The Outlaws: Jess (9 page)

Zach stiffened and his eyes narrowed with
outrage. "Why would I do a thing like that? I want only the best
for Meggie. Nothing but marriage will do for her. You're a damn
fool to think she'd become your mistress after I'm gone."

"I don't think anything at all," Jess said,
pretending a calm he didn't feel.

Jess was ready to blow. Only Zach's
precarious state of health prevented him from doing so. How could
Zach speak so casually about the woman he loved, a woman who loved
him? This whole impossible conversation was beyond his
understanding. There was only one answer he could give.

"Sorry, Zach. Taking a wife at this time
isn't feasible. You'd be doing both yourself and Meg a favor if you
divorced your wife and married Meg before your health
deteriorates."

Zach sent him a puzzled look. "That wouldn't
be right. Meg needs a young man, one who can do right by her."

"You should have realized that a long time
ago," Jess chided in a voice ripe with disapproval. "I'm not
changing my mind, Zach. A wife is the last thing I need right
now."

"Why?" His eyes narrowed. "Meg thinks you're
running from the law. Is she right? You don't look like an outlaw,
but life taught me not to judge a book by its cover. Are you a
wanted man, Jess?"

Jess's gaze slid away. "A man's privacy
should be respected. Suffice it to say, taking a wife isn't in my
plans at the present time. I suggest you quit trying to foist her
off on the first young man who meets your requirements and marry
her yourself."

"Damn young fool," Zach muttered beneath his
breath.

Jess pretended not to hear. "I'll leave this
bottle of pills with you. Take them whenever the pain comes on. You
can live a long time if you take care of yourself. Keep that in
mind."

Jess's angry steps carried him from Zach's
room. The man was too ill to lay into but that's exactly what Jess
felt like doing. This whole situation was abhorrent to him. He
couldn't understand how Zach could casually hand his mistress over
to another man. Demanding marriage, no less. Who did Zach think he
was, Meg's father?

Jess stormed into the kitchen, disgruntled to
find Meg waiting for him, her expression anxious. "What's wrong
with him, Jess? He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

"It's Zach's place to tell you," Jess said
shortly. He turned away.

"Dammit, Jess, Zach won't tell me anything.
But I have to know. If something serious is wrong with him, I want
to be able to help him."

"There's nothing you can do," Jess said, his
expression softening. "Don't worry, he's not in any immediate
danger."

Meg's features hardened. "Tell me, Jess, I
can take it."

Jess shook his head. "Have you never heard of
patient confidentiality? Zach asked me to keep my diagnosis
private. Were you his wife or daughter, it would be a different
matter. But as his lover, you have no rights."

Meg's rage and frustration was palpable. Jess
felt it tightening around him.

"Is that your last word, Dr. Gentry? You're
basing your decision on supposition. That's like playing God. I
deserve to know what's wrong with Zach."

Jess knew he should walk away before his
temper got the best of him. Unfortunately he waited a moment too
long. "Supposition is it? Your lover just asked me to marry you. He
says he can not longer take care of you like he should. Now who's
playing God?"

Two bright spots flamed on Meg's cheeks. Jess
could tell he'd shocked her. He should have kept his mouth shut,
but he was still incensed over Zach's outrageous suggestion. When
he decided to marry it wouldn't be because a dying man wanted to
make sure his mistress was in good hands after his demise. Not only
was it embarrassing, but downright insulting to both him and
Meg.

"I can't believe Zach would do such a thing,"
Meg choked out. "He knows better than anyone that I don't want a
husband. I'm perfectly happy seeing to Zach's needs."

"Zach shouldn't be...exerting himself. He
can't be a real...lover to you anymore," Jess said, choosing his
words carefully. "You're a young woman. Can you settle for
that?"

Meg's chin rose pugnaciously. "You don't know
a damn thing, Jess Gentry. If you don't know by now that Zach and I
are... Oh, what's the use. I don't care what you think."

Jess grasped Meg's wrist and pulled her
against him. "You're a challenge, Meg Lincoln, and I like
challenges. There's an innocence about you that I can't quite
figure out. On the other hand, you can be a tempting seductress.
I've tasted your mouth, felt it cling to mine, begging for my
kisses. Like now. Those pouty lips are irresistible. Did you know
your eyes glow when you're angry? You're an enigma, Meg Lincoln. It
would take a lifetime to learn all your secrets."

"Let me go."

"Was it your idea to marry me, Meg?"

"You're dreaming."

Maybe you put the idea in Zach's head."

"You're mad. So is Zach for suggesting such
an outrageous thing. I wouldn't have you if you were the last man
on earth."

"Don't worry, I'd refuse."

"Fine."

Still he held her. She felt so damn good he
couldn't let her go. He wanted to kiss her. No, he had to kiss her.
Needed to kiss her. He did, full upon the mouth, his lips slanting
over hers until her mouth opened beneath his. His tongue slipped
inside. He moaned softly into her mouth. She tasted sweeter than he
remembered.

He kissed her until her lips softened beneath his,
until her body melted against him, until he felt her tremble. His
hands roamed down her back, to her curvy hips, pulling them against
his hardening loins, making her aware of his arousal. He had no
idea why, but he wanted her to feel him, to know how a potent man
would react to a desirable young woman. Meg could deny it till
doomsday, but she wasn't as opposed to him as she'd like him to
believe.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest when he heard
her moan his name. Meg said she wouldn't have him if he were the
last man on earth. He had just made a liar of her. He was
experienced enough to know when a woman wanted a man.

The kiss took on a life of its own. Jess
couldn't seem to stop kissing Meg. She tasted delicious, her lips
lush and full beneath his. He slanted his mouth over hers,
gathering her completely into his arms, aware of how very fragile
she was beneath her veneer of prickly independence. He felt his
loins harden and brought her closer against him. Had he dared he
would have cleared the table of dishes, pushed her down on the hard
surface and thrust himself into her. He wanted to ride her hard,
ride her until they were both sated.

Long minutes passed before Jess realized the
sound thrumming in his ears wasn't the pounding of his heart.
Someone behind him was clearing his throat. With marked reluctance
Jess broke off the kiss and backed away.

"Am I interrupting?" Zach asked, pinning Jess
with a hard, probing gaze.

"Your timing couldn't have been better," Jess
said, grateful for the intrusion. Another minute and he would have
taken her on the kitchen table and propriety be damned. Zach's
appearance saved him from making a fool of himself.

He glanced at Meg. Speech seemed to have
deserted her. She was staring at him, her eyes wide, the fingers of
one hand splayed over her lips.

"Have you changed your mind about what we
talked about?" Zach asked, glancing from Meg to Jess.

Meg suddenly found her voice. "No, he hasn't.
I don't know what possessed you to even suggest such a thing, Zach
Purdee. Men," she said, her voice ripe with disgust.

"I could have sworn you were kissing Jess
when I walked into the kitchen just now," Zach said.

"Most certainly not! Jess was kissing me.
There's a difference."

Suddenly Jess felt as if his world was
skittering out of control. And all because of a female bounty
hunter who hadn't the sense to stay home and be a woman. He
couldn't recall when a woman had set him on his ear like Meg
Lincoln. She was unique and special, a woman who followed her own
rules. He had to forget her. If he knew what was good for him, he
would walk away and never look back.

He was a wanted man. Meg already had a lover.
He didn't need a woman in his life right now. She didn't want
anyone but Zach. There were countless reasons why he and Meg should
steer clear of one another, every one of them valid.

"I'll be leaving within the hour," Jess
announced. "I've done all I can here. Meg is nearly back to normal
and I've given Zach my professional opinion of his condition and
the medication I had on hand to treat it."

"You're leaving?" Zach didn't seem at all
pleased and that puzzled Jess.

"I think it's best."

"Where will you go?"

"Somehow I'm going to scrape up enough money
to open an office in town."

"I'd like to help, Doc, but me and Meggie are
a little short ourselves."

"I'll manage," Jess said. "Take care of
yourself. You, too, Meg. I'll stop by in a few days to see how
you're doing."

"No need," Meg said. "I'm perfectly fine, and
quite capable of taking care of Zach."

"Aw, Meggie, I don't need no one to take care
of me. There's a heap of life left in me yet."

"Well, then, I reckon I'll say good-bye,"
Jess said. "It will only take me a few minutes to gather my
things."

Zach stuck out his hand. "I hate to see you
go. It's been a real pleasure, Doc. Come back any time. Me and
Meggie will be glad to see you, won't we Meggie?"

"The man who saved my life will always be
welcome here," Meg said.

"Think over my proposal, Doc. It's still
open."

"Zach!" Meg rounded on him. "I know what you
did and I'm not pleased. We'll discuss this later, when we're
alone."

Jess made a hasty exit while Meg and Zach
were bickering. He found the subject revolting. He could understand
Zach's need to provide for his lover after his demise, but to offer
her to the first likely man to come along was reprehensible.
Besides, Zach still had many good years left if he took care of
himself.

No one was on hand when Jess rode away. It
was better that way, he thought. He couldn't look at Meg without
remembering that last kiss and how it had affected him. Damn, he
wondered if Rafe and Sam were more knowledgeable about women than
he was. Rafe was resourceful, he wouldn't let himself become
romantically involved, Jess decided. It was Sam he worried about.
Impulsive Sam would probably fall head over heels for a dozen women
and discard each one by the time they met in Denver next year.

Jess rode down Cheyenne's main street, his
body tense as he searched the fences and posts for wanted posters
bearing bad drawings of the Gentry brothers. The streets were a
seething mass of men and women from all walks of life.
Fancy-dressed gamblers, railroad workers, farmers, ranchers,
shifty-eyed criminal types, whores looking for a quick two bits,
and a few decently dressed women and children.

Jess dismounted in front of the Whistle Stop
saloon and tied his horse to the hitching post. It had been far too
long since he'd tasted a beer or felt a shot of whisky slide down
his throat. The way he felt now, he could drink the saloon dry.
Drowning himself in alcohol seemed a pleasant way to forget how
damn good Meg felt in his arms, how she had melted against him and
opened up to his kiss. God, he wanted her.

Jess walked into the saloon and bellied up to
the bar. Several men eyed him curiously but quickly turned away
when they saw he presented no threat. Jess reached into his pocket,
found a silver dollar, slapped it on the bar, and asked for whisky.
From the way he acted, no one would have guessed it was the last
dollar he owned. The bartender placed a glass and a bottle in front
of him. Jess nodded his thanks, picked up the glass and bottle, and
wandered over to a table.

The whisky slid down his throat smooth and
warm. Two tables away five men were engaged in a poker game. Jess
stretched his long legs in front of him, sipped his whisky and
watched the players. Jess had always handled himself well at poker.
He couldn't count the times he and his brothers had ridden into
Dodge when they needed money and won enough at the tables to
satisfy their immediate needs. He didn't like to brag, but he was
better at it than Rafe, though not quite as good as Sam, who took
to the game like a duck to water.

The stakes grew larger and the men became
more reckless with their betting. Jess concentrated on each man's
face, watching attentively as they played their hand. After a few
hands, he discovered he could correctly read each player's hands by
watching their expressions. A plan began to form in his mind. He
had nowhere to go, no money, and virtually no hope of practicing
medicine without money to set up an office. He was desperate enough
to try anything, and that game looked damn inviting.

Jess reached into his vest pocket and
withdrew the solid gold pocketwatch that had once belonged to his
father. There had been time to do little more than stuff a memento
or two in their pockets when he and his brothers had fled from
their farm with the posse on their heels. Rafe had taken their
mother's wedding ring, Sam had selected their father's gold
cufflinks, and he had chosen the watch.

Jess dangled the watch by its gold fob. Could
he do it? Should he lose he'd have nothing; no watch, no money.
Just his medical bag and the few instruments it contained. Was it
worth it? Maybe he should find a job and save against the day he'd
have enough to open his practice.

It could take him forever and he didn't have
forever.

Jess wasn't even aware he had risen from his
chair and approached the poker table until he was standing beside
it.