Deadly Page 9

  He wanted to find that creamy center and see if he could melt her heart.

  His mouth moved over hers, sucking her lip inside, wanting…needing more from her. With his good hand, he pulled her closer, angling his mouth, his tongue sweeping the inside of her lips. She tasted of whiskey and desire, a thrilling combination any man without a bullet hole in his shoulder would have taken advantage of.

  Suddenly, she pulled her mouth away from his, her breathing harsh, her eyes wide. “What are you doing, Sheriff?”

  He pulled back, his shoulder aching in a rhythm that matched the throbbing between his legs. “Kissing you.”

  She smiled, and his heart warmed clear down to his toes and back. He loved it when she smiled at him; it got his ticker pounding every time. Not to mention that it seemed she was over being angry at him.

  “You kiss pretty nice,” she said softly.

  He glanced up at her and frowned. “That’s not something a man likes to hear. You never want your kisses referred to as nice. You want to hear stupendous, earth shattering. Maybe we should try again,” he said, his lips closing in to kiss her again.

  She put her hand between them. “I think it’s time we called it a night. You’re going to feel like someone’s beat you up tomorrow.”

  He already felt that way, but he liked holding her in his lap, and he loved the feel of her mouth beneath his. He wasn’t ready for the night to end. He wanted more. “Just tell me one thing, Meg, and then we can go to sleep.”

  “What, cowboy?”

  “Was I the first man to kiss you?”

  Chapter Six

  Meg stared into the fire, her heart in her throat, her eyes burning from the smoke. She knew the wetness in her eyes was not from the campfire. She stood from Zach’s lap, walked over to her blankets, and sat. She needed to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. She had to keep her focus on Simon and that bounty. Not kissing a good-looking cowboy. The alcohol and Zach had opened a vein of feelings she’d been unable to control.

  Her stomach clenched and rose up in her throat. His question only made her think of how much she’d missed out on while she’d raised her younger sisters. How she’d put her own life aside until her sisters were settled. How unfair the situation seemed.

  “Let me think about this. I’ve been taking care of my sisters and the farm since I was twelve years old. When do you think there would have been time for boys and primping and courting? So, yes, Zach, you’re the only man who has ever kissed me,” she admitted in the darkness.

  Why did it feel like she was admitting to being a homely, ugly creature that no man had ever wanted? Why did it feel like she wasn’t worthy because no man came calling? And why, given her situation, did she feel like this was a fair representation of her beauty? Even her sister Ruby had been kissed by more than one young man.

  Zach smiled. “You know a man likes being a woman’s first. I feel honored.”

  “You don’t think I’m too homely to kiss?” she asked. There had been no one to ever tell her she was pretty. No mother to reassure her, not even her father to let her know she was someone a man would want.

  Zach’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. “God, woman, do you need those new fangled spectacles to help your eyesight? Homely is not a word that comes close to describing you. Even wearing pants, you’re the prettiest woman this side of Fort Worth. I’m not sure I want to see you in a dress because I don’t want to have to fight the local cowboys off.”

  Meg knew he was just saying this to make her feel pretty. She didn’t believe him. Besides, Papa had warned the girls about listening to a man who enticed them with pretty words. He’d told his daughters to watch a man’s actions. Actions revealed a man’s nature.

  Zach stared at her in amazement. “You really have no idea of how pretty you are, do you?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve not had much time to spend on primping and dressing up. Between the farm and taking care of my sisters, my childhood pretty much ended when my mother died.”

  One moment she’d been playing dolls and the next she was handling real dolls, feeding, clothing, and caring for her sisters. While she loved them with all her heart, she longed to have had a normal childhood. Whatever that entailed.

  He nodded. “My dad died when I was young. My mom remarried, and my stepfather was not the man my father was. It wasn’t long until I started anticipating the day I could leave.”

  Even Zach had experienced death at such a young age. But the caregiver, his mother, was there. He wasn’t responsible for his younger siblings. He wasn’t the one they’d depended on.

  “Didn’t you say you had brothers?”

  “Yeah, three of them.”

  “Do you ever see them?”

  “Every couple of months,” he said. “They’re all grown now and out on their own.”

  Meg stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. “I never realized just how little I know about you. We were going to marry, and I’ve never even met your family.”

  She wondered if he felt about his brothers the way she did about her sisters. What his relationship was like with his brothers? Were they close?

  He smiled. “I really did intend to ask you to marry me that night.”

  Like the spin of a windmill, her mind returned to that night when she’d been waiting to find out his answer. Her hopes and dreams had all been pinned on that evening, and then she’d overheard the men ridiculing her in the bathhouse. Zach had always said he was going to ask her. Even as she made the tub ready to drag down Main Street, he’d said over and again he was going to ask her to marry him.

  “I would have said yes,” she replied, gazing at him intently.

  “What if I asked you today?” he said staring, his brown eyes focused on her, a slight smile on his lips, though she knew he was serious.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Was Zach the man she wanted? She considered his question and how it could change her life. Then she smiled. “I’m no longer desperate. Now I’m holding out for the real thing. I want a man who will honor and protect me and who loves me. I want someone I can grow old with. You had your chance.”

  Zach grinned. “I didn’t realize how easy I had it before. Now I’ll have to work for your heart and your hand.”

  Was he serious? Somehow she didn’t think she was what he wanted. He wanted a prim and proper woman, and even if she wore a dress, Meg had an air about her that she doubted any man would ever change. And she would never change for any man.

  “Oh, I think that’s the whiskey talking,” she said. “You don’t want a pants-wearing, bounty-hunting woman who’ll hen peck and tell you what to do.”

  “God, I could eat those words right now, but they’d probably give me heartburn,” he said. He picked up the bottle and took another swig.

  A moth dove into the fire and made a sizzling noise. Occasionally, she could hear something rustling in the bushes and wondered what animal was foraging for food.

  “I think they would be tough words to chew,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees, hugging them in close to her while she stared at Zach’s nice firm chest. She loved watching the flicker of the flames from the fire glinting off the hard planes of his abdomen.

  He shivered.

  “Are you cold?” she asked.

  “Yeah, a little,” he said.

  “Here I’ll let you have my blanket.” She handed him the cover from her bedroll.

  “No, I’m not taking the only blanket away from a woman.”

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing he probably couldn’t see her in the darkness. Why was the man resisting? It was a damn blanket, nothing more. He was injured, without a shirt, and the whole argument seemed senseless. His manhood was not any weaker because she was wanted him to be warm tonight.

  “Really, I’ll be fine. You’re the one without a shirt.” Though, covering up that chest and abdomen would be a darn shame. She’d enjoyed gazing at him without his shirt on—the
ripples across his abdomen, the tapering of his waist, the hint of something more just below the waistline of his pants.

  “No. I’ll share the blanket, but I’m not taking it from you.”

  She stared at him and shook her head. “Zach Gillespie, you are one stubborn mule-headed man.”

  “That I am. And you, Meg McKenzie, are a spirited, opinionated, beautiful woman. Now bring your blanket and your sweet little self and come sit by me,” he said, motioning her with his good hand.

  His earthy brown eyes darkened with desire and a need she didn’t recognize. Part of her warned, don’t go over there. The other part, her more reckless, adventurous side felt drawn to him and had parts of her body dancing to a music she’d never heard before, leaving her breasts fuller, her breathing quicker, and her mouth aching to search out his once more.

  He was hurt because of her. He was injured, and she needed to keep him warm at all costs, regardless of the fact that she had this urge, this need consuming her. Sitting next to him could have dangerous consequences.

  Slowly, she rose and pulled her bedding closer to his. She sank down on the ground beside him on his good side and threw the blanket around both of their shoulders.

  “See, I don’t bite.”

  “Not yet,” she replied, her voice sounding husky.

  He laughed. “That does feel better. Here,” he handed her the bottle. “Have another drink.”

  “I shouldn’t.” She took a big swig to boost her courage. She was sitting next to Zach, sharing a blanket with him, her hip close to his, her shoulder touching his, and yet it felt right. She handed the bottle back to him.

  “One of us has to stay sober,” she said. “I’m not injured. You are.”

  He shrugged and took another sip. “Oh, so you can wear pants like a man, but can’t drink like a man.”

  She snatched the bottle from his hand and took a big swig. “I can do anything a man can do and probably better.”

  “If you can drink like a man, let’s play a drinking man’s game,” he said. “Are you on?” He watched as she considered his taunt, hoping she would agree.

  “What’s the game?”

  “Every time I take a drink I ask you a question, and you have to confess the truth. Every time you take a swig, I have to answer your question and confess the truth. The last man-woman standing wins.”

  She smiled. “How will you know I’m being honest?”

  “I won’t, but you’re a sincere person, so I’m going to take your word,” he said. But did she play fair? Somehow Zach thought the woman played to win.

  “What about yourself? Are you an honest person?”

  There was so much he wasn’t telling her—one tiny little detail that would send her scooting back across to the other side of the fire, madder than a rabid skunk in springtime. He raised his arms then halted when fire spread through his sore shoulder. “I’m the sheriff. Of course, I’m honest.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Even the law can be corrupt.”

  He shook his head. “Are we playing?”

  “What’s the prize?” she asked.

  “Dinner tomorrow night in town. Whoever wins pays for dinner.”

  “How will we know when the game is over?”

  “Whoever passes out first or whoever cries uncle.” He knew he was weak. The alcohol would affect him much faster than it would a normal person. But Meg was not a big drinker, and hopefully, she wouldn’t last long.

  She grabbed the bottle from his hand and took a swig. “You first. Tell me why you’re trying to take my bounty from me.”

  Zach smiled at Meg and knew he had to keep her off the subject of Simon. He didn’t want to out and out lie to her. He just couldn’t tell her the whole truth.

  With a deep breath, he played into her assumptions. “Even a sheriff has needs that his pay doesn’t cover.”

  “I knew it. You’re trying to earn that five hundred dollar bounty. Why did you let him get away?”

  “He knocked me out cold and disappeared. I had to get back to the jail.” He hated lying to her, but had no choice.

  She handed the bottle to him, obviously satisfied with his story.

  He took a swig of the liquor and let it burn down his throat, leaving him warm. “You don’t dress like a woman. How do you know you can make dresses that other women will want to wear?”

  She smiled, and his heart seemed to melt into one big puddle. When her lips parted and the smile reached all the way to her emerald eyes, he wanted to grab her and make her his. Put a ring on her finger, make passionate love to her, and build them a home.

  How could a woman’s smile create so much havoc within him?

  “That’s easy. Papa caught me drawing a dress and knew I had a good eye for design. He would bring me catalogues whenever he came home, and I would pour over them looking at the latest fashions. Now, whenever we stop in town, I go into the local dressmakers shop and look at her dress designs. I have a collection of ideas, several designs already drawn. If I don’t succeed, then it won’t be because I didn’t try.”

  While she’d been talking, her eyes had a dreamy expression of determination, and he suddenly realized how much she wanted this. This was no spur of the moment consideration; she’d been thinking of this for years. Her whole body had perked up, and he’d seen a side of Meg he’d never realized existed. She was a soft woman hidden beneath a tough exterior.

  “Have you ever sewn a dress before?” he asked, wondering if she really had the talent.

  She smiled. “All of my sister’s clothes.”

  “You know you should design a dress that women could wear while riding a horse. Some kind of split skirt.”

  She gawked at him for a moment. “That’s not a bad idea. I wish I had my pencil and paper. I’d sketch that out right now.”

  He set the bottle down in front of her. She took a deep breath then took a swig of the alcohol. “When did you decide to become a sheriff?”

  His shoulder pounded. He had to be careful how much he told her. Even the tiniest detail could be used against him.

  “I left home when I turned eighteen. Traveled around a bit, doing odd jobs and a little ranching. Quickly, I learned I never wanted to go on another cattle drive again. Then an opening came up as a deputy in San Antonio, and when I received the position, I was thrilled. Now I’m the sheriff of Zenith.”

  “Are you far from your family?” she asked.

  “No, they’re a two-day ride away,” he said. So far, he hadn’t had to lie to her and that felt good. He wanted to tell her the truth, but kept hoping he wouldn’t have to. “My stepfather passed away a couple of years ago, but my mother refuses to sell the small ranch she owns. I check on her often and try to help her when I can.”

  She handed the bottle to him. “That stuff is really starting to work. I don’t think I can feel my legs anymore.”

  He laughed and leaned against her, rubbing his good shoulder with hers. “We’ve still got half a bottle to go.” He took a big swig and shivered. “What’s made you such a capable, determined, stubborn woman?”

  Sometimes there were things that happened in a person’s life that made them a strong person, and he wondered about Meg. Sure, she’d had to be responsible very young, but what else had toughened her?

  She looked at him like he was crazy. “You don’t think taking care of two young girls before you’re old enough to breed and have the responsibility of the farm would make you into a stubborn woman? Have you ever dealt with Mr. Green down at the mercantile? That man would just as soon gyp you as give you what you ordered. I learned at a very young age to watch very carefully as he would short me every time. There were no adults around, and I had no one to depend on. I had to learn.”

  He smiled and handed the bottle back to her. “Ready to cry uncle?”

  She took a swig of the alcohol. “Not on your life. Tell me what you were thinking that day I walked into your office and asked you to marry me?”

  He threw his head back and laugh
ed. He’d never forget that day as long as he lived. When this beautiful young woman had waltzed into his office and asked him to marry her, his heart had almost frozen to a halt. That was probably the biggest shock he’d ever received as sheriff.

  “You about gave me heart failure. I’d never had any woman propose to me, especially after we’d only spoken a few times. Yet, I was intrigued. Why in the hell was a good looking woman asking this dog-eared cowboy to marry her?” Today, he wouldn’t even hesitate. He’d ask where and when.

  She handed the bottle back to him. He took a swig of the drink. “If I had a do over, I would take you by the hand and walk straight out the door to the sin-buster.”

  “You lost your chance, cowboy,” she said, leaning against him to stare up at him, their faces so close together.

  “Don’t count me out,” he whispered, knowing he had no idea where they were headed, but it was somewhere together. “Okay, it’s your turn to answer. Why didn’t you sell the farm and just move to town and get a job, instead of bounty hunting?”

  Meg shook her head. “That’s easy. We tried menial jobs, and we all three got fired. Annabelle wouldn’t accept the owner patting her on the ass. Ruby was almost raped by that stupid Mullens kid, and Ho Chin fired me because I took my wages out of the cash drawer. He wasn’t going to pay me. I had no choice but to take what he owed me.”

  A fierce, protective anger flowed like a river through Zach’s chest. He hated Ho Chinn and now he understood why. The man always seemed to be trying to get something for free.

  “Why didn’t you come to me and ask for my help?” How many other women in town had suffered from these three men? When he got back to Zenith, he’d be paying them each a visit to talk about how they could be arrested.