The Beholding, page 13
Tess stood and marched in the direction her son hurried. Grass crumpled beneath her pounding feet, her skirts swished through the blue-stem. Then she saw him. Tommie, sitting shoulder high on Talon. The sight tore breath from her throat as his soles, which could not reach the stirrups, nudged the dun into a trot. He’ll be killed!
“Wai—” The command to stop him died in her throat. What if she yelled and spooked the horse? Tom would be thrown or trampled.
Straining her eyes to see Tommie’s destination, she knew for certain her suspicion was justified. This was not his first ride. Despite the misfit riggings, the boy handled Talon well … or else the horse handled her son well. She couldn’t decide who mastered whom. All she could do was follow and pray that nothing happened.
Tess nearly collided with Luke, who stood near the trunk of a cottonwood along the bank. Lathered with soap, the hard planes of his face and chin awaited the mirror Tommie brought.
“Is something wrong, Tessa?” he asked, taking in the features which faced him squarely, wanting to touch the lock of loose hair brushing her cheek as her hands clenched defiantly against her sides. “Looks like somebody’s ruffled your feathers. What’s Tommie done now?”
The bounty hunter’s innocent expression exasperated Tess even further. Her fists shot to her hips, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“Tessa! And you know very well what’s wrong.”
“Pardon me, but I didn’t know mind-reading was one of the requirements for this job.”
“Very funny, Mr. Reeves. It’s bad enough that you ride when I’ve told you plainly you can tear that wound open by doing so. But what gives you the right to put my son in such danger?”
A cord in his neck jerked, instigating a tightening in his jaw. “Look, Tess—lady. As far as my leg’s concerned, you let me worry about whether or not I’m ready to ride. I’d rather it split down the middle than be cooped up in that wagon from Hell again.” His eyes narrowed to match hers, and he leaned closer.
The smell of freshly washed man and lather engulfed her, making Tess all too aware of the danger he presented.
“Maybe I had no call teaching your boy without permission, but it doesn’t take a Gypsy’s eye to see you would never teach him. If you would come down off your pedestal, you’d see the boy takes to riding like you do to bourbon. When he’s riding, Tom isn’t limping… and, lady, that means more to him than anyone as pretty-headed as you seem to understand. To me, that’s worth all the sour faces you can make from now till Armageddon. You keep that dove-tailed jackass of a gambler at your beck and call, but don’t wag your bustle at me!”
Tess’s teeth grated against each other. Of all the ungrateful … her mind refused to complete the thought. “I wouldn’t count on you for anything, Mr. Bandy-leg Bounty Hunter.”
“Bandy-leg, is it?” He took a long stride and instantly regretted it, yet would die and spend eternity in Hell before admitting it pained him.
Her chin thrust upward. “Yes, bandy-leg and grizzly cheeks.”
Luke grumbled and rubbed his stubbled chin.
“You sound yike an ol’ bear.” Tommie giggled from atop the dun.
“Yeah, and he’s foaming at the mouth,” Tess taunted, her gaze rebuking the face caked with drying soap.
Luke bent at the water’s edge and moistened his chin. “You mean this?” He took a few steps closer to Tess.
She took two steps backward. “What are you going to do?”
“Watch out, Mommie!” Tommie squealed but kept the safety of his perch.
“I’m foaming at the mouth, right? A stark raving lunatic who probably will do something crazy … outrageous?”
“Now, Luke, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Tess backed even further, raising her palms in front of her to hold him at bay.
Luke rubbed his chin, letting the lather stain his left hand. His fingers darted toward her and she shrieked, but he instantly brought them back. He could have easily touched her but didn’t. Let her wonder what he intended.
“Where I come from, things that foam at the mouth… bite.” Luke flashed her a span of white teeth.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Mommie bites real good, Mista Yuke. I bit Zach once Mommie bit me back.”
Luke feigned a look of admonishment as he took the mirror from the boy. “Spare the teeth, spoil the child?”
Tess laughed, unable to resist the temptation. The lather on his face added to the flashing grin and his repartee was simply too engaging for her to remain angry. “I was trying to teach him not to bite. By doing the same to him every time he bit someone else, he soon learned not to do it. It was for his own good.”
“Like teaching him to ride is for his own good?”
Now understanding why the bounty hunter felt the need to keep Tommie’s secret, and grateful for the pride the lessons instilled within her son, Tess conceded and nodded. “What do the duelists say … touch6?”
“Exactly. And now I’ve got one more lesson to teach.” He grabbed a shaving rag he had hung on a limb and wiped the soap from his face. Nodding in the direction of the schooner, he told Tommie to go back to camp. “Keep watch for us, would you? I’d like to talk to your mama alone.”
The boy looked to Tess for permission. Wariness choked off her chuckle. “Well… I don’t know if he should go alone.”
Luke silenced her objections. “If you need us, you just shout.”
Talon nickered and headed for camp with little urging from Tommie. As her son disappeared from view, Tess stood in silence. Her heart pulsed at her throat, deep in her chest and at the back of her knees. One of Luke’s hands gently gripped her waist while the other opened wide and firm against the middle of her back, pulling her near. She froze, staring at him in wonder. “What are you doing?”
“Kiss me, Tessa.”
“No.”
“You want to.”
“Yes… no!”
Warm, confident lips pressed sweetly against her denial and lingered. She never knew the precise moment her lips opened to the light pressure of his tongue, but heard the whimper of satisfaction echo in her throat as he took complete possession. He explored her with meticulous care, flicking the sensitive inner lining of her lips and tickling the roof of her mouth.
Her hands delved into the still-damp strands of ebony brushing his collar, pulling him closer. Weeks of longing, of dreaming, of burning for Luke deepened the kiss. It felt so wonderful to hold and be held.
“Tessa, sweet God,” Luke whispered against her mouth, “how I’ve wanted to kiss you.” Realizing they neared the point beyond which neither of them could turn back, Luke forced himself to think clearly. She would worry about the boy being alone. And he might have to one day separate mother from son.
“Feel like walking back?” he asked, duty reminding him of all that couldn’t be. He offered her his arm.
“Yes, thank you.” Tess breathed a sigh of pent-up tension as she allowed him to escort her back, marveling at his control. He could have taken her but didn’t. She wanted to surrender to his attraction, to make love to him, even looked forward to it. But he kept his promise, and Tess didn’t know if she was glad or disappointed.
Luke studied her as they walked, noting the fine curve of her hips, the firm step that said she was willing to meet life head-on. “Do you know what I thought when you let me into your home, heard me tell you that I killed your husband, and then touched my face?”
She shook her head, afraid to speak, afraid to reveal how easily he could persuade her to succumb to the desire he had kindled within her.
He bargained with his heart by owing her the truth. “I thought you were the kindest woman I’d ever met.”
Tess faced him, glad he hadn’t said the most beautiful. How many times in her life had her beauty scarred her soul? Her gaze locked with his. “And I thought you the most honorable man I’d ever met.”
“Not the most handsome?”
She knew what he asked, though his tone revealed none of the emotion he must be feeling. The man spent a lifetime hiding the hurt. She suspected how hard it had been for him to ask and how much what she said would mean to him. For her own son fought the scorn and contempt offered those who suffered any handicap.
“Like the old saying goes, beauty and handsomeness are in the eyes of the beholder. When I look at you, Luke, I don’t see scars. I see an honorable man who cared enough to escort us to a safe place. Someone whose heart is so tender, he takes the time to offer a three-year-old a sense of pride that will see him through tough years of scorn and ridicule. I see someone who could have taken advantage of our walk a few minutes ago yet didn’t. For the first time in my life, Luke, I feel like a woman cared for, not just lusted after. I can’t tell you what that means to me. But I can tell you I’ll never behold any man more handsome than you are to me at this moment.”
Tess struggled with the words to express the emotion his care inspired within her. Her lips parted in a wordless invitation which was swiftly answered as he moaned and his arms went about her, folding her into his embrace once again, bringing her up against the hard bareness of his chest. His mouth touched hers, testing her willingness, playing, warming, rousing until her arms crept up around his neck. She gasped as his lips traced a molten path to an earlobe and beyond, the hot peaks of her breasts pressing against his chest.
Luke’s hands moved to her waist as he clutched her like a man long denied life-sustaining water. Though his mind begged, Don’t do this. You’ll only end up hurt, his heart hoped that for once in his life his instincts were wrong. That something stronger than his word could be trusted to guide him. “Walk with me again … later?”
Luke’s a drifter, a bounty hunter who knows no home, the voice of reason warned Tess. Even the small amount of time spent in the wagon rattled his sense of freedom. He leapt at the first chance for escape, just like he would leave you the first time you tried to bind him to you. You’ll never hold him.
But the thunder of desire coursing through her muffled the voice of reason. Just this once she would follow her own heart. Just this once she would travel the path she chose and not the one chosen for her by others. Just this once she would believe that true love awaited her, if she dared believe in it.
“Luke,” she whispered against his lips, knowing full well where tonight might lead. “I’ll meet you here.”
“Promise?”
“After I’ve seen Tommie to bed.”
Chapter Thirteen
The moon hung low and skimmed the treetops, penetrating the cottonwood canopies that bordered the stream. Though the night and its shadows beckoned to Luke, uneasiness filled him as he wandered through the tall trees. Tommie should be well asleep by now and still no sign of Tess. The wagon drew him, its canvas as forbidding as it was familiar. Like Tess. She fit him like a favorite hat, yet seemed a mystery he couldn’t solve.
Stars rose over the Kansas prairie, blanketing the schooner with a sense of peace and safety. The familiar opening in the tarpaulin at the back called to him, but the darkened corridor offered a threshold which might ultimately carry him through past hurts, faded dreams and vanished hopes.
Luke feared nothing, no one. Yet the thought of being denied her company, even if merely to walk along the bank, made him tremble. He leaned a shoulder against the schooner and stared upward into the dark that marked her sleeping quarters.
His mind wandered until it touched on the scene of their first kiss, then the night he woke from the injury to watch her sleep, her hair spreading in golden cascades across his abdomen. Her lips had puckered into a sigh as she stretched and allowed the silken curls to frame her breasts, igniting a flame deep within his already fevered body. The burning inside Luke grew hot at the memory until it spewed out her name in a fervid rush, “Tessa?”
A dream? The voice sounds real. Tess floated between the nether world of sleep and wishes. Reality faded and she returned to the gentle flow of her dream, swimming in the stream where they had first stopped. Water softly lapped against her body. Moonlight sparkled on the surface, offering a curious indigo beam. Panic slowly washed over her as she realized that Tommie no longer swam near her, ebbing quickly as he waved to her from shore. When she tried to reach her son, Tess discovered she didn’t know how to swim. She had never waded this far out, never allowed herself a complete immersion.
From below the surface a man emerged. Like some god of the deep, he rose in front of her, foam lingering at his cheek. The god turned and offered his back, urging Tess to thread her arms around his neck. When she did, he swam. As he stroked, the powerful play of muscles eased her misgivings and she pleasured in the gentle lapping of the waves. Nearing the shore, he let go and turned toward her. A bit farther, she thought.
As if she had spoken, he shook his head. Swim with me: his lips moved in a voiceless plea. Only then did she see the light in his eyes. Indigo. The color that filled the night and sparkled in a million stars upon the water’s surface. This was Luke’s kingdom … Luke’s realm.
With a laugh of joy she dove with him below the surface, shutting out the world above and releasing the anchor of fear that beckoned her to shore. Something fished Tess from the sweet slumber. A sound … near. Erotic as her dream. Luke!
She blinked, trying to banish the ecstasy not easily forsaken, only to discover it in human form at the wagon gate, silhouetted against the night.
“Come walk with me.”
“Where’s Jim?”
“He took watch about a mile out. Said he was tired of playing nursemaid to a boy and a salamander. I told him not to trouble himself; we’d take care of ourselves.”
Pushing back the blanket, she stood fully clothed. Naked passion drew her to him. Luke’s hands reached through the darkness and wrapped gently, possessively around her waist. Instead of setting her down, he swung her up into his arms, cradling her as if she were a babe.
Encircling his neck with her arms, she gloried in the strength of his embrace. Her fingers tangled softly in the thick ebony strands at his shoulders. “So soft. Like silk,” she sighed.
The sound of pleasure purring in her throat sent a faint shudder through Luke. He leaned forward, brushing his lips across her own. “You taste like honey.”
She shivered with anticipation as his teeth closed on her lower lip in a caress that was both sensuous demand and ardent plea. The slow, gentle thrust and parry of his tongue enticed her, but her own hunger needed sating. She countered, savoring the sweet intoxicant that was only Luke.
He broke the embrace and stared at her with raw hunger. “Sweet God, why didn’t you meet me?”
“I told Tommie his bedtime story and ended up falling asleep beside him. I didn’t mean to break my promise.”
Luke closed his eyes against the picture she made, her lips moistened by the passionate kiss, hair cascading over her shoulders, and her breasts peaking beneath the homespun bodice. “A man could drown in you.”
Her breath caught in her throat as his gaze charted every nuance of her face, mapping the flush of desire that rose in its wake. His control continued to amaze her.
He was a man of his word. I’ll never force you.
With sweet anticipation of discovery, she began her own exploration. Tracing his brow and the slope of his nose, softly caressing each hooded eye, she followed the tantalizing trail of her fingers with a kiss. Tess cradled the rough texture of his scarred cheek, then stared into his eyes. “A woman could worship you.”
He groaned as her lips parted in unconscious invitation.
“Let me down,” she implored, thinking her weight bore too heavily upon his injury. But he continued to carry her toward the bank of the stream despite the noticeable limp that hindered his usual fluid movements.
Tess marveled he could see where he walked, for his gaze never left hers. Secluded by trees but only a short distance from the schooner, she noticed a blanket stretched across the grass. Primroses lined one side of the blanket, scenting the air with their wild fragrance. He lowered her to the soft mattress of prairie grass and willow reeds.
Like a warrior he stood over her, his stance wide and imprinted with arousal.
Their eyes met… stared.
Luke was afraid for the first time in his life.
Tess knew a desperation unlike any she had ever known.
Then all his inadequacies, all her past wrongs fell away, leaving only the uncertainty of acceptance.
“Stay with me?” A thousand questions he uttered in this simple one.
Was it possible that someone so beautiful within, so handsome outwardly, could care for her? At long last, the loneliness of her life stopped hurting. She thought his name over and over, wondering if this Luke was real or the product of her dream. She knew too well how one could be fooled by believing too easily.
Slowly he stretched his full length, hovering above her, bearing his weight on both elbows. Still he resisted, not wanting to hurt, keeping his promise not to force her.
She beckoned him to her, drawing his heart closer until she felt it hammering with a rhythm to match her own. His lips rained soft kisses on her brows, earlobes, the curve of her neck. Her lips pouted, yearning for his return.
But Luke denied the pleas whispered in his ear, needing to say the things he had dreamed of telling her. “I was scared of you.”
“Scared? Why?”
“I thought you could never care for the man who killed your husband.”
“I have my own shortcomings.”
He pulled back to see her face. “None that I can see.”
“In here,” she pointed first to her temple, then to her heart, “and here.”
He nudged her chin with the curve of one knuckle and made her look at him. “Not since I’ve known you.”
“Before. A long time ago.”
“We all have pasts. Though we can’t change them, we can sure try to make now right for us.”
Her heart felt too small to contain the promise she read in his eyes. Was this her future staring back? With a will of their own, her hands molded the hard slope of his shoulders.
