Johanna Lindsey - Savage Thunder

"I figured you wouldn't mind too much." But when her hand drifted down between his legs, he went tense, making her giggle. "What's the matter, honey? Don't you trust your sweet wife?"

"Sweet, hell," he grumbled at her own teasing. "Sometimes I think you're still as wild and untamed as you were the day I met you."

Her head turned slightly so she could twirl her tongue around his nipple. Soft turquoise eyes peeked up at him for his reaction.

"Would you want me any other way?"

"Hell, no."

Later that afternoon, Jessie rode up into the hills to Colt's cabin. It still made her smile each time she passed the spot where she and Chase had first made love, there in the lower hills overlooking the valley.

That first time had been wonderful, even though it had ended badly. He'd thought he wasn't ready for marriage yet and settling down. He'd found out dif-ferently. He had even brought her back up here after they returned to Wyoming, to do it right this time, he said. Did they ever do it right.

The years had been good to them, exceedingly so. She might still be gruff with him at times — old habits died hard, and she'd always been quick to show her temper — but she knew the man loved her as much as she loved him, which was one hell of a lot.

Colt's cabin was higher up in the mountains near the creek where she used to swim as a girl, with a view of not only the valley but the plains beyond. Even with a few inches of snow covering the slopes this high up, she still found him outside wearing only a pair of old buckskin breeches as he chopped wood. He had a small mountain of wood piling up behind him. He swung that ax with a vengeance too. As chilly as the air was, sweat sheened on his chest and back.

She decided not to comment on his method for working off steam, which she had little doubt was the reason for such exertion. "Any coffee left on the stove?"

He didn't look up as he nodded, having known who his visitor was long before she came into sight of his little clearing. "Help yourself."

She did, taking note that his cabin was a mess and about a dozen bottles of whiskey filled a box in the comer, all empty. She came back out to stand in the doorway, cup in hand. He still didn't stop his chop-ping.

"You catch any horses lately?"

Since his corral was empty, it was really a question just to annoy him. It didn't work.

"No," was all he said.

"Billy will be taking the train to Chicago next week. I think my mother's actually going to listen to him now about that extra schooling he doesn't want. It wouldn't hurt him none to have it, though. Maybe you and I could talk him into changing his mind."

"The boy's old enough to make his own decisions, Jessie," he said with another swing of the ax.

She let that tack go. "You haven't seen him since he led those foreigners into town. Are you going to at least come down to say good-bye? I notice you've been remiss in that department lately."

She got his attention with that one. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jessie shrugged. "Just that your duchess remarked on your absence the morning she left. She hadn't re-alized she wasn't going to see you again."

He swung the ax once more, making no comment other than "She's not my duchess."

"Well, of course not," Jessie allowed. "I didn't mean it that way." She moved out of the doorway to sit on a tree stump closer to the woodpile and re-marked casually, "She sure is a lady who knows how to get things done. I heard she just walked into the bank and came out less than a half hour later with a deed in hand."

"To the Callan place."

So he did know. She hadn't been sure. "Well, there wasn't much else available already built. She's fixed it up so you wouldn't recognize it, but I guess she's still not that happy with it. She also bought land run-ning clear up into the mountains and plans to build a mansion in the foothills come spring. There's already some famous New York architect working on a design for her, and she's got whole crews willing to travel all this way—"

"How do you know so much, Jessie?"

"I've paid her a visit or two. She is my neighbor now, after all, and only a short ride away."

"I know."

She frowned at the disgust in his tone. "Is that a problem?"

"Why should it be?"

"Well, you sure don't sound too happy about it."

"Was I supposed to?"

"Well. yes, I kind of thought you might be. Weren't you and she friends?"

"She hired me to do a job. I did it."

"And that's all there was between you two?"

"Jessie," he began warningly, but she cut him off.

"White Thunder, this is me you're talking to. And I saw the way you looked at her, so you can't tell me you don't want her. Why aren't you over there doing some courting? My foreman is, every chance he gets."

"Emmett Harwell?" he snapped. "He's old enough to be her father!"

"Well, now, what's that got to do with anything? I heard her duke was even older than that."

He glowered at her for a moment, but went right back to swinging the ax. Jessie made a sound of ex-asperation. Directness just wasn't going to work.

She took a sip of coffee, then said, "You know, after hearing all about this English dude who keeps hounding the lady, I figured the first thing she'd do when she moved in was build a wall around the place, but she didn't. I even asked her about it, and you know what she said?"

She waited. It took about twenty seconds, but he finally looked at her and demanded, "Well?"

"She doesn't want to keep him out. She says she's entrenched and waiting for him to come to her.

Sounds like something you might have suggested she do."

"Maybe I did."

"That's what I thought, but I couldn't figure out why you weren't there waiting with her."

"She's got enough men—"

"But she doesn't plan to use them. She plans on shooting the Englishman herself, so she's making it easy for him to get to her."

Colt dropped the ax. "Where'd she get that crazy idea from?"

Jessie shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Maybe she was just trying to impress me with her courage, since it's something I might do. Like you said, she's got men aplenty. Stands to reason there'd be one or two around to get him before he reaches her."

Colt made no comment to that. He was already heading for his cabin. Jessie followed, trying not to grin.

"You planning to go over there?" she called after him.

"The woman doesn't make idle remarks like that, Jessie," he tossed over his shoulder. "If she said she'd shoot him, she means to do it. Someone's got to tell her it's a damn-fool idea."

"Well, while you're there, why don't you put an end to this silliness of drinking yourself sick each night and ask the woman to marry you?"

He swung around to scowl at her. "Mind your own business, Jessie."

"You want to, don't you?"

"What difference does that make? She's a white woman, or didn't you notice?"

She deliberately widened her eyes, as if she under-stood perfectly now. "Well, why didn't you tell me she was prejudiced?"

"Are you crazy? She doesn't even know the mean-ing of the word."

"Then she's too arrogant for you? I should have known, her being a duchess and all."

"She's no more arrogant than you are," he re-torted.

"Well, I'm not arrogant, so it must be she's mean-spirited. I never would have guessed."

"Cut it out, Jessie," he hissed. "There isn't a mean bone in her body."

"Then it must be her looks. And here I thought you didn't mind all that ugly red hair."

"Chase should have wrung your neck the last time he threatened to."

"What'd I say?" she asked innocently.

He chuckled then, and caught her about the waist to give her a hard hug. "You've made your point, sister. I guess I can't lose anything by asking."