The Outlaw (5 page)

Colt nudged the horse faster and Sarah’s hold
on him tightened. Another blast from the gun exploded, the sound so
close sweat broke out on her brow. When Colt yelled a string of
curses before saying her name, she peeked up at him. He was holding
out his arm, the butt of his pistol pointed toward her. “Shoot him,
Sarah, and for gods sake, don’t miss this damn time.”

Sarah took the gun and stared at it. Another
blast from behind her and she gripped the pistol, turned best she
could while still holding on to Colt, and fired. She missed. Every
shot she took she missed but the rider was slowing. With the last
shot, Sarah focused on her target and fired. He flinched. Her eyes
widened. “I think I got him!”

“Miracles never cease.”

The rider’s horse came to an abrupt stop
before the rider slumped forward, his left hand rising to his
shoulder. “I did! I got him.” She laughed before turning back to
Colt. “I told you I could shoot.”

“That you did.”

They rode hard for hours, not stopping to
rest the horse, or themselves. When the sun was lowering, its heat
starting to dissipate, Sarah saw a forested area ahead of them.
Colt steered the horse there and within the hour she was ensconced
by the shadow of trees. The smell of moss on wet rocks tickled her
senses. Dead tree limbs and leaves overpowering everything.

She groaned when Colt held up one arm to help
her off the horse and nearly fell to her knees when her feet
touched the ground. He helped her to a nearby tree, nearly dropping
her before tending to the horse. Sarah watched him from the shade
until her eyelids grew heavy. She dozed, opening her eyes some time
later when she heard Colt hiss out a string of curses.

He was sitting a few feet away, his back to
her. A small fire burned in front of him but it was the sight of
him shirtless that drew her attention. The muscles in his back
flared and moved as he leaned over the fire and reached for
something. She watched for long minutes before standing. “What are
you doing?”

“Heating a knife.”

Puzzled over his statement, she walked around
him to see what he was doing. Her eyes widened when she saw all the
blood. “Dear lord! You’ve been shot?”

Chapter Four

Sarah dropped to her knees beside of him and
grabbed his arm. When he yelled, she offered a quiet apology. “Did
this happen earlier today?”

“Yes.”

She remembered the rider’s gun going off and
the sound exploding near her ear. That must have been when Colt
took the bullet. Why hadn’t he stopped before now or told her he’d
been shot?

Looking up at his face, she saw pain in his
eyes. How had he endured it for so long? They’d ridden for hours
after the incident. And the wound had bled just as long.

Turning to look at the fire, she saw his
knife lying in the flames. He was going to cauterize the wound. The
thought made her sick. She’d seen it done once and the smell would
stay with her forever. “You don’t have needle and thread?”

He shook his head. “No. Not much of the
sewing sort. This is quicker, anyway.”

Sarah grimaced. It was quicker but she could
only imagine what placing a hot blade on an open wound would feel
like. Looking at his bare chest, she saw other scars. Most small
and only leaving thin, jagged lines across his flesh but one caught
her attention. A puckered bit of flesh on his right shoulder. A
bullet hole, most likely. Looking back up at him, she smiled. “We
need to clean this before closing it up.”

“There’s a bottle of whiskey in the
saddlebags.”

She stood and started for the bags before
stopping. “I don’t recall seeing a bottle of whiskey in there last
night.”

“That’s because it was in my boot when you
looked.”

“Oh.” Reaching the bags, Sarah dug inside,
her hand hitting the small bottle moments later. She carried it
back to where he sat, removing the cork before handing it to him.
“Take a drink. You’ll need it once you get to the hard part.”

He gulped a fair portion of it before setting
it down. He looked at his arm, turning it to see the cut better.
The bullet had grazed the skin, cutting a deep gash through it.
Blood ran down his arm and it probably looked worse than it
was.

Seeing the canteen of water nearby, Sarah
opened it, pouring a liberal amount over the wound and washed the
blood away. Setting the canteen down, she grabbed the whiskey
bottle, glancing up at him briefly before turning it over. He
hissed a breath, clamped his eyes shut and cursed before she
stopped.

Colt’s face was white when she looked back up
at him. Whisky on a fresh cut was the closest to hell she’d ever
been, the burn intense and agonizing. She leaned forward, blowing
on his skin the way her father had done when she cut the bottom of
her foot on a piece of glass when she was eight.

She raised her eyes, glancing at him through
her lashes. He was staring at her, his eyes darkening in color the
longer she blew on his skin, an unfamiliar look of hunger and need
flashing in those strange blue eyes. It nearly took her breath. She
stopped, leaning back to look at him. He stared at her for long
moments before he blinked and reached for the knife.

Sarah cleared her throat, scooted back, and
avoided looking him in the eye. “Please don’t say you need me to do
that part for you.”

He gave her a half smile and shook his head.
“I can do it.”

“Thank the lord.” She stood, glanced at his
arm, and the hot knife, and swallowed the nausea she felt. “I’ll
be—over there somewhere.”

She left, hurrying as far away as she could.
She felt like a coward but knew she’d pass out if she had to watch.
With her back to him, she wouldn’t even know he’d done it until he
screamed so she busied herself looking around the area they’d
stopped at.

It was lovely from what she could tell. The
grass was thick, the tree limbs stirred the air and the breeze was
welcome. She still smelled wet earth and knew there was water
nearby. She started to glance over her shoulder at Colt but
remembered the hot knife and his open wound, and thought better of
it. Darting between the trees, she walked deeper into the forest,
hoping to find the stream she thought was near.

Moments later, she found it. The small creek
was barely large enough to step into but it was water. She could
wash herself a bit, get rid of the stink she knew clung to her skin
from her layered dress and the sun being so relentless. Kicking off
her boots, she reached up and pulled her stockings off, tossing
them aside before raising her skirts to her knees and stepping into
the shallow creek bed. The water barely reached her ankles but it
felt so wonderful, she threw her head back, dug her toes into the
sandy bottom and sighed.

The coolness around her feet was refreshing
and she let her mind wander. Naturally her traitorous thoughts went
to Colt. Her minds eye replayed the vision of him sitting by the
fire shirtless, all that sinewy muscle displayed for her hungry
gaze. She felt her cheeks heat as she blushed.

A noise startled her and she turned to find
Colt watching her. He’d slipped on a clean shirt but hadn’t
bothered to button it. Her previous thoughts intensified with him
standing there. It wasn’t the scars marring his flesh she noticed
this time. It was the definition of his chest and how bronzed his
skin was. The way his stomach muscles bunched and curved. His
trousers hung low on his hips and drew her attention to the small
thatch of hair that started under his navel and darted down to
disappear under the waistband of his pants. That enticing “V” his
hipbones made and pointed to the thick bulge of his cock resting
inside the material.

Raising her gaze to his face, she swallowed
to moisten her throat.

He didn’t say anything to her, just crossed
the distance between them, his gaze heavy, the intensity in his
eyes causing her pulse to race. He stopped a hairsbreadth in front
of her and lowered his head, his eyes locked with hers. “Looking at
a man like that is dangerous sweetheart, especially a man who
hasn’t been this close to a fine looking woman in a while.”

Sarah blinked and laughed to cover her
embarrassment. “And how exactly do you think I’m looking at
you?”

Colt didn’t say anything. His gaze traveled
the length of her face, stopping on her lips for long moments
before he looked back up. He straightened his shoulders, the look
in his eyes hardening. “Don’t leave camp like that again without
telling me.”

Sarah was shocked at his curt command. She
opened her mouth to ask him who he thought he was but he raised a
hand, cupping the back of her neck in his palm before dragging her
closer to him. “There’s things out here you don’t want to run into,
Sarah, and if I don’t know where to look for you, you’ll be to hell
and gone before I can find the first track.”

He stared at her, his gaze moving to her
mouth again. He lowered his head a fraction and even though his
words were harsh, Sarah’s stomach clenched at the thought that he
was going to kiss her. She licked her lips and waited and was
disappointed when he let her go and took a step away. He looked at
the surrounding forest, tilting his head as if listening for
something, before looking back at her. “Clean up and come back to
camp. I’ll find us something to eat while you do. I can’t leave
that fire burning for much longer. Someone will see the flames when
full dark is upon us.”

Turning, he left her alone, her heart racing.
The encounter was strange but Sarah did as he said. She cleaned
best she could, washing her face and arms until she felt more
human. When she sat to put her stockings and boots back on, she
stared at the trickle of water, her thoughts flashing back to
Colt.

She didn’t understand him. He was an outlaw,
ruthless, she imagined, yet he’d been nothing if not civil with
her. Any other man would have stolen a kiss by now or pinned her
down and taken what he wanted like Virgil had tried to do. Colt had
done neither, which led her to believe that maybe he didn’t find
her attractive. He had a perfect opportunity to kiss her just then
but he hadn’t taken it. He’d let her go with a gruff demand
instead.

The realization he wasn’t interested
disheartened her. Why, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if he was the
type of man she’d want to settle down with. He was an outlaw for
god’s sake. What decent woman took up with an outlaw? None that she
knew. Besides, she had a fiancé. Well, sort of. She hadn’t told
William yes, yet, but the entire town knew it was only a matter of
time and had already started to plan for the wedding.

A heavy sigh escaped her. It made little
difference. She was probably nothing like the women Colt was used
to, which was, if she had to guess, saloon whores who knew how to
seduce men with a simple look. They weren’t educated daughters of a
single father who prided herself in manners and appearance. To
Colt, she was probably the most boring woman he’d ever met. Aside
from her waspish tongue, she was nothing if not ordinary. She was
no great beauty. Sure she had plenty of suitors but she knew they
were far more interested in her father’s bank account than they
were of her.

Thinking that, led her thoughts back to
William. It was why he came calling on her. She’d bet her
inheritance on it. He always went out of his way to talk to her
father, often times leaving her side as they conversed about things
she wasn’t interested in so why had she been willing to marry
him?

Standing and shaking off her current mood,
she brushed off the seat of her skirt and started back to camp. She
wasn’t sure how long it would take to make it to the next town but
Sarah couldn’t wait until they did. She could wire a telegraph to
her father, hop on the nearest stagecoach, and be back home by
week’s end, leaving all this unpleasant business behind her.

She still wasn’t sure she wanted to accept
William’s marriage proposal but she knew one thing with certainty.
She would forget Colt even existed if it was the last thing she
did.

The plan sounded feasible until she made it
back to camp and saw him squatted next to the fire. His shirt was
still unbuttoned and damn his hide, he looked up and smiled at her
in a way that made her entire body clench. The man was sinful, in
more ways than one, and a danger to her very soul.

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat
and tried to ignore all that flesh he seemed so determined to show
her. It didn’t work.

* * * *

He had to get away from her. Colt closed his
eyes when she shifted again. Her breasts pressed against his back
was pure torture. Her hands were like branding irons where they sat
against his hips and he’d be damned if he had to endure one more
minute of her breathing on the back of his neck. His cock was
already so hard it hurt to breathe and having her so close was
agony.

Reining the horse to a stop, he threw his leg
over the animal’s head and jumped to the ground, walking away
without a word. Thank God they still had the forest to escape into.
He darted into the shadowed recesses and tried to will his erection
away.

They’d ridden half the morning in silence.
Good thing. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to carry on a decent
conversation with her. Her every word was felt like a living thing
against his skin. Ever since seeing her the evening before,
standing in that sorry excuse for a stream with her skirt pulled up
past her knees, his cock had been hard as a rock.