She shook her head. "Not very often ... I can't think of one time right now."
"Then let's not think of him right now." He would have to deal with Russell soon enough, and needed time to decide what he would do with the irredeemable bastard. Recalling her words, a deeper frowned formed on his brows.
"What have my brothers done to help you?" Her cheeks tinged pink. "Everything, they've helped me water the garden, brought me recipes from Stephanie, carried in wood for the stove, shot game, planted trees..."
"They've done all that?"
She nodded. "Everyday at least one of them shows up to help with some chore or another."
"Hmm. Well, it's about time those boys grow up." He assumed his brothers were coming over everyday just to irritate him, but now that he thought about it, they did always seem to be busy whenever he caught sight of them. Her hand stroked the back of Sammy's head, shapely nails scratching behind the dog's ears. The whiteness of her skin reminded him of the grit covering his body after spending three days plagued by the Kansas wind. The water might also wash away some of the other strain plaguing his body. 159
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He took her hand, pushed Sammy's head from her lap, and said, "Have you tried out any new recipes lately? I'm ready for some supper and a hot bath."
She jumped to her feet, a smile forming on her lips. "Yes, I made some molasses cookies this morning. They're quite tasty."
Kid rose. The happiness in her eyes made his heart patter. He massaged the fine bones in her hand with big, callused fingertips. He placed a soft kiss on her lips and said, "I'm sure they are."
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Three days later, Jessie still couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Russell. She hadn't seen neither hide nor hair of him since Bug had flown into the house. On the other hand, the Quinter brothers were all fine. They each had stopped by to see how she was, and talked with Kid, for a significant amount of time. A sigh of pleasure left her chest. The mere thought of her husband shattered away any worries of Russell.
She pressed a hand against the thumping behind her breastbone, remembering the long, sensual kiss they'd shared before he left the kitchen this morning. Since his trip to Dodge, Kid had taken to kissing her on the lips, often. She had read and re-read every sensual passage from the stack of papers beside her bed, hoping to find a way to make Kid happy, make him love her. So far the novels had been very little help.
A loud knock sounded on the front door, startling her to the point the flour cup slipped from her fingers. A cloud of white erupted around her feet and the clang of metal rang out as the tin came to rest near the table leg. The knock grew to a pound as she quickly stepped over the mess, and fluffing the white powder from the bottom of her yellow skirt made her way through the kitchen.
Sammy, teeth bared, stepped in front of her as she opened the glass paned front door. The man on the stoop 161
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took a step back as the dog shot forward, nipping at the sheriff's knees.
"Damn it! Call that critter off!" Sheriff Turley shouted, taking another step back and catching himself with the square pillar before falling off the stoop.
"Sammy! Be good!" Jessie said. Sammy turned and gave her a big doggy grin, letting her know he was only pretending. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before she looked back up to the man.
"Hello, Sheriff."
"Where's Kid?" he asked.
She shrugged and answered, "Out checking cattle. Is something wrong?"
"No." With a weary glance toward the dog sitting on her toes, the sheriff reached forward, handing her a slip of paper.
"This telegram came for him."
Sammy let out a low growl as she took the paper. The sheriff quickly pulled his empty hand away. As the man's hand fell to his side, a horse flew around the side of the house and skidded to a halt near the steps. Kid dismounted and bounded up the few stairs. "Turley, what do you want?" he asked as he brushed past the man, his eyes searching her.
One arm settled around her shoulders. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Sheriff Turley brought this out to you." She snuggled in beneath his arm and handed him the note. His arm tightened as he gave her a little nod before he turned to the sheriff, stuffing the paper in his shirt pocket.
"Thanks, Turley."
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"Looks like things are going pretty good out here." Sheriff Turley glanced at the arm around her shoulder before he looked at Kid.
"Yes, things are going just fine," Kid said. The hand cupping her upper arm ran up and down, the friction warm and comforting.
As if it had a mind of its own, her arm snuck around his back. Her hand folded over a lean, solid hip. His fingers slipped from her arm to her rib cage, making her breasts tingle with anticipation as he rubbed the area directly below them. A slow grin touched his lips and one eye fluttered a wink. Her heart turned a somersault and came to rest against the wall of her chest, pounding against her ribs like a chicken pecking grit.
"Yeah, well, uh, you got a minute, Kid?" The sheriff's words pulled Kid's eyes from hers and broke the spell she was under.
A long sigh left his chest before Kid answered, "Sure." He glanced back down at her. "Jessie, do you have any coffee made? Maybe a few of those molasses cookies to go with it?" She nodded, a frown forming at the thought of the mess she'd left in the kitchen.
"Could you please bring some to my office?" he asked.
"Yes, yes, of course." She let out a sigh, thankful he wouldn't see the kitchen.
After serving the men, she went about cleaning up her mess and finishing the batch of bread the sheriff's arrival had interrupted. Her mind wandered, both to what the sheriff wanted, and about how wonderful Kid made her feel. The 163
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warmth of her cheeks had little to do with the heat of the day as she kneaded eggs into the dough.
An hour or so later, while she laid a cloth over the dough filled pans, long arms snaked around her waist and pulled her back against a firm body. She patted the hands below her breasts, enjoying the shivers of pleasure each and every embrace from Kid provided. The blissful sensations allowed her to relate to the heroines of the love tales. Slipping to her hips, his hands turned her around before they spread to her back, holding her close as his lips met hers. Jessie kissed him back, knowing at this moment in time, she held everything she'd ever wanted, would ever need. It still amazed her at how quickly he'd turned her life around. Couldn't believe how she'd become so lucky. Kid pulled his lips from hers. His heart raced faster than a jack rabbit chased by a coyote. He kissed her forehead before folding her face into the hollow of his neck. The arms wrapped around his waist helped to calm the raging anger and fear filling his body.
Usually he wouldn't have given Turley the time of day, but once he'd realized Jessie was safe, he'd felt generous. That had been before Turley said George Hinkle sent a message to his office, asking him to warn Kid that Jed Montgomery had left Dodge. The man was hell bent on finding Russell—and Jessie.
Keeping her in his embrace, where she was safe, Kid pressed a cheek to the top of her head, and hoping she wouldn't sense his anxiety, whispered, "Thank you for the coffee and cookies. As usual, they were very good." 164
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His hand remained firm, not allowing her to lift her face when she tried. He couldn't take the chance of her seeing concern in his eyes.
Warm, sweet breath tickled his neck when she answered,
"You're welcome."
A few minutes later, he relaxed his hold and brushed stray hairs away so he could gaze into the blue eyes. Not wanting to startle her, but knowing she'd listen to his warning, he said, "Jessie, Turley said he's looking for a gunslinger, promise me you won't leave the house." Her body began to tremble. "A gunslinger?" Fear stole the shine from her eyes.
"I won't let anyone hurt you." His thumb glided over soft skin, tracing her cheek bone and wishing he could take away the fear. "Don't worry."
"A gunslinger in Dodge was after Russell," she said. The arms around his waist tightened. "He was scary and mean."
"You're safe here. I only wanted you to know so you'd stay inside for the next few days. If you must go outside, be sure Sammy is with you."
At the sound of his name, the dog tried to press his head between their knees. Jessie looked down. Kid took a step back, giving the dog room to rub his big head against her skirt. Her fingertips dug into his waist, not letting him step further away.
"Are you leaving again?" she asked.
"No, I'll be here the rest of the day. I'm just going to go unsaddle Jack."
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"Can I come with you?" Her face scrunched up, blue eyes pleaded.
At any time during the past few days, he could have taken her, made her his wife in every way. And Lord knows he wanted to. These extra liberties he'd allowed himself since his return from Dodge were not satisfying enough. Oh, in some ways they were, but in other ways they simply made him want more. Every smile, touch, and kiss made him desire her more. He'd never known how bad unfulfilled needs could hurt. Somehow Jessie had weaved her way into his heart, making him love her beyond belief.
He smiled and tickled her chin, encouraging a small grin to lift the corners of her lips. "Yes, if you want to." Her smile broadened. "Come on, Sammy," she said as they stepped toward the door, one of his arms still around her shoulders, one of hers around his waist. It wasn't hard loving her. The hard part would be letting her go. Very soon he'd have to put her on the train for Boston. He'd almost forgotten about his plan. But like Satan knocking on hell's door, Turley had brought a telegram the Women's University sent to Dodge. Adam had forwarded it to Nixon. The school had an opening.
He'd done some quick figuring and between tuition, board and room, and train fares, it would only cost him fifteen hundred dollars. Almost three times as much as he'd expected, but he didn't have a choice. Jessie was family and a man took care of his family.
Kid let his hand slip from her arm to her waist as they walked down the porch stairs. It would mean he couldn't buy 166
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cattle for sometime, and would have to sell quite a few, but somehow he'd make it happen. Damn, he was going to miss her, but she would be safe at the school. Away from Montgomery, away from Russell, and away from him-though he'd never intentionally do her bodily harm, her virtue was no longer safe. He could now understand what it meant to be a rutting boar.
Not happy Turley knew more about his personal business than necessary, but unwilling to leave Jessie alone while he made the ride to Nixon himself, he'd asked the sheriff to send another message to the college—this one asking when she should arrive.
* * * *
A week later Jessie, more frustrated than she'd ever been in her life, slammed the back door shut. Her body trembling, knees weak, she stumbled to the table and plopped onto a chair.
"I just want to scream, Sammy!" Cautiously, the dog eased to her side, his nose sniffing her skirt before he laid his head across her knees. Stroking his glossy hair, she sighed. "I'm not mad at you. I'm not even mad at Kid. I'm mad at me. I just don't understand."
It wasn't the fact she'd begun to feel cooped up, not allowed to leave the safety of the house. Nor that Kid was forever under foot, she could barely turn around without bumping into him. That much she enjoyed, even relished. It was the fact that from everything she'd read, by now Kid 167
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should have taken her to his bed, made her his wife in everyway. After all, they were married and that's what happened in each of the stories. She'd read the romance novels so many time the pages were limp from use. The kiss they shared on the back porch moments ago left a hot, burning need in the lowest region of her torso. She didn't know what to do about it, nor what to do to make Kid consummate their marriage.
Her cheeks burned as she recalled her latest attempt. She'd gotten the idea from one of the stories. Last night she'd
"accidentally" left her robe in her room, so after bathing, she had nothing but a thin towel wrapped around her body. She'd paused in the living room where Kid sat near the fire place, reading a book, to apologize for her attire before walking up the steps.
But it hadn't work. He hadn't followed her up the stairs, as the man in the book had done. Instead, a look of pain or anger crossed his face before he went back to reading, and told her to run on up and get dressed for bed before she caught a cold.
She laid her head on the table, squeezing her lids shut against stinging tears. A knock on the door made her quickly wipe at her eyes, before she turned to the sound of someone entering.
With a wide smile, Bug walked in. "Hi, Jessie."
"Hi, Bug. How are you today?" she enquired, trying to sound friendly.
"Fine. How are you?"
"I'm good," she lied.
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"Kid around? He wanted me to drop this off." He held out a tapestry bag.
She frowned. "He just went out to the barn. Did you check there?"
"Nope." Bug walked over and set the bag on the table.
"Have you made any more of those molasses cookies? Ma says those type of treats should only be made at Christmas time."