Kate's Outlaw (Steam! Romance and Rails) (4 page)

"Are we going back?" She craned her neck as if she was trying to look around the next bend. "The path looks familiar."

Jake sighed wearily. Should he tell her where he was taking her? If he did, she might try to run away, and he was too tired to put up with her tricks. "You have a good eye. We passed by here before."

She nodded, apparently taking his answer for yes. He tried not to feel guilty. After all, he was keeping her safe—at least safe from Charley. He wasn't so certain he'd be able to keep his hands off her if she didn't stop moving.

Her hair had come loose from the knot and curls circled her head like a fiery halo. The color and texture was unlike anything Jake had ever seen. He wanted to rub his face in it, but that would arouse him and frighten her and make the journey a misery for both of them.

Growing frustrated, he dropped his hat on her head so he wouldn't keep looking at her hair and wanting to touch it. "Here, wear this to protect your face."

"Thank you. I didn't have the opportunity to collect mine."

His lips twitched, but when she reached up to adjust the hat, his smile quickly faded. Her wrists were so raw they looked blistered. He'd used cloth to bind her hands to avoid damage to her tender skin, but she'd worked hard at escaping her bonds. She’d even ripped his bandana, which was still damp where she'd been chewing on it.

She was a feisty little thing. Not easily frightened, but smart enough to know when fear was her friend. She’d kept her head when other women would’ve gone into fits, and was clever enough to take advantage of his weakness for her. She’d have bashed him in the head with that rock if Charley hadn’t called out—a lesson not to be forgotten.

When he reached the creek, he took the horse into the water and let the stallion pick his way along the shallow bed. Redbird's shoulders tightened as she gripped the saddle horn and leaned over the horse's withers, trying to avoid contact. Was she still scared? Regardless, she would soon be in agony.

He circled his arm around her waist and drew her against him. She resisted, which wasn’t surprising considering he'd made her use him as a saddle the last time. But if he could put up with this uncomfortable attraction, so could she.

"Easy now." He used the same tone he took with fidgety mares. "Relax. I won't hurt you."

"So you say."

"I do say. And I keep my word."

She cast a doubtful frown over her shoulder, yet allowed him to pull her against him. Her hand hovered over his arm. Did she want him to remove it? She surprised him by curling her fingers around his wrist.

He cuddled her close to ease the discomfort of riding double in a saddle meant for one. They rode for a time in companionable silence. That she felt no need to chatter, like some women did, further impressed him. A warm, pleasant feeling settled in the center of his chest. Took him a minute to work out what it was.

Contentment.

His heart jumped like a jackrabbit. What had gotten into him? He could never be content with a white woman. Except, this wasn't just any white woman. She was Redbird.

Her lemony fragrance teased his senses. He leaned forward, and then realized what he was doing and sat back. He must be addled. Didn’t matter if she fit perfectly in his arms, or if she smelled so good he couldn't stop sniffing her hair. She was no sun goddess or even a benign spirit. And she belonged to a rich white man, not a poor Indian.

The thought angered him. That railroad man didn't deserve her if he couldn't take better care of her. "Why did your man bring you along?"

"My man?"

Did he need to clarify? "The one the workers call chief."

"Oh. You must mean Henry Stevens. He’s Chief of Operations, that’s why they call him that. He's not my— I mean, he didn't bring out here. I came on my own.”

Had she been about to deny the relationship? Why?

“He should’ve made you stay home. It's not safe for you to be wandering around alone."

She breathed a soft snort. "They’d be in complete agreement with you.”

"They?"

"I mean, Henry."

Again, she'd stumbled. What was she hiding?

"How long have you belonged to Stevens?"

Her body tensed. "I'm not his possession.”

"But the workers said you belong to him."

"The workers?" She twisted, looking over her shoulder with a frown. "When did you talk to the workers? And why were you asking about me?"

Jake clamped his teeth shut. Why had he let that slip, as well as Charley's name? He really had to be more careful. "Turn around. You're spooking my horse."

She faced forward. "You're avoiding my question."

He wasn't going to admit he'd been spying on the railroad prior to the last payroll theft. "I overheard them talking at the party.”

When she didn't press further, he relaxed. He was still curious as to whether she actually belonged to the railroad chief. What if she wasn't married? Jake capped the notion before it formed. Of course she belonged to Stevens. Why else would she be with him so often? She was lying to protect her husband’s money.

Jake guided the horse out of the creek, staying alert for any sign of pursuit. The forest remained quiet, the birds stayed in the trees, there was nothing to indicate they were being followed. He released his breath, relieved. Charley must’ve headed back to the worksite. That would buy enough time to get Redbird to a place where she'd be safe, yet unable to cause trouble.

Beyond the edge of the woods, the rocky terrain swept into a plateau. Redbird straightened and looked around. "You're not taking me back. We're going the opposite direction."

Too bad she was so observant.

"I never said I was taking you back."

"But you said…" She removed her hand from Jake’s arm. "Where are you taking me?"

She’d find out soon enough. But if he told her and she became frightened she might try to run. The less said, the better. "Somewhere safe."

“Safe? Your partner wants to kill me."

"Nobody's going to kill you."

His assurance must not have relieved her because she didn’t relax.

Troubled, he touched the arrowhead hanging from a leather string around his neck. The powerful totem had belonging to the famous warrior Dragging Canoe and was passed down through his mother’s family. His ancestor had defeated many enemies, some of them in his own clan. Jake refused to believe his cousin would become his enemy, but he wasn't letting Charley hurt Redbird. This time he’d run not because he was a coward, but because he refused to be forced into choosing between them.

"I'll pay you five hundred dollars if you'll take me back.”

Jake's instincts perked up. "
You'll
pay me? Don't you mean Stevens?"

"I can get my hands on the money. Why does it matter where it comes from?"

He was tempted to see how high she would go. But if he traded her she’d be able to identify them, and he couldn’t take that chance. Not until the case was settled, their land was safe and he and Charley were far enough away not to cause problems for their family.

"I can't take you back. Not yet.”

Redbird retreated into sullen silence. He didn't believe for a minute she was accepting her fate. More likely, she was plotting how to escape. Out here, there was nowhere she could go so she could scheme all she wanted.

The sun's rays beat down. Jake used his sleeve to mop the sweat from his forehead. He missed his hat and the heat was getting more intense. His horse had to drink and graze and Redbird probably needed relief. It wouldn’t hurt to stop for a few minutes. He headed for the shade of a river birch overhanging a creek. "We'll stop here, rest awhile.”

He helped her down, and frowned with concern. She was flushed and sweaty. Why hadn't she said something sooner? "You need water. Go get some."

Redbird wobbled over to the edge of the creek and sank to her knees. Once he was satisfied she was following his instructions, he turned his attention to the horse, but kept throwing worried glances over his shoulder.

After getting some water, she hung her head and didn’t move from that spot. He’d better go check on her.

Jake knelt in the grass beside her. He reached over and cupped her cheek. Her face still looked red even though she’d been wearing his hat. Was that normal for a fair-skinned woman? He decided it wasn’t.

“Take off your jacket.”

At her look of alarm, he softened his voice.

"You're getting too hot.”

She eyed him doubtfully, but removed the jacket nonetheless. Withdrawing a dainty handkerchief from her sleeve, she dabbed her face. That wouldn’t do much good.

Jake dunked his bandana in the creek. He took hold of her arm and turned her towards him so he could squeeze water over her forehead and reddened cheeks.

She tried to pull away. He held tight, but this time took care not to bruise her. He didn't want to scare her, but the way she looked was scaring him.

"You'll get sick, if we don’t get you cooled off.” He flipped open the top three buttons of her high-collared shirt, wanted to undo more, but if he started undressing her, he wouldn't be able to stop. Using the wet scarf, he bathed her throat. Beads of water dribbled down the slender column of her neck and collected in a hollow at the base. He imagined putting his lips on that spot and following his hands as he undid her remaining shirt buttons.

Lust ripped through him with the force of a lightning bolt. He thrust the wet rag into the creek. The cold water chilled his hands but did nothing to cool the fever infecting the rest of his body.

Redbird clutched the collar of her shirt and scooted back. Was she worried he would molest her? Only a fool wouldn't be. By now, she had to be aware of her effect on him. 

"Shouldn’t we leave?” She darted an anxious glance at the woods. "In case your partner shows up."

No sense denying what she’d already figured out. "He's at least half a day behind."

"Still…" Her brow knitted.

Charley wasn’t the only man she feared. And her glances at the trees meant she was still thinking about running. She’d be in more danger getting lost in the woods than remaining his captive, despite what she thought. He had to ease her fears, or he’d be chasing after her every time they stopped.

Jake rested his hands on his knees and took what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "Don’t be afraid. I swear I’ll keep you safe, Redbird."

Chapter 3

"Redbird?" Kate’s hand flew to her hair. Lord knows, it’d been compared to worse than a cardinal's bright coloring, but the jest hurt more because it reminded her that all men, even those regarded as savages, found her unattractive.

She smoothed the messy curls and retreated into her only defense—self-deprecating humor. "You shouldn't insult the poor bird. It might take offense."

The devilishly handsome Indian regarded her with that searching look she found so disconcerting. "Redbird is the daughter of the sun.”

What was he talking about, an Indian story?

“Did she look like me?” That seemed unlikely.

He stared at the top of Kate’s head. “The legend doesn’t say what Redbird looked like, but I always imagined she had hair like flames and eyes as blue as the sky vault."

He hadn't used the word beautiful, but the way he described Redbird made her feel that way. Her hand drifted up to her hair again. Had it changed since she’d last seen it? "You…you meant it as compliment?"

"It wasn't an insult.” His gold-flecked eyes burned with a look she didn’t often get from men, especially handsome ones.

She tore her gaze away. "I…I believe I need another drink."

Bending over the gurgling stream, she cupped a handful of water. Why had he stopped at this secluded glen? They did need rest, the horse included, but that wasn't all he had in mind if those heated looks were any indication. He hadn’t threatened her, and in fact acted like he wanted to help. But she didn’t trust he was taking her somewhere safe. After all, lying and cheating were natural as breathing to outlaws.

Was his plan to seduce her? Why else would he be making up names and telling her pretty stories? Perhaps he didn’t enjoy rape and wanted a willing partner. He might even view it as a conquest. After all, how many Indian outlaws, even handsome ones, could claim they'd bedded a rich white woman?

Kate threw a frantic glance at his horse, which was tied up and grazing a few paces away. He’d catch her before she could reach it.

"Are you feeling better?" He sounded concerned, but that might be a ruse to gain her trust so she’d be more easily manipulated.

"Just thirsty." She studied him from the side of her eye. The gun at his side, she could slip it out of the holster if he let down his guard. But how could she get him to do that?

Her heart thudded against her breastbone. What if she acted as though she wanted to be seduced? Then, when he was distracted, she could steal his weapon and take his horse.

No, she couldn’t do it.

Yes, she could if her life depended on it.

What if he tried to overpower her? Could she shoot him?

She’d make him believe she would. Now wasn’t the time for squeamishness. She had to be bold. Calculating. Sly.

Steeling her nerves, she looked at him through her lashes as she'd seen debutantes do when they wanted to bring a man to their side.

He didn’t move.

Was she doing this right? She’d never felt comfortable flirting and disliked being coy. But right now she was desperate enough to try anything.

"So, you…you think my hair is pretty?" She tried not to grimace at how ridiculous that sounded.

He cocked his head. Perhaps he thought she was suffering from heatstroke.

Taking a deep breath to relieve her jitters, she removed the pins from her hair and unwound what was left of the knot. Using her fingers, she combed a mass of curly locks over her shoulder, but kept her eyes averted so he wouldn't see what a basket of nerves she'd become.

"Would you…like to touch it?" Her heart thrummed, the sound reverberating in her ears. Was he remembering how she'd tricked him the last time? He didn't strike her as stupid. This would never work if she didn't convince him of her interest. “I don’t mind.”

H
is fingers brushed hers. Desire crackled through her with lightning swiftness.

She gasped, her
gaze jumping to his face. Thank heavens he was staring at her hair or he’d have seen her alarm and realized she was acting.

He rubbed a bright curl between his fingers, his expression rapt. “Feels like lamb’s wool.”

That was one comparison she’d never heard. “Lamb’s wool?”

His eyes warmed to the color of old gold. “Wool from the first shearing is the softest.”

Delight warmed her skin. Another compliment, and so utterly unique it seemed sincere. Perhaps it was. She stroked her hair in invitation, her hands shaking as his gaze intensified. "What else had you wondered?"

The muscles in his face tightened. Without warning, he fisted a handful of her hair and jerked her to him. With his other hand, he tilted her face, taking her mouth in a crushing kiss. His firm lips ground against hers, insistent, demanding.

Shock held her immobile. What in heaven’s name did she do now? The kisses she’d received could be counted on one hand, and those were more like pecks.

He drew back for the space of a heartbeat and his gaze searched her face, scorching it. He’d realized she had no clue about what she was doing. Had he also deduced her motive?

His arms went around her, and then he bent his head and began brushing his lips over hers until they softened, parted. His tongue flicked over the tender flesh, the light touch sending shivers up her spine. Her breath stalled in her lungs as he kept up the gentle assault, licking, nipping, soothing. Heavens, he wasn’t just kissing her. He was seducing her mouth.

She released a sigh, and he drew it in as if he wanted to capture her very breath, like one of those night creatures she’d read about in Penny Dreadfuls. Using his tongue, he explored and enticed. She trembled from the strange caress, not
revolted, as she might’ve expected, but excited and eager to discover more.

Her acceptance of his kiss seemed to embolden him. He spanned her waist with his hands as if measuring her for a corset
, and his thumbs stroked the underside of her breasts. The intimate touch made them ache, made her want…what, for him to touch them?

No.
She wanted to steal his gun, and had invited this outrageous intimacy so she could escape. How would she know the moment he became unguarded? If only she were more knowledgeable about men. As it was, she'd have to trust her instincts.

She clung to him as he taught her the intricacies of kissing, the rhythm, akin to dancing or fencing, a series of parries and thrusts. A charged current leapt between them
like electricity dancing between two magnets. She knew she ought to push him away, but she couldn't. Her body answered only to this intense attraction.

He broke the kiss, gasping. Had he forgotten to breathe, as well? Her mind reeled from a lack of oxygen. Before she regained her wits, he trailed soft kisses across her cheek, whispering words she didn’t understand. Whatever the meaning, she sensed he was praising her.

Sunlight danced in the leaves above her head and the creek sang near her feet. It was all part of the magic spell he wove, and she didn’t want it to end. She let her head drop back as his lips burned down her neck. His touch awakened every nerve, stirring her from what seemed to have been an eternal sleep. Waiting…waiting…for the kiss that would bring her to life.

He captured her face in his hands, covering her mouth with his as he pressed her down onto the soft grass. The blades felt cool in comparison to her fevered skin. She drank his kisses, intoxicating as her father’s best brandy. Just a taste made her insides melt and sent warmth rushing through her veins.

Sliding her fingers through his hair, she brought him closer. He stretched out on top of her with a groan. She ought to be scared witless, yet she felt strangely in control. He’d succumbed to her, not the other way around. Her breathing quickened as she ran her hands over his shirt, feeling the play of muscles in his shoulders and back. He was made so different from her, and yet they seemed perfectly fitted.

"Redbird," he murmured.

Kate’s heart preened at the moniker, which conjured the image of a fiery-haired goddess.  She loved the way he said it in his southwestern drawl tinged with a hint of foreignness.

He cupped her breast and gently squeezed. Not for the first time was she glad she eschewed corsets. Only her shirt and camisole stood between them, although even that seemed like two layers too many. His thumb found her nipple and he caressed it until it stiffened.

She arched her back as tendrils of pure pleasure snaked through her. How could something so wicked feel so good?

He continued to stroke and play with her breasts until she was gasping for air. Never had she given a man the kind of liberties she was giving him. But then, no man had given her this kind of pleasure. Some part of her—the irrational, rebellious part—wanted to experience it. His fingers went to the buttons on her shirt. Now he’d undress her, then she would feel his hands on her bare skin, feel his kisses…

Yearning became an insistent ache. Desire swelled like waves whipped up by a strong wind, tossing her to and fro. Her whole body shook with uncontrollable tremors.

Passion.
It was exhilarating. Overpowering. Terrifying.

What had made her think she could bend such a powerful force to her will? If she didn’t stop him, she was in danger of being swept out to sea.

Desperate, she grabbed for his gun.

###

Jake reacted instinctively. He clamped his hand over hers the same moment she wrapped her fingers around the handle of his revolver. Surprise swept away the sensual haze. By Thunder, she'd almost done it again, not with a rock this time, but with his gun.

Furious, he wrenched her fingers off the weapon, pinned her hands to the ground, and brought his face to within an inch of hers. "Is
this
how you get what you want?" he snarled.

Her eyes grew round, the black centers crowding out the blue like storm clouds covering the sky. She looked as horrified as poor Redbird of the legend must’ve been when that poisonous snake showed up at her door.

Jake released her and jerked to his knees, muttering.
Crazy
. He had to be. That was the only explanation for why he'd confuse desperate sex with desire. He’d never wanted a woman like he wanted this one, and the way she'd responded to him had convinced him she felt the same way. But she felt nothing—except the need to escape. That’s why she’d lured him into touching her and kissing her, so she could steal his weapon.

His face burned as he got to his feet. How could he be so
stupid?
Damn it, he
knew
better and he'd still fallen for her tricks. Maybe he’d gotten confused because he associated her with some fantasy woman from his dreams. He’d better get his head out of the clouds before she shot it off. Daring her with his eyes, he offered his revolver. "You want this? Come get it."

She struggled to a sitting position, gripped her shirt together. He’d managed to open it to the waistband of her skirt. If she hadn’t lunged for his gun, he would’ve had his hands on her breasts. For a second, he was tempted to toss aside the revolver and take up where they’d left off.

Her chin lifted in a show of bravery, but quivering lips spoiled the effect. "Stop taunting me. You got what you wanted."

“You have no idea what a man wants if you think that,” he ground out. Did she realize how close he’d come to losing control? His body throbbed with unsatisfied need. "Button your shirt.”

Her face flamed, making her pale, freckled skin appear blotchy. Humiliation did nothing for her looks. "I will…if you give me some privacy.”

He snorted. “You want me to turn my back so you can run? My horse doesn't like strangers. Keep that in mind before you try to steal him."

Jake turned around. If she wanted, he’d give her the chance to be foolish. He threw a worried glance over his shoulder to make sure she didn't approach the high-strung stallion. If Thundercloud got spooked and kicked out, she could be injured—or killed.

But she wasn’t going for the horse. Instead, she presented her back while she put on her jacket, fastening the buttons to her chin. He suspected she’d expire from the heat before she took it off again.

Feeling antsy, he scanned the quiet woods. It was bad enough he’d fallen for her tricks, but the longer they tarried, the greater the chance of Charley catching up. His eyes drifted back to the woman, although he’d never really lost sight of her. If she’d let him, he would’ve gorged his senses on her. Kissing her, touching her, tasting her. She was so beautiful, his Redbird.

He gritted his teeth. She wasn't
his
anything.

Needing distance, he stalked after his horse. The paint walked over as Jake approached and he rubbed the velvety nose. "Good boy."

Jake winced. His own words mocked him. He'd behaved worse than a stallion after a mare in heat. If Redbird hadn’t lunged for the gun, he would’ve taken her right there on the grass. And after he'd sworn she would be safe with him. He owed her an apology. Honestly, he owed her more than that, but he could never repay the debt. He couldn't even give her what she wanted—her freedom.