Nevada Heat (16 page)

"Now, that ain't so. Why, me and Dave —“

Birdwell's lips twitched. "Oh, you're willin' to drink with 'em, but whenever somebody starts layin' out a new plan, linin' men up for the job, you boys up and leave."

Buck opened his mouth then snapped it shut.

"Yep," Birdwell said as he settled in for a short nap. “I find that real interestin'."

#

Serena lay exhausted on the narrow bed, her fingers moving over her son's wrinkled flesh as if to convince herself he was real. Miranda took a step back into the shadows, not wanting to intrude on such a special moment. Helplessly her gaze flicked to Jesse.

He stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes locked on Serena and the baby. His arms were crossed over his chest and a soft smile curved his mouth. Miranda's heart thudded painfully in her breast. Her throat closed with the varied emotions swamping her. Relief that it was over and Serena and the baby were fine. Excitement and awe at what she had just witnessed, and most of all an overwhelming tenderness for the man standing only a few feet from her.

Jesse felt the power of her stare and turned to look at her. Her lips trembling, her eyes awash with unshed tears, she held herself rigidly, as though afraid to move. And he understood what it was costing her. He, too, had been struggling against the need to hold her, to feel her warmth pressed against him. To lose himself in the joy of what he'd just accomplished with the one person he'd shared it with.

With the woman who'd given him the strength to do it. In the soft candlelight, Miranda's hair shone and sparkled. The freckles across the bridge of her nose and over her cheeks stood out sharply against her pale skin. But it was her eyes that finally touched him. The moment he looked into those shimmering pools of turquoise, he was lost. And for the first time since he'd met her, Jesse didn't try to fight it.

Slowly, half-afraid that she wouldn't come, he uncrossed his arms and opened them out toward her. Without hesitation, Miranda went to him, sliding her arms about his waist, laying her cheek against his chest. Jesse's arms closed around her, his hands smoothing over her back, pressing her close against him.

He smiled and rested his chin on top of her head. Her racing heartbeat in time with his and he closed his eyes to savor the sweetness of Miranda in his arms.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and leaned her head back to look up at him. Jesse opened his eyes and waited.

"It was all so amazing," she whispered. "And so…""

"Terrifyin'?"

She grinned. “A little. But you weren't scared, were you?"

He snorted, tightened his hold on her, and let his head fall back. “I never been so scared in all my life."

"Really?"

He raised his head again and looked down at her. "Really." For a moment his gaze shifted to Serena and her son, still totally wrapped up in each other. "What if somethin' had gone wrong? What if —“

Miranda reached up, cupped his cheek and forced him to look back at her. “But nothing went wrong. Because of you."

"No." He shook his head wearily. “Had nothin' to do with me. All I did was catch the little fella when he come out." Unconsciously he moved his fingers over her back again, caressing her, stroking her flesh with an unspoken need. Even through the heavy white fabric of her shirt, Jesse felt the warmth of her and greedily drank it in, allowing her heat to fill up all the cold, empty places inside him. "'If there'd been a problem or somethin'…"

"You would have solved it."

Jesse shook his head, stunned at her belief in him. Why was she so sure of him? Why did she think so much more of him than he himself did? What was it she saw when she looked at him? And why did it mean so much to him?

"You were wonderful, Jesse."

He smiled self-consciously. "Serena did all the work."

“I don't mean that." She kept her voice in a whisper. “I mean, how gentle you were with her. How kind. You were able to help her when no one else could." Her gaze moved over his face. “I wouldn't have been any help to her at all."

“That ain't so, but it don't matter." His fingers moved up to the back of her head and slipped into the loose braid of her hair. His other hand moved to caress her cheek. “You helped me, Miranda. Prob’ly more than you'll ever know." He bent down and placed a soft, feather-light kiss on her forehead. His own heartbeat threatened to strangle him with its frantic pounding. Jesse read the desire in her eyes and all sensible thought fled. He forgot where he was. He forgot about the woman lying in her childbed only a few steps away. He forgot about Ezra and Birdwell and Indians. He let go of everything in the world except the hunger in Miranda Perry’s eyes.

Slowly, determinedly Jesse bent lower. Miranda reached up, tilting her head for his kiss. Only a breath away… a loud crash and thud from the other room broke the spell and they almost jumped apart.

Jesse took one last look at Miranda. Her chest heaved with her effort to breathe and her erect nipples pushed against the fabric of her shirt. Groaning, he turned away, walked to the closed door, and threw it open. Jesse felt Miranda right behind him and heard her sigh heavily at the sight that greeted them.

Ezra lay on the floor, his arms and legs outstretched, his mouth hanging open and his gray hair spread out in a halo around his head. The nearest table was overturned and an empty whiskey bottle rolled noisily across the wooden floor. Even as they stood and watched the man an ungodly snore ripped from his throat, shattering what was left of the quiet, almost magical night.

Disgusted, Jesse took a step toward the fallen man, then stopped and looked over his shoulder at Miranda. “I’ll take care of him. You go and see if you can get Serena to sleep some."

As the door slowly closed between them Jesse bent down, slid his hands under the other man's arms, and began to pull. "Ezra," he mumbled tightly, “I don't know whether to shoot ya or thank ya."

#

Jesse leaned against the porch rail and stared up into the night. His jaws hurt from smiling and he knew he must look like a fool, grinnin' at nothin', but he couldn't seem to stop. Glancing down, he looked at his outstretched hands and saw in his mind's eye the newborn baby, kicking and screaming.

And then Miranda's body cradled close against him. He shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. Jesse inhaled deeply, pulling the cold night air into his body, then releasing it in a rush. As long as he lived, he'd never forget that night.

A low-pitched, rumbling snore sounded out from behind him and Jesse chuckled. Poor Ezra wouldn't be forgetting it either. And after everything that had happened, Jesse found he couldn't even stay mad at the old drunk. He looked over his shoulder through the front window. The older man lay on his back, his legs dangling over one side of the old armchair, his head over the other. His mouth hung open, and when he inhaled, the rattling noise came again.

Jesse reckoned the Indians and the baby had been just too much for ol’ Ezra's nerves.

Looking east, Jesse saw the first pale stirrings of dawn beginning to color the sky. Soon the men and women on the cliff would be facing who knew how many Indians. And he couldn't go to help. Even if Ezra was awake, Jesse would worry about Serena and Miranda. But with the older man sleepin' off a drunk, there was no way Jesse could leave.

Behind him, the cabin door opened slowly. Hinges screamed briefly in protest before the door was shut again.

Miranda. Jesse clenched his teeth. If it was hard before, keeping his eyes and hands off the woman, it was going to be far more difficult now. All he wanted to do was hold her again. Feel her snuggling close. Taste her mouth again and again until he was filled with her, then start all over.

“Jesse?” She stepped up behind him and laid one hand on his arm.

He felt her touch all the way to his soul. It took a moment for him to steady his voice before he could answer.

"Serena all right?"

“Yes.”

She moved in closer. The scent of her flowery perfume teased his nostrils. He could feel the warmth of her body beckoning to him. When her head leaned against his shoulder, it was all he could do to stand still. He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.

"She's sleeping.” Miranda sighed and he saw the faint puff of breath in the cold air.

"The baby?"

"He's wonderful. Sound asleep in Serena's arms."

Jesse felt her smile.

"Before she fell asleep," Miranda whispered, "Serena told me what she's going to name him."

"Pike Junior?"

"No." She leaned back and watched his face in the half-light. "His name is Jesse."

He swallowed heavily. He hadn't expected anything like that. A swell of pride filled him. He gritted his jaw and stared off at the distant horizon. In a tight voice he muttered, "She didn't have to do that."

"She wanted to."

He snorted. "Wonder what Pike'll have to say about it."

"When he hears what you did for his wife, he'll agree."

Jesse took a half step to the side. He had to escape the scent of her. She was too close. He had to keep some space between them. She followed. Pushing past his stiff arms, Miranda moved up against him and encircled his waist, her hands spread wide over his back. He didn't move. He couldn't. He wasn't even sure he could breathe.

"Jesse?"

She was looking up at him. He felt her breath, warm and soft against his neck. "What?"

Her hands moved over his back and everywhere she touched became a white-hot flame, searing his flesh with a need so strong it threatened to suffocate him.

“Jesse, don't you want to kiss me?"

He swallowed the groan before it escaped, but couldn't suppress a shiver when her fingers moved to the top button on his shirt. Jesse snatched at her hand and held it firmly in his own. "Don't, Miranda."

"Why?" Her breath fanned his cheek.

"You don't know what you're askin', woman." He looked down at her and fought against the invitation in her eyes. “If you did, you'd run like hell. Now."

She shook her head. “All I'm asking for is a kiss. The kiss you would have given me earlier if not for —“

"Ezra," he finished. “And thank God for him." Jesse struggled to talk past his constricted throat.

"One kiss, Jesse." She slipped her hand free of his and ran the flat of her palm over his broad chest. “Just a kiss. What could be the harm in that?"

Jesse's breath came in tortured gasps and he knew as well as she did that he wouldn't refuse her. That he couldn't refuse her any more than he could stop the sun from rising. God help him, he didn't want to refuse. He wanted to feel alive again. And in the last two years, the only place he'd felt alive was in Miranda's arms.

For one fleeting moment he tried desperately to remember why he shouldn't have a damn thing to do with her. He tried to remind himself that a woman had no place in the life he'd been forced to live.

Then Miranda's lips curved in a sweet, knowing smile. His arms shot out and pulled her to him, wrapping her body as close to his own as he could. While her lips were still parted in surprise at his sudden movement, Jesse's mouth covered them. Eagerly, hungrily his tongue explored her mouth, tasting, caressing. He leaned back against the wooden post, his arms tightened, and he lifted her from the ground, leaving her moccasined feet dangling. Jesse felt Miranda's fingers weave through his hair, but all he concentrated on was her tongue darting quickly against his.

Her fast, shallow breath mingled with his own and he tore his mouth free of her lips suddenly and began to kiss and nuzzle the length of her throat. With one strong arm curved under her bottom, Jesse held her steady while his other hand moved around to her shirtfront and speedily undid the buttons.

As the white shirt fell open Jesse's heartbeat staggered. In the soft predawn light, the lace of her ivory chemise shone against her honey-golden flesh. He paused for a moment and looked up at her. She'd braced herself with her hands on his shoulders and now she chanced upsetting her balance by reaching to smooth a lock of hair back from his forehead. Her touch was as soft as the scent she wore and even more bewitching.

Jesse's gaze moved from her face to her elegant throat and neck and fastened on the sheer chemise that lay between him and what he sought. Slowly, tenderly his fingers moved up from her waist, over her ribs. She inhaled sharply as he skimmed the flat of his hand over her breast. Her nipples strained against the silky material, aching for his touch. Jesse gently pushed the fabric aside and cupped her breast. His thumb moved lazily over her erect nipple and his own body echoed the shudders that rippled through Miranda.

As her fingers tightened in his hair he brought her closer. Starting at the base of her throat, Jesse's lips and tongue moved over her heated flesh, leaving a trail of damp fire. His own desire mounting with every passing moment, Jesse heard Miranda moan when his mouth closed over her nipple. As his tongue moved over the small, erect bud, Miranda jumped in response and he held her even tighter. His arms were like iron bands, holding her to him as though he would never let go. Slowly, deliberately he began to suckle at her breast and the dull throbbing ache in his groin tripled in strength.