Texan's Touch, page 25
“I’ll be fine alone.” She closed her eyes. She’d rather be alone than have someone constantly protecting and pampering her. At least Wolf let her do her job and had respected her for that.
“So will I,” Adam echoed with his back turned to her.
The silence in the air was thick, almost liquid. The rain had slowed to a depressing rhythm, drumming, adding to the silence with its monotony.
He wouldn’t reach for her again, no matter how dearly he wanted to hold her.
And she couldn’t reveal her need for him. The years of being silent and standing alone were drilled too deeply into her. Her survival had depended on it. Now it blocked her from any happiness in the future.
“Adam!” Daniel yelled from below. “Come quick! There’s been an accident!”
Adam turned away from her, unable to say another word. She’d said she didn’t need him. At least someone below did. All he’d ever wanted was to help others, even if he couldn’t help himself.
“I’m coming!” He dropped down the ladder, leaving Nichole standing in the loft alone.
Closing his heart away, Adam ran with his brother into the rain. Daniel didn’t need to talk, his few words had said it all. No matter how Adam hurt inside, he had a job he was born to do and it had to come first.
As he sloshed through the mud, Adam realized no woman would ever understand him. She’d have to always be willing to step back and be second to what he must do. He had no right to ask any woman to do that, especially not one like Nichole, who deserved a full-time man.
Daniel led him past several houses to the bridge that crossed the creek in town. Most of the homes lay on one side while the school and church were on the other. Through the sheets of rain, Adam saw Wes standing beside the bridge. A few feet behind him men helped women and children climb from the canvas shelter of a wagon into the rain. They may have boarded the wagon to keep their Sunday best dry, but now something had happened that made their clothes unimportant.
Adam pushed past the people to the bridge.
“They’re pulling one boy up now!” Wes shouted as he signaled Adam near. “He looks to be hurt bad from a blow to the head.”
Adam looked below at the river that had been only a stream the last time he’d seen it. Now the water whirled and turned and pounded an overturned wagon with raging force. Through the gray light he could see four, maybe more, children fighting to hold on to the remains of an old Conestoga.
Men were lowering ropes to the stranded, but the rain and the wind were swinging the ropes off course. All the children were screaming for help. Cries from parents on the bridge echoed in answer.
“We have to go down to them!” Adam shouted as he grabbed a rope and began circling it around his waist. “They’ll never have the strength to hold to a rope while we pull them up.”
Wes nodded and began organizing the men.
“No.” Nichole stepped in front of Adam. “I’ll go down.” She tried to pull the rope from Adam’s hand. “I weigh less so I’ll be easier to pull up, and I’m strong enough to hold a child while I climb.”
“No!” Adam tugged the rope away.
A hundred replies came to her mind. Didn’t he think her capable? Was he afraid of losing her? What of losing him? But only one answer would make him stay on shore. “You’re needed here.” Nichole knew him well. “I can do this, but I can’t do the doctoring.”
There wasn’t time for him to think. He glanced at the boy lying in Daniel’s arms a few feet away, his head covered with blood. She was right.
As he turned loose of the rope she pulled it around her. For a second their eyes met. Adam saw something he’d never expected to see, gratitude in their green depths. In that one moment he knew what she needed, more than being loved or protected. She needed to be accepted for what she was, an equal. Not better, or less, but equal.
His hand passed along the rope now anchored around her waist. “Nick?” he whispered against her hair, but there was no time for more.
Adam turned from her and ran to the boy as she began her descent down the bank to the wagon. Wes was only a step behind her, but his footing was not as light as hers. Within seconds she was yards ahead of him.
Adam carefully lifted the bleeding child in his arms and moved toward the nearest house. As he passed the women, a few turned with him, knowing they could help more inside than watching from the bank.
As Adam left the bridge, Nichole reached the wagon. She grabbed the first child and swung back into the water. The men on the bank began pulling her in. There was no time for Adam to watch more, he had a boy to worry about.
An elderly woman answered the door when Adam kicked it with his foot. She took one glance and held the door wide.
“I need bandages and warm water,” Adam fired. “Have you someone to send to the barn for my medical bag?”
An old man unfolded himself from the rocker. “I thought I’d miss church what with the rain, but I guess the Lord means me to get wet this day.” He pulled on his coat and headed out the door without another word. Several other women passed him on his way out, all heading directly to Adam to await orders.
Adam laid the child on the table and examined the wound along the side of his face. “Clear the furniture near the fire and make beds. All the children will need to be dried and kept warm until I can get to them.”
Before he could finish with the stitches on the first boy, another child arrived with a broken arm, then another badly bruised, then another in shock from fright and cold. In the back of his mind, as he worked, Adam realized Nichole was doing her part. One by one, she saved the children.
Adam issued orders to everyone who walked through the door as only a man who’d lived through countless emergencies could. There was no time to waste. He cared for each child with skill and practiced swiftness he’d learned from his years in the army.
When Daniel entered, Adam asked without stopping working, “How many more?”
Daniel carried a child toward Adam. “This is the last and he’s in fine shape, only cold. The women with babies were in the first wagon. It made it across the bridge. The second had mostly school-age children. It missed the corner of the bridge and broke the pole acting as a guardrail. The third wagon had these women in it.” He looked around at all the women moving about, busy working. A few were already gathering up their children to take home.
“Where’s Willow?” he asked almost softly as he passed the child to Adam. “I thought she’d be in the last wagon.”
“She was in the first wagon,” someone answered. “She’s safe across the river with the babies.”
Daniel bolted, but two of the men caught him at the door. “She’s all right,” one said. “And so are your twins. They made it across the bridge.”
“I have to go,” he pulled at where they held him. “I have to know.”
“Let him go,” Adam ordered as he handed the frightened child he held to her mother.
The men lowered their grip and Adam added, “Danny, be careful.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I get them home safely.”
Adam glanced around the crowded room. “Stay with them. Everything seems to be under control here. Not nearly as bad as it could have been. I’ll probably be back at your place before you return with Willow and the twins.”
Daniel opened the door to leave. He seemed suddenly in a hurry to have the twins close to him.
Adam glanced out into the rain. One lone man splashed through the mud toward Dan’s house. Wes! His head was low against the rain and he cradled a body, limp and lifeless in his arms.
“Nichole!” Adam whispered the word, but it seemed to silence the room.
He grabbed his bag and ran to catch Wes. Adam knew she must be hurt and Wes was taking her where all three brothers knew she belonged. Beneath a McLain roof.
A scene from months ago flashed through Adam’s mind. Only Wes had been carrying May, Daniel’s wife, in the rain. And May had died.
TWENTY-SEVEN
ADAM LEANED HIS knee on the bed and slowly unbuckled Nichole’s gun belt. The leather was soaked, the Colt covered in mud as he unwrapped it from around her.
“She handed me the last kid,” Wes mumbled, “and I turned to pass the child along. In that moment, her foot must have slipped and no one was holding the rope tight. We were all laughing and hooting, because it was over and all the children were safe. She fell back hard before I could grab the other end of the line and start pulling her up.”
At the bedroom door, Daniel held one of his twins on his arm. “Is she all right, Adam?”
Adam ran his hand along her ribs and felt her slow, steady breathing. “I think she’ll be fine,” he answered. “Both of you get into dry clothes. I’ll take care of her. I’ll call if I need anything.”
Wes raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t argue. He left Adam and Nichole in Daniel’s bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Slowly, Adam began undressing her, checking for any bumps or cuts as he worked. Her breathing was normal, even her body temperature was not unduly low considering she’d been in cold water for the past hour. When he’d lifted her from Wes and carried her through the rain to Daniel’s house, she’d held to him tightly. Silently her embrace told him that maybe she was in need of a very special kind of care.
He opened her shirt, feeling slightly like a Peeping Tom as she laid unaware. He moved his hands to her waist and began unbuttoning her trousers. She was so beautiful, not like an untouchable statue or doll as he used to think of women, but like a real flesh-and-blood woman.
He slid down beside her and felt her curl against the length of his body. Raising his hand to her throat, he spread his fingers wide as he moved down the length of her with enough pressure to let her know that he was touching her. His hand stopped below her waist. He shoved her wet clothes aside.
When she didn’t respond, he repeated his cure, pressing her flesh with his bold action as he moved downward from throat to below waist. Holding her breast as his fingers passed over her, feeling her ribs, pressing into the soft valley where a child would someday grow within her.
His touch was not light like an admirer, but bold and demanding as a seasoned lover’s.
She rocked slightly with pleasure, but didn’t open her eyes.
He repeated his action, bolder, feeling her fully as she lay beside him, imprinting his hand upon her skin, warming her with his gentle branding.
Finally, he could wait no longer to taste her half-opened mouth. He lowered his lips and kissed hers lightly. When she didn’t move, the kiss deepened, forcing her mouth wide with its plundering, taking fully while demanding a response.
Her eyes opened.
Adam didn’t move. He stared into the bottomless depths of her fiery green eyes as she lay so close against him. Her shirt barely covered her shoulders, but she made no effort to pull it closed. Without breaking his stare, his hand spread out across her abdomen. There could be no doubt what he’d been doing while she’d been unconscious. The only question was how she’d react.
Without a word, she raised her lips to his once more, offering her mouth. As he kissed her, she stretched beneath his hand, offering her body as well.
Silently, he made love to her. Gently worshipping with a touch what she willingly surrendered. Unlike the first time that had been wild and free, loving now was deep and sweet with tenderness.
She gave herself easily to his every embrace, and he lost his very soul in the depths of her. They were not two people mating, but one being intertwining around and around itself until there was no place where one began and the other ended. He entered her again and again, pulling out before completion so that he could continue to hold her and touch her as she strained for more. Her breathing quickened with need for him, but he held her away, forcing her to endure more of his endless pleasing, allowing himself all he wanted of the feel of her.
And he took his fill, turning her on first her side and then her stomach, so that his hands could caress every part of her. When she cried out in pleasure, he pulled her back against him and cupped her breasts tightly as she felt his need for her pressing against her.
He held her there, denying her the fulfillment she wanted until she relaxed once more in his embrace. When she leaned her head back on his shoulder in truce, he tasted her throat hungrily as his fingers explored her now soft, waiting body.
She was pure joy in his arms, responding to his every touch now. Her body was warm and wet and shaking with need for him. For a moment he’d tamed the wild spirit and caught the fire in his hand. She responded to his needs, be they bold or slight.
As he moved across her, she welcomed his every advance. He closed his fingers around her breasts, gently tugging them again and again until they felt swollen and ripe. His mouth made her senses explode as he kissed her with the hunger of starvation. He gave her the sanctuary of his arms, and the warmth of his nearness and all life’s passion.
When she could stand his sweet caresses no longer, she turned to face him, opening to allow him inside her once more. Wrapping her arms around him, she drew him close, welcoming him fully.
All the control he’d so carefully practiced vanished as she melted against him, her heartbeat matching his. There was nothing for either of them to do but ride the fire of passion, holding tightly to one another as their hearts melted together.
He thought he heard her whisper his name as she shuddered and fell back to reality. For a long time he could only hold her, marveling at the way she moved him. Even with passion spent, he still hungered for the taste of her, the feel of her, the smell of her.
Then, just before they fell asleep he said the words he swore he’d never say again until he’d heard them from her.
He whispered, “I love you.”
It was almost noon when he awoke. The rain had stopped and the sun blinked between the broadcloth curtains in the bedroom. Nick was gone from his side, but the taste of her was still on his lips and the feel of her against his skin. He could hear muffled voices from beyond the door and knew they must be preparing lunch.
Adam dressed quickly. He needed to check on the children before eating. He should have done it two hours ago. Smiling, he told himself that he’d have to remember his work in the future no matter how inviting Nichole was in bed. And she’d understand, he knew she would. No matter how many times he had to leave her, he’d always come back, hungry for her once more.
When he stepped into the kitchen, Willow and the twins were alone at the table. Willow smiled up at Adam as if she were surprised anyone was still in the house.
“I forgot about you.” She giggled. “I think I was to wake you.”
“Where are the others?” Adam asked as he poured himself a cup of milk.
“The man with the scar and Nichole left about an hour ago. I heard Nichole say her brother was coming to Fort Worth and she wanted to be there.” Willow seemed happy to have someone to talk to so she related every detail. “Mr. Daniel tried to talk her into waking you, but she said she was in a hurry to see her brother and get back home.”
Adam fought down the anger. She’d left him again. After the way they’d made love, he’d believed that they could find a middle ground somewhere. To him, loving someone meant more than just wanting that person for a night. It meant wanting someone for a lifetime. She was his. How could she have any doubt after this morning?
He’d been a fool, he realized. She’d never said she loved him. For her, he was just one more adventure. Well, this adventure was going to last a little longer than she may have planned, for he wasn’t going to give up.
He forced his voice to sound calm. “Where’s Daniel?”
“He’s in the barn getting your horse saddled,” Willow answered. “He says he wants to ride over with you and pay his respects to Nichole’s brother.”
Adam didn’t hear the last few words. He was out the door and heading to the barn. An hour later, Adam had made a final check on the children and Daniel had arranged for Mrs. March to keep a close watch on Willow and the twins. The brothers rode toward Fort Worth.
Halfway across the open land, they crossed near Emery’s Post. The half-Indian, half-Frenchman’s farm could hardly be called a trading post, but it had served as one in this country for almost twenty years. Emery welcomed travelers with a free cup of coffee and sold them spirits if they were willing to stay and share. He considered himself more a trader than a salesman and was always looking to make a deal for a horse or a few weeks’ rations if the traveler had something to barter.
Adam hadn’t planned to stop on the return trip, but when he saw Wes’s horse in the corral, his interest was piqued. Wes’s animal was ten times the worth of any horse Emery owned.
“Maybe Wes traded that stallion back to Emery,” Daniel offered as they rode in. “I thought when Wes told me of buying it from the old man that Emery must be losing his eyesight to allow such an animal to go.”
“Maybe.” Adam shook his head. There wasn’t a better horse in Texas. “He didn’t say anything about wanting the horse back when Wes and I stopped to water our horses yesterday on our way to your place. But looks like he’s got the horse back now.”
Something didn’t feel right around Emery’s cabin. Adam couldn’t shake the feeling. The place had not only a look of neglect about it, but also one of abandonment.
Atop the dugout cabin rose a flagpole as fine as any found in a fort. Emery might not have fought in the war, but he considered himself a patriot. During the war he’d flown both the Union and the rebel flag and would raise a glass to either side, some said.
Daniel glanced up at the pole as they rode near Emery’s home. “Do you see it?” he whispered.
“I see it,” Adam answered as he moved his coat away from the handle of his gun. The Stars and Stripes were flying upside down, a sign of distress. “You got another weapon besides that rifle?”
“No,” Daniel answered. “Maybe he was just hung-over this morning when he raised the flag.”
