Carol Finch (12 page)

Quinn thought it over and decided the prospect had merit. These two warriors were a great deal like him. They were men whose way of life had been taken from
them. They were also without family ties. Although some clans of the Kiowa and Comanche tribes had accepted their fate and given up the fight to save their dying culture, Red Hawk and Spotted Deer were restless spirits needing a cause and purpose.

They preferred to die in combat rather than lose their pride and rot away on the reservation. To Quinn’s way of thinking he was doing the warriors a favor by allowing them to join ranks. It had to be better than remaining fugitives—waiting for the army to run them to ground and execute them for causing trouble.

It wouldn’t be the first time soldiers followed their take-no-prisoners policy with Indians.

“Then you are hereby deputized as Ranger scouts,” Quinn declared with an expansive wave of his arm. “You have two assignments. The first is to help me identify the white and Mexican banditos for future trial and sentencing. The second is to keep my woman safe from harm.”

His woman?
Damnation, he needed to call her by name instead of placing a possessive label on her. Piper was not his woman and she never would be. He would not bring her down to his lowly level and force her to face the scorn and rejection he had endured most of his adult life. Despite his good intentions, she had come to mean something special to him and he didn’t want to see her hurt, shamed or shunned because of her association with him.

Plus, she was a unique experience for him and he didn’t want his image of her tarnished. There would be at least one sweet memory that he could look upon in the future, something aside from the danger and violence and hatred he dealt with on a weekly basis.

He and Piper had become friends and confidants because necessity demanded it. But when he completed this assignment and delivered her to her sister they would go their separate ways. That was best for her, he assured himself sensibly.

“I really would appreciate it if you wouldn’t exclude me from all your conversations,” Piper commented while she and Lucky brought up the rear of the procession. “What are you three discussing now?”

Quinn studied Piper’s peaked complexion and decided it was definitely time to call a halt. She looked tired and her face was flushed from too much exertion. He had been pushing her too hard and he needed to be more attuned to her needs or she would collapse in exhaustion.

“Well?” she prodded in typical Piper Sullivan fashion.

He grinned at her persistence to be included in conversation. “Our two friends have volunteered to serve as guides for my Ranger battalion,” he replied. “They have no desire to be confined to the reservation.”

“I can identify with that.” Piper pulled a face then stared sympathetically at the Comanche warriors. “Having someone dictate what you can do and where you can go is extremely exasperating.”

The warriors looked to Quinn for translation. “Piper thinks you should be allowed your freedom so you can avoid confinement in Indian Territory.”

The comment earned Piper two wide grins and approving nods from the Comanches.

“You’ve made fast friends,” Quinn assured her. “I think they regret that fiasco this morning, especially since you’ve taken their side.”

A moment later Quinn flung up his hand. “This is a good time to break for lunch. But pemmican and water is all I have to offer.”

Piper’s stomach growled. She had missed breakfast and hunger had left her light-headed for the past hour. “Sounds wonderful.”

She frowned curiously when Red Hawk and Spotted Deer tethered their horses and disappeared into the wild tangle of underbrush on the west side of the mountain. “Where are they going?”

“To find something more appetizing for you to eat, I expect.” Quinn shepherded her toward a flat-topped outcropping of stone and gestured for her to sit down. “When I agreed to deputize the Comanche warriors I insisted that part of their duties was to provide you with protection.”

Piper wrinkled her nose and flung him a withering glance. “So now I’m an inconvenience to them, too? You sure know how to make a woman feel good about herself, Callahan.”

Quinn curled his hand beneath her skinned chin, forcing her head up to meet his wry smile. “I don’t think they mind the extra task all that much. You might be a paleface to them, but they mentioned that they found you appealing to look at.”

“Oh, well, that makes me feel
so
much better,” she said, and smirked. “After all, I have been no more than a trophy and window dressing to my suitors the past few years.”

Her breath stalled in her chest when Quinn leaned down to brush his lips gently over hers. Pleasure over
shadowed her weariness in one second flat. Amazing what the taste of this man did for her sagging spirits.

When he tried to withdraw, Piper looped her arms around his neck and brought his head back to hers. “Not so fast, Mr. Ranger. I need more than a hasty kiss to get me up and moving again.”

Piper kissed him for all she was worth, marveling at how quickly she had become addicted to the taste of him. He was like a thirst-quenching drink, a long-awaited feast. She could get used to kissing him whenever she felt like it.

Would she be just as compelled by him if they shared a bed? she wondered. Would she want more intimacy with him, just as she craved more of his kisses?

The thought whirled off in the wind when he tasted her deeply. She responded instantaneously, enthusiastically. What was there about this man that stirred so many unprecedented sensations and tender emotions inside her? Why was she reaching out to him when she had spent years dodging the unwanted advances of other men? Why did he taste like heaven to her? Why did he draw her admiration and affection without even trying?

Because Quinn Callahan isn’t a man with hidden agendas,
came the quiet voice of insight.
He’s an honest man. Rough around the edges, to be sure. Blunt to a fault, no doubt about it. But he’s solid and trustworthy and competent. Something deep inside him calls to something deep inside you and makes him impossible for you to resist.

The crunch of stone beneath moccasined feet caused Quinn to retreat. Piper turned her head to see the war
riors approaching. Her eyes lit up and she smiled appreciatively when she noticed the red berries they had gathered for lunch.

When Red Hawk extended a handful to her, Piper thanked him kindly then gobbled the treat. The berries were bittersweet but juicy and she eagerly accepted a second helping.

“What are these things?” she asked, pointing to the brown buds mixed in with the berries.

“Peyote buttons. Don’t eat too many of them,” Quinn warned.

“Why not?” she asked between bites.

“They are an Indian remedy for pain and exhaustion that comes from a certain species of cactus. They are also used in religious rituals to provoke insightful vision quests. But some people are highly sensitive to them and they can cause hallucinations.”

Piper popped a third peyote button in her mouth and chewed. “If they relieve exhaustion and sore muscles then I need a strong dose,” she contended. “I don’t want to slow you down.” She glanced up at him. “If you want to leave me here—”

“No,” he interrupted quickly. “This morning was a glaring example of what might happen. I’m not leaving you alone again. This is not negotiable.”

Piper was touched by his concern, but nonetheless she said, “I never intended to become your responsibility. My fate is my own now. No matter what happens I refuse to be on your conscience. You have enough to do without complications I might cause. I told you already that I have accepted the con
sequences of announcing my independence from my father.”

Quinn leaned right in her face and said, “Regardless, I plan to watch out for you so you need to accept that. This is not the time to argue with me, spitfire. Take advantage of your short break because the trail to
El Muerto Cañon
is going to become more difficult. In fact, we just covered the easy part of the path.”

When Quinn strode off to fetch the pemmican, Piper frowned, wondering what had caused the blurry haze in her vision. She shook her head, but it didn’t help. She decided Quinn might have been right about the peyote buttons. They had a strong effect on her, especially when she’d had nothing to eat but a few berries. Suddenly she felt lethargic, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“I think I’ll catch a quick nap,” she mumbled as the world began to spin around her.

Piper didn’t remember much after she said that. She sort of crumpled sideways and would have landed on her head if Quinn hadn’t dashed over to catch her.

Swearing, Quinn gathered her limp body in his arms and listened to her mumble incomprehensibly. He called to Red Hawk to grab the bedroll for Piper to lie on. When he put her down on the pallet, she didn’t move, just sprawled motionlessly.

“How many buttons did she eat?” Red Hawk asked as he stared worriedly at Piper.

“At least three that I noticed.” Quinn brushed the wild tangle of moonbeam-colored hair away from her peaked face.

“Must have been too strong a dose for a paleface’s
first time,” Spotted Deer said as he came to stand beside them. “If the medicine causes her to see and hear things, her outbursts might give our whereabouts away. I for one do not want to make it easy for those vicious bandits to spot us.”

Quinn muttered a few more epithets under his breath. He hadn’t planned a lengthy rest stop, not if he was going to reach the stronghold before dark so he could take a head count and clearly identify some of the gang members. Neither was he going to leave Piper sedated, with only the pup to stand guard over her.

“We’ll eat quickly and Piper can ride with me,” he decided. “I can muffle any outburst the peyote might cause.”

Leaving Piper to sleep off the medication for a few minutes, Quinn wolfed down pemmican, berries and gulped water from his canteen. After he mounted up, Spotted Deer lifted Piper’s limp body to him. Quinn draped her over his lap. Her head lolled against his shoulder for a moment before sliding down his arm.

“Turn her to face you,” Red Hawk suggested. “You can hold onto her better and still maintain control of your horse on the narrow trail.”

With the Comanches’ help, Quinn turned Piper so that she straddled his hips. When her head drooped, Quinn lifted her higher onto his thighs so that her chin rested securely on his shoulder. But it wasn’t until Red Hawk recommended binding her wrists together behind Quinn’s neck that he could effectively hold her unresponsive body upright without fretting that she might catapult sideways and take the short way down the rocky ridge.

With Lucky trailing faithfully behind them, they moved along the trail that demanded cautious footing by the horses. Quinn scowled in frustration. He would like to skin his Comanche brothers alive for bringing peyote buttons for Piper. Plus, the feel of Piper’s full breasts meshed to his chest and her hips gliding suggestively against his crotch with each motion of the horse was giving him fits. He was too close to this beguiling female. Her unique scent was wrapping itself around his senses to such extremes that he couldn’t think straight.

This was not the time or place to become distracted, he reminded himself. There might be posted guards defending the bandits’ hideout. If Quinn was so lost in provocative daydreams about what he would like to be doing while he had Piper this close he might not be able to sense trouble until it was too late.

Difficult though it was, Quinn forced himself to concentrate on the mission at hand and ignore the enticing woman in his arms.

T
hirty minutes later, Quinn finally gave up trying to ignore the arousing effect that holding Piper so close had on him. “Red Hawk, it might be best if you and Spotted Deer scouted ahead.” He reached back with his left hand to retrieve his field glasses from the saddlebag. “I’m at a disadvantage here.”

Red Hawk smiled knowingly as he accepted the spyglass. “But a pleasant disadvantage, I think. Not to worry, Gray Owl. We will lead the way while you proceed at a slower pace.”

Forty-five minutes later, Piper stirred sluggishly and nuzzled her cheek against Quinn’s neck. A bolt of red-hot lust shot straight to his loins when the V of her legs brushed against his erection. The woman was killing him and she didn’t even know it.

When she moaned softly, then pressed a row of warm kisses against his throat and the underside of his chin, Quinn gritted his teeth against the tantalizing sensa
tions flooding through him. The torment he had endured during his first two years of captivity with the Kiowa had never been as maddening as this! It was enough to make a grown man howl.

“Piper, wake up,” he said.

“Mmm,” she mumbled, still showering him with kisses. “I want you. Teach me how to please you.”

He angled his head away to study her droopy-eyed expression and the seductive smile playing on her lips. Lust struck like a lightning bolt, sizzling to his very core. He squirmed atop his horse and muttered succinct curses.

“Damn peyote,” he said, and scowled. “Piper, pay attention to me. You have to remain quiet.”

“I can do that,” she said in a loud whisper. “Kiss me and I’ll hush up.”

Quinn was reasonably certain that the peyote buttons had unleashed every inhibition Piper might have had. She arched suggestively against him, rubbing the pebbled peaks of her breasts against his chest. When she clamped her legs tightly to his hips he nearly came unglued. Hungry need swamped and buffeted him before he could call upon his reserve of self-control and he felt himself arching instinctively against her.

Yep, this brand of torture was the absolute worst he had ever withstood, he realized. Piper was burning him up from inside out and she showed no signs of letting up.

“I said, kiss me,” she demanded a little too loudly.

So he did, if only to shut her up. In a heartbeat she was devouring him. Her tongue mated with his as she pressed her supple body ever closer. She gyrated her hips against his and Quinn muffled a tormented moan.

What she was doing to him was guaranteed to drive a man insane. Quinn broke out in a sweat and his overloaded senses whirled like a pinwheel. Between her provocative gestures and the rhythmic motion of the horse stepping down the steep slope, the lower portions of their bodies kept moving together then apart. He was so hard and needy that breathing suddenly became a voluntary task.

He finally had to admit defeat because he couldn’t muster the willpower to resist Piper’s peyote-induced seduction. He kissed her as if there were no tomorrow. As if there weren’t a stronghold of bandits on the far side of the ridge. As if he had every right to take what Piper offered him and enjoy every delicious moment of it.

He halted the horse and his arms contracted tightly around her. He crushed her against him so tightly that there wasn’t room for a gnat to breathe. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and his body surged urgently against hers. He resented the layers of clothing that separated them. He wanted to possess her completely, to meld his flesh to hers until they were one living, breathing essence lost to the frantic urgency of desire.

“More,” she breathed against his lips. Her bound arms pulled his head back to hers. “I need more of you.”

His lips slanted over hers, devouring her. He was driven by the kind of insatiable impatience he barely recognized in himself. His left hand slid between them to cup and knead her breasts. His right hand dipped beneath the waistband of her breeches to clamp his fingers into the satiny curve of her hip and guide her against his
throbbing arousal. Pleasure coursed heavily through him and he swallowed a groan of unholy torment.

Quinn had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to unleash this raging passion inside him. His male body was straining eagerly toward hers and he felt his tenuous grasp on control slip another dangerous notch.

The world suddenly shrank to a space no larger than they occupied. For this moment out of time nothing mattered except holding her, touching her familiarly and savoring those dewy lips that begged for his kisses. Dozens of heady sensations bombarded him as he caressed her and she responded wildly.

Not so long ago—only a few hours, in fact—Quinn had sworn to restrict himself to an occasional kiss. Now he wondered if he could summon enough self-restraint to retreat before things got completely out of hand. To his dismay, he discovered he couldn’t stop himself from crossing the line and exploring her satiny flesh with intimate caresses.

He marveled at the feel of his questing fingertips skimming inside her blouse to map the soft, feminine contours of her body. Needing more, he loosened the buttons of her blouse, then glided his hand beneath her lacy chemise to make contact with the hard crests of her breasts. And then he dared to taste her there, suckling her, exploring the texture of her skin while his thundering pulse roared in his ears and uncontrollable need blurred his vision.

She whispered his name with a ragged moan and Quinn swore he had never heard a voice so inviting and compelling.

“Please… I need you… I need to touch you….”

Her bound hands pressed against the back of his neck while she fought the restraints. Quinn lifted her arms over his head, then felt her fingertips spearing beneath his shirt to explore the width of his chest. When she arched up and kissed him with the kind of wild desperation that he had never experienced the world all but crumbled around him.

That was when he knew this was the woman he had waited for all his life and never expected to find. She preyed on emotions buried deep inside him, provoked sensations so intense and profound that they made his head spin.

Despite how fiercely and instinctively he was drawn to her this could only be a temporary fascination, he reminded himself realistically. They had nothing in common except this forbidden attraction that made him wish for things that could never be.

She will never be yours, in body or spirit. You are worlds apart. It is only blind lust that makes you wish for what you can’t have. Stop this madness before you complicate your life and ruin hers more than you have already.

Quinn jerked himself upright, turned Piper around on his lap and hooked his arm around her waist to steady her. “Fasten your blouse,” he demanded more gruffly than he intended. Unfortunately tormented frustration was eating him alive. “No more of this nonsense, Piper. I mean it, damn it—”

His voice dried up when she slumped abruptly against him. Her tousled blond head dangled over his
arm and her thick lashes fluttered against her pale cheeks. Cursing a blue streak Quinn fastened her blouse, then took up the reins.

Maybe it was a good thing she had conked out again, he decided. At least he was granted time to regroup and cool down. Damn, what he wouldn’t give for a quick plunge into an icy spring pool!

Holding on to Piper so she wouldn’t pitch off the horse, Quinn quickened the pace. Five minutes later Piper jerked upright and tried to let out a wild shriek. He clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. When she tried to twist away from him, he tightened his grip before she unseated them both. He wrestled with her for several minutes before she finally quieted down again.

Curse it, the peyote was causing weird hallucinations. He made a mental note never to let her touch the stuff again.
Neither
of them could handle it when she was under the influence.

Thankfully, Piper didn’t rouse for another half hour and Quinn was able to make better time. When she did wake up, she seemed to be in reasonable command of her senses once again. Quinn was mightily relieved when she pushed herself upright on the horse and glanced questioningly at him.

“Where are we? The last thing I remember was blacking out.”

Quinn wished that was the last thing
he
remembered. Instead, he was battling erotic memories and feeling immensely guilty for taking advantage of Piper when she wasn’t fully aware of what was transpiring between them.

“We’re approaching the stronghold,” he reported. “Red Hawk and Spotted Owl are scouting the trail.”

Piper swallowed with effort. Then she glanced curiously at her bound hands. “Why am I tied up again?”

“Because I had trouble keeping you on a horse. I had to loop your hands around my neck so you wouldn’t fall off. There isn’t a soft place to land on these rugged crests and I didn’t want you hurt.” He reached behind him to grab the canteen. “You probably need a drink. Peyote usually leaves you with dry mouth.”

Piper eagerly gulped water, and then she heaved an audible sigh. “Remind me never to partake of peyote buttons again. I had the strangest dreams you can imagine.”

“Oh?”

Piper shifted uneasily as wild sensations and brightly colored images flashed through her mind. She decided that her evocative speculations about sharing Quinn’s passion must have gotten tangled up in her dreams while she was sedated. Even now, her body thrummed with pleasure.

If her dreams were this arousing she could only imagine what the reality of unleashed desire might be like.

Someday, before Quinn dropped her off at the garrison and rode away, she would like to find out for certain. It might be the first and last time in her life that she experienced passion, because having known Quinn, she wasn’t sure she wanted to satisfy her growing curiosity with any man but him.

Piper came to attention when she saw Red Hawk and Spotted Deer, leading her horse behind them, appear from a winding ravine. Although her senses were
still groggy she noticed that both warriors were grinning at her for reasons she couldn’t account for.

When Red Hawk spoke to her she waited for Quinn to translate. “They want to know if you feel rested,” he repeated. “They also apologize for giving you those buttons.”

“Tell them I’m feeling much better and that I intend to avoid peyote unless I’m suffering extreme pain.” She frowned disconcertedly. “The dreams caused by that Indian remedy were
unsettling
to say the least.”

An hour later Piper was on her hands and knees, following the Comanches who led the way across the rocky cliff that overlooked the outlaws’ hideout. In the distance she could see two dozen men, whiskey bottles in hand, lounging outside their adobe headquarters. A makeshift corral, filled with stolen cattle, was butted up against the perpendicular canyon wall to the east. Another pen, erected two hundred yards to the north, held a herd of horses. Also stolen, she suspected.

It looked as if the bandits were celebrating another successful robbery. Piper squinted into the setting sun to survey the gang members who were both Mexican and white. She recognized three of the men from the stage holdup.

When she glanced over at Quinn, she noticed that he was flat on his belly, staring through the field glasses. “There’s only one way into this canyon,” he murmured as he carefully surveyed the encampment. “Posted lookouts are at the south entrance. It would be impossible to send a strike force of Rangers into the mouth of the canyon without risking numerous casualties.”

“Then how are you going to capture them?” Piper asked worriedly.

The prospect of Quinn being wounded during the skirmish did not set well with her. She suddenly found herself wishing he had a safer profession. Like an accountant at her father’s shipping office.

Piper silently chuckled at the absurdity. Quinn would go stark raving mad if he were confined to the cramped spaces of an office because the wilderness had been his domain most of his life. He was accustomed to mobility, dangerous adventure and constant challenges. Plus, he would have to alter his manner of dress to fit into society and she suspected he would find that as unpleasant as having a hangman’s noose wrapped around his throat.

Her gaze settled on him again, marveling at his ability to focus on his task of reconnoitering the bandits’ nearly invincible fortress. She swore not a single detail of the area or the roaming gang members escaped his notice. He was making mental notes again, just as he had done immediately before and during the stage robbery. No doubt, the knowledge that his colleagues’ lives would be in jeopardy prompted Quinn to be thorough and conscientious.

She turned her attention to Red Hawk and Spotted Deer, noting they wore the same look of profound concentration as they looked at the canyon that was once a sacred burial ground. They had a vested interest in routing these bandoleros, and they were paying strict attention to detail as well.

Piper decided this was the perfect opportunity to practice her skills of observation.

She had recently discovered that paying close attention to your surroundings was crucial, especially in this barely civilized part of Texas. If she was going to be able to fend for herself at the fort, she would need this skill.

Piper was thoroughly convinced that what she couldn’t learn from these three experienced men she probably didn’t need to know when it came to survival.

She was training with the best.

Only when darkness blanketed the valley and the echoes of rowdy laughter and drunken voices filled the air did Quinn give the signal to retreat. He grabbed Piper’s hand and led her into the rock-filled ravine, then towed her up the steep grade to reach their waiting horses.

Lucky barked and whined to show his displeasure at being tied up and left behind. When Piper walked over to release the mutt, Quinn shook his head.

“We need to keep Lucky on the leash until we’re a few miles from the stronghold. The last thing we need is for the bandits to realize they were tracked to the canyon. We’ll make camp in a couple of hours, if you’re up to the ride.”

Even if Piper had been dead on her feet and half-starved, she wouldn’t have objected. She wasn’t about to be the cause of another delay. In addition, Quinn had become very businesslike since she had awakened to find herself riding double with him. She wanted to attribute the emotional distance she felt between them to his single-minded focus on his assignment, but she sensed that something else was bothering him.