“I felt something, sure. You felt it too when we rode in, remember. But you don’t trust your feelings, and I do.” Nichole rubbed her elbow. “I wasn’t sure anything would happen, but I wanted to stay and find out. I could have been wrong and you needed to doctor Franky.”
“You could have also gotten yourself killed. What if there had been four raiders?” Adam questioned. “You could be the one wrapped in that quilt back at camp.”
Nichole looked up in surprise. “Is that what you’re so all-fired mad about? I could have gotten killed by a few tough riders who think they’re mean? I could have taken all three of those drifters on at the same time. Not one of them had a chance of getting within ten feet of me and my not knowing. Surely you weren’t worried about me?”
Adam pulled off his hat and rubbed his scalp. “Yes,” he started, realizing he’d insulted her pride. “No,” he changed. “Oh, shut up. I don’t even want to talk to you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk to you either!” Nichole snapped. “I save your brother and you go crazy on me. So much for good deeds. And as for dying, I’ve spent most of my days with Death riding shotgun everywhere I go. Why should last night have been any different?”
“You didn’t save Wes to do me any favors. I saw the two of you at the stream. I saw the way he kissed you, and you didn’t look like you were fighting.” Adam was so angry all the control he’d spent a lifetime accumulating vaporized. “Tell me, was he a gentleman while he held you, or was he more to your wild liking?”
She swung before he had time to block, delivering not a feminine slap, but a full-blown slug knocking Adam off his feet.
Adam, flat on his back, stared at the sun as he felt his jaw.
She moved above him. “Get up!” she shouted. “I want to hit you again.”
He rose to one knee before she did what she wanted, sending him rolling across the grass with another punch.
“Stop it!” he yelled as he stood.
“No,” she answered. “You want a fight, then fight like a man.”
“No.” He watched her closely, guessing he’d be counting his teeth in his hand if he didn’t stop her. “You’re not a man.”
Nichole took a step toward him. “I’m not a woman to you either. What am I, Doc? I’m not woman enough for you to bed, or man enough for you to fight. You don’t want me. So get out of my life.” Her voice lowered slightly. “When I’m around you, I don’t know who ‘me’ is anymore.”
He turned his back, unable to look at her any longer. If she thought he was confusing her, it was nothing compared to how greatly he was disturbing himself. She was about as practical for him as indoor rain, but he still wanted her so badly he felt he’d die without her near.
She came closer but continued to shout as if he were having trouble hearing as well as thinking. “I thought I was helping you last night by saving Wes. I thought finally I’d do something right. Wes isn’t just your brother, he’s my friend. And so what if he kissed me? It’s something you’d never do in the broad daylight.”
Before she could react, he twisted around and grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides. The quick action sent them both tumbling to the grass. They rolled for several turns, and he held her closer with each twist.
A low roar seemed to echo through him as all the calmness snapped inside him.
When they stopped rolling, he was on top of her. She struggled, knowing that she could reach her knife easily, but unsure how badly she wanted to win this battle.
“I don’t care,” he said the words with such anger it frightened her.
She tried to push him away. “You’re mad!”
“I don’t care if you already love Wes,” he whispered into her hair. “I will kiss you in the light.” His mouth closed down on hers with bruising force.
The kiss was wild and hungry. She tried to push away, but he held her tightly as his mouth imprisoned all cries. He pressed his body against her, letting her feel the weight of him and his need for her. His hands moved from her arms to her hair, plowing his fingers deep into her curls, knotting her hair around his fists, demanding a kiss that had always been his for the asking.
She felt the world spinning around her, but she didn’t move as he continued to kiss her. Her arms were free, resting on the grass like a rag doll. She could push him away, but she didn’t as he rolled slightly to his side without breaking the kiss. The warm pressure of his fingers moved along her side, feeling her body with a possessive touch.
His need for her was a storm of passion and haste. He wanted to drink her in so deeply he’d never lose the taste of her. He needed to feel her so completely that his touch would linger a lifetime on her flesh. She should feel his passion and his pain as thoroughly as he felt it.
When his hand reached her Colt, he stopped suddenly and sat up, breaking the kiss so abruptly Nichole felt as though he’d taken her breath away.
“Why don’t you shoot me?” He stared away from her feeling the emptiness of the land. “Put me out of my misery. I had no right to kiss you like that, but I’ll be damned if I’ll say I’m sorry.”
She knelt behind him and gently placed her hands on his shoulders. The muscles were iron tight with only the layers of his clothes to soften them. For the first time since she’d met him, she wasn’t sure how he would react. Maybe he wasn’t a “predictable” like she thought. “I don’t love Wes,” she whispered. “And I don’t want to kill you- though you make it awfully tempting.”
His head leaned back slightly, resting on the front of her shirt. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered. “I can’t get the feel of you out of my mind… or the taste of you… the smell of you… the way you move. No amount of reason seems to matter. I want to make love to you until there is no one in the world but you and me.”
Nichole pulled away.
He didn’t say more as she slowly walked to the horses and caught the reins.
When she moved back to him, she said, “Follow me,” as though he’d asked for water. Without another word she climbed on her horse.
They rode southwest for a mile before she turned into a cluster of cottonwoods. “When I was walking, after the stage robbery, I found this place. I guessed town to be only a few more miles, but I needed to rest. So I stopped here for a while.”
She tied her horse in the trees and walked down a slope to a circle of blackberry bushes.
Adam followed. He wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but he had no plans of apologizing. The creek was high with spring rains. Water almost covered the huge roots of the trees as they reached down for a drink. The grass was already green, but most of the bushes were still blooming a golden red, making the stream look like it was banked by fire.
She pulled a carpetbag from one of the bushes. “I hid this here, hoping I’d get the chance to come back for it. I knew, dressed as a man, I’d cause talk if I walked into town with this carpetbag. Wolf had to pick out one with flowers on it.”
Adam watched her pat the bag as though it were an old friend she’d missed.
“Wolf bought this for me along with the dress the night I had to leave Tennessee. I cut the dress up for bandages when my hands were burned.” She opened the bag and pulled out a brush, a comb, and a bouquet of colorful ribbons. “The ladies I met along the way said I’d need these when my hair grew out.” Her hands brushed over the ribbons of velvet, silk, and lace. “In a few more months it’ll be long enough to tie back with one of these.”
Adam moved around the tiny clearing guessing that she was talking more to herself than to him. She’d picked a good place to hide. They’d crossed the stage tracks half a mile back, so she knew where she was and the trees offered her plenty of shelter. Suddenly, he realized Nick didn’t need him to take care of her. She could take care of herself. She always could. She’d proven it over and over. Did she have to slug him again to get him to see the truth?
He touched his jaw. She was no helpless woman, he admitted. She could have even stopped the kiss he’d given her anytime she’d wanted to. This last fact left him a little more unsettled.
“This is the only piece of my dress I have left.” She walked past him and dipped the material in the stream. “I thought it might help your lip.”
Adam stood frozen as she touched the cold rag to the corner of his mouth. A slight sting made him flinch, and she pulled away. Blood spotted her rag.
