Gunslinger (7 page)

Desperado waited until the last hundred cows were being herded across before following them into the cold water. From the corner of his eye he saw that Chloe had started back into the water and he wondered what in God’s name she was doing. Then he saw the calf struggling in deep water and let out a curse.

“Chloe, go back!” he shouted. “I’ll get the calf.”

His voice didn’t carry over the noise of rushing water and bellowing cows. Abruptly changing course, he urged his mustang toward the floundering calf. Suddenly he saw something that knocked the breath from him. A fallen tree carrying a ton of debris was barreling downstream straight at Chloe. He shouted a warning. She didn’t hear him. He wasn’t going to reach her in time. Acting out of fear and pure instinct, Desperado unwound his rope from his saddlehorn and swung it high in the air, forming a large loop.

Desperado realized that if he missed he wouldn’t have another chance. He offered up a brief prayer to the God he hadn’t acknowledged in years and sent the rope flying. He let out a roar of approval when the rope settled around Chloe’s slim waist. Then he gave a vicious yank, pulling her off her horse with scant seconds to spare. An ungodly bellow rent the air as both the calf and Chloe’s hapless horse were carried downstream, snagged within the knot of debris.

Slowly he reeled Chloe in, like a fish on a line. Then he reached down and plucked her out of the water. “You little fool!” he scolded. “What made you do a damn fool thing like that? I ought to…” What? What did he really want to do to her? Shake some sense into her? Kiss her? Beat her black and blue? Undress her and make slow love to her? Yes, he decided. All of the above. And more.

“I didn’t see the logjam,” Chloe sputtered, clinging to his saddle. “I wanted to save the calf.”

“Now both the calf and your horse are lost.” His horse had found solid ground and he hauled her up, settling her between his thighs as he headed toward shore where the drovers anxiously awaited them.

Chloe slid from the saddle and sat on the ground to catch her breath while the drovers crowded around Desperado, patting his back and congratulating him for his heroic feat.

“Here come the chuck wagon and supply wagon!” Chloe cried, drawing attention to the dark, swirling water again. “They won’t make it across!”

Spitting out a curse, Desperado mounted his horse and urged him back into the water. The chuck wagon had just rolled down to the water’s edge when Desperado reached the opposite shore.

“I’ll lead the team across,” he told Randy as he grasped the lead reins and led the protesting animals into the water. “Wait here until I return,” he called back to Rowdy, who was driving the supply wagon.

The chuck wagon had reached the middle when Desperado realized that Rowdy had started across in deliberate defiance of his warning. When the chuck wagon hit high ground, Desperado left Randy on his own to go back for the supply wagon. Rowdy wasn’t having the same kind of luck as Randy had had crossing the river. His team was frightened and pulling in opposite directions beneath Rowdy’s inept handling. The heavy covered wagon was floundering and in danger of overturning when Desperado grasped the reins from Rowdy’s fingers and struggled to bring the team under control. Then he led them safely across.

“I coulda handled it,” Rowdy complained when they pulled onto a grassy area on the opposite shore.

Desperado gave him one of his mean-as-hell looks and promptly ignored him. He was so exhausted he could barely move. He slid from the saddle and collapsed on the ground, his breath coming in short, uneven spurts. Not even exhaustion, however, could dim his sense of awareness when Chloe sat down beside him.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You more than earned your pay today.”

He searched her face, surprised at her concern; then he gave her a weary smile. “That’s quite a compliment coming from you.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Jones,” she said saucily, returning his smile. “We’ll camp here a night or two to rest the men and cows. This is the last river we’ll have to cross in Texas. That leaves the Beaver River in the Oklahoma panhandle and the Cimarron in Kansas. With any luck, they will have already crested by the time we reach them.”

“How do you know so much about the trail between here and Dodge City?” Desperado wondered aloud.

“From Ted Ralston, my stepfather. He’d undertaken many a trail drive in his time and enjoyed talking about them. He also kept meticulous records about every hardship he’d encountered during various drives throughout the years. I know every river and every stream and creek along the route. I’ve never seen them, of course. Ted would never allow me to accompany him. But I feel as if I know every danger the trail has to offer.”

Desperado’s admiration for the scrappy beauty rose considerably. She might be a tenderfoot but she hadn’t undertaken this drive without first learning everything she could about the trail. He could fault Chloe for many things but stupidity wasn’t one of them.

The next day Desperado rode ahead to scout the area. He had a gut feeling they were being trailed and expected to find Tate Talbot and his cronies out there somewhere. His hunch paid off when he ran into Tate a few miles north of the campsite. He came from behind a boulder and rode out to meet Desperado.

“What are you doing here?” Desperado wanted to know when he reined in beside Tate.

“Keeping an eye on you,” Tate snarled. “The drive would be over if you hadn’t gone and acted the hero. Was pulling Chloe out of the water necessary? I told Pa I could handle this for him, but he didn’t trust me. He had to go and hire a gunslinger.” He shoved his injured right hand under Desperado’s nose. “It’s almost healed. I’ve been practicing. One day I’ll call you out and I won’t lose.”

“Is that a fact?” Desperado drawled.

“Yeah, that’s a fact. There’s something else I don’t like. It’s the way you’re handling your job. Things got to start happening soon. Pa will have a fit if those cows reach Dodge City. I got a plan. My pals and I will do the work, all we need is your cooperation.”

“Spit it out, Tate,” Desperado rasped. “Who do you plan to kill this time? That last fire you started fizzled out. You could have killed Miss Sommers if she hadn’t outsmarted you.”

“Ha! The day hasn’t come when Chloe can outsmart me. Has she told you about her and me?” Tate taunted. “She’s a hot little piece, Jones.” He sent Desperado a narrow-eyed look. “Or have you already found that out for yourself? I’m warning you, don’t touch her. She’s mine.”

Desperado merely stared at him.

“Never mind. I was the first but I knew I wouldn’t be the last. Have you found that sweet little mole on the inside of her left thigh yet? She likes it when you—”

Desperado leaped at Tate from his horse’s back, taking Tate down with him. They rolled on the ground, exchanging punches, but Tate didn’t have a chance. When Desperado deemed the young fool had had enough, he hauled him to his feet.

“You’re a liar and a braggart, Talbot. Chloe hates your guts. If you so much as looked cross-eyed at her she’d shoot your balls off and feed them to the pigs.”

Desperado released Tate so fast he landed on his rump. He rose quickly and dusted himself off. “Chloe doesn’t really hate me,” he said with sly innuendo. “It’s all pretense. Ask anyone. We were gonna get hitched. Her mother gave us her blessing.”

“Yeah? What happened to break you up?”

“A misunderstanding,” Tate muttered, refusing to look Desperado in the eye. “Then she took it into her head to run the ranch herself after her ma died. Damn shame. She was the best I ever had. She had a tight little—”

“Don’t say it,” Desperado warned. A muscle jumped in his jaw. Tate must have sensed that he had goaded Desperado too far, for he abruptly fell silent, staring at Desperado’s gun as if he expected it to jump out of the holster and bite him.

“If you’re through damaging a lady’s reputation, I’ll hear your plan now,” Desperado rasped.

Tate’s manner changed when he realized Desperado wasn’t going to kill him. “That’s more like it,” he said with considerably more confidence. “I’ve been scouting ahead. There’s a deep ravine about ten or fifteen miles from where you’re camped. My friends and I will camp nearby. There is plenty of good grazing land a mile or so from the ravine. I know you scout ahead. You’re to conveniently forget to mention the ravine. I’ll leave it to you to convince Chloe to camp somewhere nearby that night.”

“What then?” Desperado asked. He knew what was coming but wanted to hear it from Talbot.

“We’ll take it from there. See that you make yourself scarce while we stampede the herd into the ravine. Half or more of the herd will be lost before they can be stopped. Even at twelve dollars a head there won’t be enough money to pay the taxes and Pa will get what he wants.”

Desperado was torn. He still had the money Calvin Talbot had paid him to sabotage the drive and it seemed to weigh him down. To whom did he owe loyalty? A man who had paid him seven hundred and fifty dollars or a woman who’d offered him fifty dollars a month? In truth he owed Chloe nothing. Whether or not she lost the ranch was immaterial to him, he tried to convince himself. The ranch was lost to him anyway and had been for a very long time.

“What’s the matter, Jones, are you having second thoughts?” Tate taunted. “Are you a hired gun or has Chloe’s taut little body made you soft in the head?” He sent Desperado a challenging look. “Chloe must be hard up to bed a half-breed gunslinger.”

Hearing the truth about himself had a sobering effect on Desperado. He should know better than to think Chloe would look favorably upon a man with an unsavory reputation and Indian blood flowing through his veins. He belonged to a breed of restless men who hired out their guns and disappeared into the sunset when someone faster came along. His future was uncertain. A gunslinger had no guarantee of long life and happiness. Had he become a rancher like his father, he could have earned respectability and eventually married and fathered children.

But his life had taken a far different course from what his father had envisioned for him. Because Norie Sommers had hated him, he had found refuge with his mother’s people and lost his right to become the rancher he was meant to be. He was a gunslinger and a damn good one. He’d taken Calvin Talbot’s money and now his reputation was at stake. He had no choice but the obvious one.

“One more word about Chloe and you’re a dead man,” Desperado hissed. “My reputation speaks for itself, but I draw the line at slandering a lady. I was hired by your father to do a job and I intend to fulfill my obligation. Therefore I won’t be around when you stampede the cattle into the ravine.”

“Now you’re talking,” Tate said, gloating. “We may not see eye to eye on a lot of things but we can still work together to get a job done. Pa would see you in hell if you double-crossed him.”

“I’m already there,” Desperado muttered as he turned his horse back toward camp.

Chapter Six

Indecision rode Desperado mercilessly. He knew what was going to happen and didn’t like it. Though he went to bed and tried to sleep, sleep eluded him. His body was tense, his mind alert, waiting, waiting for the sound that would signal the stampede. He knew what was coming, yet he couldn’t bring himself to accept the inevitable.

He wondered why he’d suddenly found a conscience when he hadn’t had one in years. Cursing his misplaced morals, Desperado decided to ride out to the herd and do what he could to prevent senseless loss of lives. He hated the thought of any of the young cowboys getting hurt in the stampede. He rose from his bedroll, strapped on his guns and picked his way around the sleeping men to his horse. He happened to glance under the supply wagon where Chloe had made up her bed and froze in mid-stride, gaping at Chloe’s empty bedroll. He spit out a curse. If trouble didn’t find Chloe, she went out looking for it.

Raw panic kicked him in the gut. There was only one place Chloe could be. With the herd. He didn’t bother saddling his horse as he leaped upon the mustang’s back and booted him in the ribs. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire, followed by the thunder of pounding hooves. Shouting an Indian whoop into his horse’s ear, he rode hell for leather toward the stampeding herd.

Chloe had felt edgy all evening. And this time she couldn’t fault Desperado Jones and those dark, sexy eyes of his, which seemed to follow her with an intensity that turned her blood to liquid fire. No, this time her nervousness was the result of a vaguely disturbing premonition. But without solid proof of trouble, she had no reason to alert Desperado or the drovers. Since sleep was out of the question, she decided to ride out to the herd and make sure all was well.

Nothing seemed amiss when she reached the herd. The three men on night duty were crooning softly to keep the herd calm. Chloe rode over to join them.

“What are you doing here, Miss Chloe?” a young man named Sonny asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Chloe mumbled, ashamed to admit her lack of faith in her own men’s ability. “Everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” Sonny said. “Me, Pete and Lucky haven’t had a speck of trouble with the herd tonight.”

“Good. Things have gone smoothly thus far and I want to keep it that way. Keep your eyes—”

Suddenly all hell broke loose. Three men came riding out of the darkness, whooping and hollering like banshees and firing into the air. Complete chaos followed in short order. The cows, spooked by the unexpected noise, stampeded toward the ravine, just as Talbot had planned.

Unprepared for disaster, the three inexperienced drovers didn’t react fast enough to head them off.

“Head them off before they scatter!” Chloe shouted as she took off after the frightened herd. Had she known that the herd was headed toward tragedy, she would have been horrified.

Chloe and the drovers tried unsuccessfully to stop the stampede. More men are needed, Chloe thought distractedly as she rode ahead of the drovers. She prayed that the rest of the drovers had heard the commotion and would arrive in time to lend a hand. She needed Desperado. She needed him now more than ever.

The earth shook beneath him as Desperado plunged into the midst of five hundred head of stampeding cattle. He searched frantically for Chloe but the cloud of dust blinded him. His heart nearly stopped when he finally spied her. She was racing alongside the herd, heading directly for the ravine, unaware of the peril awaiting her. Panic accelerated his heartbeat. Unless he could stop Chloe, she would ride straight into the ravine and sure death.

He felt a spark of hope when he saw that the drovers from camp had arrived. But he had eyes only for Chloe and the imminent danger. She had reached the front of the stampeding herd now and began firing her pistol into the air in an attempt to turn the leaders. Desperado held his breath. If she succeeded in turning the herd back into themselves, the stampeding cows could be stopped before they reached the ravine. Unfortunately, the ploy didn’t work, and the drovers were too far away to help Chloe. Within minutes she would be swept over the ravine and buried beneath tons of dying cattle.

Digging his heels in, Desperado used skills learned from the Indians as he leaned low over his mustang’s neck and whispered encouraging words. “There’s a ravine ahead!” he shouted as he passed each of the drovers. “Turn the herd away from it.”

The drovers began shooting into the air, trying to head the herd in another direction. Slowly but surely the herd turned from the ravine. Desperado’s relief was short-lived. He saw at a glance that the tactic had come too late to save Chloe. If he didn’t do something fast she’d be swept into the ravine by the turning edge of the herd. After a quick assessment of the situation, he came to but one conclusion. The only way to reach Chloe in time was to cut through the herd. It was perilous. Foolhardy. Stupid. But he was willing to take the risk to save Chloe’s life.

* * *

Chloe realized that the rest of her crew had arrived and felt enormous relief. She’d been unable to turn the herd on her own and knew that every available hand was needed to stop them. She saw Sonny fighting his way to her and motioned for him to stay where he was, but he seemed determined to reach her. Then she saw Desperado plunge into the middle of the stampeding herd and her breath nearly stopped. What did he think he was doing?

Her gelding shied beneath her and it took all her strength to control the frightened animal. But she couldn’t blame him. The stampeding herd was crowding her mount. She saw Sonny signaling her but couldn’t make out what he was trying to convey. He cupped his mouth and shouted something, then he pointed behind her. This time she understood, and the blood froze in her veins.

Ravine? There was a ravine behind her? She turned in her saddle and saw what she hadn’t seen before. Less than twenty yards ahead of her the earth fell sharply away. She tried to angle around the herd, but they charging animals were still crowding her toward the edge. Then she saw Desperado, fighting his way through the herd toward her. He wasn’t going to make it! He was going to be swept beneath the cutting hooves of five hundred head of cattle.

Abruptly her attention was diverted when the herd made a slight deviation, pushing her even closer to the ravine. There was no hope for her now. She was a goner. She’d be swept over the cliff. Her gelding shied, pawing the air as the cattle brushed against it, edging it toward the ravine. Chloe squeezed her eyes shut and awaited death. She hadn’t counted on Desperado’s determination to save her.

Instead of plunging down the ravine as she expected, she felt herself being lifted from the saddle. When she opened her eyes, she was resting between Desperado’s hard thighs, his strong arms holding her firmly against his chest.

“They’re turning!” Desperado called to Sonny and Lucky as he fought his way to the edge of the herd. “I’ll take care of Chloe. You and the others can handle it from here.”

“My horse…” Chloe began.

Desperado rode to the edge of the ravine and looked down. The sky had turned from inky black to pearly gray, allowing Chloe a glimpse of her horse at the bottom of the ravine. He was stomping the ground and shaking his mane, but obviously unhurt. She saw the skid marks where he had slid down, and she shuddered. She knew she wouldn’t have been as lucky as her mount.

“Someone will bring him back,” Desperado said as he reined his mustang toward the campsite.

His arms felt like heaven, Chloe mused as they closed strongly around her. So safe, so comforting. She had no idea how he had reached her in time, but she thanked God that he had. She clung to him like a lifeline as they rode into camp.

The camp was deserted. Every able-bodied man was with the herd and probably would be for some time. Desperado dismounted and reached for Chloe. She slid down his body until her feet touched the ground.

“Can you stand?” he asked gruffly, as if speech was difficult.

She nodded and he slowly withdrew his arms. Without his support, her legs began to buckle. Her brush with death had frightened her more than she cared to admit. She had almost lost her life, and Desperado had saved her at great risk to his own. His hands returned to her waist, supporting her while she gained her balance.

She licked her lips, staring at him with more than simple gratitude. His eyes were wary as he returned her regard, but she saw something so sweet in their dark depths it fired her blood and set her pulses to racing. She heard him groan moments before his mouth came down hard on hers. She tasted raw desperation on his lips, and something wild and primitive.

Desperado knew he had lost control the moment his lips touched Chloe’s. He’d never felt this kind of wildness for a woman. His body strained against hers as he pulled her roughly into his arms. He felt but a momentary resistance, then she melted against him. He wanted this woman, even though he knew she was the last woman he should want.

Even though he knew that once wouldn’t be enough.

Pulling back, he stared at her. Her eyes widened as if in acknowledgment of the need they shared. Her chest rose and fell with her ragged breathing, and his nostrils flared at the scent of her arousal. He watched her eyes flutter, listened to the soft moan escaping her lips, and he knew that nothing short of death would stop him from taking this woman whose seductive green eyes and lush red lips were more temptation than a man should have to bear. Chloe Sommers had driven him beyond the bounds of sanity.

“Not here,” he rasped gruffly.

“What?”

“I’ll find a place where we won’t be disturbed. You want the same thing I want, don’t you?”

“I…I…”

“Don’t worry. Leave everything to me. No woman could look at me like that and not want the same thing I do.”

He snatched a blanket from his bedroll, scooped her into his arms and carried her to a deserted spot behind a rust-colored butte beyond the campsite.

“Mr. Jones, what—”

His lips effectively halted her words. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her mouth. Her taste, her scent, everything about her was unique. He couldn’t wait to get her naked, to explore her sweet curves and discover the secrets of her slim body. Would she hold him snugly within her? Did she know how to drive a man mad by using those tiny inner muscles on his rod when it was buried deep inside her? He didn’t care about the men who had been before him: he’d make her forget all of them.

He stopped beneath a concealing overhang and tossed down the blanket. Then he lowered her to the ground and followed her down.

“Where are we?” Chloe gasped as she glanced around in confusion.

“Where we can be alone.” His fingers touched her breast. He felt Chloe’s heart thump beneath his fingertips and fought the almost savage urge to tear off her clothes and thrust himself deep inside her. With shaking hands he unbuckled her gunbelt and pulled it free.

“This is what we both want, Chloe. We’ve been heading toward this moment since we first met. Lift your hips, honey, so I can undress you.”

The doubt in her eyes did nothing to deter him as he worked the buttons on the flap of her trousers free and began to skim them down her long legs. When she grasped his wrists, he said, “Look at me, honey.”

She tipped her head back and stared at him. “Take your hands away. I want to see all of you. Then you can see all of me. Don’t worry about the drovers. They’ll be occupied with the herd for hours.”

Her hands dropped away, and he didn’t give her a chance to change her mind as he deftly removed her boots and stockings. He kept her gaze from straying from his by sheer dint of will as he skimmed her denims and drawers down her long legs and tossed them aside. Then he sat back on his heels and looked his fill. Her body was peaches and cream and golden where it had been kissed by the sun.

Her legs were every bit as long and shapely as he’d imagined. He followed the enticing turn of her ankles past a pair of dimpled knees, his gaze coming to rest on the inner softness of her white thighs. He tried to stifle a groan and failed as his gaze homed in on the curly blonde thatch of hair crowning her woman’s mound. He lowered his head and kissed her there, eliciting a shocked gasp from Chloe. She tried to bring her legs together but he wouldn’t allow it as he gently spread her thighs and touched her there. The moment he touched her silken flesh, a great shudder passed through him.

“Desperado!”

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he groaned.

Reluctantly he let her legs fall together so he could concentrate on removing the rest of her clothing. “Lift your shoulders,” he rasped. Need rode him hard. If he didn’t put himself inside her soon he was going to explode.

With surprising dexterity he removed her jacket, blouse and camisole, grinning to himself when he realized he’d been right. She wore nothing to fetter those glorious feminine mounds. High and proud, her creamy breasts were crowned with pointed coral nipples already puckered with arousal.

“I knew you’d be perfect,” Desperado groaned as he raised one tempting breast and sucked a nipple into his mouth. His rod jerked violently against the rough material of his trousers, and he raised his hips so he could unfasten the buttons and relieve the pressure without removing his mouth from her breast.

Chloe arched into him, melting under his touch like warm butter. She was still dazed after her near brush with death and unable to think past the way her body was responding to Desperado’s touch. She’d known back at the campsite, when she’d looked into Desperado’s dark eyes, that it would end like this. There could be no other conclusion to the attraction between them…this taking and giving in the most intimate of acts.

Despite her painful experience with Tate Talbot, Chloe knew instinctively that this man would not hurt her. Desperado Jones might be a gunslinger with a reputation for violence, but she felt no fear when he touched her. She felt desire. She wanted him. She yearned for the pleasure his mysterious dark eyes and dimpled smile promised.

Suddenly Desperado surged to his feet and began stripping off his clothes. She closed her eyes, but something profound and urgent compelled her to open them again.