Authors: Connie Mason
“Christ!” Colt cursed, bumping his shin in the dark. He struck a match, located a lamp, and waited until the dim glow lighted his way. Automatically his steps led him to Sam’s room, a helpless feeling grinding his gut at the thought of facing an empty bed.
A muffled sob sharpened his wits and made him aware that he was not alone. As he transferred the lamp to his left hand, his right hovered close to his six-shooter. The door stood slightly ajar and he carefully nudged it open with his booted toe. Sam lay in the center of the bed, quietly sobbing. She blinked at the sudden blaze of light and stared warily at Colt, waiting for him to explode once he learned about Will.
Discovering Sam in bed where he had left her hours earlier gave Colt an unexpected jolt of pleasure that surprised as well as nettled him. No woman had ever caused him the anguish Sam had. Nor made him angrier. He had no idea what to do with her. That’s why he had left instructions allowing her to continue living on the ranch, for Colt was astute enough to realize that this was not the time to tell her he was the new owner of the Circle H. Somehow he doubted she would understand. Yet he couldn’t deny the vast sense of relief he felt upon finding she hadn’t left. What in the hell was the matter with him? He was in the midst of an assignment dealing with vicious outlaws and needed no distractions, certainly none like the feisty Samantha Howard.
“Where is Sanchez?” Colt asked, setting the lamp on the nightstand. “Why is it so dark in here? Have you eaten?”
“Sanchez is gone,” Sam replied cautiously. “He left shortly after you did.”
“You’ve been alone all this time? Damn that man! When he returns I’ll—”
“He’s not coming back.”
“I don’t believe that,” scoffed Colt. “The man is devoted to you. Why would he leave?”
Abruptly Sam changed the subject. “How long do I have before you take me to jail?”
Taken aback by her bluntness, Colt said slowly, “I haven’t decided. Though you might be interested to know I turned in the gold you stole. Mr. Logan should have it tomorrow.”
“So it was you,” Sam accused bitterly. “How did you know where it was?”
“It doesn’t matter. Reckon by now you know I found out Will is your young brother. I found out where he hid the gold, and since I’m a lawman and the robbery occurred under my nose, so to speak, I felt it my duty to retrieve it and turn it over to the sheriff. He’ll see it gets to the bank.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Sam muttered disparagingly.
“Ah, yes, I see what you mean,” Colt readily concurred. “The man’s character leaves much to be desired. By the way, your brother may as well show himself, now that I know where he’s hidin’.”
One corner of Sam’s mouth quirked upward in a satisfied smirk. “Will has gone where you won’t find him. Someplace where you can’t hurt him.”
“What makes you think I’d harm a half-grown boy?” Colt countered.
“You shot a woman, why should a young boy stop you?”
“Christ! Must you keep throwin’ that in my face? You took a calculated risk and lost. Did you send Will away with Sanchez?” he asked astutely.
“I suppose there’s no harm in admitting it. By now they’re long gone.”
“You could have trusted me to do the right thing by the lad,” Colt defended. “Contrary to what you believe, I don’t harm children.”
“It’s too late,” Sam said wearily.
Noting the pinched look around her mouth and the paleness beneath the natural golden hue of her skin, Colt decided to drop the subject for the time being. What’s done was done. Besides, he had no time to go after the boy. It was up to God and Sanchez to keep him safe for Sam.
“Have you eaten?”
“Not since morning. I’m not very hungry.”
“I’ll fix us somethin’.”
Twenty minutes later Colt pulled up a table beside the bed and shared with Sam a makeshift meal of beans, bacon, biscuits, and canned peaches. He was pleased to note she ate ravenously, consuming nearly as much as he did. Afterwards, he cleaned up and prepared to change Sam’s bandage.
“I’ll help you remove your nightgown,” Colt said with a mischievous grin as he moved the lamp closer to the bed.
“My bandage doesn’t need changing,” Sam refuted, stirring uncomfortably beneath his probing tawny eyes. Why did he make her feel like this? she wondered distractedly. Those strange golden brown eyes of his made her experience things she knew nothing about. She hated him, of course. Because of him she and Will had lost the ranch. She wished she’d never heard of a Texas Ranger named Colt Andrews. She’d rather tangle with a rattlesnake.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Colt said, his fingertips playing with the drawstring at the neck of her voluminous white nightgown.
Sam assumed a stoic facade as she felt cool air fan her flesh. Carefully Colt raised her to a sitting position and lowered the gown to her waist. Lack of strength made Sam pliable to his wishes and she submitted ungraciously to his ministrations, noting on the fringe of awareness the gentleness of his touch. When his hands lingered overlong on the rise of soft flesh, Sam inhaled sharply, drawing a reaction from Colt she was unprepared to deal with.
“You have beautiful breasts,” he shocked her by saying. “About as perfect as I’ve ever seen.”
“Why, you lowdown skunk! How dare you,” Sam gasped, groping futilely for her nightgown. “It’s bad enough I have to submit to your clumsy doctoring, but I don’t have to listen to your crude remarks. After this I’ll change my own bandage. In any event, I’m healing nicely and need no more of your vile attentions.”
“I fear you’re right,” Colt sighed with a hint of regret. “I’m a better doctor than I gave myself credit for. You’re comin’ along fine.”
Mesmerized, he watched as Sam shoved her arms into her nightgown and primly retied the drawstring beneath her chin. Slowly his eyes slid upwards to linger on her lips, struggling to resist an emotion completely foreign to him. Suddenly some force stronger than the life coursing through him made him want to kiss her, the need so urgent it bordered on pain.
Sam saw the look in Colt’s tawny eyes change from teasing interest to hot, molten desire, and could not turn away from it, nor did she want to. She felt the soft fullness of his mouth cover hers, moving slowly and sensuously, his tongue gently probing to part her lips. The feeling was so exquisite Sam was too stunned to resist. Against her will her mouth opened and his bold tongue slipped easily inside, teasing, cajoling, taking, until she threw caution to the wind and kissed him back, with all thought, all reason, falling away. He continued to kiss her in ways she could never have imagined.
When his hands moved to her breasts, stroking the soft mounds and stimulating her nipples through her nightgown with his thumbs, Sam suddenly came to her senses. With a start she realized something was happening between them that shouldn’t be. She might be a prisoner, but that didn’t give him the right to use her for his own pleasure. Breathless from his kiss, reeling from shock over her unprecedented response, Sam pulled free and struggled within the circle of Colt’s arms.
Regaining his wits, Colt reared back, staring at Sam with something akin to horror. What in the hell was the matter with him? He had no business involving himself in a situation that could adversely affect his performance in the line of duty. He had no experience with women like Samantha Howard. For all her daring and courage, she was innocent of the type of games he usually played with the opposite sex. Sex and gratification with no commitments was the code he lived by. His kind abhorred permanence and involvements that tied them down and interfered with their wild ways. Not once did Colt delve deeply into his reasons for buying the Circle H Ranch. He assumed it was to keep skunks like Vern Logan and his rather from taking what they wanted no matter who the victim. Had he bothered to examine his conscience, Colt would have been astounded to find it went far beyond anything so simple.
Y
ou’re a strange and complicated man, Colt Andrews,” Sam mused as Colt stared at her warily. You’re hard as nails, yet I’ve never felt a more tender touch when you dressed my wound. First you shoot me, then save my life just so you can send me to prison. Everything about you is a contradiction.
“Who are you really? Are you a hardbitten Texas Ranger or a caring man beneath that rough exterior? I sense in you a loneliness, a yearning, a need for…for…”
“Don’t try to analyze me, darlin’,” Colt drawled lazily, stunned by Sam’s astute summation of his character, “for you’ll find me lackin’.” How could this mere slip of a girl he hardly knew strip away the layers of carefully built reserve and unbare his soul so thoroughly? No man or woman alive had ventured past his tough veneer, and he wasn’t certain he liked the feeling.
Sam accepted Colt’s statement at face value. Besides, it mattered little what made Colt tick. What concerned her were his plans for her future—if she had one.
“Get some sleep,” Colt said gruffly. “Tomorrow you can get out of bed and move around some. I’m takin’ you into town real soon. My assignment is to rid the town of the Crowders, and I can’t do it playin’ nursemaid to a lady outlaw with no more sense than a rabbit dumb enough to get snared.”
“I expected as much,” Sam said with a defeated sigh. “I was right, you are a—”
“…Heartless bastard who’d shoot a woman, then send her to jail,” Colt finished, an amused smile crinkling the lines around his eyes. “I’ll try to live up to your high regard.”
“You have already exceeded my expectations,” Sam retorted. “Will I be allowed to take a few of my belongings with me?”
“Take anythin’, darlin’, as long as you can stuff it in a saddlebag. Goodnight, Sam.”
Bewildered, Sam stared at Colt’s departing back. After acting like a no-account polecat he did something so totally out of character it left her stunned. If only things had turned out differently. If Ranger Colt Andrews hadn’t been on that stagecoach she’d still have her ranch and Will wouldn’t be halfway to Loredo. Sam felt no remorse over stealing from Calvin Logan. If he hadn’t foreclosed on Pop’s loan she wouldn’t be in this fix now.
Of course, she could have married Vern Logan and lived a comfortable life as a banker’s wife. Perhaps she might have persuaded the elder Logan not to call in the loan and she and Vern could have lived here until Will reached his majority and took over his inheritance. But she didn’t love Vern. Though he was nice enough to her, something deep inside told her he couldn’t be trusted. Months ago she’d learned about the woman he kept at the Palace Saloon, and that hardly endeared him to her. No, marrying Vern Logan was not the answer, Sam reflected, sighing wearily as she turned over, trimmed the wick on the lamp, and finally drifted off to sleep.
Pacing restlessly in the bedroom across the hall, Colt was not so lucky. It rankled to think that this woman, a young, inexperienced one at that, could penetrate the carefully constructed wall shielding his emotions—a barrier that had taken years to erect. He had racked his brain trying to decide what to do with Sam. Since Sanchez and her foolish brother bolted, he couldn’t leave her on the ranch by herself. The Crowders might get wind of it and pay her a surprise visit. Or an Indian raiding party might come down out of the hills and attack the house. Yet placing her in Sheriff Bauer’s jail was completely out of the question now that he knew what would happen to her under the man’s dubious care.
Taking Sam to San Antonio was an alternative Colt considered. He knew Sheriff Cole well enough to know he wouldn’t harm Sam. But he had no time for a trip to San Antonio, nor the inclination to see Sam behind bars. She was just a silly little girl struggling to hang on to a ranch for the sake of her young brother and had chosen the wrong way to go about it. True, he was a Texas Ranger sworn to uphold the law, but Rangers were notorious for bending the law to fit their own purposes. The best thing to do, in Colt’s estimation, was find a suitable place for Sam to stay where she would be properly cared for.
Sam found she could easily manage her own dressing when she arose the next morning. Disdaining the accepted woman’s garb she considered too frivolous for ranch work, she donned tight buckskin trousers much like Colt wore and a plaid shirt. A pair of sturdy boots completed the outfit. Pop preferred her in dresses, but she had neither time nor inclination for fancy fripperies. Actually, Sam had no idea how seductive she looked with the tight pants hugging her round little bottom and long sleek thighs. In keeping with her no-nonsense mode of dress, she braided her long hair in a fat plait that hung down her back.
Though dressing had taxed her meager strength, Sam found it easier than she had expected. Four days in bed allowed sufficient time for recuperation, and she was able to move around with surprisingly little discomfort. Say what you want about Colt Andrews, he
was
a good doctor. As well as a complete enigma. Sam seriously doubted that any woman or man alive knew him well enough to judge his character. Something inside him forswore intimacy. A shield of iron surrounded him, a will of steel governed him, and a relentless seeking drove him. Sam pitied anyone who tangled with Colt Andrews.
Colt was already gone when Sam left her bedroom. The remnants of a makeshift breakfast still were on the kitchen table, and Sam picked listlessly at the leftovers, not really hungry. Vaguely she wondered where Colt had disappeared to so early and decided it really didn’t matter. He’d be back, and all too soon she’d be sitting behind bars. The thought was so terrifying she sat down in the nearest chair as a twinge of pain lanced through her body. Perhaps for the first time she truly realized the terrible consequences her recklessness had earned.