Morgan's Woman

'Make love to me again.'

She twisted so that she was sitting upright on top of him. Blood pounded in his head. 'Woman,' he groaned.

She moved slowly, sensually, teasing him, heating the part of him that was already throbbing with need.

He wanted to tell her that he cared about her, that he believed her, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he let his hands and willing body speak for him. Touching her, feeling her body against his filled him with hot urgency.

'Tamsin… Tamsin…'

'I'm here,' she replied. 'I'm here for you.' She slanted her mouth against his, scorching his flesh with a heated joining that left him breathless and aching.

Arching her back, she traced the outline of his nipples with her tongue, laving each one, then nipping at it until small bursts of pleasure rocketed through his veins.

'How do you want it?' he asked her. 'Quick or slow?'

She laughed softly and nibbled on his left earlobe. 'Slowly,' she teased. 'Slow and sweet.'

'Witch.'

Sweat broke out on his forehead as he fought to control his response, giving her what she'd demanded, loving her with lazy deliberate caresses. And all the while she moved sensually against him, whispering and stroking his most sensitive spots, prolonging the exquisite pleasure until nature could no longer be denied.

Later Ash fell asleep and Tamsin lay awake in his arms still trembling inwardly with an excitement she never dreamed existed. She knew that what she was feeling had to be far more than a physical attraction.

Foolish, impossible thoughts tumbled in her head. She wondered what it would be like to bear Ash's child, to grow old with him. She could almost picture the two of them sitting on a porch in California in the twilight, drinking lemonade, while their grandchildren chased lightning bugs in the garden.

Did they have fireflies on the west coast? Or was that another illusion, as far from reality as her horse farm? Ash had taken what was offered. They had not spoken of love or marriage, and she was worse than a fool if she expected more.

Her jaw tightened. Stubbornness had gotten her this far. She'd find a way to get to California, and she'd find someone like Ash to love her. She'd take her wedding vows in a church with flowers growing around the door, and she'd have her horses and her babies. Somehow… somehow she'd make her dreams come true.

Henry Steele stood by the window of his late brother's bedroom and stared at the flashes of lightning on the western horizon. A small storm had passed over earlier in the evening, dropping a little rain on the pastures. They needed more water. It had been a mild winter and a dry spring. If runoff from the mountains was less than usual, the Lazy S stood to lose livestock.

That didn't sit well with Henry, especially since he'd been left Sam's entire estate in a will made years before Sam and Sarah had married. Even if he decided to sell the ranch and move to St. Louis as Sarah wanted him to, drought would bring the asking price of the land way down.

Throwing a robe over his naked torso, Henry walked quietly out into the hallway, taking care not to wake Sarah. The next door led to another bedroom and beyond that a parlor that had also served as Sam's ranch office. He went in, struck a match, and lit the painted globe lamp on the oak desk.

A stubbed-out cigar lay discarded in an ashtray. Henry lit that from the lamp wick and rested his reading glasses on his nose. Settling onto a high-backed chair, he picked up the copy of the Rocky Mountain News and began to reread the headline story about the robbery and murders committed by Texas Jack Cannon and his gang of cutthroats. He'd gotten to the second page when he heard the door creak and glanced up.

Sarah stood in the doorway wearing a white linen gown with a high neck and long embroidered sleeves. 'It's late, Henry,' she said. 'Why are you up?'

'I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry, did I disturb you when I got up?'

'Haven't you read enough about those awful outlaws?' She came to him and put her arms around his neck. 'I can't sleep alone. I keep having nightmares about Sam… about his death.'

'You must think of your health, dear… yours and our son's. You'll catch your death of cold walking around the house in bare feet.'

'I hate this house. I hate the ugly floors and the brown walls. When are you going to take me away, Henry? You promised.'

He patted her back. 'I didn't promise, Sarah. I said I'd think about it. This ranch is a profitable business. If we do sell, and I say 'if,' it will take time to find the right buyer.'

'I know it's crazy, but when I got up, I forgot that he was dead. He used to come in here at night and work on his accounts.' She shuddered. 'I smelled the cigar smoke, and I thought…'

'You thought I was Sam.'

'Yes, no…' She sighed and turned away to stare out the window. 'I'm glad he left the ranch to you, Henry. He lied to me about it. He did. He told me that he'd changed his will two years ago, that he'd made me his beneficiary. But I don't care. I never wanted any of it. I hate cows. They're smelly, horrible beasts. I need to be around people and shops. My own church. Parties and socials. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've been to a dance?'

'Sam loved this ranch. All the more reason to be cautious with its disposal. I don't know why my brother didn't leave everything to you, but that doesn't matter, my dear. It will be ours, whether we sell or keep it. Fifty-fifty, a legacy for our child.'

She lifted a lace handkerchief to her mouth. 'Our child will never set foot on this land if I have anything to say about it.' She twisted the bit of cloth. 'Take me away, please. I can't stand it here. I won't stay here.'

'You were happy here once.'

'No.' She shook her head. 'Never. I was never happy here.' She turned and looked at him. 'I knew I'd made a mistake from the first days of our marriage. Sam changed after the wedding.'

Henry scoffed. 'Sam didn't change. He was always a son of a bitch. He was good at covering it, when he wanted to.'

'If you won't come with me, I'll go to St. Louis alone. I want to have my confinement there.'

'Not yet,' he said firmly, crossing the room to take her in his arms. 'As soon as Morgan brings back the MacGreggor woman, as soon as she's tried and found guilty, then we'll go.'

'Can't you forget her?' Sarah demanded. 'Can't you just let it go?'

'It will follow us. We need to close this part of our lives first. Then I'll take you wherever you want to go. And we'll be married as soon as a decent interval has passed.'

'You swear it, Henry. You promise?'

'Absolutely, Sarah. As soon as Tamsin MacGreggor hangs for my brother's murder, we'll leave Sweetwater together.'

'All right,' she agreed. 'I'll wait a little while longer. But if your bounty hunter doesn't find her, then I'm going. Do you understand? I will not have our baby born here in the shadow of Sam's ghost.'

'We'll go as soon as the matter is settled, Sarah. We owe that much to my brother. You know what the Bible says: 'An eye for a eye.' We can't let the guilty woman go unpunished.'

'You're right, I suppose,' she murmured. But her eyes glistened in the lamplight, and a single tear rolled down her pale cheek.

Chapter 17

Gunfire blasted through the heavy night fog as a crowd of shouting, howling men and women stormed the Sweet-water jail. 'Bring her out!' Judge Steele shouted as he edged his horse to the head of the throng. 'Bring out the murdering back shooter!'

'Hang her!' shrieked a slovenly saloon wench waving a torch.

'Yes!' cried the black-veiled widow from the seat of a buggy. 'She murdered my husband! Give her