The Half-Breed's Woman Read online

  “You let me worry about that, Callie. I’m used to taking care of myself. I’ll take care of you, too.”

  “But Blocker—”

  “He’ll die, sooner or later,” Jax assured her in a hard voice. “I already owe him that, anyway, for thirteen years ago. It just happens he’ll get what’s coming to him while I’m protecting you.” He hesitated, then went on slowly. “There are at least three other men in Blocker’s gang that we need to keep an eye out for. It may get rough, but you’re safe with me.”

  “What about—about us, Jax?” The question had been trying to ask itself for several minutes, Callie realized.

  Jax seemed to be expecting it, though. He shook his head. “Let’s worry about one thing at a time. Once we get to Amarillo, we’ll talk about us. But for now, I’ve gotta focus on this business of keeping you alive.”

  Chapter 14

  Morning brought a gusty north wind and the smell of impending snow. Callie dressed in her only gown with a shiver, buttoning the front of it quickly. It was becoming well-worn, she noted, as she broke off a raveling thread.

  Jax came up behind her, kissing her neck, and she shivered again. He draped his coat around her shoulders. “You’ll need this today.”

  Callie turned to look at him. “I’ll be perfectly fine inside the stagecoach. You wear it. You’ll have no protection otherwise, out on horseback.”

  “When we get to Amarillo, I’m going to buy you a wardrobe,” he told her, bending to kiss her mouth.

  She nibbled playfully at his lower lip. “I’ll settle for your groundsheet to wrap up in—with you in it.”

  “Mm.” He gave her a hot, lingering kiss. His hands molded her bottom, pulling her close to his bulging arousal. “You can share my groundsheet anytime, Miss Buchanan.”

  She grinned at his teasing. “I’d love that, Marshal, but unfortunately, Tildy Rienholdt might have me tarred and feathered.”

  Jax trailed kisses down her neck. “The hell with her,” he muttered. “Besides, I didn’t say what kind of wardrobe I was planning to buy for you.”

  Callie gasped as her stomach clenched. “Wh-What kind?” she managed to ask.

  Jax met her eyes and chuckled. “Men’s shirts. You looked particularly fetching in mine that night in Fort Smith.” He put his mouth to hers once more. “Can’t get it out of my mind.”

  Callie sighed, threading her fingers through his midnight hair. She touched her tongue to his, and he groaned. After a moment, he lifted his head. “This’ll keep you warm for the day,” he teased. “Memories that would scorch coffee—until the real thing…tonight.”

  Callie boldly reached to cup his hard shaft, rubbing him through the denim. He drew his breath in sharply, lowering his head to watch her hand moving over him, his eyes smoky through thick lashes.

  “Tonight,” he promised in a husky voice. He reached for her fingers to stop her as she began to unbutton the shirt he’d just put on. “Tonight, you’ll need to take care of that for me.”

  She looked up at him wickedly. “Maybe you better be more…detailed about what you expect from me, Marshal,” she said, reminding him of his words to her the night before. “Tell me what we’re going to do.”

  Jax raised her left hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “I haven’t got time right now, Callie. Let’s just say…you’re going to kiss it, and make it better.”

  At her shocked gasp, he smiled and reached for the doorknob. “Now that thought should keep you—hot—today, Miss Buchanan.”

  Callie recovered quickly, reaching for him before he could completely open it. The sharp excitement that stabbed through her at his words pooled in the pit of her belly and spread out warmly into her most private place. She pulled him to her, and put her mouth to his, nudging the door closed behind them. Her tongue played across his even, white teeth, then licked at the contours of his lips. She drew his bottom lip into her mouth, and he gave an involuntary sigh of pure pleasure. She felt him tense with raw sexual energy.

  “Like that, Marshal?” she whispered softly.

  Jax leaned back against the door, eyes closed, his rigid manhood threatening to burst free of the tight-fitting Levis. His breath came harsh and ragged. “Jesus, Callie.”

  Callie tried to steady her own breathing, but she knew she could not veil the desire in her eyes.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. Just like that.”

  Callie’s hand strayed to caress him through the denim. His breath hissed inward sharply as he watched her through half-lidded eyes. She began to unbutton his fly. He made a grab for her hands, but she pushed his fingers away.

  “Callie—we don’t—have time—”

  Her mouth came across his again, and she felt him swallow his protest. “How can we not have time for this?” she murmured between kisses. “Let’s make time.”

  “God…” He leaned back putting his back against the wall for support. “The whole damn day wouldn’t be enough.” He groaned low in his throat, but in pleasure—not protest.

  He locked his fingers in her hair and took control of the tantalizing kiss. She put her hands inside his shirt, gently caressing his warm skin again, his hard, throbbing maleness pressed into the soft material of her gown. He sighed into her mouth, their breath coming together, and her lips curved in a faint smile of satisfaction. There was no mistaking the hot leap of want in the midnight depths of his eyes, and she knew he was seeing the same desire in hers. She made no effort to disguise it.

  “Now, Jaxson McCall,” she murmured as she finally drew away, “let’s see which of us can best stand the smell of scorched coffee today—until we stop for the night…and finish this.”

  Chapter 15

  Jax had an uneasy feeling as he rode ahead of the coach, and he knew to trust it. That prickle between his shoulder blades had saved his life on countless occasions before—he would not disregard it now.

  He put thoughts of Callie firmly out of his mind, trying to keep a clear head as he rode. Letting his mind drift could be fatal. But it was hard not to think about the bold way she had shut the door and put her arms around him, meeting his mouth with her own.

  The sweet taste and feel of her, yielding and warm in his arms as she teased his mouth with her kiss. It had taken all of his self-control to keep from carrying her back to bed and making love to her again. That brought a flood of memories of the way she’d given herself to him in the night. She had been inexperienced, but her willingness more than made up for her experimental love play. And by the morning light, she knew just what pleased him most. His groin tightened. He was hot for her, all over again.

  A faint smile touched his lips. There would be more of the same tonight—if it ever came. First, they had to endure the interminably long day, apart. Glancing at the sky, he noted the position of the weak streams of sunlight that broke through the clouds. It was time to give the travelers a chance to stretch their legs. He rode back to the stage.

  Trey drew up the team and nodded. “Down beside the creek, yonder. That’s where we usually try to stop, depending on how we’re runnin’. We’re a little behind schedule, but we’ll take our lunch there anyway. Try to make up our time this afternoon.” He grinned at Jax. “I tell ya, I’m breathin’ a lot easier the closer we get to Fort Elliot.”

  Jax made no reply as he turned his horse back the way he’d come. He wished he could say he felt the same way, but the uneasiness that had been with him all morning was still as strong as ever.

  They were being watched. He knew it as surely as if— But, of course, he couldn’t see them. Only feel them. They were there, all the same. Blocker and his men? Apaches? He wasn’t sure. Yesterday, he’d seen another ghost from his past in the Apache camp. Crooked Elk had been Blocker’s right-hand man all those years ago. When their eyes had met for a brief moment, it had been all Jax could do to keep his face impassive, to ignore him, and ride away.

  And he hadn’t told Callie.

  Absently, he put his hand to the wound at his side. It was deep, as Dolly h
ad said. He could feel the bruising the knife had made when it had gone in. But he wasn’t worried about it. The cut was troublesome in that it was a nagging, constant hurt, exacerbated by the jarring motion of being on horseback, but he’d gotten the bleeding stopped quick enough.

  At the creek, Jax dismounted and waited for the stage, ground-pegging his horse nearby. He scanned the foliage for any sign of the followers, but there was none.

  The stage rolled up and came to a stop. Trey and Sam helped the passengers down as MayBell spread out the checkered cloth containing their lunch provisions, and they all began to help themselves.

  Jax stood apart from the rest, and after a few minutes, Callie came to stand beside him, bringing him some meat and bread. She offered it to him silently, and he took it.

  “What’s wrong, Jax?” she asked after a few moments.

  Jax shook his head. “Noth—”

  “Don’t. Don’t lie to me, please,” she said in a low voice. Her caramel eyes held his, and he couldn’t look away. “I-I know there’s something,” she continued. “You’re worried. You don’t have to keep it from me—whatever it is.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked past her, over her shoulder. “Trouble is, I don’t know what it is yet. I just know there’s something out there I—don’t trust.”

  “Indians, do you think?”

  He was silent a moment, then, “Something.”

  Callie glanced over to where the others were finishing up, MayBell wrapping the cloth around the lunch remains. “Mr. Newell told us it would be a very short lunch, so I guess…I should go.” She turned back to him and squeezed his arm. “Jax? You—you will be careful, won’t you?”

  He raised a brow sardonically. “Why, Miss Buchanan, you sound as if you might truly harbor some feeling for me. Could this be?”

  Callie’s fingers tightened once more on his sleeve and she met his gaze unflinchingly. “I gave you—the only thing I had of any value, Jaxson,” she reminded him quietly. “My virtue. You asked me if I was sure that I wanted you to—to be the one. Do you remember?”

  He nodded, then looked away. When he spoke, his voice was raspy, hoarse with emotion. “Oh, yeah, sweetheart. I…remember.”

  “And, do you remember what I said?”

  “Yeah. That you were. It sounded like you meant it, Callie.”

  “I did mean it.” She looked at the ground. “I wouldn’t have given myself to you…if I didn’t care.” She raised her eyes to his once more.

  There were any number of things he might have said to her, but now was not the time nor the place. Her simple words speared through him, piercing his heart as effectively as an Apache lance. If he responded to her with words of commitment, it might well be a promise he couldn’t keep, or one she was not interested in. “Caring” for someone didn’t equate with loving someone, and this odyssey of theirs was going to end in Amarillo. Hopefully, by then Blocker would have made his move, enabling Jax to dispense with him. As a Federal Deputy Marshal, it was his job to protect Callie. His prisoner, he reminded himself.

  Her eyes searched his for an instant before she turned away from him. Jax reached for the reins, leading his mount away from the creek, back toward the stage where the others stood waiting.

  He stopped suddenly, listening. Running horses, maybe forty or fifty. They were shod, which could only mean pony soldiers.

  Trey had opened the door for the passengers. He looked at Jax, cocking his head. “Cavalry.”

  Far off in the distance, they could see a cloud of red dust, steadily growing as the riders drew near.

  Jax led his horse up the few remaining feet to where the others stood, but Callie did not join him, choosing to stand where she was beside the reverend and his wife. Jax glanced at her, but she never looked his way, pretending instead that he wasn’t there. He’d hurt her, he knew, by the way she avoided even looking at him.

  The soldiers slowed a few yards away from the stagecoach as their captain raised his gloved hand, giving the signal for them to stop. He and his lieutenant rode forward to where the travelers stood beside the stage.

  He inclined his head gravely at Jax, noting the silver gleam of the badge under Jax’s open coat.

  “Marshal.”

  “Captain,” Jax responded. “Lieutenant.”

  “Trouble here?” The captain asked, his eyes searching the creek bank behind Jax.

  “Not that you can see,” Jax said with a smile. “More of a…gut feeling.”

  The captain nodded in agreement.

  “We’d just stopped to eat and rest the horses,” Jax told him. The lieutenant fidgeted and looked away. “Something we need to know, Captain?”

  The soldier nodded. “I won’t mince words with you, Marshal. The last stage—didn’t make it through. By the time we found them, Blue Feather and his band had murdered them and mutilated them beyond recognition. Beyond knowing they’d once been human.” He glanced at Trey and Sam. “When your stage was late, the station sent a rider to the fort. We came looking for you.”

  “Our apologies, Captain. We laid over at the last station,” Jax said. “We met up with Blue Feather and his men, too. Decided to call it an early day and stay at Dolly Ames’s place last night rather than try to push on to Bob and Marney’s after dark.”

  The captain swore. Then, “How did you escape Blue Feather?”

  Jax grinned. “Fought him.”

  “Fought him!”

  Jax held up his bandaged left hand. “That’s right.”

  “Blood brothers, huh?” the captain sneered.

  “Alive, Captain. Along with all the others. That’s what matters.” Jaxson’s voice turned deadly, his harsh glare skewering the other man. “No matter how it’s accomplished.”

  After a tense moment, the captain looked away. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Marshal…please forgive my rudeness. After burying those people yesterday—we were…afraid—”

  “Forget it, Captain,” Jax said quietly. “I understand. We’ve had a hell of a time ourselves.”

  The captain nodded, his gaze wandering to the other passengers. Trey’s hand rested on the door handle, and Sam sat in the driver’s seat, his shotgun pointed toward the cavalry captain’s chest. The captain studied them for a long moment, his eyes moving carefully over each of the travelers in turn.

  Jax watched him, noticing the odd way he seemed to commit them to memory.

  “Captain? Something wrong?”

  “Sorry, Marshal.” He shook his head. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

  But Jax didn’t think that was it at all. What, then? Hell, maybe he was getting punchy himself. Tired from lack of sleep and the long days—

  The captain leaned forward and extended his hand. “I’m Alan Tolbert, and this is my lieutenant, Joshua Adams. We’ll accompany you to the next station, and, if you like, on into Fort Elliot. The station is only five miles from the fort. It’s your choice, but we’d welcome you as our guests. We don’t get as many visitors as the station owners do, of course.”

  “Thanks, Captain. We’d be honored.” Jax knew they’d all sleep better in the confines of the fort, free from the worry of attack.

  Tolbert smiled faintly. “Good then. We’d best be underway. I’ll send a couple of the men on ahead to tell Bob and Marney Carlton you’re close so they can have your fresh team ready.”

  “We appreciate it.”

  ****

  By the time the entourage reached the fort, full darkness had fallen. Callie wanted nothing more than to sleep, to lie in a bed that was not moving. She was tired of the constant swaying and jolting of the stagecoach.

  The garrison stocked beeves to supplement their other rations. They had butchered one in honor of their guests, and the captain produced a fine bottle of cognac from his personal stock.

  The fresh steaks looked as good as they smelled, and Callie’s stomach rumbled. She was suddenly aware of her hunger, and watched with a grim smile as Tildy Rienholdt fell upon the meat as if she hadn’t had
a meal in a week.

  As the meal progressed, Callie noticed that Captain Tolbert’s eyes seemed to rest upon her speculatively from time to time. When she met Jax’s dark gaze, she realized that he had noticed it as well. Did he blame her for encouraging the soldier’s attention, she wondered? Or had he merely noted Tolbert’s bold interest and wondered about it, as she did? To all the others, Jax’s look would seem affably polite; but Callie had marked the subtle change in his obsidian eyes when they rested on her.

  She didn’t care, she told herself, exasperated with him. She had not encouraged Captain Tolbert’s attentions, in any way, and she would tell Jax so as soon as they were alone together. She stifled a yawn, replete after the excellent meal.

  After a few minutes of polite conversation, Tildy and MayBell rose and made their excuses, going to their quarters.

  Cara Manley nodded at Callie, and there was no doubt what the older woman was thinking. Callie caught her lower lip in her teeth. She was tired, she thought crossly to herself, whether she was with child—or not.

  “I think both Callie and I should like to retire as well, Captain,” Cara said politely. “We have had a very eventful journey since leaving Fort Smith, and these last days have taken their toll.”

  “Certainly, Mrs. Manley,” the captain replied. “That’s quite understandable.”

  “I’ll be along shortly, my dear,” the reverend told his wife, and she bent to kiss his cheek as she passed by his chair.

  “Would you like an escort—” the captain began, rising, but Cara waved him off.

  “No, Captain, of course not. You men sit and enjoy your visit.” She looped her arm through Callie’s. “Come, dear.”

  Callie cast a glance at Jax, but his expression was unreadable.

  ****

  After the women had gone, Captain Tolbert leaned back in his chair and gave Jaxson a long, measuring look as he lit a cigar.

  “Marshal, I’ll come straight to the point. I need your help, and I need it badly. This latest rash of uprisings with Blue Feather—it seems we’re always one step behind him.” He shook his head. “It’s almost as if he’s taunting us.”