Wildfire in His Arms

  Back at the shack by the fire pit, he still didn’t untie her or even let go of the rope as he saddled his horse, so she still got tugged a little as he did that. All she could do was stand there and watch him. That wasn’t entirely unpleasant. With long legs, a lean, hard torso, muscles that pressed against the cloth of his jacket as he worked, Degan Grant was finely put together. Maybe a little too fine. No wonder her impulse had been to try seducing him into letting her go. She might not have minded, after all, if she’d succeeded. A worthy trade—her virginity for her life? She wasn’t ready to make that trade yet.

  She wondered if he had a sweetheart in every town he passed through. That funny thought had her grinning, because if he wasn’t who he said he was, it could well be true. But if he really was the notorious gunfighter Degan Grant, then it might only be true if he kept that information to himself. What woman would want a man destined to die young? Or one as dangerous as this one was reputed to be? Well, she could understand why a woman would be attracted to a man this handsome, but she couldn’t understand why a woman would want to fall in love with him. He was what Gran would call a heartbreaker.

  “You find something amusing about your situation?” he asked.

  “Hell, no. But I’m usually a good-natured sort. Sometimes I even laugh out loud by my lonesome if something funny pops in up here.” She meant to tap her head. She made a frustrated sound instead, having forgotten, even only briefly, that she couldn’t move her hands. “But you won’t be with me long enough to notice, thank our lucky stars.”

  “So you’re still thinking you can escape?” His tone was amused even if his expression wasn’t.

  “I’m thinking Helena’s jail is less than an hour away,” she snapped.

  “So it is. So what had you grinning?”

  She was annoyed enough to give him the truth. “Your name, and your probably having trouble getting a woman once she hears it.”

  “They don’t need to hear it when I reek of death,” he said tonelessly.

  “Really? Just the look of you sends them running? Now I wouldn’t have figured on that.”

  “Why not?”

  “ ’Cause that’s not what would send me running. You, fancy man, are a death sentence hanging over my head. That’s more’n enough reason for me to see the last of you.”

  He started to unwrap the rope that was binding her arms, coiling it back up as he did it. Then he turned her around, she assumed so he could cut her wrists loose, but he didn’t. He took his sweet time untying the rope instead. So he could use that piece of rope again? Damned man thought of everything, didn’t he?

  “Do you need to relieve yourself before we leave?”

  She blinked. “You’d actually let me go off in the bushes by myself?”

  “No.”

  She was sure she was going to grind down her teeth from gnashing them while in his company. “Didn’t think so,” she growled. “So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll piss my pants. Better’n having you stand next to me for something like that.”

  “You can use the shack. You won’t be coming back up this way, so it doesn’t matter.”

  She was surprised. He was a gentleman beneath that dangerous veneer? But she didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. Shaking the stiffness out of her arms almost brought tears to her eyes. She hurried into the shack while he saddled Noble for her. Her chestnut gelding wasn’t skittish. Noble only glanced back at Degan once before ignoring him.

  When she stepped back outside, she saw her vest and coat draped over the saddle of Degan’s horse. Relieved to have her clothes back, she went to put them on, but his horse tried to bite her when she got close to it. Her instinct was to punch its nose, but fancy man probably wouldn’t like that, even if she didn’t hit hard. So she moved to the animal’s head and murmured some soothing words and gave it a few tender rubs until she managed to reclaim her garments.

  She put on her vest and buttoned it, then shrugged into her coat. She didn’t usually wear the coat at her camp in the summer. She didn’t need such a warm garment. She only donned it when she was going to be around other people, and now she was about to be paraded through town. The more clothing that covered her breasts, the better. She still felt naked without her holstered Colt because she’d been wearing it for so long. Even an empty gun could stop someone in his tracks. But Degan wouldn’t be giving it back to her.

  Going over to her horse, she saw Degan standing next to the shed. She laughed. He’d had his own gun drawn and pointed at her the whole time. “I wasn’t going to run off with your horse.”

  “He wouldn’t let you.”

  “Care to wager?” she asked with a grin.

  He ignored that and said, “If you have anything stashed around here, now’s the time to mention it.”

  “Don’t own anything worth hiding.”

  Out of habit, she grabbed the cold pan and griddle off the fire pit so she could stuff them back in her saddlebags, which were already on her horse. Then she realized she wouldn’t be doing any cooking where she was going. The enormity of what was going to happen in the next hour hit her hard. Jail and then a cage in which she’d be carted all the way to Texas to hang for a killing she didn’t do. She’d seen a prisoner transport wagon on the road down in Utah. The cage was tiny.

  She turned and looked at her captor, feeling more desperate than she ever had before. “Don’t do this. You don’t need the reward, you know you don’t. Let me go!”

  His gun was still pointed at her, obviously because she wasn’t tied and was standing next to her horse. “You might have avoided the bounty hunters so far, but you have a US marshal after you now. I found you easily and I’m not a tracker. Marshal Hayes is.”

  “But I’m innocent!”

  “Then you should be glad you’ll have your day in court to prove it.”

  “There won’t be a trial, not if Carl Bingham really did die.”

  “If?”

  She snapped her mouth shut. Talking to him was like talking to a jackass, and how was she supposed to explain that a murdered man might not be dead? Degan wasn’t going to believe that any more than he would believe that she was innocent. She figured he just didn’t care one way or the other. She was just a fat reward to him and a means of settling a favor he owed his marshal friend.

  “All right, I’ll come along peacefully if you could just do me one favor?”

  “I already did you a favor,” he reminded her. “I didn’t shoot you.”

  “Well, if you’re counting still standing here alive, I didn’t slit your throat last night either. But you’re going to be getting a ridiculous amount of money for me, so the least you could do is one tiny favor for me first.”

  She squeezed out a few tears to help her plea, but he merely raised a black brow. “Don’t bother, tears have no effect on me.”

  He didn’t display any disgust at her effort to manipulate him. No amusement either. Was he really so dead inside from his line of work that he’d lost the ability to feel? Not her, and she grinned now to show it. “Well that’s a relief. I detest them m’self. Had to try though, you understand?”

  “Certainly.”

  “But here’s the thing. It’s been nearly two years since I left home and I haven’t heard how my family is in all that time. Nor was I able to let them know I’m still alive. The one time I snuck back, there were deputies at our house, so I couldn’t get close enough to talk to my grandmother. I even waited in the woods for my brother to go hunting, but some other men from town showed up instead, so I couldn’t linger there when Johnny might not come that way at all. He never liked hunting like I do. I couldn’t risk sending a letter with my name on it to Bingham Hills either, or have one sent back to me, and I never met anyone I could trust to do it for me—until now.”

  Still pointing his gun at her with one hand, he quickly unhobbled her horse with the other. “I don’t stay in one place long enough to receive letters, and you likely won’t be in Helena long enough to receive on
e either. Mount up.” He took her reins.

  “I wasn’t asking for you to do it. Luella’s the first friend I’ve made since I left Texas. She sent my letter off well over a month ago. I expected her to have my grandmother’s reply the other day when I visited her. She didn’t, but she could have it now. Can we at least stop by her place to see if she’s got that letter for me—and give me a chance to say good-bye to her?”

  He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either, so she held her tongue as they started down the hill. She was surprised he hadn’t retied her for the ride into town and that he thought holding her reins was enough to keep her behind him. Maybe it was, but she was still thinking of ways to get around that. If she spurred her horse forward into a gallop to pass him, the reins would be ripped from his hold—if he was still holding them. He might have tied them to his pommel instead. She couldn’t tell with his broad back in front of her. Of course her back would make a large target. Or he might shoot her horse instead.

  As if Noble could read her mind, she leaned forward to rub his neck and whisper, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to bring bullets our way.” She wouldn’t mind sending them toward Degan though.

  He’d attached her rifle to her saddle, probably because he didn’t have a ring for it on his saddle. Gunfighters didn’t bother with rifles, and she would bet her horse that Degan Grant had never needed one to hunt his own food. He probably stopped to eat in every town he came to, while she’d had to avoid most towns. She was so sure the rifle was empty that she didn’t even bother to check it. But she leaned back carefully to check the saddlebag where she kept her extra ammunition. Her hand came out empty. He’d even thought of that! But she could ride close enough to him to bash him over the head with the rifle . . .

  “Get your hat and make no mistake. I’m not going to kill you, but I don’t have the least qualm about putting a bullet in your leg if you try to run again.”

  Max looked down at the ground and saw her hat lying there between them. She hadn’t been looking for it, but he must have been. She quickly retrieved it and remounted. They were nearly out of the hills. The sun had already topped the Big Belt range to the east and she was hungry. She wondered how long she’d have to wait for a meal in jail.

  Damnit! She’d done so well avoiding people other than the farmers with whom she’d traded fresh game for vegetables, herbs, and ammunition. Degan might think she only ate meat and berries, but she didn’t. She knew how to get by on her own, but it wasn’t always so easy to cope with the loneliness that came with it. That was why she’d relaxed her guard in Helena. Because she’d been so happy to make a friend. And she’d stayed there longer than she should have.

  Degan rode them into town the way she usually entered it. He might even pass by Luella’s brothel. Might. She tried not to get her hopes up. But if he did and he didn’t stop, she was definitely hopping off her horse. He might not notice before she was through the door of Madam Joe’s.

  But he stopped, dismounted, and tied the two horses to the post out front. Incredulous, Max dismounted slowly, too slowly. He grabbed the shoulder of her coat and shoved her through the brothel’s front door. She started toward the stairs, but glanced back to see that Degan was still standing by the door. She gave him a questioning look.

  He nodded at her. “Five minutes, kid. If I regret this favor, you won’t like it.”

  He was actually going to wait there in the parlor for her? Ecstatic, Max raced upstairs. Escape was just around the corner!

  Chapter Ten

  MAX DIDN’T CLOSE THE door to Luella’s room quietly. She meant to, but she rushed into the room too fast. But at least the noise woke Luella. She rolled over in bed, started to smile, but ended up wide-eyed instead.

  “What’s wrong? You don’t usually—”

  “I need to borrow your gun.”

  Luella nodded toward her bureau. “Top drawer, but where’s yours?”

  “It got taken—when I got taken. Someone snuck up on me and I only have a minute to get out of here, or he’s taking me to jail.”

  “Oh, God, the gunfighter? He found you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I sent him toward Big Belt! I was sure he’d be up there for weeks looking for you, so I’d have time to warn you when you visited next week.”

  “I guess he didn’t trust you any more’n he trusts me.” Max stuffed the little derringer in her coat pocket.

  Luella had leapt out of bed and opened a few more drawers. “At least let me give you a change of clothes. You’re a mess.”

  Max chuckled, picturing herself riding away in her friend’s scanty attire. “There’s no time, Lue, except for this.”

  She gave Luella a quick hug that turned into a long one instead. She was going to miss this girl something fierce. And she’d be crying in a moment if she didn’t get out of there. With a last squeeze, she turned and headed for the window.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Max. That gunfighter looked far too dangerous.”

  “I won’t have to if I’m quick. I’ll get the gun back to you when I can, after I’m sure he’s left the area.”

  Max was halfway out the window when Luella called out, “Wait! This came yesterday.”

  Luella grabbed the letter from her nightstand and rushed over with it. Max stuffed it into her other coat pocket with a big grin. “Thanks. If it’s good news, maybe I can actually go home now.”

  “I’ll miss you,” Luella whispered sadly, but Max was already sliding down the porch roof.

  She swung over it on the side where she usually did, dangled for a moment, then dropped to the ground. And froze. Degan was standing there between her and the horses, less than a foot away. Her last damn chance to get away from him and he had to second-guess her again?

  “Don’t pat yourself—” She was reaching for the gun in her pocket, until she noticed his gun was already drawn, so she finished, “Go ahead then, pat yourself on the back. Just tell me how you knew?”

  “If you’d spared a little thought before you jumped in with both feet, you would already have that answer. Do you think I questioned everyone in town to find out which brothel you visit and which window you like to leave from?”

  “You saw me?!” she yelled. “Then why didn’t you stop me the other day?”

  “Because Marshal Hayes hadn’t yet called in the favor I owe him. I merely saw a happy kid leaving a—friend.”

  Embarrassment was added to the other furious emotions churning inside her. “Why’d you even let me go up there alone? Just to test me?”

  “I guess I’d be disappointed right about now if that were the case.”

  “Is that a joke? As if you can feel anything. Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing in my situation? Go on, tell me!”

  “Exiting through an upstairs window wouldn’t be my first choice, no, but then I have other tools at my disposal that you don’t have.”

  “Yeah, well, it was my only choice.”

  “You got the favor you asked for. How about we leave it at that? But you came out of there with more than you went in with. I’ll take whatever weapon you collected from your friend.”

  “I didn’t.” Max took a step back.

  “That’s a bad habit you have, lying.”

  He grabbed her coat and reached into the pocket. She hit him with both fists. He still got his hand on the derringer as well as the undergarments that Luella had apparently slipped into her pocket when they were hugging good-bye. Max didn’t blush as he stuffed it all into his own pocket. She landed a punch to his cheek instead, then swore, sure that she’d hurt her hand more than she’d hurt him. But it must have been the last straw for him, because he tossed her over his shoulder.

  She was so surprised she was rendered speechless. For a moment. But then she screeched, squirmed, flailed, and punched his back, but her blows didn’t seem to bother him, so she gave up and used her hands to keep her hat from falling off.

  “If you keep wiggling, everyone will figu
re out you’re a girl,” she heard him say in that deep, infuriatingly toneless voice of his.

  “Like that matters now!”

  “Well, then, you’ll just look like a fool, won’t you?”

  She went still. He must have grabbed the horses’ reins because she heard them following him as he walked her down the street like that for what seemed like two, maybe even three humiliating blocks. Every time she tried to lean up to see where he was going, he bounced her on his shoulder so she lost her breath and the will to try again. As if she didn’t know where he was going. She wasn’t exactly sure where the sheriff’s office was, but she couldn’t believe he was really going to deposit her there like this.

  He entered a building. She heard people talking, then an abrupt silence. Degan slowly slid her down the front of his body, a little too slowly. Suddenly she became aware of him as a man, rather than just an adversary. Feeling all of his muscular chest rubbing against hers as if they were hugging, smelling his hair and neck, she found his nearness highly disconcerting. She wasn’t used to being this close to a man.

  She gasped as she felt Degan’s hands move slowly over her derriere, then the back of her waist. His touch was so intimate her stomach fluttered and her breath quickened. Then she realized what he’d been doing. Checking for weapons!

  “You could’ve just asked,” she said as her feet finally touched the floor.

  “Asking doesn’t work with you.” He gave her a nudge backward. Breath suspended, she thought she might land on her backside, but she landed in the chair he’d pushed her toward. She huffed until she glanced around and realized they were in a restaurant. Nine people were there having breakfast. They started talking again, and she noticed they made a point of not looking at Degan. Three of them even got up and hurried out of the one-room establishment. A few of them were staring at her. Oh, sure, nothing to fear about her.

  She slid her chair up to the table and cheekily asked, “You buying? ’Cause I’m broke.”