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Authors: Pauline Baird Jones

Project Enterprise (7 page)

BOOK: Project Enterprise
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He'd had a chance to get back to his own galaxy, though no way to make it to his own time, so he'd passed on it, thinking here would do. Less chance of running into someone he'd pissed off. He knew it fairly well, since he'd been in and out of it more than was right. And truth was, the shorter life spans of this time had some appeal to someone whose life had been unnaturally stretched by the time travel. Didn't want to live that long with his memories of what he'd lost, what he'd done against his will. He might have gone looking for trouble that would speed that demise when he headed for Texas. And then he found himself near the last place he'd seen Olivia—knowing that she was just ahead of him in time somewhere—and well, he knew it had been a mistake to stay here.

You can't have what was never yours.

It was the one thing he'd done right. It gave him a little peace knowing that. That he'd cared enough to let her go. Didn't much matter
when
he went after this, or where, as long as it was far from the temptation to look her up…unless…his gaze slanted back to the girl saddling her mount. Could rescuing a damsel in distress rescue him? His mind called him delusional, but his gut said…maybe…

Everly fussed around both horse and girl, giving the illusion of helping without doing it. “You'll be back by sunrise,” he directed.

Had he processed the fact he planned to send his daughter off with a man he'd known for only three days?

“Of course, Pa.” Her voice was low, pitched to be plausible for a boy, a fact the vulnerable nape of her neck disputed. Strands of blond hair, lifted by the breeze, caressed skin turned to milk in the moonlight.

“I'll look after the…boy.” Hard to get that word out when she slung a long leg over her horse, settled into the saddle with an instinctive, feminine wriggle.

She slanted a look at him that seemed to say she could take care of herself and he'd best not forget it. He almost smiled. Couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled, let alone almost smiled. She had guts, which brought him full circle to—she deserved better.

He might not be what most would term better, but looking around this place? He kicked his horse into a slow jog down the trail after hers. He was all there was.

T
hey rode in silence
, passing through deep shadow, before emerging into almost bright-as-day moonlight as the horses picked a path through a dry wash in the general direction of the moving lights. When they were distant enough from the camp that Everly couldn't hear them, “Joe” kicked his horse to a jog that put him next to the girl. Felt her struggle against looking, waited until she gave in, before he spoke.

“You shouldn't be out here.”

That lifted her chin and her brows. “And where should I be?”

She might have meant to sound defiant or even indifferent. She didn't manage either. The tone did edge into provocative. Seemed to be some female left in there.

“Back East. Somewhere safer, for sure.” She opened her mouth to object, so he cut in, “You're not a boy.”

She looked more resigned than surprised, though she shot back quick enough, “And you're not a Joe.”

He grinned, surprising them both. “True enough. How did you—”

“You look
nothing
like a Joe.”

She tried to be irate but failed at that, too, when a grin twitched the edges of a mouth that looked like it needed kissing. As if she felt his interest in getting up close and personal with her mouth, the lower lip pouted an invitation that her brain might not recognize as one. Maybe he should pass on the ghost lights and where they might take him—but if they turned back now they wouldn't be alone. Going forward seemed the better option for now and truth was, the chances of the ghost lights doing anything but taunting him with false hope were slim.

“What do I look like?” It was an opening she could use to slay him if she were inclined that way, but if she didn't, maybe she'd come up with a name he could live with. He'd tried out a bunch of them since he left Smith behind with the broken remains of the crate he'd landed in. And Galfrioni? Well, it might have worked in another time, another galaxy, but here? It would just get him shot.

That brought her big-eyed gaze full bore his way. She took her time, studying him from top to bottom, seemed like she enjoyed the looking because she sure didn't hurry either direction. Her head tilted the other direction and she did the top-to-toe examination again, maybe even slower than before. He liked that she didn't hurry, found it an encouraging development. Another thing he could like about this time, or at least this place in this time, courting could happen as fast as it needed to. If she didn't want him, he could find out and move on with only his pride dented a little this time. Her gaze found his and something stirred in the ashes of his heart. Yeah, he needed to move fast. Didn't need to have it cracked twice, that was for sure.

“Chance. You look like a Chance.”

She hadn't gone for the jugular, another encouraging development. The name fit better than his boots—or his grandiose Garradian moniker—and the words with the name were apt, too, though she didn't know it yet. He was her chance and she, well, she might be his chance, too.

“Clever—” He stopped as he realized, “Your Pa never said your name.”

She might have hesitated, or just paused to give him a look.

“Analisse.” She hid shy in a very female sniff, her cute little nose lifting a bit, but not so much she lost sight of him. “I suppose you don't use your real name because you're wanted by the law.”

Didn't sound like it bothered her. He grinned again. A new record. “Not by the law—” In this time, anyway. “Just…private.”

“Pa says the same thing—after he shares our life story with everyone who comes by.” Her tone hovered between rueful and annoyed.

“Analisse. I like it.” It suited who she should be.

“My Ma used to call me Ani.” She eased it out like it was information, not an offer, though she might be persuaded otherwise.

“Ani.” He'd never been one for a lot of persuading, continued before she could pretend to object, “If you could go anywhere you wanted, where would it be?” Maybe he assumed facts not in evidence. Maybe she liked the life, liked being a boy. He could adapt to a lot of things, but wasn't sure about a traveling medicine show, though—she shifted giving him a glimpse of her shape as the round circle of the moon backlit her—there'd be compensations.

“Anywhere?” Her gaze turned dreamy in the moonlight. “I'd probably go home. Put on a dress, see if I could stand it.”

Her smile was unexpected, mischievous and loaded with charm. Animated her face from fine to beautiful. Had she been given the chance, she'd have had no trouble snaring a husband.

The wind went from merely persistent to a hearty gust. Delphine whinnied a bit and tried to turn off the trail toward what looked like a tumble of rocks.

Ani held her mount in, though she didn't turn her back to the trail. “Probably a
tinaja
close by. We can water the horses there.”

It was a chance to talk, to find out what she wanted from life. He felt his horse shift under him, trying to turn, too. He let the animal have his head, pondered doing the same for himself.
Do no harm.
What if he could do some good for both of them?

M
oonlight bathed the rocky enclosure
, deepening the shadows, though the
tinaja
gleamed where it formed a rock pool. She started to dismount, not averse to taking a drink, too, but Chance was there next to her, his big hands circling her waist and lifting her clear of Delphine like she was a baby or something.

A brief sense of soaring through the cool air didn't end when she landed at his feet. With the horse at her back, the big man fencing her in, she should have felt worried, scared even. They were so close she almost brushed against him when she breathed. Not that she could breathe. All of her felt caught, not just by the hands at her waist, but by emotion welling up from a place so deep inside, she hadn't known it was there. Was this how her Ma felt about her Pa? This wild, reckless yearning that dried her throat and sent her heart a racing? She should have been terrified. An odd time to realize this was the safest she'd felt since Ma passed.

His hand, his big man hand, drifted up to brush against her cheek, his touch light—though the skin had been roughened by work—and mighty gentle. Was this what it meant, to take the rough with the smooth?

“Have you ever been kissed, Ani?”

She shook her head. No reason to lie. He had to know she hadn't. His hand slid across her face, across skin that heated at the touch, and around the back of her head, pushing her cap off on the way, then it found purchase on the back of her neck, his fingers threading into her hair, turning her soft like mush. She'd have dropped at his feet, but the hand at her waist kept her up. Gentle pressure changed the angle of her head, perhaps as a prelude to a kiss, because a man didn't ask unless he meant to do, did he?

She should stop him. She may not know much, but she knew that. Only…she was twenty-eight years old. A spinster who'd never been kissed. So she waited, hoping, still not breathing, as his mouth made a slow approach. Guess he wanted her to know she could stop him anytime she wanted. She wanted all right, she wanted for him not to stop, and she wanted something she didn't know how to name, something that twisted her insides in a way that felt sort of good, sort of scary.

The first touch of his mouth against hers was gentle, like his hand had been. Felt like he tasted, maybe explored a bit, then firmed. Rough and smooth again. Felt the quiver of it in her stomach and right down to her toes. She sighed into it, into him, but didn't know how to tell him she needed more—

His other arm slid all the way around her back, drawing her in against the hard wall of his man body, one so different from hers. She'd known men were different, but she hadn't known how different until she relaxed against him. He didn't push or force, just…invited her in. She accepted, pushing up on her toes, her hands inching around his back in tentative exploration. Muscles rippled under her hands, the skin warm through his shirt.

Something strange and scary and wonderful spiraled up and up inside her, like setting a horse free on a long stretch of desert. Faster and faster and then, slowly at first, he reined them in, though they were both still breathing faster when he lifted his head. She'd have died on the spot if he'd stepped back, but he didn't. He held her like he knew she needed it.

A shudder lanced through him. Did she do that to him? She explored the line of a muscle on his back and he shuddered again. She smiled at the power of it. “Now I've been kissed.”

“You're long overdue.”

She leaned back, glared at him. “Is that why you did it? Cause you felt sorry for me?”

“Sorry for you? Feel sorry for me. This is the second time I've had my brains scrambled by a woman.”

Ani felt a pang, one not as nice as the other feelings. “Who was she?” Did he love her? Did she care? Not clear. It was the coming in second that stung, though what did she expect? A declaration of marriage? She was a spinster in boy clothes. Helped some to know she'd scrambled his brains.

He eased away some more, rubbed his hand across his hair, looking almost flustered. She felt cold. Had she always been cold and not known it? She leaned against Delphine, feeling the need for something at her back.

“Someone from my past. My distant past.” He rubbed his face now. “Can't believe I brought her up. Even I know that's lame.”

Lame? Odd, but she got the meaning, felt her power—her female power—to her toes. Ma had told her women had it. She thought she didn't get any. Didn't mind being wrong. He looked almost vulnerable, or maybe just worried, when he shifted, spilling some moonlight across one side of his face. He seemed to gather himself in, maybe braced a bit. Did he think she'd make a scene because he kissed her?

BOOK: Project Enterprise
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