The Fall of Rome (26 page)

She tugged down her felt hat to shield eyes that swam with concern. “I know you’re right. It’s just, the sooner we get to Phoenix . . .”

“Look at it this way. Brady and his pack will need to stop now and then as well. Can’t ride a dead horse.”

The reference put her in mind of another man. “I hope Seth is all right.”

“I expect he’s already stitched up and giving the doctor hell for making him lie still for a spell. You can bet Athens is chomping at the bit to ride out. We’ll see them soon enough. No worries.”

“I’m afraid that’s a foreign concept to me.”

A casual statement, but one that stabbed his gut. He squeezed the soft hands clasped around his middle. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

She didn’t comment. Probably because she couldn’t imagine life without some worry or another. He wanted to amend that. He wanted to abolish her financial hardships and emotional unrest. He wanted, he thought with a self-deprecating smile, to rescue her. Some things never changed. Yet he knew in his gut this situation was unique. This wasn’t a save-the-day-then-move-on mission. This smacked of a ‘til-death-do-us-part collaboration. Instead of pitching the notion, he let it simmer. The idea seeped into his bones, diluting the past and whetting his appetite regarding the future.
“Life’s what you make it”
he could hear London say.

In his mind, Rome wiped the slate clean and drew a family portrait. Kat at his side. Frankie on his knee. In his mind, the little girl possessed Kat’s beauty, his fire, and their shared survival instincts. He wallowed in the fantasy, because it kept his mind from straying into darker territory.

They arrived at the Flapjack Ranch and the proprietor, a tough old buzzard known for his frank talk, greeted them at the ramshackle stable. “You’re traveling in prettier company these days,” Vern said as he took Stargazer in hand.

Rome slid from the saddle and helped Kat dismount, his hands lingering at her waist. “Got me a new partner,” he said. “A life partner. Kat, this is Vern Slater. Vern, this is my wife.” He squeezed her side, a silent dictate to play along.

“Didn’t read about
that
in the newspaper,” Vern said as he led Stargazer to an open stall.

“Just got hitched this morning. Heading to Phoenix to break the news to my family before word gets out. Speaking of,” he said, playing a wild card, “my brother pass this way?”

“Yup. Boston was here day ‘fore yesterday.” He snickered. “He’s got a new partner, too.”

“A little girl?” Kat asked in a breathless voice.

“Yup. Frankie,” he said as he loosened the saddle’s cinch. “A real cutie, but ornery as the dickens. The Missus and I were sorry to see them go. Kept us entertained, that’s for sure.” He looked up from his work, narrowed his eyes on Kat. “Say, she a relation of yours, Mrs. Garrett? Thinkin’ on it, Frankie’s your spittin’ image.”

Rome saw her struggling with a response.
Niece or daughter?
He freed her of the decision. “Frankie is Kat’s daughter. Boston took her ahead to allow us some private time.”

“You’ll be wanting to ask Aida about a private room, then,” Vern said with a gleam in his eye. “Bunking with other guests won’t do.”

Kat tensed and Rome knew she was thinking about Brady. “You accommodating many folk just now, Vern?”

“Nope. Not a one. But the Overland stage is set to arrive this evening. Folks with money to spare usually request private lodgings. We only got two such rooms, but you’re beatin’ them to the draw.”

“We won’t be staying the night,” Kat said.

“But we’ll be staying a few hours,” Rome said. “We’ll take the room. I’ll speak with Aida.” He nabbed their saddlebags, then touched the brim of his hat. “As always, much obliged, Vern.”

“Did you hear that?” Kat asked in a hushed voice. “Boston and Frankie were here, alive and well, and only a day and a little ago.”

“And they’ll arrive alive and well in Phoenix sometime today.”

“If Brady doesn’t catch up to them first.”

He clasped her hand and squeezed. “I told you. No worries.”

She shot him a look that said,
That’ll be the day
.

He just smiled because
that
day would come, hell or high water. He’d see to it.

She frowned. “Why did you tell Mr. Slater we’re married?” she asked as he hustled her toward the house.

Because, mentally, he’d already slipped a ring on her finger. Because she’d been melded against him the last few hours, unwittingly stoking fires he couldn’t douse. “Because a good story spreads like wildfire, and right now every newspaper west of the Mississippi seems hungry for gossip involving the fallen dime-novel hero.” He grunted thinking how far and surreal that life seemed just now. “I’m thinking it will work to our advantage if Brady hears or reads about us tying the knot. Might be just the thing to draw his attention away from Frankie, if that’s even where it’s focused, and back to you and me. Truth told, Kat, we don’t know if he’s ahead of us or behind us, or if he pitched it all and vamoosed for Mexico.”

“He killed Johnson in an effort to learn my whereabouts. He tracked Frankie to the convent.” She glanced away. “He won’t leave without getting even with me, Rome. I can feel it.”

“He’ll have to get through me first, sugar.” That coaxed a tentative smile out of her, but he could still feel her fear. He wanted to obliterate thoughts of Brady. He wanted her to trust him, body and soul. “I confess I had another motive for telling Vern we’d wed,” he said, by way of distraction. “I don’t want to let you out of my sight. I don’t want separate beds, and the Slaters are respectable folk.”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon. We have a potential crisis on our hands. Who can sleep?”

He clasped her hand and hurried her inside. “Who said anything about sleep?”

Dressed in a clean chemise and pantaloons, Kat wore a trail in the already-threadbare carpet, pacing the small and simple guest room as she waited for Rome. Mrs. Slater had been overjoyed to welcome newlyweds to the Flapjack-- especially Rome, whom she’d never thought would settle down--and though they’d both begged off food just now, the woman had insisted they wash off the trail dust before lying down to rest. Grimy from the canyon shoot-out and sweat-soaked from the hard ride, Kat had been grateful for the washbasin of heated water and the bar of lilac soap. She’d also been grateful that Rome had washed up elsewhere, allowing her the privacy to strip down.

Silly to be nervous. He’d seen her naked before. The night before, in fact. They’d bathed in the same tub. He’d washed her hair, soaped her body. They’d slept together in the raw. But sex had not played into the scenario.

Even now she had a hard time believing he’d interrupted their frenzied trek to Phoenix for a toss in the sheets. That’s why she was clothed and pacing instead of naked and waiting in bed. Surely, she’d misunderstood. Surely, he’d meant though sleep was impossible, rest was a must. Yes, that was it.

She took a calming breath and sat on the edge of the bed just as a barefoot Rome walked through the door. He placed his boots and saddlebags in the corner, straightened, and made knee-buckling eye contact. So much for calm breathing.

He’d shaved. He’d donned a fresh shirt, though he hadn’t bothered to tuck it in or fasten the buttons. He looked handsome and intense and deliciously rakish. The ornery gleam in his eye told her she’d been dead wrong about the
rest
and dead on about the
sex
. She sprang off of the mattress as though it were a bed of nails.

“You look nervous, Kat,” he said, while pulling his shirt over his head. “Not like we haven’t done this before.” Her gaze was riveted on his muscular torso. Desire sparked throughout her body, igniting lustful thoughts. She wanted to stroke her hands over his chest, trail her fingers over his chiseled abdomen. She wanted to dip below the waistband of his britches and to palm the beast that had once rocked her to shuddering orgasms. It had been so long. Instead, she backed away. “This is insane, Rome.”

“Why?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Slater are within earshot.” It was a stupid thing to say. There were so many other good reasons. Reasons having to do with emotional connection and long-term commitment. Yet, her brain and body seemed stuck on the short-term pleasure.

He quirked a brow as he approached. “You aim on being loud, sugar?”

“No. I mean, it’s just not proper.” Her back bumped up against the wall.

He braced his hands on either side of her head, leaned in. “I expect Mr. and Mrs. Slater deem it right proper for newlyweds to make love.”

Regret stabbed her gut, even as he nipped her earlobe and stole away her breath. “But we’re not newlyweds.”

“They think we are and, for what it’s worth, they had chores to attend to. Outside.”

She started to say something, but the words garbled in her head as Rome seared her neck, jaw, cheek, and brow with sensual kisses.

“You’re so goddamned beautiful, Kat.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders to keep her balance. Her voice came out a breathy croak. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”

“Because you’re in my blood. Because I can’t think straight. Because I’ve never wanted a woman as badly as I want you right now.”

“Even after all that happened.”

“Because of all that happened.”

She had no response. It didn’t matter. It’s not as if she could speak with his tongue making quick and thorough work of her mouth. A deep, scorching kiss that spread through her body, awakening every nerve ending. A kiss that ignited the primal need to join as one.

Hands still braced on the wall, he eased back and nipped her lower lip. “Say the word and I’ll stop.”

Breathless, she stared into his devastating blue eyes, telegraphing her mutual desire. She might regret this tomorrow, but today, this moment, she wanted to burn in Rome’s arms. Retaining eye contact, she stroked her hands down his chest, trailed featherlight fingers down his rock-hard abdomen. She released the buttons of his britches, but before she could dip her fingers inside, he gently nabbed her wrist.

“If you touch me now, sugar, I’ll lose it.”

The intensity of his desire brought tears to her eyes. “Make me remember, Rome, and make me forget.”

Understanding sparked in his eyes as he leaned in for another kiss, only this time his hands glided over her curves. In doing so, he ridded her of her unmentionables. She was vaguely aware of it, lost in the throes of a passionate kiss. Only after he’d lifted her and laid her on the bed was she starkly conscious of her nude state.

Rome drank his fill as he pushed his britches down his muscular thighs. For a moment she worried that he might not like what he saw. Her shape had changed. First the pregnancy had filled her out, and then, later, she’d thinned from physical labor and a tendency to eat less due to depression and worry. Sans cosmetics, she’d never felt more self-conscious. But then his lips curved into a small wicked smile, vanquishing her inhibitions.

The longer he looked, the more aroused she became, the more bold. She moved her hand over her breasts and down her belly, admiring his body as well. He’d bulked up with age. She noted a scar on his shoulder. And though he’d retained a head of sandy blond hair, the thin line of hair that trailed south down his belly had darkened. Her gaze landed on his hard, thick shaft just as her hand slipped to the apex of her thighs.

Suddenly, he was on top of her, kissing her, his hands working magic on her sexually deprived body. She felt hot and languid and deliciously starved for attention. She ground her pelvis against his, but he merely pressed her back against the mattress, intent on taking his time.

Her mind was mush when he finally broke the kiss, and words tumbled out without thought. “I just want you to know ... I need you to know . . .”

He smoothed her hair from her face, his palm warm and comforting, his gaze shining with desire and compassion.

“I haven’t been with anyone,” she blurted, “since ...” She refused to say his name, because to her he didn’t count. “It’s been six years.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, then dropped his forehead to her brow. She felt the sinewy pressure of his body flush to hers, though he spared her the bulk of his weight. “Kat.”

She held her breath, bit her lip. ”When you were pregnant with Frankie or even after she was born, why didn’t you marry for protection?”

“What?”

“With your beauty and intelligence, you could have besotted any man, a good man, an influential man. A walk down the aisle would’ve provided respectability, financial security, and protection from Brady. Why didn’t you take that route, Kat?”

She spoke from the heart, past the damnable lump in her throat. “I’ll only marry for love.”

His voice was gruff with emotion. “Do you love me?” Heart full and aching, she didn’t have it in her to bluff. She threw down her cards. “I do.”

He responded with a kiss that seared her soul. A kiss that seemed to go on forever, but then suddenly he was worshiping every pulsing inch of her body with his skilled mouth and hands.

She shuddered with multiple orgasms.

He made her remember.

Then, when she was writhing with insatiable need and calling out his name, he plunged inside of her.

And made her forget.

Phoenix

By late afternoon, eight civilians had been deputized by Marshal Clancy. All told, that made eleven men patrolling the streets of Phoenix. So as not to panic the residents, most of the men wore their badges under their coats or vests.

Because the Peacemakers Alliance operated out of Phoenix, and because Seth and Clancy went way back and Seth had vouched for the man’s honesty, Athens had trusted the local marshal with the knowledge of PMA’s existence. Once London and Josh had shown the man the telegram and filled him in on what little they knew, Clancy agreed that, even though Brady and his gang might not show, they needed to take an active stance. Hence the deputized patrol.

Privately, London and Josh agreed to keep the women in the dark regarding Brady’s possible visit until they’d spoken with Boston and substantiated the realistic threat.