let you put your hands on me like you did when we arrived . . . and I’m not going to sleep in that bed with you, either.”

Cricket waited warily while Creed took the few steps that brought him close to her. She could feel the heat of him. His breath touched her face. He was . . .
overwhelming
. But Cricket was determined not to be overwhelmed. She stood her ground even when Creed closed the distance between them until they stood breast to breast, actually touching each time one or the other breathed. Cricket was forced to look up to meet his gaze. What she saw there made her gasp. She wanted to back away from the fire in his golden eyes, to escape from the heat. But Cricket never retreated unless it was tactically necessary. She wasn’t about to start now.

She stood her ground as Creed slowly wound his strong arms around her body and pulled her close. She managed to get her palms up on his rock-hard chest, to keep a small distance between them, but he lowered one hand to cup her buttocks and lifted her until her femininity cradled his blatant masculinity.

Cricket stared at Creed, refusing to acknowledge their closeness. However, without her being able to control them, her sooty black lashes slowly, ever so slowly, lowered over her smoky gray eyes.

The spiraling sensation deep inside her intrigued Cricket. She waited to see whether it would change with time, or stay the same. Creed rocked his hips once, sliding his hard body across her soft one. Cricket’s fingertips curled on Creed’s shirt, and her lips parted in an unvoiced exclamation, but she kept her eyes closed as she willed him to move.