‘‘You were worried, and I brought her back. If I have any more words about tonight with anyone, I think it’ll be with the gambler.’’ He turned to Kora. ‘‘Right now all I want is a meal and bed.’’ Before she could step away, he caught her wrist and pulled her to him.
‘‘And this,’’ he whispered. ‘‘I’ve been thinking about you all day. If you’re going to be angry with me, you might as well have reason.’’
His head lowered slightly as his hand moved into her hair at the back of her neck. He cradled her head as his lips brushed hers.
Kora was so shocked she didn’t move. She’d tasted his lips before, but only when he was asleep. Now they moved against her mouth, making a kiss completely different from the ones she’d stolen.
His arm tightened around her waist as he drew her into the length of him.
Logic told her she should pull away. They were in the middle of a discussion. They’d agreed to wait. If she let him too close, he might learn her secret and hate her for the impostor she was.
But logic didn’t win the battle raging in her body. She didn’t want to stop. The hunger in his kiss fascinated her. She hardly knew this man, yet somehow she understood his need.
The kiss deepened as he met no resistance. He dropped the bridle he still carried and almost lifted her off the ground with his hug. His mustache tickled her cheek as his warm mouth moved over her lips.
A low, longing sound rumbled from his chest to his throat as if the taste of her filled a need he’d been starving for.
Hesitantly she touched his shoulders and felt the power of this man she’d married. Despite the bands of muscle around her, she had the feeling Winter was holding back. She guessed that if she pushed on his chest, he’d let her go, just as she could turn her head and break the kiss. But his lips were soft against hers and his arms felt more like protection than chains.
Her fingers slid over the soft leather of his jacket and touched his throat. Day-old stubble tickled her fingertips as she brushed her hands along his jawline.
Winter straightened slightly, ending the kiss but not the embrace. ‘‘I need a shave and a bath.’’
She timidly slid her fingers over his cheek, trying to get used to the feel of him.
He moved her an inch away, his hands firm around her waist. ‘‘That was inconsiderate of me, Kora. I’ve got a layer of trail dust on me and probably smell like my horse. I had no right to grab you and kiss you like that, but it’s been on my mind.’’
His words might be an apology, but there was none in his eyes. Kora had the feeling he might repeat his actions once more before he could finish apologizing. This was a side of Winter she hadn’t seen.
She couldn’t help but smile. He was trying to be considerate even though she could see the hunger in his eyes for more. ‘‘I didn’t mind.’’ The words were out before she thought to stop them.
‘‘You-’’ Winter started.
‘‘Well, I did!’’ A low voice cracked like thunder from the darkness beyond the tack room. ‘‘I happen to mind a great deal!’’
Winter pulled Kora close as he lifted his Colt and pointed it into the blackness. ‘‘Step out!’’ he ordered. ‘‘Identify yourself.’’
A man stepped into the shadowy light of the barn’s lantern. He wasn’t very tall and even in several layers of clothes looked thin. He raised his hands to shoulder height. ‘‘Don’t shoot. I ain’t got a gun. Didn’t figure I’d need one to come a-callin’.’’
‘‘Mister, you’d better give me a good reason for being on my land, and make it fast.’’ Win didn’t lower his Colt. ‘‘Any stranger that comes sneaking in after dark had better be quick on explaining.’’
‘‘First, I didn’t sneak in and second I ain’t a stranger. I made deliveries here all last summer. I could find my way around this place on a moonless night. I came in a few hours ago and decided to wait for you. I must have fallen asleep over there in the hay.’’ He made a hacking sound as though something were thick in his throat. ‘‘I hadn’t planned on going up to the house until morning, but you two came out to me. I couldn’t very well just stand around and watch you handle her, not once I heard her name.’’
The fellow moved a step closer in an awkward gate that nursed an injury.
Kora could smell whiskey on him. She pressed a fraction closer to Winter as she looked into the dirty face of a man who seemed vaguely familiar. Though his eyes were dark brown like Winter’s, his were lifeless and cold, not full of fire and anger. His hair might be blond, if washed, but now hung around his face in straight hunks of brown.
‘‘I’ll thank you to let go of the lady.’’ The stranger lifted his chest as if to make himself more powerful. ‘‘In fact, step away from her all together.’’
Win didn’t move. ‘‘What do you want?’’
The stranger took another step closer, and suddenly he looked determined. ‘‘I want ta talk to Kora alone.’’
‘‘I don’t think so.’’ Win widened his stance. He glanced at Kora. She held her head high, but she slipped her hand between his rib cage and elbow. ‘‘My wife doesn’t seem to wish a conversation, sir, so I have to ask you to leave.’’
‘‘Not without her!’’ The stranger’s words were angry. ‘‘And she knows me well enough. She’s my wife.’’
Kora screamed and the man’s image found its place in her memory. The stage robbery, the dying man, Andrew Adams!
ELEVEN
WINTER SHOVED A CLEAN SHIRT INTO HIS SADDLEBAG. ‘‘What else?’’ He said the words with such controlled anger, his hand shook slightly. ‘‘Or should I say who else? A husband who’s still alive seems a little more important than telling me you’re left-handed.’’
Kora didn’t answer. He continued to fill his bag and mumble to himself. ‘‘I’d kill this one, but another one might turn up next week. Who knows how many exhusbands you’ve got wandering around?’’
‘‘I didn’t ask you to marry me,’’ Kora answered from where she stood by the windows. She’d followed him from the barn without saying a word. She knew he needed, he deserved an explanation, but she wasn’t sure what to say. Anything she said would only make him think less of her. She moved farther away but didn’t leave the room.
Win’s gaze scanned the area. Her face was in shadows as it had been the night they met. He remembered what a mouse he’d thought she was. He was surprised she wasn’t hiding away somewhere now. She’d always seemed so afraid of him, yet when she finally made him furious, she was sticking as close as a newborn calf.
‘‘That’s right,’’ he said more to himself than her, ‘‘you didn’t ask me to marry you. I’ve no one but myself to blame. I walked into this mess sober and plenty old enough to know what I was doing.’’
He made another trip to his dresser drawer. ‘‘I took on playing matchmaker to that hot-blooded sister of yours and agreed to having a mute brother wandering my house at all hours. I even agreed to the in-name-only part for a while, thinking I was being kind. But this I won’t stand for. I won’t put up with a man walking onto my land and demanding my wife go home with him.’’
Kora pressed her cheek against the window. ‘‘I didn’t go, did I?’’ She felt suddenly ages old and very tired.
‘‘No, you didn’t. Which surprised me after all the mourning I thought you were doing for the man.’’ Win swung his saddlebag over his shoulder and took a step toward her. ‘‘And even in the poor light I don’t think you recognized him until he said his name. What kind of marriage did you two have, anyway?’’
She couldn’t explain without telling the whole story. If she told him of how she’d signed a proxy Andrew Adams had offered by mail to another woman, he’d think her mad. If Winter knew she waited until she thought Adams was an hour from death before she stepped forward as his bride, he’d think her a greedy, dishonest gold digger. There was no way she could win. She’d already lost. The cloud of the witchin’ luck had caught up to her once again.
‘‘Tell me the truth, Kora. How long was he your husband? Long enough to kiss you? Long enough to sleep beside you? Long enough to earn a train ticket, or did you stay long enough to…’’ He couldn’t say the words. He’d thought of making love to her all day. Of how it would be between them when she was no longer shy. Of how it would feel to hold her all night.
‘‘What difference does it make?’’ she answered. All she had left was a thimbleful of pride. She’d walk away with that if nothing else. ‘‘There’s no use in your leaving. I’ll pack. Jamie, Dan, and I will leave for town tonight. I knew this would never last, nothing good ever does in my life. I’m sure the gambler will drive us, and there must be somewhere to stay.’’
Win shook his head. ‘‘You’re not leaving. It’s dangerous enough on the road at night without there being men out ambushing folks.’’ He looked at the ceiling and let out a long breath. ‘‘Besides, I need you here,’’ he admitted. ‘‘Someone’s got to help the doc with Cheyenne. I’ve got my hands full with the blockade. I’m already pushing every hand to the breaking point.’’ He hated the idea that he had to depend on her, but all the men were needed to ride the blockade, and even if he could spare one, none would be worth much in a sickroom.
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