Pioneer Passion (30 page)

“Oh, Kid….” Rusty cut off his words and
leaned up to meet his opened mouth with her tongue once again,
plunging and probing so skillfully. When her breasts brushed
against his quivering chest, Guy gasped.

“Damn, kid, I’m ready to explode! I’m willing
to play your game, but for just awhile longer.” He groaned, “Dear
Lord, I’m on the brink of losing all control!”

Guy took her swiftly and climaxed quickly
leaving their bodies soaked and exhausted. Rusty gasped with her
climax and looked up seeing a smile on his handsome face that
nearly reached his ears. “Good Lord Kid, I thought I died!”

He kept her in bed most of the day loving and
talking. He explained his foolishness once again to her and this
time she listened. How could she not forgive her husband? He
deserved the same consideration he gave her. Besides, she still had
to explain about her brother which put a damper on her happiness
again. But the enticing aroma of a goose roasting in the kitchen
caused a rumbling in their stomachs and she agreed with Guy that it
was time to satisfy another hunger. She dressed in one of her fancy
dresses for the joyous occasion of her husband’s birthday. It
pleased her that Guy wore his new vest proudly knowing what she had
gone through to acquire it for him.

Chapter Thirty-One

The next day Scott rode out, worried that Guy
might be getting too close to the truth. As weeks passed thoughts
of revenge lessened the more Susan smiled at him. He found that
many of his waking hours, not to mention his dreams, were of the
pretty-brown-eyed girl who had returned with his sister. She was so
tiny and frail looking, he believed she would break in two if he
held her tight; but the idea of caressing her stirred him more than
it should. Damn, that brown-eyed Susan was really getting under his
skin, he chided himself and… this was not the time to fall in love.
Empting his mind of thoughts that were a distraction, he had
another problem to worry about.

Guy had followed the rustler’s tracks on
their last attempt to steel his cattle and the rancher had come
very close to finding the hideout. Scott’s original plan was to
make Guy bleed a little. He convinced himself if he stole most of
the herd and sold them up north, he could buy the man out. If that
failed, he would see that his boss met with an untimely accident.
But lately, he’d seen such happiness in his sister’s face that he
was having second thoughts. And he also realized that he was
beginning to like his boss. The man treated him as an equal, made
him feel important, something his own father had never done. Before
entering the pass, Scott gave the signal, two hoots and a howl. The
hideout was an old shack, hidden among dense trees. He was nervous,
remembering he didn’t like dealing with these men. The five outlaws
were drinking and playing cards in the hazy room when he entered.
Whiskey, smoke and fetid bodies made him gag. Soiled dishes laden
with day-old food were thrown in a heap on the dirt floor while
beans burned over a crude stove.

“Well, boys, looks like we got ourselves a
visitor,” said Yates, the leader, holding onto a cigar stub with
clenched rotten teeth. The outlaw squinted as smoke circled his
head, which was covered with a spotted red bandanna. “If ya come to
tell us boys to strike again tonight, we decided to lay low fer a
couple of days. That tall cowboy was gettin’ mighty close the other
night to suit me and the boys.” He touched the dried blood on his
bandanna and snarled, “Though the bullet only grazed me, it was too
close for comfort.”

Thoughtfully, Yates rolled the smelly cigar
around his drooling mouth, plucked it with a stained finger and
then spit on the floor close to Scott’s boots. If he heard right,
one of the other gang members mumbled something to the effect that
their leader’s head was to thick for the bullet to do any damaged.
Scott then shrugged off the dirty look he received from the
boss.

The tobacco-stained grin widened and Scott
swallowed, ignoring Yates’ rudeness; he knew he was being baited.
The man on Yates’ left, known as Pinkie because he was missing one,
took a swig of whiskey, wiped his chin on the back of his
crud-coated sleeve and agreed with a toothless smile. Scott shifted
uneasily from one foot to another. What a fool he was to have
gotten himself mixed up with this motley bunch.

“Well, you see that’s what I want to discuss.
I want the rustling to stop.” Confused faces looked up at him
making Scott shake in his boots. But he tried not to show it, even
though something that might have been anger flickered in Yates’
cold eyes, displaying a minuscule tick. The other men sneered and
the room became electric with tension. Yates threw his cards on the
table, flipping his dead cigar past Scott’s face and he didn’t like
the feeling in his gut.

“Well, son, me and the boys don’t like
stoppin’ a job ‘til we finish it. Do we boys?” His men all grunted
in agreement.

Scott swallowed hard, succumbing to a
terrible grip of fear. “I’m sorry, but I have no further need for
you. Like I said, my boss is very smart and, sooner or later, he’ll
track you down. I heard he’s one of the best.” His heart thumped
against his rib cage.

“In that case,” Yates’s warned, “I guess ya
better keep him off our trail like ye’ve been doin’. Yer neck will
break just as easily as ours when they catch us and hang us.” He
jumped up, grabbing Scott by the collar, twisting it until he
gasped for air. “Don’t like it? Well my friend, ya won’t like it
when yer neck snaps like that.” He let Scott go and snapped his
fingers for effect.

Breathlessly, Scott stumbled back, gasping.
He got the meaning.

“Now, us boys are goin’ to lay low fer awhile
and yer goin’ to hide our trail again and hope we aren’t caught,
because it will be yer neck too.”

When Scott left, he felt more miserable than
he had ever felt in his life. His self-esteem was lower than a
snake’s belly. How was he going to get out of this? He couldn’t
tell Guy for fear of going to jail or worse. As he rode he thought
these men were not a bunch to tangle with by rating on them. If
they were captured and he was sent to prison with them, he wouldn’t
live to reach the gallows. And what about Rusty? She’d been so
happy since she returned as Mrs. Strong that he couldn’t hurt her.
And Susan? He wasn’t good enough for her. Ever since that day in
the barn when she questioned him about the rustlers, seeing the
concern in her eyes, he’d been staying clear of her. Engrossed in
self-chastisement, he didn’t see his boss coming towards him.

“She must be some woman to have your complete
attention,” Guy teased.

Scott pulled his horse to an abrupt stop and
gut knot. If his boss only knew how close he was to the truth. Fear
gripped his heart for almost getting caught red-handed on the way
back from the hideout. This made him even more aware of the danger
he was in and he tried not to look as guilty as he felt. He made
the lame excuse about tracking the rustlers again. The nervousness
in his voice did not go undetected to his own ears. He quickly
added that he was indeed thinking about a special girl, hoping Guy
would think he was befuddled over his reflections. The man smiled,
and Scott hoped his boss didn’t notice his uneasiness, and that he
had been very quiet and solemn lately.

“Yeah, women, they have a way of getting into
one’s blood.” Guy grinned, “Well, c’mon, son, you can spend from
here to eternity trying to figure them out, but never will.”

Scott smiled and nodded.

Taking their time, they rode over the
terrain, Scott was lost in his thoughts when suddenly his mount
tripped in a gopher hole; the horse stumbled slightly before
getting back his balance. Not paying attention the unsuspecting
lurch caught him off guard. He fell, hitting his head on a rock,
leaving him stunned. To clear out the hissing in his ears, he
lifted his head and groaned, but when he reached to feel his
injury, Guy yelled for him not to move.

The rattler struck and Scott felt pain in his
forearm and he realized too late that he’d been bitten by a viper.
Then he heard the bullet whiz by his head, hitting the snake. Guy
was by his side, ripping open his shirt sleeve and tying a bandanna
around the arm. His limb burned like crazy and before he could
utter a sound, his boss cut a deep X into the ugly bite mark. Guy
lost no time in sucking out the venom, saying he hopped he had
gotten most of the poison. The man then sucked until he tasted
blood, and spat it out. He then loosened the tourniquet, letting
blood flow out for half a minute before re-tightening the
bandanna.

“Scott your horse took off hobbling but the
beast doesn’t appear to be injured badly, so I’m leaving the animal
behind. You might lose consciousness; we’ll ride double on
Blizzard.”

Dazed, Scott felt himself being lifted on the
horse’s back, and Guy swung himself up behind him and they rode
fast.

Rusty was sitting with Susan in the parlor
when the front door flew open. They jumped up and screamed as he
brought the injured man in, draped over his shoulder. “Scott!”
Rusty gasped and ran to him passing Susan, who stood rooted to the
spot.

Guy didn’t stop to explain but ran into
Susan’s room, not wanting to carry the man up a flight of stairs.
Rusty was on his heels, hysterically asking what happened. Even in
the confusion, he didn’t miss his wife calling Nick by his real
name. Surely, this was her brother. Explanations would have to wait
but he was going to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.
He placed the injured man on the bed and removed his boots.

Rusty pulled his arm. “Please, Guy what
happened to Scott?” He knew that his wife was too upset to realize
that she had used her brother’s name twice. Annoyed, he turned to
answer her with an oath but seeing worried concern had darkened her
green eyes he drew in a breath and said, “He was thrown from his
horse and hit his head! He has a nice goose egg and it bled a lot,
but it looks worse than it is. I’ll have to give him a few
stitches!”

He sounded harsh even to his own ears, but he
was slightly infuriated finding out this way, that this Scott was
truly his wife’s brother. Though, he suspected all alone they were
kin, he had hoped they would have confided in him sooner. He turned
to finish undressing Scott but upon hearing Rusty’s relieved sigh,
he murmured, “Don’t breathe so easily, he was also bitten by a
rattler.”

Guy heard the gasp and turned in time to see
Susan fall faint on the floor. “Just what I need, another patient!”
he grumbled. “Go help her and I’ll get a pot of hot water so I can
clean both wounds. Mattie always has some concoction for one injury
or another.”

Rusty helped Susan to her feet. The girl was
coming around by the time his wife half dragged; half lifted Susan,
semi-conscious into the chair. “Sit there,” she ordered. “Guy’s
going to get Mattie.”

He woke Mattie who was cat napping in her
small room off the kitchen. “Boil water and bring something for a
snake bite,” he ordered. Confusion spread across her black features
and the cook stared at him, but without hesitation, she did what
she was told. When Guy entered the room again, Rusty was just
covering the young man with a blanket; Susan had her face in her
hands weeping. His wife went to the night stand and poured the
fretful girl a glass of water, promising her friend that Scott
would be all right. But by the expression on her face, she looked
as if she wasn’t too sure she could believe it herself.

After Mattie brought the water Guy clean
Scott’s wounds and stitch him up. When he finished, he told Rusty
and Mattie to bathe the young man with cool water while he rode
into town for the doctor. When he returned later with the doctor
Rusty was beside herself with worry. She told him that the patient
was hot and delirious and kept saying things about the cattle and
rustlers. Dr. Samuels examined the patient and said, “You did a
great job in draining the venom and stitching the head wound.
Whatever that smelly stuff was that Mattie had put on the bite
seemed to be drawing out some of the infection, too. He’s young and
strong and doesn’t have a fractured skull.” Guy walked the doctor
to the door and thanked him. He also inquired about Bonnie
Brown.

“Son, your wife did a fine job too. Mrs.
Brown’s still very weary, but no fever set in and that’s a good
sign. I think she’ll be all right.” He placed his hat over his bald
head and bid him good day. Guy sighed gratefully for God’s
blessings. When he returned to the room, Rusty insisted she would
sit up with Scott the rest of the night, which annoyed him.

“I’d like to have a few words with you
honey.”

She sighed. I’m very tired can we talk in the
morning?”

“You’re very concerned over Nick.” He
conceded knowing Rusty hadn’t realized how transparent she had
been, she had acted too panicky for someone who was supposed to be
a stranger. She licked her dry mouth and said the only thing she
thought believable. “I, um, I would be just as worried over any
ranch hand. Besides, Susan likes him, and….”

Guy scratched the back of his neck. She was
good, he’d give her that but he was too tired to argue. He gave her
a peck on the cheek and retired. Before dawn, he quietly went to
check on

Scott and found his wife sound asleep. The
sick man’s pale skin was cooler to the touch and his slow and even
breathing told him that Scott was on the mend. He picked up Rusty,
carried her to their room and placed her on the bed to remove her
boots, which she still persisted in wearing under her cotton dress.
She insisted her feet had grown accustomed to boots. Or was it the
other way around?

He returned to the young man, staying with
him until the sun rose. Now that he knew Nick was really named
Scott he had to remember not to call him by his real name. When he
was relieved by Susan he told her that the patients fever was
breaking. The girl sighed in relief and he could see that she cared
for the young man, but hoped her heart wouldn’t break if Scott
didn’t return the feeling. He left the room with many lingering
questions but it wasn’t only Rusty and her brother who were in his
thoughts, something more was bothering him.