Read Samantha and the Cowboy Online

Authors: Lorraine Heath

Samantha and the Cowboy (12 page)

He lightly brushed his lips over hers. Then he settled his mouth more firmly against hers. Slowly he skimmed his tongue along the outer edge before circling back to create a figure eight like he'd seen a trick roper do once.

She sighed as she looped her arms around his back. He urged her to part her lips, and when she complied, he eased his tongue into the welcoming abyss. Heat roared through him like a prairie fire left unattended. He deepened the kiss, and her embrace tightened as she released a tiny whimper.

Breathing harshly, as though he'd been running after a stampeding herd, he trailed his mouth along the ivory column of her throat. “Ah, Sam, I'm so glad you're not a boy,” he croaked in a voice that he barely recognized as his own.

“Me, too.”

Lifting his head, he grinned at her. Her lips were swollen, her face flushed. He combed his fingers through her curls.

“I sure know that I'm not looking at a boy now.”

His mouth swept down to blanket hers. He kissed her deeply, hungrily, as though he were a starving man offered a fine feast.

Drawing back, he kissed the edge of her chin, the tip of her nose, her brow. “You're still my responsibility, though. Get some sleep.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Keep watch.”

“Wake me when it's my turn.”

He bussed a quick kiss over her lips. “All right.”

He watched as she settled into sleep, curled on her side, her hand tucked beneath her cheek. He was determined that her turn wouldn't come until dawn.

The first rays of the morning sun danced across Sam's eyelids. With a yawn and a leisurely stretch, she opened her eyes.

Matt lay beside her, his hand clasped around hers. He'd never awakened her for a watch. She wondered when he'd succumbed to sleep. He looked peaceful, the lines in his face not quite as deep as usual.

With a smile, she remembered the kiss he'd given her. And the promise not to reveal her secret to Jake. This morning, she thought the sun shone more brightly and the wind blew more gently. Everything was going to be all right.

She eased her hand out of his. She stood and walked down to the river. Kneeling at the water's edge, she washed the sleep from her eyes. Then she sat back on her heels.

Swimming in a river with no cattle milling in it wasn't frightening. She just had to remember that what had happened at the Red River might never happen again.

And if it did, she'd be more prepared.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Matt walked toward her. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her
feet, then drew her into his arms.

Eagerly, she welcomed his kiss. Her knees grew weak and her toes curled as she wound her arms around his neck. Warmth sluiced through her, chasing away any early morning chill that lingered.

He broke off the kiss and leaned back. “I'm gonna miss that when we get back to the herd.”

His smoldering gaze made her stomach quiver. “Me, too,” she admitted.

 

Crouched at the edge of the group of cowboys gathered around Sam, Matt had an incredible urge to kiss those lips that were spouting the words to Charles Dickens'
A Tale of Two Cities
. The other fellas were engrossed with the book that Cookie had pulled out of the wagon and handed off to Sam to read. Matt figured they'd be a sight more absorbed with the reading if they realized they were listening to a girl.

He still couldn't get over the fact that no one seemed to notice how delicate Sam looked. Of course, she tended to allow a layer of dust to coat her face. But he knew below that dust was a smattering of freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks.

It was pure torment to ride beside her each day, every night, and not be able to hold her, kiss her, or just touch her. Even sleeping next to her was torture. Her gentle breathing was like a lullaby, lulling him into sleep. But
throughout the night, he'd awaken with a start, afraid that he was going to find himself folded around her. Afraid he might do for real what he did in his dreams—hold her close and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

He shifted his gaze slightly as Jake sat beside him.

“You and Sam seem to have mended whatever fences you'd broken,” Jake said in a low voice, as though he knew the men wouldn't forgive him for disturbing Sam while she read.

“Going on that scouting mission sure helped,” he admitted, grinning inwardly with the memory of how much he'd enjoyed being with her away from everyone else. “You need any more scouting done, you just let us know.”

“I prefer to do the scouting myself. I've been hearing tales that the farmers in Kansas are loading up their rifles and trying to stop the cattle from coming through,” Jake murmured.

Matt felt anxiety reel through him. Longhorn cattle tended to carry tick fever. They never came down sick, but the livestock that came into contact with them did. Kansas and Missouri had passed quarantine laws prohibiting cattle from coming through during the summer months when the ticks were active. But they'd be loco to try and herd cattle in winter. “What are we going to do?”

Jake shrugged. “We'll see what happens.” He slapped Matt's back. “We'll hit the river tomorrow.”

Matt nodded. It took a lot longer to move a herd of
cattle than it did to travel on horseback. And it was a lot harder to prod cattle across a river than it was to ride a horse through it. This time, he'd make dadgum certain that Sam stayed by his side.

 

The river that had looked so peaceful three days earlier now churned up the brown water with the cattle's passing. Even riding drag was no guarantee that trouble wasn't waiting to happen.

Matt glanced over at Sam. She was staring at the water with her brow furrowed and her green eyes darkening. Her bandanna hung loosely around her neck. The corners of that luscious mouth of hers were turned down.

“You gonna be all right?” he asked.

She turned her head slightly and gave him a tremulous smile. “Yeah.”

But she looked pale, and sweat beaded above her upper lip. This river was the first they'd had to cross with cattle since she'd nearly drowned and he'd discovered she was a girl. “You want to ride with me?” he asked.

She shook her head slightly and thrust up her chin. “Nope. I'm a trail hand, and hands guide the cattle across the river.”

His respect for her grew. She had true grit, that was for sure. He desperately wanted to reach across and squeeze her hand or plant a kiss on that tempting mouth of hers. “I won't let you drown, Samantha Jane.”

“One of these days, Matthew Hart, I'm going to come to your rescue.” She released a bravado yell and urged her horse down the steep bank and into the deep river.

Matt followed, wondering if she hadn't already come to his aid, rescuing his heart from a self-imposed exile.

During the war, it had hurt to see so many wounded, killed, or taken prisoner. He'd thought it was best not to care…and then he'd spotted Sam.

Although he tried not to, he did care. He cared for Sam a lot.

Long after they'd crossed the river, as night began to wrap itself around her, Sam finally felt the tension easing away as she sat near the campfire. She hadn't been frightened crossing the river, just cautious. Apprehensive. A little concerned that she'd topple off her horse.

But the crossing had gone well. No mishaps at all. Which Jake announced was rare, indeed.

What she couldn't understand was the reason that everyone seemed to be so incredibly wary, as though they didn't quite trust their good fortune. As though at any minute hell would be unleashed.

She studied the cards she held in her hands. Her mother would never approve of her playing poker, but the boredom that twisted its way among the men was as dangerous as any wild steer. She'd seen fights break out simply because one man's shadow had touched another's.

She welcomed any form of entertainment, and if she was very careful, she might not lose much of her earnings. She intended to be very cautious.

“It's too durn quiet,” Squirrel said in a low voice, as though he feared disturbing the silence.

“It ain't the quiet,” Slim whispered. “It's the stillness.”

She expected someone to laugh or make a wisecrack about them worrying like little old maids. Instead, Jed and Jeb just nodded. Even Matt seemed on edge.

“Are you playin' or jawin'?” Sam asked, feigning irritation. The night air did somehow seem different. Thick, almost—oppressive. An air of foreboding loomed over them.

“I'm out,” Matt said, tossing down his cards.

Each fella in turn did the same. Sam gathered up her winnings. All twelve pennies. “What are you fellas fretting over?”

“Stampede,” Matt said, holding her gaze.

“Why borrow trouble?” Sam asked.

“Ain't borrowing it,” Matt said. “Just want to be ready for it.”

“How do you get ready for it?” Sam asked.

His gaze dipped to her lips before he abruptly unfolded his body and stood. “Take a walk with me, Sam, and I'll explain it.”

She set the cards aside and rose to her feet. As he started walking away from camp, she fell into step beside him. The land was hauntingly barren. No trees to speak of. Just miles of prairie grasses.

They walked until they could no longer hear Cookie rattling pans or the murmuring of cowboys. The campfire
was far behind them. Beside her, Matt was only a silhouette. Yet she could feel his intense gaze smoldering as it traveled over her.

“Thought you were going to explain things,” she said quietly.

“Yep.” He stopped walking and faced her. “I have a powerful urge to kiss you, Samantha Jane.”

Pleasure tingled through her from her head to her toes. She heard his sigh float on the gentle breeze.

“But someone with good eyes might see what I was doing—”

“And figure out that I wasn't a boy,” she finished for him.

“Yep.”

A corner of her mouth curled up. “Is that what you wanted to explain to me?”

“I just wanted to be alone with you for a bit. I've never done any real courting. Not sure how to go about it properly.”

Her heart thudded against her chest. “Are you saying you want to court me?”

“I'm saying I'm thinking about it.”

She certainly hadn't come on this drive expecting to find a beau, and she wasn't entirely sure that she had. “Matt, have you ever looked through a window into a store and seen something that you wanted but couldn't have?”

“Sure.”

“And the fact that you couldn't have it makes you
want it that much more.”

“What are you getting at?” he asked.

“I'm just wondering if you're wanting to kiss me or court me because you can't,” she said softly. “I'm like forbidden fruit. Tempting because you can't have me.”

“You think if I could kiss you, then I wouldn't want you anymore?” Matt asked.

The words sounded so silly to Sam coming out of his mouth. “I don't know.”

“Then let's find out.” He pulled her to him.

“Matt! Someone might see—”

His mouth cut off her protest as effectively as a tornado ended a Sunday picnic. He kissed her, slowly, provocatively. She actually imagined she could hear a fiddle humming, but it was just the blood thrumming between her temples. Threading his fingers through her hair, he angled her head slightly and deepened the kiss.

She heard his guttural groan and answered with a moan of her own.

Breathing harshly, he pulled back and released her. He backed up a step. “So much for your theory. I want you more now than I did a minute ago.” He spun on his heel.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To check on the cattle and get my mind off you.”

She watched his retreating shadow until he blended in with the night and disappeared. A burst of distant lightning briefly illuminated the sky, outlining him.

With his head bent, he cut such a lonesome figure. And she wondered if he'd realized what she finally understood.

Whenever he kissed her, a tiny spark of passion ignited into a flame. A flame that could be as dangerous as a brush fire burning across the prairie, destroying all in its path.

She had to stay clear of him. If she didn't rein in the passion smoldering between them, it could destroy all her dreams.

 

Startled awake, Sam felt the thunder long before she heard it. The ground rumbled beneath her, trembling as though it feared at any moment it would crack open and swallow up everything that surrounded it.

“Stampede!” someone yelled.

She sat bolt upright. Beside her, Matt had already pulled on his boots.

“You stay here,” he threw over his shoulder as he took off at a run.

Everyone was scrambling around the camp; those who had removed their britches before going to sleep weren't bothering to put them on now. They were content to run around in their long drawers.

Sam was certain that Matt's order had meant he was getting her horse ready. She pulled on her boots and rushed to the remuda, where cowboys were quickly saddling their horses. She reached for the rope keeping
Cinnamon tethered to the line.

Matt grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “I told you to stay put!”

She wrenched free. “There's a stampede. I can get my horse ready.”

“You're not riding. You stay by the wagon with Cookie.”

Her mouth agape, she stared at him. “What? Matt, you need every rider—”

“What I
need
is not to have to worry about
you!

“I can handle myself,” she assured him.

He shook his head forcefully. “Not during a stampede.”

“What's going on here?” Jake asked, his face a mask of concern, irritation, and dread.

“Sam's staying,” Matt told him.

“No, I'm not.”

“I don't have time to argue, Sam,” Matt said. “You're staying.”

“He's going,” Jake said.

Matt jerked his gaze to Jake. “Sam has no experience handling stampeding cattle.”

“Then he'll get it tonight. Mount up.” He spun on his heel.

“Sam's a girl!” Matt yelled.

Sam felt her dreams come crashing around her as everyone stilled, mouths unhinged, eyes wide.

Jake twisted around so quickly that he almost lost his
balance. “What did you say?”

Matt took a deep breath. “I said that Sam is a girl.”

Jake swore harshly beneath his breath. “Cookie, keep her at the wagon.” He pointed a trembling finger at Matt. “I'll deal with you later.”

He stormed away.

She pounded her fist into Matt's shoulder. “You betrayed me. You promised—”

“We'll discuss it after we get the cattle calmed,” he said reaching for his horse.

“I'll hate you until the day I die!” she yelled as he mounted up.

He looked down on her. “At least I don't have to worry about your dying tonight.”

He twirled his horse about and galloped off into the night.

And all Sam felt was the destruction of her dreams and the shattering of her heart.

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