A Man to Call My Own

Chapter 41

SUCH A HARROWING EXPERIENCE, Marian had wanted to ride straight home, no matter how long it took, not stop to sleep. Chad didn't oblige her. He got her away from the farm and the ensuing violence expected there, but then he found a lone tree to camp under for the rest of the night.

When she complained that she didn't need any rest, his rejoinder had been, "My horse does."

She hadn't considered the horse that had ridden tirelessly for half the day to find her. She was duly repentant and complained no more.

She just couldn't seem to relax. She'd rather know for certain that those men had been rendered harmless, that they wouldn't be riding after her again. Leroy might not manage to capture all of them. Four against one was— well, with Leroy, about an even fight, maybe even slighdy in his favor. She probably could relax—at least about that.

But that she happened to be spending the night out on the Texas plains, alone with Chad Kinkaid, was reason enough not to relax.

"You don't think Leroy was going to kill them all, do you?" she asked him across from the small fire he'd made.

"He probably isn't going to kill any of them," Chad replied. "That'd be too easy, break in on them sleeping, blast them all with a shotgun. Takes more skill to capture outlaws and bring them in alive, and Leroy prides himself on being skilled. 'Sides, he won't take a chance that the reward is dependent on their being alive."

She still couldn't believe that he had come to rescue her. With all the men there at the party, Chad didn't need to volunteer for the chore.

"Is anyone else looking for me?"

"No one else knows except my pa, and probably Red by now," he said.

"Ahh, so your father sent you to find me."

"No, I let him know what was happening."

"But how did you know?"

"I noticed you heading to the stable. I got curious is all, since nothing was going on down there at the time. One of them got the jump on me and knocked me out. Leroy found me a bit later, and we figured it out together.

There was no time to gather a posse."

She nodded. She should have known his reason for coming wasn't entirely to do with her. He would have come no matter who had been abducted, because that's the kind of man he was.

She sat huddled in a tight ball, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. He'd fed her a few strips of dried beef, hardly a satisfying meal, but it had to suffice. He'd already apologized for not coming prepared, since he hadn't planned on going anywhere before he had a chance to restock his supplies. The two blankets he had wouldn't do to cover them both, unless they were going to sleep directly on the ground. An unappealing thought. And the fire was only a few twigs and wouldn't last through the night, so they would need some cover.

She'd been talking to get her mind off of shivering. It wasn't really cold, only a little chilly. But she was still wearing her sleeveless party dress, and a delayed reaction to having been abducted was probably setting in, too. She couldn't stop her teeth from chattering.

Chad finally heard the noise, and said, "Come here."

"Why?"

He gave her an impatient look. "We need a few hours' sleep so we can get an early start. We've got one blanket to lie on, one for cover, and it's going to get colder before the sun rises."

Huddle together to exchange body heat. That's what he was suggesting. But she was afraid to get that close to him. It had been difficult enough, riding double with him on the horse. And even if her senses could handle it, it was still highly improper. He belonged to her sister—well, he would soon.

"It's nothing personal," he added. "Just good sense."

Put that way she'd be silly to object. Was he cold, too? Probably not. He was just being generous in offering her his warmth.

She moved over to his side of the little fire and lay down next to him, stiff as a board. She heard his sigh before he dragged her closer, full against his side. His arm became her pillow. One of his hands covered one of hers, which she'd hesitantly placed on his chest. Warmth seeped into it and soon into her. She actually fell asleep.

And the dreams started, nightmares, reliving her capture, the fear, watching John Bilks sharpening an axe, meeting the farmer's wife. The woman turned out to be a witch in the dream, and the leader of the gang. She wanted both of Marian's hands chopped off.

Marian sat up with a start, a gasp, and severe trembling. The gasp must have awakened Chad.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up beside her. Then, "Never mind, I can guess."

He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her almost into his lap. He proceeded to rub her shoulders and her back, but the trembling wouldn't stop.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, Mari," he said soothingly. "I swear, you're safe now."

"I know," she replied.

"It was just a dream. Forget it."

"I'm trying."

But she couldn't stop the shaking. Too much had happened that day and it was all catching up to her. His warmth surrounded her. That should have helped. But it wasn't cold that was making her shake. It wasn't him either. The fear she'd felt earlier had come back with the dream and it wouldn't leave now.

He continued to rub her gently, trying to soothe her, but it wasn't working. And then she heard, "Ah, hell," just before he kissed her.

That worked. There was no room for fear in her mind when it was filled with him. She had a feeling that was his intention, just to distract her. But like that day in the stable, her passion rose with amazing speed. So did his. His kiss might have started as another form of soothing, but there was soon nothing soothing about it.

His lips parted hers, pulling her into the intimacy he offered. She had craved the taste and smell of him without realizing it, but her body knew and was thrilled beyond measure. He placed her down on the blanket, was still kissing her deeply, leaning over her now, one leg thrown over her hips. He filled his hand with her breast, uncoiling the heat deep within her. She couldn't think, didn't want to think. She held him tightly, her only fear now that he'd come to his senses and stop.

He didn't. If anything, his kiss became more intense, as if he also had a fear that she might stop him at any moment. She should. She knew that, deep down, that she really should, but every time the thought tried to surface, she pushed it away. And his hand continued to roam, over her hips, down her legs. Even with the skirt and petticoat in the way, his touch enthralled her.

But his hand found her bare skin beneath the skirt, dragged it with him as he retraced his path, and stopped at the junction of her legs. Her pulse was racing with expectancy, the coil of heat unwinding even more. And then he touched her where she thought he might, and within moments that amazing pleasure burst on her that he'd given her once before. She was incredulous. He'd only had to touch her ...

Did he know what he'd done? She wasn't sure, but his kiss was gentle again as he smoothed her skirt back down and pulled her back toward him to sleep. Her pulse quieted. Lethargy stole over her. She slept like a baby.