Jodi Thomas - To Kiss a Texan

The days and nights of no sleep suddenly caught up with her. She leaned close against the stranger and rested her head on his pillow.

His warm breath brushed her wet cheek.

The memories of the boy who’d run with her returned. He’d fallen before they reached the trees. Allie remembered being afraid to go on without him. He’d told her to have a plan, but she’d been too small and frightened to think of one. She’d curled beside him and smelled the blood dripping from his body. He hadn’t moved, not even when a Comanche yanked her up by one arm and draped her over his horse. The boy hadn’t helped her or even cried out when the brave rode away with her as a prize.

Allie rubbed her eyes on her sleeve and lifted the blanket covering Wes. She was too tired to plan now. All she wanted to do was sleep. No one would ever know if she lay beside this man called Wes. For a few hours, she could pretend she had someone looking out for her. Someone valuing her. Someone caring for her as she slept.

She slipped in beside him. The heat of his body took away the chill of the night. She lay an inch away, not touching, but close enough to feel his breath on her cheek once more.

Allie closed her eyes. No one would see her here between this man and the windows. She’d sleep next to his warmth until first light, then disappear.

Tomorrow she’d follow her plan.

WES BECAME AWARE OF HER SOMEWHERE DEEP INsleep, more on a primal level than on a conscious one. A feeling born basic into the soul of a man, even though layers of civilization concealed it. A need to protect, to shelter, to hold, reacted in his dreams as strongly as reality.

Ignoring the pain from his wound, he moved his arm over her, curling her into the protective length of his lean body as he pulled her close. When her back rested against his chest, he felt a heartbeat that matched his own, and the pain passed, allowing him a deeper sleep. Her nearness began to heal him.

With the first light of dawn, she stretched. Half asleep, Wes opened his eyes to find a stranger curled beside him.

‘‘Good morning,’’ he mumbled for lack of anything better to say. Dreams and consciousness battled in his mind, for he had no idea who she was. Yet she seemed a part of him. ‘‘Did you sleep well?’’ He didn’t want to admit that this wasn’t the first time he’d awakened without remembering a lady’s name who slept next to him.

Her hair covered the pillow in waves of golden brown. He couldn’t resist rolling his head slightly so that it brushed his cheek. The smell was fresh and clean. The feel, soft and warm.

She twisted slightly to face him. In so doing, her breasts brushed against his outstretched arm. Full, rounded breasts. Not so large to be bothersome, but big enough to enjoy caressing, he thought.

Wes closed his eyes in the pure joy of feeling her against his skin with only a light cotton gown to cover her. If she felt so good just touching his arm, he wasn’t sure he could endure the pleasure he might have closing his hand over her flesh. And nothing would have made him forget such an enjoyment. Whoever this woman was, she wasn’t someone he’d made love to.

‘‘I must be dead,’’ he whispered as he moved his face against her hair once more. ‘‘I remember thinking I’d die last night. Now it’s happened. I can’t reason why I dreaded passing so, if you are my heaven.’’

She didn’t answer but placed her fingers lightly against his throat, as if testing his theory.

Wes laughed and opened his eyes once more. The makeshift bed they shared was hard as a table and had been placed in front of tall windows. Her hair caught the first gold of the sun. It took Wes several seconds to force his gaze to her face.

Bright blue eyes met his stare. Blue eyes!

Slowly, as if rising through water to the surface, he saw her. Her small shoulders, hardly big enough to be a full-grown woman’s. A bruise beneath her eye and another running along her throat. The white lace of her gown stood in sharp contrast to the deep purple mark at her collar.

He gently moved his fingers from her elbow to her hand at his throat and raised her arm slightly. Then he knew who she was, for the bruises of her chains were deep along her wrists.

As he put the pieces together in his mind, he knew she realized his memory of her had returned, for she pulled away. The beautiful woman whom he’d awakened with now lowered her head and raised her arms in defense as she slipped from his side.

Though he wanted her to stay, Wes didn’t try to stop her. The dirt might have been removed, but the poor creature he’d tried to save had returned. She moved into the cornered space between his bed and the bay window. Her wild blue eyes darted for an escape. He hadn’t the heart to reach for her against her will. Her stare was once more layered in fear and panic. She reached for a cape and pulled it about her shoulders as though the material would somehow make her vanish.

‘‘Wait!’’ He wondered if she could understand anything he said. ‘‘I’m not going to hurt you.’’ How could this woman who looked like pure paradise at dawn be watching him as though she thought him from the depths of hell?

With trembling hands, she fished into the knot of cloth she carried and drew a knife. The blade blinked bright in the morning light. She pointed it toward him with the butt of the weapon against her middle, as though she’d use the force of her entire body to run him through if she must.

He swung his legs to the floor on the far side of the bed. He knew he still penned her in, but hoped that by increasing the distance between them, she’d feel less threatened.

Slowly, he reached for a shirt at the end of his bed as he glanced around. Somehow this creature had managed to get him to Adam, which told Wes that there was a good chance she understood at least part of what he’d said last night. Judging from his bandaging, Adam had done the usual grand job of patching him up.

‘‘Thank you,’’ he whispered, ‘‘for bringing me here. You saved my life.’’

She nodded slightly. A quick, tiny nod he would have missed if he were not studying her so closely.

‘‘I’m in your debt.’’ He meant his words to be kind, but he’d had little practice being gentle. He could see her shaking beneath the cape as if fearing he’d murder her at any moment.

‘‘Do you have a name I can call you?’’ Wes tried to ease the tension.

She stared at him, her knuckles still white around the knife.

A noise sounded from somewhere beyond the hallway and he watched her panic grow.

Wes reached for his holster and strapped on his Colt. ‘‘Don’t worry. You’re safe here.’’ He only hoped he spoke the truth. If the preacher had asked before trailing him, a few of the folks in Denton could have told him where Wes’s brothers lived. If Wes had had any other choice, he’d have stayed clear of Adam and Daniel. But last night he’d been out of options.

He could tell by the way she watched him arm himself that she didn’t believe him. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever had the luxury of feeling safe in her life.

‘‘Adam!’’ a man’s voice shouted from the hallway. ‘‘Adam. Nick. Anybody here?’’

Wes relaxed. ‘‘In here, Daniel,’’ he answered as Adam jerked awake with the sudden noise and unfolded from the chair by the fireplace.

A huge man suddenly framed the doorway, and Wes thought he could feel the woman’s fear as thick as smoke between them. Her gaze darted from the doorway to Adam’s sudden rise from sleep, to Wes, as though now her problems had tripled.

‘‘Wes, I was hoping you’d be here.’’ Daniel took a step into the room, then froze when he saw the woman. ‘‘Then it’s true? You did kidnap a girl from Denton?’’