Winter Fire (17 page)

“That's what Conner said when you told him to wear a jacket a few weeks back. And what happened?”

“He didn't take it,” Sarah retorted.

“And then he come back home with his tail tucked between his legs, half-froze solid.”

“I'm not Conner.”

“Hell, gal, course you ain't. He can't carry a kid in his belly.”

Sarah grabbed Lola's hand, slapped the small leather pouch into it, and let go.

The older woman shrugged and tucked the small leather pouch into her pants.

“You change your mind, just holler,” she said.

Sarah nodded, but as she did, she couldn't help thinking that there were worse things than having Case's baby.

A lot worse.

 

“Sarah, you awake?”

Ute's soft call brought her awake in a rush that left her heart pounding.

“What is it?” she whispered. “Raiders?”

“No. It's Case.”

“What's wrong?”

“He tossing and groaning in his sleep fit to wake the dead.”

She thought quickly. She hadn't seen Case since yesterday afternoon, when he had walked out of the cabin while the rest of them were admiring the ancient pottery.

“Is he sick?” she asked.

“No, ma'am. Just real restless like. Calling out names and such.”

Just like the fever dreams
, she thought.
Is he calling for his precious Emily again?

“Wake him up,” she said.

“No, ma'am,” Ute said emphatically.

“Why not?”

“Last time I woke a fighting man up when he was a tossing and a groaning, he durn near killed me 'fore he come to his senses. But Case wouldn't harm nary a hair on your head, no matter what.”

“All right,” she said, throwing aside the covers. “Is Conner up on the rim?”

“Yes'm. That's how I come to hear Case. I was passing his camp on my way back in.”

“Go get some sleep. I'll see to Case.”

“Uh, ma'am?”

“What?”

“You might talk to him first, real quiet like, 'fore you go grabbing his shoulder.”

“I've worked with wild animals before,” she said dryly.

Ute's laugh sounded like two handfuls of gravel being rubbed together.

Sarah pulled on her clothes, grabbed a jacket, and hurried out into the night.

Overhead the sky was an explosion of silver and black. The beauty of it held her spellbound for several heartbeats. Her breath came out in a wondering sigh that turned
to silver and rose toward the glittering vault of the night.

Then the cold bit through her jacket, doeskin shirt, and doeskin pants. Shivering, she set off toward the clump of big sage where Case had set up his “camp.”

Ute was right.

Case was thrashing and turning and muttering words. The incoherent sounds were barely louder than the crackle and creak of the tarpaulin he slept on.

Yet Sarah was certain that Emily's name was the one most often spoken.

Cautiously she approached him. She longed to gather him in her arms and soothe away whatever was causing his wild sleep. She had done the same thing many times for Conner in the years after the flood killed their family.

But instead of touching Case, she sat on her heels just beyond his reach. He was a fighting man who had fallen asleep alone, outside the cabin. If anything grabbed him, he wouldn't expect it to be a friend.

“Case,” she said gently. “It's Sarah. You're all right. I'm here. You're safe, Case. It's all right.”

She repeated the words many times, using her most soothing voice, the one Case had described as sunlight and honey.

After a time he stopped twisting and turning in the covers. He was still restless, but he no longer twitched and jerked like a wild animal caught in a trap.

“That's it,” she murmured. “You're all right. No one is going to hurt you. I won't let them.”

She eased closer to him, talking softly the whole time. What she said was a mixture of sense and nonsense, a soothing flow of sound that reassured him on a deeper level than words alone could.

When she stroked his hand, he sighed raggedly. His arm closed around her and he pulled her toward him.

“Emily,” he said in a blurred voice. “Thought you were gone. Snuggle in here and go to sleep. Uncle Case will keep the ghosts away.”

Sarah was too surprised to pull back when he smoothed his hand tenderly over her hair, tucked her head against his chest, and pulled the bedroll covers up over both of them.

There was nothing sexual in his manner. It was as though she were a child rather than a woman.

Uncle Case?
she thought, stunned.
Is his beloved, lost Emily his niece?

Sarah started to wake him and tell him that she wasn't Emily. The utter relaxation of his body stopped her. No longer was he restless, mumbling, struggling against something only he could see. His body was relaxed, supple.

He sighed deep and long, cuddling her to his side. Then the rhythms of his breathing slowed, telling her that he was fully asleep.

For a time she listened to his heartbeat beneath her cheek and watched the glory of the stars where a corner of the blanket had slipped down. The cold of the night was held at bay by Case's sheer warmth. It was like curling up next to a fire that never had to be fed.

A deep breath brought the scent of sage and wool and man into her nostrils. She sighed and snuggled even closer, loving the feeling of his arm around her, his hand cradling her cheek, and his breath warm in her hair.

The heat of him seeped all the way to her core, relaxing her so completely that she felt almost dizzy. Not since the hurricane destroyed her family had she felt so much at peace with life.

I should go back to the cabin, she thought sleepily. Case is fine now
.

Reluctantly she began to withdraw from the tranquillity and warmth of the shared nest.

His arm tightened around her, holding her in place.

“Case?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

He didn't answer. Nor did the rhythm of his heartbeat or breathing change.

She waited until his arm relaxed. Then she tried again to leave.

His arm tightened again. He murmured something and moved restlessly.

“Hush,” she said soothingly. “It's all right. I won't leave.”

For a while
, she amended silently.

Sighing, Sarah settled in to watch the splendor of the stars wheel slowly through the opening in the blanket.

She didn't try to leave a third time. She fell as deeply asleep as Case.

C
ase awoke
before dawn. It was an odd sort of waking for him, slow and lazy rather than quick and dangerous. A feeling of calm, of rightness, was inside him as deeply as his heartbeat.

Lord
, he thought sleepily.
It's been a long time since I felt Emily's little body putting my arm to sleep
.

Wonder what she does for nightmares when Uncle Case isn't around?

Abruptly he realized that, while his arm was asleep, it wasn't from a child's weight.

There was a woman's resilient softness pressed against his side. There was a woman's long, thick hair lying silky against his neck. Each breath he took was infused with a woman's warmth.

And roses.

Sarah
.

His eyes came fully open. The inky outline of sage boughs was overhead. In the openings between branches, stars glittered. The moon had set. Dawn was a faint whisper of pink in the east.

What the hell is she doing out in the brush with me?
he thought.

The quickest way to find out was to wake her up and ask her. He started to do just that. He got as far as pulling
the blanket down to her shoulders, and then he forgot why he was in such a blazing hurry to disturb her.

Starlight washed gently over Sarah's face. Lack of sunlight quenched the gold and red in her hair, but the silkiness of it shone like black water. Her eyelashes were so long they rested against her cheeks. Her mouth was full, relaxed, slightly curved, almost smiling.

Thoroughly tempting.

I shouldn't
, he thought as he bent down.

He stopped.

At least, he thought he had stopped. Then he found that he could no more resist her than a moth could turn away from the incandescent lure of flames.

She's a fire in the middle of winter
, Case thought.
God, I've been cold so long
…

His lips brushed over hers, sipping at the gentle curve of her sleeping smile. His fingers eased carefully, completely into her hair, seeking the warmth beneath the cool strands. When he could get no closer to the heat of her, he held her head cupped in his hands, warming himself.

Sarah sighed and moved her head slightly, as though savoring the feel of his hands.

A shiver that had nothing to do with cold went through his body. It was desire and something more, something frightening stirring beneath the years of bleak denial.

But desire was the only thing Case admitted to feeling.

Desire was something he understood all too well since coming to Lost River ranch.

Slowly, gently, he shifted until Sarah was lying half beneath him. When the blanket started to slide away, he caught it with his teeth and dragged it back over both of them so that she wouldn't get cold and wake up.

There was no danger that he would notice the bite of the winter dawn. The scent and feel and taste of her were burning him alive.

His fingers went to the laces of her buckskin shirt. He pulled first one lace through a hole, then the other.

I shouldn't
, he thought despite the hard, heavy running of his blood.

Yet even as he told himself not to, he eased each lace through one more hole.

Her skin gleamed like a pearl in the mixture of starlight and softly growing dawn.

The hell with should or shouldn't
, he thought.
If she didn't want this as much as I do, she wouldn't be here
.

Surely a widow knows how a man wakes up in the morning
.

That's why she came crawling under my covers while I was asleep. She knew I wouldn't make the first move, so she came up on my blind side
.

All I'm doing is returning the favor
.

Case was surprised to find that the lacing on the shirt went down all the way to Sarah's navel, but he wasn't complaining. He smoothed the flaps of doeskin aside and pulled back to see her better.

I'll just look at her. That's all. There's no harm in seeing her
.

She was silver and dusk and softly gleaming curves. A satin shadow lay between her breasts. Velvet darkness gathered at their tips, responding to the cold air flowing beneath the blanket.

He stifled a groan of raw desire.

My God. I could spend myself just looking at her
.

But he couldn't stop looking at her any more than he could stop wanting to feel and taste and explore the softness he had just uncovered.

He lowered his face between her breasts and took a deep, deep breath.

It was like breathing a silky kind of fire.

He stroked his forehead against the firm slope of one breast, then the other. When he discovered a velvety nipple, he lifted his head. His lips opened and his breath sighed out around her.

With a hunger that was all the greater for his restraint,
he drew the tip of her breast into his mouth. Licking, sucking, savoring, he shaped her into a velvety hardness that rubbed against his tongue, begging for more.

I've got to stop this
, he thought.
I can't give her what she wants along with the sex
.

Hearth, home, children
.

He lifted his head and saw her breast taut and pouting in the starlight.

But God knows I can give her body what it hungers for
.

And God knows I'm fool to even think about it
.

He didn't know how much of a fool he was until he tasted the velvet texture of her nipple again, warming the sweet female flesh, shaping it with his mouth, drawing it even tighter.

Hunger raced through him like thunder, shaking him. Even as he bent his head to her other breast, he wondered if he could stop at all. There was even sweeter, hotter flesh waiting to be discovered, touched, cherished.

He needed that. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.

Sarah made a sleepy, throaty sound. She moved beneath Case, back arching slightly, both giving herself to him and demanding more of his loving.

The motion was elemental, sensual, provocative, but she didn't know any of that. All she knew was that she was lying beneath a beautiful, hot sun while liquid rays of warmth caressed her lazily, wonderfully.

It made no sense, but then, dreams weren't supposed to.

All that mattered to her was that she was safe within the sensuous embrace of the dream. She knew it with a certainty that was greater than anything else, even the pleasure spreading through her body in slowly expanding rings.

Without warning a hot rain of delight coursed through her. She arched slightly in primitive reflex, giving herself
to the beauty of the sun's penetrating, caressing heat.

Distantly she realized that her shoulders were cold and her breasts were bare and wet and someone was breathing in tiny, ragged whimpers. She tried to stay within the dream…

And then she sat bolt upright.

She had just realized that it wasn't the sun between her legs. It was a hand.

A man's hand.

Case muffled Sarah's attempt to scream the fastest way he could. His mouth covered hers so thoroughly that only a small cry escaped.

He assumed that she would stop struggling when she realized where she was, and who was kissing her, and why. After all, she had been the one to come to him.

But she went after him like a wildcat, kicking and clawing with every bit of her strength.

He twisted until he lay heavily on her, pinning her legs to the ground. Then he caught her hands and dragged them together. Holding both of her wrists with one hand, he lifted his head just long enough to cover her mouth with his other hand.

“Sarah, it's me, Case,” he said softly.

Her narrowed, glittering eyes told him that she didn't care who the hell he was.

“Sarah!” Conner called from thirty feet away. “What's going on?”

She jerked beneath Case, but he didn't give an inch. He covered her the way he had when they were in a rocky alcove and the Culpeppers were right below.

“Are you all right?” her brother called. “Sarah!”

“Just a bad dream,” Case called softly. “She's fine. No need to wake the dead.”

“What's she doing out here?” Conner asked, his voice low.

Sarah and Case looked at one another.

“If you start screaming,” he said in a low voice,
“there's going to be a lot of explaining to do—starting with why you crawled into my bed if you didn't want just what I was giving to you!”

She went still. Belatedly she remembered where she was, and why.

“Sis?” Conner called quietly. “Are you sure you're all right?”

Case lifted his hand.

“Nothing is wrong,” she whispered.

“What?” her brother asked.

“I'm fine,” Sarah said more loudly.

“What are you doing out here? Is Case sick?”

Case's black eyebrow lifted in sardonic query.

“Am I sick?” he mouthed silently.

“When Ute came in from his watch, he said Case was thrashing and groaning,” she said. “I came out to check on him.”

Surprise showed for an instant on Case's face. Then his expression became as hard as the cliffs rising out of the dawn.

“That was hours ago,” Conner said. “I'm coming in from watch myself.”

“I fell asleep,” she said.

“Oh.” Conner hesitated. “Are you going back to the cabin now?”

She had a stark vision of what she must look like at the moment, with her shirt undone and her pants around her knees.

“Go on without me,” she said through her teeth.

“Are you sure?”

“Conner, for heaven's sake! Do you want to walk me to the privy personally, or can I have just a wee bit of privacy?”

“Oh, sure. Sorry. I just…”

“I know,” Sarah said, her voice gentle. “I shouldn't have snapped. You know how quick off the mark I am when I first wake up.”

“Especially after a nightmare,” Conner said.

She didn't correct her brother's idea of who had been the one with bad dreams.

“Go on,” she said. “I'll be along in a minute.”

“Should I start the fire?”

“No need. Just go to sleep. I'll take care of the morning chores.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Conner withdrew toward the cabin.

When she could no longer hear any trace of her younger brother's presence, she looked directly into Case's eyes.

“Get off me,” she said through her teeth.

Without a word he rolled aside. He watched her warily, as though uncertain of what she might do next.

Blood welled from a nick just beneath his eye.

“Have the decency to turn your back while I dress,” she said bitterly.

“Climb down from your high horse,” Case said, his voice even. “I'm not the one who came crawling into your bed.”

But even as he spoke, he rolled over and turned his back on her.

“I didn't come ‘crawling into your bed,'” she said angrily. “You were having a nightmare.”

“I don't remember any dreams.”

“You were twitching and jerking and thrashing like a wolf in a trap.”

“Doesn't sound real inviting to me,” he drawled.

“Ute didn't think so, either.”

“But you crawled right in.”

“No,” Sarah said, yanking the last lace tight. “You dragged me in.”

“I suppose Ute saw that, too.”

She started pulling her underwear and pants up. At first she thought the slick heat between her legs meant that her
monthly had come early. But there was no dark stain of blood. Simply a steamy, scented moisture.

“What did you do to me?” she asked, startled.

Case looked over his shoulder. There was a vision of dense auburn curls and pearly skin vanishing rapidly into worn doeskin pants.

Hunger hit him like a fist, making it hard to breathe.

“You were married,” he said roughly. “What do you think I did to you?”

“If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, would I?” she snapped.

For a moment he thought she was joking.

Then he saw the wariness in her eyes. She was fastening her pants as though her body belonged to a stranger.

Case didn't know what to say.

“Oh, never mind,” she muttered. “I shouldn't have let you tuck me in next to you like a child. Then I went and fell asleep. I suppose I had it coming, whatever you did to me.”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out but silence.

She jumped to her feet, grabbed her jacket, and pulled it on. As she did, she flinched slightly. Her nipples were still hard, still very sensitive.

She looked puzzled by that, too.

So did Case.

Absently he brushed the stinging skin near his eye. The drops of blood that came away on his fingertip testified to Sarah's speed and aim with her nails.

The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly.

“You're a hellcat with those fingernails.” he said.

“Practice makes perfect,” she said, her voice icy.

His eyes narrowed.

“The next time you have nightmares about your niece,” she said in a clipped voice, “you can damned well have them by yourself.”

“My niece?” Case asked, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“It will be tough telling you,” she drawled sarcastically, “seeing as how you told me never to say her name again.”

“Emily?”

“That's the one.”

She started for the privy.

“How do you know I was dreaming about her?” he asked.

Pausing, Sarah looked over her shoulder.

“Do I take that as permission to say the sacred name?” she asked sweetly.

“Hell, say whatever you want.”

“My, you do know how to tempt a woman.”

“Just spit it out.”

She almost gave in to temptation. The icy clarity of his eyes stopped her.

“You were thrashing—” she began.