Charlene Sands (7 page)

And all of a sudden she stopped and stared into his eyes, hers large and expectant.

“You’re beautiful, Emmy,” he said, reaching for her. He slid his hand behind her head and brought her lips to his. He brushed his mouth over hers and everything below his waist stirred mightily.

Tentative at first, slowly Emmy opened to him, her mouth meeting his with awareness. Bodine knew of her innocence. No other man had ever kissed her this way. She’d as much admitted that to him. So he took it slow, allowing her to explore, to test, to find her way.

And she did.

Her hands lifted in his hair, weaving her fingers through his long locks. Then she moved them lower, to stroke his throat, then lower again, to caress his chest.

His manhood rose with each touch. His body ached. He’d been too long without a woman. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She partway covered him now, and her body responded to his. Her kisses became hot and fevered and when he stroked his tongue to hers, her moan was joyous, filled with longing.

Bodine ran his hands through her long hair, sifting the glossy locks with his fingers. She weighed next to nothing on him, for certain, yet her presence atop him weighed heavily in other ways.

He ached to touch her, to put his hands on her body. Shoving rational thoughts aside, he rolled her onto her back gently and peered down into wide, hopeful eyes. Her expression gave him the permission he sought.

“Emmy,” he said on a raspy breath. He tugged her chemise down gently, uncovering her breasts. The perfectly round mounds he’d seen only once before had remained in his mind, plaguing him.

“They’re small,” she said, biting her lip, unsure.

Bodine almost laughed. But it was a fragile moment that he wouldn’t destroy. Little did she know how he’d imagined molding his hands over them and shaping them to fit his palms. “And perfect.”

Bodine covered one breast with his hand and watched her face fill with surprise and wonder. He flicked his thumb over the rosy bud and she gasped, her body lifting up. He kissed away her surprise and she moaned into his mouth when he stroked her again, teasing the nipple to pebble hardness.

“Oh, Bodine,” she breathed out. “It’s so—”

“Pleasant?”

“Oh…so much so.”

Bodine kissed her again and continued to caress her breasts. His body primed now, his erection pressed the confines of his trousers.

Leaving her mouth, he bent his head to suckle her breast, his tongue working circles around one ripe, rosy tip. Emmy grabbed his neck and brought him down even lower, so that he could fill his mouth with her.

“Oh…Bodine. I’m aching down below,” she said in wonder. “Is that how it is for you…so pleasant it hurts?”

Yeah, he was in a world of pain, and only his lusty release would ease it. But her wide-eyed question brought him back to reality. This was Eloisa Rourke’s granddaughter. His job was to protect her.

Unharmed and untouched.

Hell, Mrs. Rourke’s demand struck him smack between the eyes. He pulled away from Emmy, staring down at her, not seeing a wanton woman with passion in her eyes, but rather his duty and responsibility. Emma Marie Rourke was to come to her senses and marry the local boy. By Christmas. Bodine was being paid handsomely to make that happen.

Emma had mesmerized him with a soothing voice and a willing body. But Bodine couldn’t betray Mrs. Rourke’s trust. He couldn’t take Emmy’s innocence. He couldn’t bed her.

God, he wanted to.

He fought the ache in his groin, the pulsating need within him. Bodine’s willpower would be tested here and now. He reminded himself not only of his duty to Mrs. Rourke, but his promise to Josh, to care for his wife and child. He wasn’t a free man. After he caught Metcalf, his life wasn’t his own. Rachel and her son would need him. Bodine knew his hands were tied. He had no other choice but to cast Emmy off.

Yet, he couldn’t tell her the truth.

“Bodine, what is it? What’s wrong?” Emmy’s worried plea reached down into his heart. He steeled himself, something he knew how to do quite effectively.

“Can’t do this, Emmy.”

“Why not?” Emmy sat up now, covering herself, and Bodine caught the last glimpse of her perfect breasts.

“I’m a bounty hunter. I have no real home. I kill for a living.”

Emmy blinked and peered into his eyes. “I know all that.”

Bodine shook his head. “It’s not right. I can’t take your innocence.”

Emmy’s face flamed with indignation. “You’re not
taking
anything. I’m giving of my own free will. Something I thought we both wanted.”

“Well…I don’t.”

“You don’t want me?” Emmy’s voice flattened.

Bodine turned from her, setting another log on the fire. And when he faced her again, he whispered with authority, “Get back into bed, Emmy.”

Emmy’s face twisted, her eyes narrowing with anger. “I don’t believe you. I can see your
want,
Bodine.” She flicked her gaze down below his waist. “I’m not that innocent that I don’t know the difference.”

Bodine braced himself. His next words would cause her injury. “You couldn’t possibly know what a man wants, Emmy. Not a man like me.”

Clearly hurt, her eyes rounded and she slapped his face. Bodine gripped her hand tight. “Remember what I said would happen if you ever tried that again?”

“You said I’d get the full Bodine treatment and I wouldn’t like it. Well, have no fear. I’ve gotten it and then some and I can tell you,
I didn’t like it.
Now, let me go.”

She yanked her hand free and rose with bravado, marching to the bed and climbing in, not sparing him a second look.

It was only a few minutes later that Bodine heard her softly weeping.

E
mma stayed in bed well into the morning. The day had dawned an hour ago, but she couldn’t face it—or Bodine. She’d been fully disgraced last night, offering herself up to him with full trust and faith, believing that he wanted the same. His hard-hearted rebuke had injured her more deeply than she could have ever imagined.

Why had he toyed with her? Why had he allowed her a small glimpse, a sampling of the passion he could evoke, before wiping it all away as easily as a swatted fly?

Emma had pride enough to feel herself worthy of his ardor. But could she believe that she hadn’t pleased him? He claimed she didn’t know what a man like him would want, but Emma had sensed his desire, his need; the growing passion he harbored beneath his trousers wasn’t to be missed.

Emma’s heart ached from the rejection. Was she really too innocent to know the difference?

She heard Bodine’s footsteps then the front door open and slam shut. With that, she sat up in the bed, noting the sun making its way into the window. The snow had stopped and only scattered clouds remained. Everything outside was tipped with white flakes, the ground layered with two feet of soft snow.

Emma dressed quickly and, realizing that Bodine must have gone out to check on Lola, she entered the main room and headed for the pot of coffee Bodine had obviously set about making. She poured a cup and found it still hot, the steam rising to warm her face.

She gulped down the coffee and cut two pieces of pie, leaving one ready for Bodine. The other she forked into, feeling famished and slightly relieved that the snow had let up. Maybe now, they could be on their way. Emma had her own life to pursue. She took a bite of pie and chewed, thinking of her plan of action.

She needed clothes—the dress wouldn’t last much longer. And some petticoats and new stockings to keep her legs warm. After that, she would buy a gun. She’d never thought about it before, but once she and Bodine parted ways—for surely they would—Emma realized what dangers might befall her. She’d need instruction on its use and would lose some pride in asking Bodine, but she couldn’t go off to find her outlaw father without some protection. Not since she’d seen the ruthless brutality of Hurley’s men who had come after her.

She wouldn’t rely on Bodine again.

Settling that in her mind, she looked outside the sunshine day with longing. She put on her coat and decided she could use a breath of fresh air. She tucked her hair inside her collar and opened the front door. She’d taken one step onto the porch and came face-to-face with three Indians.

She froze, her heart hammering against her chest. “Bodine!” she screamed then screamed again.

Her shrill voice startled the Indians and they backed up. But then, they stopped and looked at her with curiosity. “Bodine!” she called again.

Had they hurt Bodine, or worse? Was her best bet to lock herself in the cabin? But there were three of them. Surely they’d find a way inside. Trapped, frightened and confused, Emma stood there, staring back.

“Stay where you are, Emmy,” Bodine said, coming out from the barn, his shotgun aimed at the Indians.

Emma knew one moment of relief before her fear rose anew, for Bodine. Though he was more than capable of protecting himself, he was outnumbered three to one.

They turned toward his voice and one of them spoke.

Bodine answered. “
Huuhpi’,
mine.”

One of the Indians kept speaking to Bodine, the pitch in his voice escalating. But Bodine remained calm and kept shaking his head. “No,
huuhpi’.
No.”

The Indian stopped talking to Bodine then said something to the others. When he returned to Bodine, they began another round of arguing.
“Wahat, wahat.”

The Indian insisted
“Pahi, pahi.”

“Wahat.”

Emma hadn’t a clue what they were saying now. But she stood ramrod still and finally it seemed he had won the argument. The Indian agreed.
“Wahat.”

“They’re Mono Indians,” Bodine explained, glancing her way briefly. “They want food. Their clan is hungry. I talked them outta the other thing they wanted.”

“Lola?” Emma managed, wondering their fate if Lola was taken from them.

“No, not
Lola.
” It was the way he said it that sent her fear to unfathomable heights. Emma couldn’t believe they’d want her, but she couldn’t think on it another second.

Bodine kept the gun trained on them. The Indians all wore knives around belts that kept their fur-lined garments in place, but they hadn’t removed them. Three against one. Emma didn’t like the odds. If they chose to fight, Bodine could take only one shot, maybe two, before they’d strike him. “I told them, you’re mine. Get over here, Emmy. Walk slowly and stand behind me.”

Bodine backed them up with a gesture from his gun. Emma slipped by the Indians, running through the snow to get behind Bodine. He blocked her with his body. “Now, go into the cellar and get two of those smoked hams. Bring them back here. Get two, got that? Go on.”

Emma moved as fast as she could through the snow, her heart beating hard. She found her way to the root cellar and quickly located what she needed. Grabbing the food, she trudged back to Bodine, who hadn’t moved a muscle, the shotgun still pointed at the Indians.

“Good,” he said. “Now, lay them down in the snow. They’ll leave us alone then.”

Bodine backed away, his arm snaking around her as he moved, allowing two of the Indians to approach. Each one picked up a ham, then looked at Bodine and nodded before all three walked off toward the lake.

When they were out of sight, Bodine turned to her, pulling her up against him hard.

“I was so scared, Bodine.”

“I know,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I know.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted way up to kiss him on the lips. “Thank you,” she said, over and over. “Thank you.”

“It’s all right now, Emmy.” He held her tight. “Let’s get inside.” He lifted her off her feet and carried her. She didn’t protest. Her nerves raw, her pulse racing, she needed Bodine’s arms around her.

And once inside, he set her down, but she clung to him, unable to let go. And amazingly, he didn’t release her, either. He held her as tight as she did him.

“Why did they want me?” she whispered.

“They’re a small dying clan, more men than women. They need women to breed children. I told them you were mine, offered them food instead.”

Emma backed up enough to look him in the eyes. She wished those spoken words were true, but she knew Bodine had only said that to save her. “Is that what the arguing was about?”

“About you,” he said, taking a strand of her hair and twisting it around his finger. “And over how much of Big Ed’s food I was willing to part with. They wanted more, but I argued them down to two of those cured hams.”

“Wahat?”

“That’s right, means
two.
”

“And you know this language?”

“I know enough. I spend a good deal of my time chasing down outlaws in this area. Doesn’t hurt to know how to deal with the Indians. You have to show strength. They don’t respect you if you don’t argue.”

“You’re certainly good at arguing.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” He crooked his mouth up.

“Wasn’t meant to be,” she said, still clinging to him, “but I can’t disagree with a man who keeps saving me.”

“I like an agreeable woman,” he said, and Bodine kissed her long and hard, his lips crushing hers. Emma’s body rang out, his touch becoming familiar and so welcome. When she invited more he set her away, a look of resignation deep in his eyes. “Now let’s get warm by the fire.”

Emma nodded. She understood that look. Bodine had cast her aside once again.

She knew in her heart that it was the last thing he truly wanted to do.

Emma sat on the saddle blanket staring into the fire, still trembling from her encounter with the Mono Indians. Though Bodine had assured her they weren’t violent by nature and they wouldn’t be back, Emma had her doubts. They knew of the root cellar now and might return for more food when they could catch them both unawares.

Emma put out her hands, warming them and then wove her fingers through her hair, untangling the strands, wishing she had benefit of brush and comb.

“Snow’s melting,” Bodine said, coming to stand behind her. She had to turn her head and look up to see his face. “Storm’s over. We should be able to leave tomorrow.”

Emma turned back to the fire, watching the flames. Finally, they’d be on their way and she could direct her attention away from Bodine and toward the reasons she’d left her home in the first place. At times, she thought of her Gram Eloisa. She missed her terribly. And she knew the older woman loved her, but she also knew she’d understand her need to venture out. She and her Gram were alike in many ways. “That’s good, but I’ll need some things.”

“We’ll stop in Oakhurst for provisions. See what we can scrounge up.”

“I hope they have something for me to wear.”

In a rare moment, Bodine teased, “You didn’t like wearing my shirt?”

Emma was still too distraught over the encounter to smile. “You weren’t supposed to see me in that.”

Bodine crouched down and peered at the blazing fire. “But I did. Can’t say I didn’t like what I saw.”

Emma couldn’t respond to that. Bodine had made himself crystal clear that she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted. Yet, his actions last night betrayed him. “I’ll need some proper clothes.”

“You’ll get them.” He lifted the tattered hem of her gown. “This dress is about ready to fall off you.”

“You needed bandages.”

“Appreciate what you did, Emmy.”

Emma nodded, but in her heart she knew Bodine wouldn’t have been injured at all if she hadn’t acted rashly with Hurley. She’d taken his money without thought, her anger and indignation spurring her on. Bodine had rescued her twice before and, today, a third time. She shivered at the thought of being captured by those Indians. If Bodine hadn’t been around, hadn’t heard her screams…

“Where do we go from Oakhurst?” she asked, suddenly unsure of everything. She’d set forth with a plan in mind and nothing had turned out as she had hoped. She looked to Bodine for answers.

“We’ll head northwest. Hit the towns along the way to San Francisco.”

“You’ll be searching for Metcalf,” she stated plainly.

“Yeah, and you’ll be searching for another outlaw.”

Emma turned to him. “He’s my father.”

“Humph.”

He didn’t understand her great need to find the man who’d created her—a man who hunted outlaws hardly would sympathize—but Emma knew she couldn’t go on with her life until she tried. She was ready to deal with anything she discovered about Jake Trundy and mentally braced herself for disappointment. “Tell me about your father, Bodine.”

He drew breath into his lungs. “Not much to tell. He abandoned his family when I was just a babe. Josh and I never knew him.”

“That’s right, your mama had twin boys.” Emma realized the two brothers must have been close, relying on each other since they had no father. It explained Bodine’s guilt and anger over losing Josh in such a tragic way.

“And what of your mother?”

“My mother married again. Let’s just say she would have been better off without him.” Bodine clenched his fists. “He ruined her life.”

Emma laid a hand on his arm, but Bodine rose then, refusing her comfort. “I’d best check on Lola again. She needs to get outside. She’s about to go loco in that barn.”

“You’re going out?” Panicked, Emma stood, too. Why’d he have to go back outside so soon? Why couldn’t they just remain by the fire the rest of the day?

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes narrowing. Then he repeated slowly. “To check on Lola.”

“But…but,” Emma said quietly, biting her lip, “the Indians? How can you be sure they’re gone?”

“They’re gone, Emmy.”

Emma gazed out the window, then lifted her chin, hiding her fear. “You’re right. They’re gone. You know, I think I need some fresh air, too. And I miss Lola.”

“Do you now?” Bodine’s eyes twinkled, yet his expression didn’t change.

Emma walked past him and reached for her coat. Putting it on, she ignored him standing there with hands on hips, watching her every move. “Yes, it’s stuffy in here. The fire’s smoking up the room.”

“Wait just a second.”

Emma stood ramrod still. “Why?”

Bodine walked over to the hearth, bent and dipped his finger into the cooling ashes. Then he walked over to her and painted a slash just under each of her eyes. He did the same to himself.

“Is that some sort of war paint to keep the Indians away?”

The twinkle in his eyes returned though he spoke in a solemn tone. “Might frighten an Indian or two seeing a white woman wearing war paint.”

“Really?” Emma felt a little better about leaving the cabin now.