Compromised Hearts/Kentucky Bride/Beauty Bundle

by Hannah Howell

Genres: Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Western Romance

Synopsis

Compromised Hearts Bundle Compromised Hearts In this dazzling novel from New York Times bestselling author Hannah Howell, a beauty without means and a man without scruples strike a scandalous bargain that takes them into the heart of desire. . . No gentleman would guarantee a lady's safety in exchange for her virtue. But that is precisely why Cloud Ryder would never call himself a gentleman. He wants Emily Brockinger the moment he sets eyes on her, and volunteers to guide her and her ward through lawless Colorado territory--if she'll share his bed. Yet to his surprise, the delicate Boston blueblood has a grit and fire that thrill him as no woman ever has. . . Emily has no choice but to accept Cloud's terms, and no way to control her body's response to the virile, part-Cherokee drifter. The trail is strewn with obstacles, and the dangers only increase once they reach their destination. All his life, Cloud has shunned commitment, but now the only way to keep Emily safe is to open his heart--to the one woman with the passion and power to break it. . . "The superbly talented Howell never disappoints."-- Romantic Times "The laughter mingles with the tears in any story from the talented pen of Hannah Howell. If you haven't read her before, start now!"-- Affair de Coeur Kentucky Bride Beautiful Clover Sherwood never expected such a cruel fate. Her father's death has left her penniless, ostracized from Pennsylvania society, and abandoned by her fiancé. All she has now is a grieving mother, two hungry little brothers and no prospects. . .until a wealthy Kentucky backwoodsman with a deep Scottish burr comes to town--and inspires her to make a most daring move. . . It's no secret that rugged, roughhewn Scotsman, Ballard MacGregor is ready to marry. Nonetheless, he is surprised by genteel Clover's sudden proposal. . .and more than pleased. For the lass's sweet innocence is bewitching. But settlement life proves harsh on his refined young wife. And Ballard fears that unless he can awaken her passion and win her love--as she has won his--he may lose his Kentucky bride. . . "The superbly talented Howell never disappoints." -- Romantic Times Beauty and the Beast New York Times bestselling author Hannah Howell enthralls readers with her unforgettable tales of the love between fierce knights and their passionate women, weaving her storytelling genius to give us one of her best romances yet. . . Beauty And The Beast On the eve of her wedding to the heir of Saiturn Manor, the stunningly beautiful Gytha is shocked to learn that her betrothed, a man she barely knew, is dead. Now she must marry the new heir, Thayer Saiturn, a battle-hardened knight known as the Red Devil. . . With a face scarred in battle and a heart broken in love, Thayer has no interest in marriage. But not even the Red Devil can break the promise his foster-father made years ago and soon finds himself married to a woman whose exquisite beauty and sweet innocence intrigue him. But can his new bride look beyond his scars to find a hidden passion and undying love locked deep inside him? Includes an excerpt of Hannah Howell's upcoming Highland romance Highland Savage!

Release date: November 1, 2010

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 320

Sample

Colorado Territory, 1870

“Godforsaken land,” muttered Emily Cordelia Mason Brockinger as she picked herself up and dusted herself off.

She should be thankful, she supposed, that she had fallen forward, thus not endangering the child she carried on her back. She picked up her parasol, sighing over its battered appearance. Her bonnet probably looked just as disreputable. The plains did not treat such frills and furbelows gently, but despite their tattered condition she would continue to use them. They kept the sun off of her head and she did not feel quite proper going without them.

She had already walked for two days but had yet to see any sign of civilization. She could not believe that the territory could be quite so empty. Then again, the Indians could well have something to do with the emptiness.

A shudder rippled through her. The memory of the slaughter was still too clear. Those poor farmers had not deserved such a death. They had never harmed anyone. The Indians were extracting their revenge from the wrong people.

Emily’s penchant for cleaniness had been all that had saved her. She had noticed a small creek, and had walked some distance from camp for a bath. It had not been far enough away, however, to spare her from hearing the sounds of the massacre. She wondered if the war whoops, shots, and screams would ever fade from her memory or cease to haunt her dreams.

Returning to the smoldering wagons had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done. The smell of death still tainted her nostrils. The Indians had spared neither man nor woman. The only survivor was a child.

It would always puzzle her. There seemed no reason for three-year-old Thornton Sears’ survival. He had been walking amongst the dead. She could only assume that he had been hidden and had stayed so until the danger was past. His plump little body was unhurt, his thick brown curls still intact, and his green eyes unclouded by a horror he was probably too young to fully understand. He was alive and she prayed she could keep him that way.

The dirt on her hands from her fall began to sting her blisters. She really should not have lingered to bury the dead, although she doubted that the two days lost to that gruesome chore would make any difference in the end. During that time she had meticulously combed through the ruins, salvaging one extremely recalcitrant mule, a rickety cart, a few belongings of hers and Thornton’s and a pitiful supply of food and water. She was carefully rationing what she had, but she feared that it was not enough.

“Go home now?”

“I’m trying, darling, but I fear it is a very long way.”

Emily felt like weeping but refused to give in to that weakness. She wondered what madness had caused her to leave her Boston home, then grimaced as she recalled her reasons. At the time she had received her brother’s request to come live with him, perhaps teach school in the budding town of Lockridge, she had thought it was the answer to all her prayers.

She had thought that anything would be better than the life she led in her sister Carolynn’s home. She didn’t know which was worse—caring for Carolynn’s three spoiled children or trying to elude Carolynn’s husband. At times the man had seemed possessed of a score of hands, all trying to grab her. There had been no help from her sister. Caro thought her children were living saints, and she clearly hoped that her sister would take Caro’s place under her husband, thus relieving Caro of one wifely duty she plainly found repulsive.

Used to a life that had never been ideal, Emily had suffered stoically. Born late to Charles and Mary Brockinger, she had had little sense of family. All her siblings had been full grown, while she was an infant. It hurt to remember it, but her parents had made it abundantly clear that she was an unwanted surprise. Only Harper, she thought with a soft smile, had loved her but he had left to find his own life when she was only ten.

She touched the pocket where Harper’s letter rested. She had wasted no time in answering it. Although she had not seen Harper for eight years, his smile had always lingered in her mind as one of the few bright spots in her life. Without hesitation she had set out for Colorado.

She just wished Harper had sent some money. Carolynn had adamantly refused to let go of a single penny of her plentiful horde, so Emily had been forced to take the long, hard, dangerous route to Colorado. Until now she had not really minded that. Thirst, dust, hunger, heat, and all the hardships of travel across the country by wagon train had not deterred her. The savage deaths she had witnessed were another matter. She was no coward, but she was, after all, only a girl of nineteen who had never been outside of Boston.

Her feet hurt, her sensible shoes long since worn out from the rough terrain. Carrying Thornton was easier than letting him walk, safer than setting him on the already heavily laden mule, but her back and shoulders were now screaming out for relief. The stubborn mule added to her problems, for she often had to drag him along, and the rope had left its painful mark upon her tender palms.

Worse, she decided, was the fear she could not shake. It seeped through her veins like poison. She had little idea of where she was headed, only knowing that it was west, and that she was alone and unarmed in a territory filled with Indians. She could only keep walking, however, and hope that the Indians were far too busy to bother with one woman, one child and one very cantankerous mule.

She met the day’s end with little emotion. All she could be glad of was that she and Thornton still lived.

As she set up a small campfire, her gaze settled upon Thornton who sat quietly playing with some pebbles. Protected by his extreme youth, he had accepted his family’s loss quickly. He had only cried a little as the beginning, then switched his dependence and affection to her. Dishing out his share of the oatmeal, Emily prayed that she would not fail him. The responsibility weighed heavily upon her.

When they curled up beneath the cart to sleep, she was glad of the warmth of his sturdy little body. He was too small to be any real help but he made her feel less alone. Although she knew she ought to stay awake to keep watch, she soon fell asleep. Emily sadly admitted to herself, as she welcomed oblivion, that she had no defense against the Indians, so keeping watch seemed a fruitless exercise.

Cloud decided that nothing was more frustrating than trying to talk the major out of his plans. Newly arrived from a military school, the man had no concept of how to fight the Indians. Cloud could only hope that the man would learn his lessons without killing himself or too many of his men. He, however, had no intention of waiting around to watch.

“Off again?” drawled James Carlin as he leaned against the hitching post.

Cloud did not look up from saddling his roan stallion. “Don’t think I’ll be back this time.”

“Not even for sweet Abigail? It’s a hard man you are, Cloud Ryder.”

Looking quickly in the direction of James’s nod, Cloud grimaced. He had hoped to leave without a scene, but by the look on Abby’s face he knew that was now impossible. Despite her skill in bed, he was as anxious to leave her as he was to escape the young major’s inevitable folly. Abigail was far too possessive, expecting of him more than he had ever offered. It had been a mistake to get involved with her.

“Sweet Abigail is reason enough to leave—fast,” he muttered. “She wants to lock me up tighter than an old maid’s corset.” He did not snare in James’s soft laughter.

James studied Cloud briefly. The man’s attraction for women was a puzzle to him. A scar cut Cloud’s lean features, giving his carved face an intimidating fierceness that had caused many a man to back off. Although only one quarter Cherokee, Cloud often looked more savage then some full-blooded Indian. James could only wonder if the man’s aloofness was what drew women.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving,” Abigail said tightly as she reached Cloud’s side.

“No? Must’ve slipped my mind,” Cloud drawled as he turned to look at the well-formed brunette.

Abigail drew her breath in. She was sorely tempted to scratch out his eyes. Yet despite her anger, her blood ran hot as she looked at his tall, lean body. She hated him for that. He had toyed with her but, worse, she had lost the game.

“How can you be so cool after what we’ve shared?” She found it surprisingly easy to bring tears to her eyes.

“Honey, you were no blushing virgin and I sure as hell didn’t teach you the tricks you knew.” he said cruelly. “Don’t play the offended maid. The role doesn’t suit you.”

“You bastard,” she hissed. “You’ve made it plain to the whole fort that you spent your nights with me. Now that they all know you’ve used me for your whore, and you’re just going to up and leave me?”

“Yup.” He took her slap without flinching, but caught her wrist when she prepared to strike him a second time. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The chill in his voice made her shiver. With what few scraps of dignity she could muster, she left him. Cloud turned back to his preparations for leaving.

“One of these days you’re going to be shot by one of the women you treat so coldly.”

“No doubt. Don’t waste any of your sympathy on Abigail. She knows more tricks than a rich man’s mistress. She’ll recover and probably trap some poor fool into marrying her. I made her no promises. I break none by leaving her. She played the game well, but she’s a sore loser.”

For a moment James said nothing, but then he asked, “Am I wrong in thinking you really won’t come back?”

“Said so, didn’t I?”

“Said it before too, but you always came back.”

“Not this time. Atter the war I meant to settle. I thought I’d had enough of drifting and fighting. I was wrong. I was still itchy. Well, the itch is gone.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? A man’s got to settle sometime.”

“Just can’t see it with you. You got too much restlessness in you.”

Cloud shrugged. “Maybe. Still, it ain’t being satisfied with roaming and fighting.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Go back to my land and finally do something with it. Wolfe must be damned tired of keeping an eye on it. He’s got his own piece to look after.”

“Where is your land? You’ve described it but never said exactly where it is.”

“The San Luis Valley. If I leave now I can make it over the mountains before the snow blocks the pass. Come spring I’ll start making my spread something more than a patch of grass. Maybe I’ll even have a house by the time the Ryder clan gathers.” He mounted his horse and held his hand out to James. “Take care. Don’t go with that fool if you can help it. He’ll get you killed for sure. Damn fool’s got his head in the mud.”

“It’ll take more than that young shavetail’s ignorance to kill me.” James clasped Cloud’s hand. “Take care yourself. Hope you find what you’re searching for.”

“Never know. Look me up if you get down San Luis Valley way.”

He rode out of the fort without a backward glance. It was the end of yet another chapter in his life. He was tired of killing and destruction. Finally he was ready to stay in one place and put down roots. Maybe he would also find some peace.

That made him laugh, a harsh noise that grated on his ears. James was right. He was searching for something, but he could not say what. No matter what he did, who he met or how many miles he covered, there lingered an emptiness within him. There was a strange hunger in him that no amount of food or water could satisfy.

Cursing softly, he turned his mount southwest. It was a long way to his ranch-to-be, and he refused to spend the time worrying over something so intangible. There were enough natural and very tangible things to concern him. Distraction was something that could easily proved fatal.

When he first saw the woman as he crested a knoll, he thought her a figment of his imagination. A woman strolling through the plains with a fashionable bonnet on her head and a parasol in hand? It was a sight too ludicrous to be real, yet he could not deny the evidence of his eyes.

Riding a little closer yet staying out of her direct line of sight, he realized that the strange hump on her back was a child. Shaking his head in disbelief, he began to follow her.

As he watched her fall and pick herself up a third time, he began to laugh softly even while he admired her persistence. She was so plainly out of her element that it was funny. So was the sight of her strolling through hostile Indian territory as if she were taking a promenade in the park. The only thing that kept him from laughing was the grim reality of danger all around.

“The silly bitch can be seen for miles, Savannah,” he muttered to his horse. “Maybe it’s true that God watches out for fools, drunkards, and children. Got us two of the three just ahead. Where’s her man?”

Fascinated, he followed her as she cursed the land she stumbled over and threatened the mule with prolonged and painful retribution. Try as he would, Cloud could not figure out how she had arrived in the middle of nowhere with her child strapped to her back like some papoose. Her clothes, although tattered and dusty, still retained their fashionable air, telling him that she was no die-hard pioneer woman.

He settled himself on a knoll overlooking her campsite when she paused for the night. His reluctance either to show himself or leave her puzzled him, but he did not fight it. It had been a long time since he had been so thoroughly entertained.

It was not until the child was settled and asleep that she let her weariness show. Even from a distance, Cloud could tell how hard she fought giving in to tears.

He tensed slightly when she knelt before the fire and removed her bodice, using a little of the precious water to clean off the dust that clung to her. When she removed her camisole, he shifted restlessly, his eyes fixed hungrily upon the full pale breasts as she washed. By the time she had finished her bathing, he was aching. Then, as if to further taunt her unseen audience, she undid her hair.

“My God,” he breathed, “the Indians would kill each other for a scalp like that.”

By the light of the fire and the moon, her hair shone white. It fell in long thick waves to her slim hips. Cloud wanted to bury himself in it; his palms itched to run through its heavy length as her brush was doing. He did not think he had ever seen anything so beautiful nor so desirable despite the wide range of women he had known.

After she had lain down with the child he sat watching her for a while longer. He needed time to quell his desire before he got any closer to the woman.

Deeming himself once more in control, he decided to go down to her campsite. There was little point in setting up one of his own when hers was so close. He also wanted to dampen the fire, which might draw attention to the woman.

The mule eyed him warily as he tied Savannah to a bush, but it made no noise. After securing his pack horse and relieving the animal of its burden, he turned his attention to the sleeping pair under the cart. He was curious to see if the woman’s face was as lovely as the rest of her.

Pausing only to douse the fire, he sat down near the cart. The woman and the child slept on, unaware of him. Cloud shook his head. They were both babes in the wood, defenseless and ignorant.

Studying her face, he realized that she was very young. In fact, she hardly looked old enough to have borne the child tucked up against her. Cloud decided the boy must take after his father, for he lacked his mother’s delicacy of looks and her fairness of coloring.

Her skin cried out to be touched, its light honey-colored expanse looking as soft and smooth as silk. Faintly arched brows, several shades darker than her brilliant hair, furrowed occasionally as her dreams grew more troubled. The lashes that lay in thick arcs on her cheeks were also dark and naturally curly. A full ripe mouth was slightly parted as she slept, partially revealing straight white teeth. Her nose was the only less than perfect feature in her small oval face. It ran small and straight to the tip then suddenly turned up ever so slightly, disrupting an otherwise classical perfection.

She had left off her bodice, having rinsed it in the water that she then gave the mule, and hung it on the bush to dry. His eyes fixed upon the smooth swell of her breasts above the lacy camisole and he nearly groaned. The desire had been controlled but not vanquished.

Stretching out, he leaned against the cart wheel, placing his rifle across his lap. There would be little sleep for him until he was out of the area troubled by Indians. Senses well-honed by the war allowed him to doze yet be alert to danger. He almost wished he could sleep as blissfully as the pair beneath the cart, but he knew too well how dangerous that could be.

A sound from the young woman drew his gaze back to her and he realized that she was having a nightmare. She muttered fretfully and tears oozed from beneath her eyelids as she relived some horror in her dreams. Her restlessness caused the boy to whimper in his sleep.

“Hush, sweetheart,” he murmured as he smoothed his hand over her brow in a soothing caress.

“Harper?” she cried softly even as she settled down.

“Ssssh. There’s nothing here to trouble you. Go to sleep, little lady.”

After the pair had again settled, Cloud returned to his half-sleep, half-vigil. He wondered who Harper was and decided he was her husband. Frowning, he searched the long fingers of her small delicate hands but saw no ring. Either she had no husband or he was dead. Either way suited Cloud. He fully intended to satisfy the desire she stirred in him and a husband would only complicate matters. A small child was complication enough.

She stretched and turned, disturbing the light blanket that covered her. A smile touched his harsh features as he glimpsed her feet. They were as small and delicate as the rest of her. His smile faded quickly when he saw how her feet had suffered from the walking she had done. He was surprised she had stayed on her feet at all. Every step must have pained her, yet she had struggled on.

“Stubborn as your mule,” he muttered as he reached to tuck the blanket around her feet.

He paused, his gaze drifting up the length of slender leg exposed by her bunched-up petticoats. He moved his hand over her calf and up to where her petticoats rested high up on her silken thighs. She moved and made a soft noise that brought a satisfied smile to his face as he finally tucked the blanket back in place.

Experience told him how to read those small signs. Even in her sleep she had warmed to his touch. There was passion in her. Cloud knew it would be good and found it hard to resist the temptation to slip beneath the blanket with her immediately. Waiting would be hard, but he did not plan to wait long.

The night passed slowly. Twice more Cloud had to soothe the young woman’s troubled sleep. That she was so evidently filled with fear made her dogged progress all the more remarkable. She plainly had the strength to subdue those fears when she was awake, forcing herself to continue despite them.

When dawn lightened the sky, he washed himself and watered the mounts. He then set about relighting the small fire and preparing a breakfast of sorts. As he had hoped, the smell of coffee began to wake the sleepers.

The boy woke first, studying Cloud for a long moment before rising. With the uncanny sixth sense a child so often has, the boy sensed that he was no threat. Keeping a shy watch on him, however, the boy went to relieve himself then came to squat by him near the fire.

“Mornin',” he said finally. “I’m Thornton.”

“I’m Cloud Ryder. Hungry?” He dished out some oatmeal for the boy when he nodded.

“This is good as Mama’s.”

“Have you and your mama walked far?”

“Miles and miles. We’re going home. ‘Way from Injuns.”

“Where’s your pa?” Cloud sipped his coffee, occasionally glancing towards the still sleeping girl.

“Wiv the angels,” Thornton said calmly, repeating Emily’s explanation. “Injuns kilt him dead so the angels took him. They take dead folk, you know.”

Cloud nodded even as he mused that the angels would no doubt toss him back. He had become too hard and too many men had died at his hands. He would probably never see Heaven’s gates. And though the killing had been part of a war, he doubted that fact would save his soul.

“You and your mama are alone then?” he prompted and the boy nodded.

To Thornton, Emily was his mother. The angels had taken his other mother and left him a new one. He was blissfully ignorant of any misconception the man opposite him was forming.

“Are you going home too?” the boy asked.

“Yup. Going to set up my ranch.”

“Wiv cows?” Cloud nodded. “I fink my new home has cows.”

“Where is your new home?”

“Out dere.” Thornton pointed towards the faintly visible mountains. “Sandly’s, I fink.”

Smiling, Cloud gave up trying to get any specifics. Children of Thornton’s age were not very concerned with details.

“I fink Mama’s getting awake.”

“Mmmm, I think you’re right.”

Watching her stretch made Cloud’s loins tighten. Despite her delicate build, there was an unconscious voluptuousness to her movements. He could not wait to feel her beneath him, her lithe grace working to satisfy him.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes in a distinctly childlike gesture. When her gaze fell on the spot where Thornton had lain he saw her tense. An instant later he found himself staring appreciatively into a pair of wide, somewhat frantic jade green eyes.



After assuring herself that Thornton was alive, Emily stared at the man crouched by the fire. Her relief over Thornton’s safety rapidly vanished, and she wished desperately that she had some weapon.

When the stranger stood up, she trembled. The man was well over six feet tall. Although he was lean, she was not deceived into thinking him lacking in strength. A woman who could stretch to two inches over five feet if she wore shoes and stood on tiptoe had no chance against him.

Thick hair, the blue-black of a raven’s wing, hung to his broad shoulders; a red bandana tied around his wide forehead and knotted at the side kept it out of his eyes. A buckskin shirt hugged his muscular torso and was partly unlaced to reveal a smooth, dark chest. Dark pants disappeared into buckskin boots that hugged the bottom half of his long muscular legs.

As if his height and strength were not intimidating enough, there were the harsh lines of his face. High cheekbones and a high-bridged nose told of his Indian blood, as did the coppery tint of his dark complexion. His thin-lipped mouth was set in an unreadable straight line. The scar added a fierceness to his lean features that did nothing to ease Emily’s fears.

Swallowing her panic, she met his gaze. His eyes were a deep, rich brown ringed with amber. She had never seen such eyes. Neither had she seen eyes so lacking in expression.

“Please,” she said softly, “don’t hurt the boy.”

Cloud shook himself. He realized that she thought him an Indian and, quite naturally, had assumed the worst. He had known the harsh sting of prejudice all too often in the past.

“ ‘Bout time you woke up, ma’am. Day’s near gone.”

She closed her eyes briefly in relief. “You aren’t an Indian.”

“Well, partly. Grandmother on my father’s side was Cherokee. Coffee’s made.”

Following the direction of his gaze, she recalled her state of undress and blushed. “If you will give me but a moment’s privacy so that I might dress?”

“Reckon so,” he drawled, but took his time turning around and returning to the campfire.

After dressing and making a hasty trip to some nearby bushes, Emily tentatively approached the fire. She was not foolish enough to think herself safe simply because the man was not an Indian. From the time she had changed from a child into a woman she had known that even the most innocent-appearing of men could prove dangerous. Out here in the middle of nowhere, the danger was that much greater.

“What’s your name?” he asked, ignoring her wariness as he served her coffee.

“Emily,” she replied softly as she sat down next to Thornton.

“Emily what?” he demanded.

“Emily Cordelia Mason Brockinger,” she recited a little tartly. “And you, sir?”

Biting back a grin, he replied, “Cloud Ryder.”

She blinked. “I bee your pardon?”

“Cloud Ryder. R-y-d-e-r. Just what are you doing out here?”

“Besides walking?” she retorted dryly and saw his lips twitch. “We’re headed for the mountains.”

“'The mountains’ is a little vague.”

“The San Luis Valley.” She frowned when he laughed softly. “That’s funny?”

“Actually, I was thinking of what Thornton answered when I asked him the same question. He said ‘Sandly’s.'” He felt a tremor low in his belly when he heard her soft, husky laugh. “You’re going the wrong way,” he said.

“Nonsense,” she said in her best schoolmarm voice. “I am headed west.”

“Fair enough, but the valley’s also south by several weeks’ ride.”

Her heart sank. If it was several weeks’ ride, then it was many weeks’ walking. Somehow she had let herself believe that, if she reached the mountains, she would be fine. To hear that she would still have to travel many weeks southward was almost devastating. It was a struggle not to weep, but stiff Yankee pride kept her from showing any weakness before a stranger.

Cloud covertly watched her struggle. The way she put her small chin up amused him even while he felt a twinge of admiration. He had seen how the news had devastated her, but she was not going to let it break her. She had a strength of character he could only approve of.

“I see. So I am not even half the way there yet.”

“Depends on where you started from.” “Boston originally, but I started walking two days ago.” “Why?”

“The Indians attacked the wagon train I was with. They killed everyone.” He heard the touch of lingering horror in her voice and knew that was the incident that darkened her dreams. “Why not you or Thornton?”

“I was away from the campsite. I’m not quite sure how Thornton survived. He hasn’t really said.”

“Papa put me in a hole,” Thornton said suddenly. “He told me stay put ‘till all’s quiet and I did.”

Emily barely checked her tears. The loss of so many friends was still too fresh. She thought of how eager the young Sears couple had been, how full of plans.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Cloud said quietly. “How many were there?”

“Nearly twenty.” She gazed at her hands, still blistered from the chore of burying so many.

“So you picked up your boy and started walking west?” “Two days later, yes.” “Why’d you wait?”

“The burying took me two whole days.”

“You buried everyone?” he said softly.

She read his reaction as one of surprise. “Well, I did not dig twenty graves. I didn’t think they would mind if I put a child in with his mother or father or put loved ones together.” She shivered at the memory.

“That was a damned stupid thing to do,” he snapped, glaring at her.

Emily decided that she preferred a lack of expression in his eyes to the hard, cold anger that now lit them. “It was the Christian thing to do, sir.”

“Christian be damned. It was a fool thing to do.”

“What was I to do?” she snapped, growing angry herself. “Leave them for the carrion?”

“Damn right.” His attitude was not softened by her shock. “Listen, you fool woman, what do you think’s going to occur to those Indians if they return to that site?”

“Why should they? They cannot do any more.”

“Maybe they’ll just pass it on their way to someplace else. How the hell should I know? The point is that they’ll see those graves and know somebody survived.”

She felt the color leave her cheeks. “That will matter to them?”

“Damn right it’ll matter. It’ll set them looking for you. They don’t know it was only a fool woman and a babe. They don’t want to leave survivors, girl—not in the mood they’re in now.”

Taking a deep breath to settle the fears he was stirring up, she said, “I had to bury them.”

“Tell that to the Indians. They could be hot after you even now. Not that you’d see them coming.”

Although she knew full well that she was almost totally incompetent out here on the plains, she resented his attitude. He could take into consideration the fact that she was a city girl from the east, not a cowboy, and give her some credit for what she had accomplished. Instead, he spoke to her as if she were severely lacking in brains and good sense. She simmered with fury as he lectured her.

“Marching across the plains as if you’re on some Sunday stroll. You stick out like a sore thumb. I’m surprised you haven’t lost that hair already.”

“What am I supposed to do? Crawl to the mountains on my stomach?”

“Might be a damn good idea.”

“Stop cursing.”

“Look, you little idiot, you haven’t got the sense God gave a goose. You parade across hostile country without even trying to keep out of sight, then strip down afore a blazing fire for all to see.”

“You watched me?” she gasped, color flooding her face.

“Damn right. Show was free.”

He caught her wrist when she swung at him and tugged her towards him. Emily sprawled on his lap, staring up into his harsh face. She tried only once to sit up, found herself held firmly, and did not try again. Struggling against a man of his strength and size would only get her hurt.

Cloud studied the woman glaring up at him. Her full breasts rose and fell rapidly with the force of her anger. The thick silvery hair he so admired lay like a blanket over his legs. He gave into temptation and buried one hand in its heavy waves, finding it soft as silk.

“I followed you for hours, woman. You never took notice of me, kept no watch for trouble.”

“And just what would you suggest I do if I saw trouble coming?” she asked tartly.

“How about running for your life? Or the boy’s? Oh no, you set your pretty eyes on the mountains and trudge straight ahead with all the blind, stupid doggedness of your damned mule. You just ain’t thinking, girl.”

“I will keep your criticism in mind,” she said coolly. “Now, would you release me, please?”

“Not just yet,” he drawled, tightening his grip on her hair and urging her face toward his.

Emily’s experience with men consisted of an occasional unwanted embrace resulting in a slap or, if the swain was too ardent, a well-placed knee. She knew the danger signals, however, and could sense when a man’s thoughts turned carnal. Cloud Ryder’s had definitely turned that way. She tensed, but his grip on her hair forced her to obey his urging.

“Let me go,” she demanded coldly.

“Not just yet,” he murmured against her mouth.

She tried to keep her lips closed, but the moment his mouth covered hers, she knew that would be far from easy. Despite the hard line of his mouth, his lips were warm and soft. She felt her own mouth soften beneath his as a strange heat began to spread through her body. That frightened her far more than the fact that this stranger was taking a kiss that had not been offered.

When he forced his tongue through the weakened barriers of her lips she felt that warmth begin to curl through her body. She tried to break free of his hold but failed. A moment later she succumbed to the probing intoxication of his tongue.

What pulled her back to her senses was the way her mouth followed his when it began to pull away. Her eyes widened with shock at her own actions. She abruptly broke free of his hold, and with little grace and a great deal of haste scrambled back to her original place next to a wide-eyed Thornton.

A slow smile creased his face as Cloud poured himself another cup of coffee, his gaze on her flushed face. She was a warm one, her warmth not dimmed at all by the recent death of her man. Despite her resistance, he had sensed the quick build of her passion. She would undoubtedly have a store of excuses and evasions, so he began to plot a way to get her back into his arms in the shortest time possible.

His smile annoyed her, so Emily ignored it. What she found hard to ignore was the way his eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her. She wished she knew what was going on behind those eyes. Something told her that it did not bode well for her.

“We gonna get walking again?” asked Thornton.

“Yes. We cannot waste a day.” She rose to begin collecting their belongings.

“Don’t forget your parasol.” Cloud nodded towards that item. “No stroll is complete without one.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” she asked icily.

“Matter of fact, I do.” He stood up. “The San Luis Valley. Got a ranch there.”

Emily gaped after him as he strode over to his horses.

“Are you really going to the San Luis Valley?”

“Just said so, didn’t I?” He did not pause in his preparations.

“Then Thornton and I can come along with you.”

“Nope.”

She stared at him in open-mouthed disbelief. It had taken a lot to ask him; it had in fact been an act of sheer desperation. Emily could not believe he would refuse to help her and Thornton.

“You would leave us behind? All on our own?”

“Yup.” He turned to look at her, schooling his face to remain impassive. She must never guess that he was Muffing. “You’re a walking disaster, honey. I sure as hell don’t need the kind of trouble you could bring me. I’d like to reach my land alive. In fact, I intend to.”

“How can you be so heartless? You have made it abundantly plain that you think me totally incompetent. Leaving us on our own is tantamount to murder.”

He shrugged and began to saddle Savannah. “Got my own scalp to think about.”

“I can pay you,” she blurted out after a moment of frantic thought.

“You’ve got money?”

“Well, not exactly. I have a few things that can be traded for cash,” she added hastily as he began to mount. “A few pieces of jewelry.”

“How much will they bring?” he asked coolly, turning to face her again.

“Fifty, perhaps a hundred dollars.”

“Not worth risking my life for.” Again he started to mount.

“It’s all I have,” she said weakly, seeing her last chance slip away.

“Maybe.” He turned and slowly approached her. “Maybe not.”

She wondered if she had been foolish to let him know that she had collateral of any sort. He could easily take it and still leave her and Thornton stranded. The man certainly had not acted the gentleman. She could not help fearing that she had made yet another very large mistake.

“I could perhaps get more when we reach San Luis Valley.”

“From Harper?” he asked quietly, coming to a halt but inches from her.

“Harper? How do you know Harper?” She refused to allow him to intimidate her into stepping back.

“You said his name while you slept.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure Harper could add some. He would be glad that I had reached him safe and sound.”

“I’m sure he would be. I don’t want anything from Harper.”

His deep, smooth voice was doing strange things to her insides and she frowned. “What do you want, then? If you would state a price, I could say yes or no.”

“You,” he stated flatly as he took hold of a lock of her hair, caressing it between his long fingers.

“What?” she croaked, sure she had misunderstood him.

“I want you,” he purred, moving his hand so that it cupped the side of her slim neck where her pulse throbbed frantically.

“Did we not just fight a war to put an end to slavery?”

“Won it, too. Not slavery, darling, but service. You accommodate me and I’ll accommodate you.”

“I cannot believe you would take advantage of my desperate situation.”

“Believe it. I’m not overly endowed with scruples when it comes to getting what I want.”

“How true. The milk of human kindness plainly started to curdle once I crossed the Ohio.”

“No doubt. Well, do we have a deal?” “No, sir.” She stepped back, away from his touch. “We do not. If I were inclined to play the whore, I would have done it back in Boston.”

He shrugged and turned back to his horses. Cloud was not convinced that he had lost his gamble yet. There was time for her to rethink her refusal. Once she was sure that he really would leave her and the boy, she would change her mind.

Nonetheless, he began to plot a second course of action, in case he was wrong. Even he was not callous enough to leave her and the boy on their own. There was something about her that made him feel unusually protective.

Emily stood like a rock, her mind not functioning for a moment. The men she had known had not all been gentlemen, but she was sure none of them would have threatened to leave her and a small boy alone in a hostile wilderness. She could not believe the stranger really meant to do so.

“We going home now?” Thornton asked as he ambled up to her and took her hand in his.

Emily looked down at the child. His green eyes were filled with trust and hope. He believed her capable of keeping them alive, of knowing what to do and how to get them to safety. Unfortunately, his trust was misplaced.

She knew nothing of the country they walked through or the dangers it held. Emily knew the stranger was right—she was stumbling on with all the blind, stupid doggedness of her irascible mule.

She found herself asking if her chastity was all that precious. It might be worth protecting with her own life, but was it worth Thornton’s as well? The boy certainly could not understand the concept of honor or chastity.

“Sir?” she croaked, taking a hesitant step toward the horse and rider. “Sir?” she called in a stronger voice as she realized she had no choice but to accept his terms. “Mr. Ryder?”

He finally stopped, turning in his saddle to look at her. Although he had heard her the first time, he had ignored the faint cry. It could have been a false alarm. The way she stood there with her little chin raised told him she had made a decision. He only hoped it was the one he wanted.

She gently eased her hand free of Thornton’s clasp and approached him. She thought resignedly that she ought to be glad that he was young, strong and attractive. Her rescuer could have been a lot less appealing; he could have taken what he wanted by force.

“Perhaps if we could discuss the terms,” she began.

Dismounting, he pushed his hat back on his head and yanked her into his arms. He was amazed at how good she felt there. Cloud had held women that filled his arms better than this little Boston lady, but, oddly enough, he could not recall them now. All he could picture in his mind was how those soft curves looked without clothes.

“The terms are that we share a blanket from here to the valley.”

“I am not able to make any conditions?” she squeaked as he picked her up so that their faces were level. “You ask me to concede a great deal.”

“But you’ll gain a great deal—your life and the boy’s safety. I don’t think you’ll find it too hard to take.”

The kiss that followed confirmed his words. Emily had always been taught that a good woman did not enjoy such attentions, and under the present circumstances, she should be repulsed. But by the time he released her mouth, she could not deny her growing eagerness. It appalled her.

She could not help wondering if that earlier kiss had influenced her decision. A little voice whispered to her that while she was saving Thornton’s life and her own, she could be paying a price far higher than her chastity. She fought to quell a sudden panic. There really was no choice.

“There must be one condition,” she gasped, putting her hands on his chest and pushing against him.

Cloud found it hard to halt his lovemaking. He knew he was very close to tossing her down on the ground and taking her there and then. The strength of his desire for her surprised and somewhat alarmed him, but he had no intention of turning away from her.

“And what is that condition?” he asked tautly as he fought to control his passion.

“Consideration for the child. He must be kept as unaware as possible.”

“You’ll be in my arms every night. That’ll be hard to hide from him.”

It was impossible to keep down the blush that stained her face, but she struggled to ignore it. “I understand that, but surely there is no need to be too blatant.”

“In other words, don’t carry on when the boy’s standing there staring at us.”

Seeing him looking over her shoulder she followed the direction of his gaze. Thornton was watching them with intense curiosity. “That says it quite nicely, Mr. Ryder.”

Carefully, and with a reluctance he could not hide, he set her on her feet before him. “I think I can manage that. So?” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “A deal?”

Swallowing her pride, she nodded. “A deal.”

She thought his smile was annoying. He had gotten what he wanted. There was no need to gloat. Shooting him a glare, she went to pack up her things.

Cloud returned to the small campsite. Whatever guilt he felt about using her desperate situation to suit his own needs was easily vanquished. He found that, in this case, he had very few scruples. He would get her any way he could.

“This horse is too fine for a pack animal anyhow,” he said as he removed his things from the animal’s back and stowed them in the cart. “She’ll serve better as a mount for you. Of course, you’ll have to ride astride.” Emily bit her lip as she watched him prepare the horse for her. She had no fear of horses, but she had no experience riding. It was difficult to admit to him that she had never ridden a horse. However, she knew she had to speak up. She doubted she could pretend that she knew what she was doing and he ought to know her limitations. Emily simply wished that she did not have quite so many of them.

“Excuse me,” she ventured timidly as he stowed the last of his things in the cart. “Mmmmm?”

“Well, I think you had better look at me. It’s that sort of news.”

Frowning, he turned to face her. “You’d better put that hair up.”

“Pardon?” Her hand went to her still unbound hair. “Oh. Of course.”

“Indian sees that lot and he’ll be after you like a fox after a chicken.”

“I see, but I must inform you of something. It could be important.”

“Get on with it then.”

“I cannot ride a horse,” she said weakly.

“Not at all?”

“I’ve never been on the back of one in my whole life.”

“How the hell did you get around?”

“I walked or went by carriage.”

Muttering things she was glad she did not understand, he placed Thornton on his horse, then grabbed her waist and tossed her onto the back of the other horse. “You’ll learn, honey.”

Emily was sure there was a bruise to mark each new lesson in horsemanship. If Cloud was not cussing or yelling at her, he was laughing. Emily felt sure that she would have shot him if she’d possessed a gun.

The only good thing about riding was that it saved her feet, and the distance was certainly covered with more speed. Emily knew she would reach her destination much faster, but she was not sure she would get there alive. An immodest but judicious wrapping of her legs in her skirts had saved her from chafing but did little to cushion the jolts she suffered as she tried to learn the rhythm of her mount.

Cloud glanced at Emily and hid a grin. She had no aptitude for riding. He doubted that she would gain much skill with time and practice either. Nevertheless, he knew she would do her utmost to keep up with him.

Fortunately, the little boy had a natural skill. Even more important, he was obedient, responding to Cloud’s commands immediately. Since it looked as if he would have the boy with him for the duration of the journey, that was a blessing.

“We’ll stop for the night soon,” he said, glancing at the sunset.

Emily could not fully repress her sigh of relief. She prayed that there were carriages in Lockridge. After this journey, she hoped never to have to ride a horse again, even if it meant she had to walk for miles.

Nevertheless, she listened closely a short while later when Cloud instructed her in the care of her mount. That much she could do without difficulty.

After the animals were seen to, Cloud urged her to take advantage of a nearby creek. She set off at once, feeling no qualms about leaving the preparation of the meal in his hands. As she took the short walk to the creek she mused a little bitterly that he could probably do that better than she as well.

Taking advantage of the thick growth of bushes near the water, she shed her clothes. The water was brisk but she didn’t mind. Simply washing away the sweat and dust eased her discomfort. The aches she suffered lost a great deal of their importance.

It was not until she donned her underthings, still damp from the rinsing she had given them, that she wondered if cleaning up had been a mistake. Smelling a little rank might have deterred Cloud Ryder. She grimaced as she shook that thought aside and finished dressing. The man was not about to be deterred by such a weak defense.

She knew it would be better not to think about what was to come. That however, was far easier said than done. She started back towards the camp and a fate she still faintly hoped could be avoided.

One look at Cloud’s face told her that she did not have even a faint hope. Resolutely, she gave most of her attention to Thornton. It did not bother her at all that Cloud knew that she was deliberately ignoring him.

She resisted the urge to keep Thornton awake. She would not use the boy as a pawn. She tucked him into his blanket shortly after the meal, then told him a short story.

“Is the man taking us home?” Thornton asked sleepily.

“Yes, dear. He’s also going to the San Luis Valley. He will take us to Harper.”

“You ain’t put your blanket next to me.”

“No.” She refused to blush. “I will sleep next to Mr. Ryder until we reach the valley. I won’t be far away. Go to sleep, love.”

She was glad of Thornton’s youth, for it saved her from awkward questions. However, she was not glad of the speed with which the boy fell asleep. Emily busied herself with washing Thornton’s clothes and spreading them out to dry; then she cleared away the remains of the meal. She was just about to start on some mending when a strong arm caught her around the waist.

“I suppose this is an improvement over being dragged off by one’s hair,” she said tartly, hiding her nervousness as he carried her toward the bed of blankets.

“Wouldn’t treat that glorious hair so harshly.”

Emily gave a soft cry when he tossed her onto the blanket, but the ground was surprisingly soft. Peeking beneath the thin blanket, she found a layer of furs. When she looked back at Cloud, she forgot her caustic remark about a man and his comforts, for he had shed all but his trousers.

His chest was broad, smoothly muscular, and dark. The only hair she could see started as a thin line at his navel then disappeared beneath his belt. She blushed and hastily avoided his eyes. She gave a nervous start when he knelt by her and began to take down her hastily pinned-up hair.

Cloud felt her shiver as he smoothed his hands over her loosened hair. “I won’t hurt you, Emily.”

“There are many ways to hurt a person, Mr. Ryder,” she retorted softly. She trembled as he removed her bodice. “You think it will not pain me to play the whore for you?”

Tugging off her shoes and stockings, he studied her flushed face. “Not the whore, Emily. My lover.”

“How so? Do I not buy your help and protection with my body?”

“Women have sold their bodies for far less.” He tipped up her chin and made her face him. “I haven’t even had you yet, honey, but I know you’re no whore. Now, no more talk.”

She had no choice but to obey him, for his mouth hungrily covered hers. Emily was so caught up in the maelstrom of sensation his kisses produced that she was only vaguely aware of his skillful removal of her clothes. The occasional half-conscious, muffled noises of protest she did make were ruthlessly ignored and soon she was naked in his arms.

Gently he pushed her back onto the furs. She lay stunned both by his kisses and her own embarrassment. No man had ever seen her so and the shock to her sense of modesty held her immobile beneath his dark gaze.

Cloud’s eyes never left her as he shed the last of his clothes. She was exquisite, lithe and slender but with all the softness a man could want. He did not think he had been so eager to bury himself in a woman since he had been a green youth.

Emily saw the last of his clothes tossed aside and gasped. She was sure she would be torn asunder. Although she had never seen a man fully naked she was certain there was a lot more of Cloud Ryder than there ought to be. With a little moan, she closed her eyes.

Seeing her fear, Cloud paused. Although many women had exclaimed over his attributes, he did not really believe he was any more of a man than other males. This little widow and mother was acting like some virgin. He wondered if she and her husband had only indulged in restrained fumbling beneath the bedclothes.

When he took her into his arms, their flesh meeting for the first time, they both trembled. Cloud smiled as he brushed his lips over her face. The passion was there for him to tap. He only hoped he could control his overwhelming need long enough to bring it to the surface.

“Sweet, lovely Emily,” he murmured against her lips. “I swear I won’t hurt you.”

As he took her mouth in another drugging kiss, Emily felt rising heat burn away her fears. Shame flickered through her, for she knew she found enjoyment in his kiss, in the feel of his long, lean frame so close to her, and in the warmth of his touch.

A soft cry escaped her when he moved his mouth to her breasts. Although a small part of her cried out in denial, she buried her hands in his thick, glossy hair to hold his enticing mouth closer when his tongue began to taunt her nipples. Yet another cry escaped her, a cry of delight, as he replied to her unconscious urgings and drew the hard, aching tip of a breast deep into his greedy mouth.

Despite the blinding heat of her passion, she jerked away from his touch when he slid his hand up her inner thigh. It was only a brief rejection of intimacy, for she soon succumbed to a fresh cascade of desire. Sensations, new and devastating, crashed over her from several sources. His mouth, his touch, and his rich deep voice all seduced her.

“God, you’re already hot for me … warm, welcoming.” He growled low in his throat as her fluttering hands shyly moved over him. “You can’t keep fighting it, little lady. It’s too strong.”

He slowly kissed his way back to her flushed face as she felt him position his legs between hers. Emily shuddered with a feeling that was far more anticipation than fear. Being a virgin and a moral young lady, she feared and rejected what was about to happen. However, her body betrayed her. It arched against him, begging for whatever he would give her.

Cloud took her mouth in a fierce kiss just as he plunged into her, but suddenly he stiffened, stilled by shock. He did not need to feel her withdrawal, to hear her low moan, to know he had just roughly shattered a young woman’s innocence. Releasing her mouth, he stared at her, noting that she had paled slightly and that her tear-bright gaze was accusing.

“You said you would not hurt me,” she rasped even as she felt the stinging pain begin to recede.

“I thought you’d already had a man.” He moved his hand over her body seeking to ease her tension and restore her passion. “I would’ve gone easier if I’d known.” Feeling her grow soft and warm again, he began to feather kisses over her face. “It always hurts a woman the first time.”

“That seems a strange and unfair arrangement,” she murmured huskily as her passion began to build again. She felt a ripple of delight when he chuckled against her throat. “Is that all there is to it?”

“Nope.” He began to move slowly and felt her tremble. “There’s more, darlin'.”

Emily found it suddenly difficult to talk. After a moment she did not need his guiding hands on her slim hips but matched his rhythm without urging. He positioned her legs around him and she clung to him as she felt herself dragged helplessly along.

Suddenly she panicked. Her body felt as if it were ready to hurl itself from some precipice. She tried to retreat from the edge, but he held her tight against him, murmuring nonsense that worked too soothe her sudden fear. Emily heard a strange cry even as she went under a blinding wave of sensation and realized that it came from her. She felt Cloud drive into her and held him there, her body drinking deeply of his release. The sound of her name breaking from his lips as he shuddered in her arms increased her own pleasure.

It was a while before he eased the intimacy of their embrace. She lay still, feeling confused, then watched as he rose to fetch a cloth. A sensuous lethargy held her still and placid as he returned to the rough bed and pulled her into his arms.

“I knew it would be good,” he muttered softly as he smoothed his hands through her hair. “Whose boy is Thornton? Damn well isn’t yours as I’d first thought.”

“Why should you think he was mine?”

“He calls you mama and, although he doesn’t resemble you that much, he’s got green eyes.”

“Oh. Well, his name is Sears. He was the only child of the young couple I was traveling with.”

“Traveling alone? To Harper?” Cloud wondered why the unseen Harper was beginning to irritate him.

“Yes. It might seem foolhardy but it was my only chance. I was living with my sister, and it was not the best of situations. I was taking care of her children, but I began to think that she wished me to take care of her husband as well. Harper’s invitation seemed like the answer to my prayers.”

“A new life,” he said a little sarcastically.

“Perhaps not new, but at least different and, I hoped, better.” She sighed, overwhelmed by shame. “Who knows what will happen now.”

“Why do you say that? Because you’re a fallen woman?” he drawled.

“To me, it is far from a matter of jest,” she snapped, fighting tears.

Rolling so that she was beneath him, he said, “Worried you face spinsterhood because you’re not a virgin anymore? That might have been the way of it back east, but not out here. Women are scarce, darlin'. Virginity ain’t all that important. A man out nere wants a woman, not a saint.”

Aware of his hard length and annoyed by that awareness, she said crossly, “I was not aiming to be a saint, but a sense of what’s right never hurt anyone.”

“Honey, this is right,” he growled as he touched his lips to the increasing pulse in her throat.

“This is what I should be doing with my lawfully wedded husband, not with you.” She gritted her teeth but failed to stem the warmth his touch engendered in her. “This is a sin.”

“What a little puritan. Your head might tell you that"—he watched the tips of her breasts harden invitingly beneath his touch—"but your body says sin be damned. I never had a virgin before,” he mused aloud as he bent his head to flick his tongue over each hard nub.

“Isn’t that wonderful,” she said in a sweet voice dripping with sarcasm, “I have given you a first.”

“Yes, you have,” he said slowly, but he was not referring to her innocence.

“You can’t mean to—well, to do it again?” she gasped as she became fully aware of his renewed arousal.

“Certainly do, ma’am. Are you sore?” he asked in sudden concern.

“Well, not really,” she replied with an honesty that she could not restrain. “Should I be?”

“Might be tomorrow.”

“Then perhaps you ought to restrain yourself, since I must ride that beast tomorrow.”

“I’ll give you an extra blanket. The only thing I restrain myself from is restraining myself.”

“If everyone thought that way, the world would be in chaos.”

“Thought it was.” He brushed his lips over hers. “This time you’ll participate.”

“Not on your life.”

“It’s not my life at stake,” he reminded her coolly.

“You are a complete bastard, Mr. Ryder,” she said icily.

“So I’ve been told, darlin'. Now, shut up.”

Much to her annoyance, she did. Worse, she did participate to some extent. Yet again they scaled passion’s heights, their bodies in perfect sensual harmony. When he finally eased the embrace, the lethargy she had felt before now weighted her eyelids. She did not even have the strength to scold herself for the way she cuddled up to him.

“I must put some clothes on,” she murmured sleepily.

“No, you don’t.” He ran his hand slowly over her side until he let it rest upon the gentle curve of her hip.

“Thornton. Mustn’t let him see me. Might not wake up before him.”

“Well, wear my shirt. There’ll be less to take off if I want you again.”

Groggily she started to don the shirt he held out for her, her gaze fixed upon him with sleepy annoyance. “Don’t I have any say in the matter?”

“Our deal, you’ll recall.”

“I have a feeling I shan’t be allowed to forget it for a moment.”

“Doubt I’ll have the energy to remind you that often.”

She made a soft noise of disgust as she lay down. But she did not resist when he tucked her up against him spoon-fashion. It felt much too nice and she was much too tired.

Cloud felt her breathing grow soft and even with sleep. She felt good tucked up against him. He had no urge to seek a private corner to sleep in as he had so often in the past.

That puzzled him almost as much as the strength of the desire he felt for her. He could not attribute it to a lengthy celibacy, not after a week of Abigail’s assiduous attentions. Neither could he claim it was due to her skill, for she had none except what came naturally. Her shy, reluctant touch had none of Abigail’s practiced enticement, but it made him burn.

He decided not to think about it. It was just one of those things. As he slipped into the light sleep of the hardened soldier, he decided to just accept and enjoy.

Screams mingled with bloodthirsty war cries. Emily clasped her hands over her ears, but the sounds went on and on until she thought she would go mad. They did not even stop when the shooting did. When the silence finally came, she could still hear the echoes of the battle.

Slowly she walked toward the thin column of smoke. So much blood! She gagged over the warm, fresh stench of it. Shutting her eyes tightly did not close out the sight of so many bodies cast like stones over the ground, some twisted, some straight, but all soaked in their life’s blood. Friends lay mutilated, some more than others. She ached to tear the vision from her eyes.

It was a while before her horror-gripped mind became aware of a deep, soothing voice and a calloused but gentle hand that smoothed over her forehead, driving the demons away. “Cloud?”

“Ssssh, honey. Don’t let it haunt you,” he murmured against her ear.

She turned in his hold, borrowing against him, her face pressing against his chest. “So much blood.”

“It’s the way of war, Emily, and don’t let anyone tell you different—this is war.”

“They had such grand plans,” she mourned. Yet sleep was already tugging at her again.

He slid his hand beneath her shirt to caress her gently rounded backside. “Emily.”

“Mmmmm?” The sound was both question and soft purr of delight.

“I know just the thing to take your mind off it.”

“I begin to think that is your cure for all ills.”

“It sure does wonders for what ails me,” he growled softly.

“We should sleep,” she tried to protest even as she arched to his touch as he cupped her breast in his hand.

“It’ll help you sleep as well.” His pulses leapt when she giggled softly.

To his delight, she held nothing back, participating and responding with equal abandon. He had an idea that it was a momentary surrender and took full advantage of it. There was little doubt in his mind that her subtle but ever-present resistance would return later.

Emily was a little shocked by her actions but quickly dismissed the fear that she was some kind of wanton. She knew she was using the physical magic he had introduced her to in order to erase her memories, if only temporarily. It also helped her fall asleep, a deep peaceful sleep that, for now, was not haunted by memories of a blood-soaked campsite.

“Poor little Emily,” Cloud murmured as he studied her asleep in his arms, looking like a child in his large shirt.

It never ceased to amaze him how so many people, raised in the east and accustomed to its settled civilization, could pick up and march west. So few of them had any idea of what they would face or how to take care of themselves. With wives and children in tow, men set out with their heads full of dreams and little common sense. Unfortunately, it was people like Emily and Thornton who suffered as a result of their folly.

For all he had seen of death and battle, despite how it had hardened him, the suffering of the innocents never ceased to affect him. They were always caught up in the maelstrom, suffering and not understanding why. Too often they died or were permanently scarred in mind or body or both. Emily’s sleep was too often haunted and the boy, who even now crept toward them, was also disturbed by a memory he was too young to fully understand.

“Can I share, Mr. Ryder?”

Cloud looked at the little boy who knelt by the bed clutching his blanket. Thornton was wide-eyed and close to crying. Emily’s presence during the night had no doubt been keeping the worst of his fears away. Cloud shifted himself and Emily to make room for the child.

“Sure. Climb in, boy. You can’t make a habit of this, though.” “I know.” Thornton scrambled in and sidled up close to the sleeping Emily. “Mama said that.”

“This Mama?” Cloud ventured.

“Yup. My first one’s wif the angels. Are you gonna be my second papa?”

“No,” Cloud replied gently. “Think of me as an uncle if you want.”

“Okay. I never had one of them.” He snuggled a little closer to Emily. “This is nice. Mama’s warm.”

“That she is, Thornton,” Cloud drawled, smiling to himself.

“Are you going to keep the Injuns away?”

“I’ll do my best. Let’s say I’ll try to keep us away from the Indians.”

“That’s good. I don’t want Mama to hafta dig no more holes.”

“Neither do I, son. Now get to sleep. We’ve still got a long way to go.”

Thornton obediently closed his eyes but asked, “Is it pretty in Sandly’s?”

“Yes, it’s a real pretty place. You’ll be happy there, Thornton. Now sleep.”

As Thornton worked to obey that command, Cloud thought of the valley. After the war, he had done a lot of wandering and had chanced to find himself in the San Luis Valley. Even though he had not been ready to settle there, he had marked out his lana, knowing that was where he would want to be when he grew tired of roaming. His younger brother Wolfe did settle and, for nearly three years, had kept a watch on both lots of land.

He now felt like doing something with the acres he had marked out. The winter would give him the time to sort out exactly which of his many ideas was the best. Over the years he had gathered a nest egg he felt was large enough to let him do as he pleased.

With thoughts of building a home to the fore of his mind, he suddenly found himself thinking of filling it. When his gaze fell upon Emily and Thornton he was a little disconcerted. The pair was having an unsettling effect upon him, threatening to soften too many of his hard edges.

His gaze still fixed upon the woman and child curled up next to him, he reviewed the idea that had flashed through his mind. In truth, he decided it was not at all that illogical. When a man put down stakes and built a house, it was usually with a family in mind. Despite his aversion to tying himself to a woman, he had always wanted children and had reluctantly accepted the fact that a wife was needed for that.

Emily was no frontierswoman, but she was strong and willing to learn. She had also been a virgin and, despite what he had told her, that did work in her favor. So too did that touch of puritan in her. Cloud felt confident that there would be no need to guess who’d fathered any child she gave him.

Since he was not a man given to romantic notions, he viewed the matter with a cool practicality. It began to look a very sensible course. With a last look at Emily, he closed his eyes, intending to get some rest before the rapidly approaching dawn arrived. It was a long way to the San Luis Valley. There was plenty of time to make a decision.

By the time they reached a small fort set up to protect the increasing number of settlers arriving in the territory, Emily had gotten used to the horse she rode. She had even named the mare Carolynn, after her equally stubborn sister. She knew she was no rider, but it was no longer the constant battle it had been.

She was, however, still waging a stubborn war against a certain Cloud Ryder. He was a man of exceedingly healthy appetites—he was, in fact, voracious. Emily thought that if Thornton had not been around to keep the man in control during the day, she would probably end up crawling to Harper’s. It amazed her that she was not absolutely exhausted.

It was neither of those things that truly bothered her, however. What was beginning to frighten her was that the small resistance she did put up was getting harder to maintain. So was an attitude of aloofness. He was slowly possessing far more than her body, and it had not been quite a full week since she met him. Sometimes the shame she felt was so strong it cramped her stomach, but it never stopped her from melting into his arms at night. She trembled to think what the state of her emotions would be by the time they reached the San Luis Valley. Nothing she did seemed to halt her heedless fall into love.

When they dismounted near the supply depot’s meager stable inside the blockade, she got further proof of how much danger she was in. A well-formed redhead burst out of the building, flung her arms around Cloud, and proceeded to give him a hearty kiss that he did little to stop. Emily felt anger and pain knot inside of her and knew she was blindingly jealous.

“Here now, Justine, let a man catch his breath.” Cloud gently but firmly extracted himself from the woman’s hold.

“Asphyxiation would suit you,” muttered Emily as she began to undo her saddle.

Cloud pretended not to hear that but took Justine by the arm and nudged her a step closer to Emily. “There’s someone here you ought to meet. Emily Brockinger, Justine Dubois.”

“How do you do, Miss Dubois.” Emily saw no reason to not at least be polite.

Justine glared at her. “How do and it’s Missus.”

“Is it?” Emily asked softly, not stopping in the removing of the saddle from Carolynn.

“Yeh, it is. I’m a widder.” Justine smoothed the skirts of her bright blue dress.

“I should have guessed,” Emily murmured. “Your grief is so apparent.”

“Who the hell’s she?” Justine snapped, turning a narrow-eyed gaze upon Cloud.

“My traveling companion,” he drawled, putting an arm around Emily and bending toward her.

Emily held the saddle between them. “Don’t you dare put those much-used lips anywhere near my mouth.”

“Jealous, sweetheart?” he asked coolly.

“Not by a long shot, darling. I simply cherish my good health.”

“Our bargain—”

“—said nothing about my having to stand docilely by and be made to look like a raving jackass,” she hissed as she pulled free of his light hold.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he watched her see to the care of her saddle. When he noticed how her little chin was up, he grinned. She did have a point. It certainly did make one feel a fool when the one you had ridden in with was busy carrying on with another. As he mulled over the matter, Cloud remained oblivious to the man at his side, who had heard the exchange and was struggling to overcome his surprise.

“Any time you can tear yourself away from deciding which miss to bless with your attentions, a hello would not be amiss.”

“James!” Cloud cried, turning to his old friend. “What the hell are you doing here?” He frowned as he surveyed James’s outfit while shaking his hand. “Where’s your uniform?”

“Ah, well, that fool wanted me to lead the men. Gave me a choice—go or resign.” James shrugged his broad shoulders. “I resigned. Came here on the stage.”

“So that’s how you got here before us.”

“Us?” James asked, his silver gaze revealing his puzzlement. “I thought you rode alone. Who’s us?”

“Miss Emily Brockinger and"—he placed a hand on Thornton’s head—"Thornton Sears. This is an old friend of mine, James Carlin.”

Nodding to the man as she started to curry her horse, Emily murmured, “You are slipping, Mr. Ryder. That is a man.”

“Don’t be pert,” he admonished with a grin.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“How did you two happen to meet?” James asked “Well,” Cloud drawled, “I crested this hill and saw this little lady stumbling along, parasol in hand, dragging the stubbornest mule I’ve ever set eyes on and carrying the boy on her back. Naturally, seeing such damned foolishness, out of the goodness of my heart, I went and set her right.”

“I do believe I am going to be ill,” Emily muttered and slapped the currying brush into his hand. “I am going to see what goods the storehouse provides.”

“Need some money?”

She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet. “I would not take your money if I was blind and maimed and propped up with a tin cup.”

“Got some of your own then, hmmm? What’re you buying?”

“New material for my parasol.” She started towards the door of the storehouse.

“Think you’re good enough to ride with the reins in one hand and the parasol in the other?”

“Not at all. I felt it would be useful for all those leisurely rest stops you give us.”

“See what happens when you’re kind, James? Nothing but base ingratitude.”

“The day you are kind, Mr. Ryder, I shall keel over, lilies clutched to my bodice.” She had just stepped inside the store when she called out, “Thornton? Coming?”

Cloud grinned at a laughing James as Thornton hurried after Emily. “Cute as hell, ain’t she? Little witch.”

“The girl thinks too much of herself,” huffed Justine, tired of being ignored.

“There does not seem to be anyone here to accept my money. Does that mean that everything is free?” Emily called from within the store.

The two men laughed as Justine rushed into the store just as Emily had clearly known she would. James then turned his hand to aiding Cloud in the care of the animals and cart. Cloud kept him well entertained with the full tale of how Emily had looked when he first saw her.

“Just can’t see you dragging a city-bred girl and a little boy along with you.”

“It has its compensations,” Cloud said as they entered the store to find Emily bent over a box of ribbons and he patted her backside.

“Do that again and I shall do you a serious injury.”

“Got a sharp tongue, doesn’t she,” James observed as they took a seat at a table in the half of the building that served as a tavern. “She certainly doesn’t cling like your others.”

“Nope, Emily’s no clinger. Three beers and something for the boy, Justine.” He smiled crookedly when Justine left the table with invitation in her every sway. “She’s in a tiff just now.”

“Leaving another behind, are you?”

“Oh, no. I’m taking her and the boy to the valley. That’s where she was headed when I found her. No, Em’s just miffed because I kissed Justine when I arrived—or rather, Justine kissed me and I allowed it.” He took a sip of the beer Justine set down before him. “Very good, Justine. Could you ask Emily and Thornton to come over here?”

“Is she a friend of yours or something?”

Cloud thought over the last few days of traveling with Emily. He was a little surprised to find that he could not think of one moment when he had been bored or had wished to be rid of her. Despite the fact that she was still learning many of the simple basics needed to stay alive in a still untamed territory, she was a very good companion.

“Yeh, Justine, she’s a friend of mine.”

“A friend, huh?” marveled James after Justine had flounced away. “Maybe that’s not such a good thing if she’s the jealous sort.”

“Don’t know if it was jealousy, but she was definitely angry. Said it made her look a fool and she’s got a good dose of stiff-necked Yankee pride. Thinking it over, she’s right and Emily doesn’t deserve to be made a fool of. She doesn’t know a damn thing about surviving out here and admits it, but she was doggedly pushing on anyway when I spotted her. Many another lady would’ve sat down and wept. For all her tart remarks, she doesn’t bitch either.”

“A high accolade indeed,” murmured James as Emily and Thornton arrived.

Emily sat down between the two men and Thornton scrambled up onto the chair opposite her. She was trying very hard not to be angry, but Justine’s behavior was not helping. The woman did not know about the deal between her and Cloud, yet she was acting as if she would be taking Emily’s place while they were at the fort. For all her remarks about being unwilling, Emily knew that that arrangement would sorely hurt and infuriate her. If nothing else, it would make her look the expedient bedwarmer she was trying hard to deny she was.

“What’s this?” she asked, studying the drink before her.

“Beer. Don’t tell me you’ve never had beer?”

“All right, Cloud. I won’t.” She took a sip. “It’s rather nice.”

“Just what’d you drink back in Boston?”

“Tea, lemonade, an occasional glass of sherry. Beer or ale was a drink for a working gentleman.”

Cloud rolled his eyes in disgust. “Didn’t your sister’s husband work?”

“As little as possible,” Emily replied, her eyes alight with deviltry. “Work is so common, you know.”

“Never did understand the rich. Whole different species. Justine,” Cloud called, “still serve meals?”

“Yup.” She sidled over to press against his shoulder. “I have a fine stew on the menu today.”

He shifted so that the contact was broken. “Sounds fine. Can we have four bowls, please?”

Over the meal, which even Emily had to admit was good, James kept her talking about Boston. He had never been that far east and was honestly interested in a life that seemed to be lived in another world. He thought, too, that Emily’s world in Boston had been that of the financially well-off.

Thanks to James’s pleasant talk, and another tankard of beer, Emily’s mood improved. The arrival of a few more travelers kept Justine busy, which suited Emily just fine. It was a while before she realized that the beer was far more potent than she had thought.

“Where are we to sleep tonight?” she asked Cloud.

Grinning, for he suspected she was beginning to feel the effects of too much beer, Cloud drawled, “Why, Em, sweet, are you that eager?”

She scowled at him. “Your crudity is excelled only by your vanity.”

James snickered softly and Cloud grinned wider, then called, “Justine?”

That woman abruptly left the two young soldiers she had been flirting with. “Yeh, Cloud?”

“You still have those two private rooms upstairs for hire?”

While Cloud and Justine haggled over the price, Emily’s gaze went to the two young soldiers. One of them was eyeing her, but the other was glaring at Cloud’s back. Emily felt sure that the young man was more than casually acquainted with Justine and resented her fawning attentions to Cloud. She also felt sure that he was within a breath of starting a fight. When she saw how Justine kept glancing toward the soldiers as she pressed against Cloud, Emily knew the woman was goading the poor young man.

She was just about to say something concerning Justine’s game when the soldier broke free of his companion’s restraining hold and lunged. “Look out, Cloud! Behind you.”

Cloud had already stood and turned to meet the attack when she cried out. She, James, and Thornton barely escaped going down with the table as the two grappling men crashed down on top of it. Emily noted sourly that Justine had anticipated the soldier’s move and stepped well out of the way. She now stood avidly watching the fight.

“Are you all right, miss?” James asked. “Just fine. They ought to be thrashing her instead of each other.” “Started it, did she?” James looked at Justine. “She’s sure enjoying herself.”

“Is there no way to stop this?”

“Not that I know of,” he said, then added, “It’s taking longer than it should though. I think Cloud’s trying not to hurt the young fool.”

Looking at the soldier’s battered face, Emily drawled, “Really? How kind.”

For a short while she stood by doing nothing, wincing at each blow that landed and scowling at the small, avidly watching crowd. She finally decided that she had had more than enough of two grown men pummeling each other for the gratification of a vain woman. Slipping away from James, she took a hasty tour of the place and was rewarded in her search.

Walking back to where Cloud and the soldier wrestled on the floor, she got as close as she dared and tossed the contents of the bucket on them. The cold water did the trick. They separated and sat up spluttering, allowing James and the other soldier to dash in and physically stop them from starting up again. Emily noted that, with some of the blood washed away, they were not as battered as she had first thought.

“What the hell did you do that for?” growled Cloud as he wiped his face with the towel James had fetched.

“It was becoming tedious, Mr. Ryder. Now, if you had been fighting for a worthy cause—”

“He was after Justine!” expounded the soldier. “I was fighting for her.”

Emily looked at the preening woman with a contempt that made Justine flush with anger. “This? To the victor goes the spoils?”

“Here now!” shrilled Justine.

“Mrs. Dubois,” Emily interrupted icily, “if you must satisfy your vanity by having men beat each other to a pulp over your disputable charms, that is your privilege. However, Mr. Ryder is my guide and guard. He would be of little use to me if he was beaten senseless.”

“Phew,” James breathed. “That sure cut Justine down a notch or two.”

Cloud grinned. “Em can talk like a damn duchess. She better watch it, though. Justine’s got a fierce temper.”

“It ain’t his guiding and guarding you’re fretting about,” Justine hissed, “but that he’ll get too beat up to serve you in bed.”

Emily stared coldly at Justine. In truth, she had not been all that concerned for Cloud. The younger, more slightly built soldier had been little threat to him. Her disgust had been all for Justine, and she had simply wanted to stop the fight that had fed her vanity.

“Justine,” Cloud said in a soft warning as he stood up.

“What’s she got to be so high and mighty for? She’s nothing but your whore.”

That stung and Emily said, in a soft clipped voice, “Your remarks reveal your low breeding.”

The slap Justine delivered nearly sent Emily to the floor. Emily reacted to the attack without any real thought, bringing forth lessons learned when, as a child ignored by her family, she had sought playmates among the children of the servants, children who had put her through many a trial before accepting her and had left her with an almost permanent black eye. As she had done so often back then, she balled up one small fist and delivered a sound right to Justine’s jaw. The taller woman fell unconscious with a soft grunt.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cloud said quietly, staring at the sprawled Justine.

“Undoubtedly.” Realizing with she had done, Emily began to feel sorely embarrassed.

“Didn’t learn that at a tea party,” he observed with a grin.

“No. From the stableboy.”

“What the hell’s going on here?” bellowed a deep voice.

James hustled Emily and Thornton back to the table he had set right. Cloud took over the chore of talking to the huge bearded man who was Justine’s father. Justine’s brother took her to her room and then took over the job of serving beer. Emily did not really think she wanted another glass but began to drink it anyway, for it soothed the intense embarrassment she felt. It was several moments before Cloud returned to the table, still grinning from his exchange with Justine’s father.

“We’ve got two rooms. You’re welcome to share with Thornton, James.”

Emily felt color flood her face and tried to hide it by taking a drink. She did not doubt that James had already assumed that she shared Cloud’s bed. It was, however, a little disconcerting to hear it referred to so casually.

“Think I’ll take you up on that. In fact, I was hoping to join you on your journey.”

“Planning on settling in the valley?”

“Maybe. Wheth. . .