Jodi Thomas - Texan's Touch

Before he could finish with the stitches on the first boy, another child arrived with a broken arm, then another badly bruised, then another in shock from fright and cold. In the back of his mind, as he worked, Adam realized Nichole was doing her part. One by one, she saved the children.

Adam issued orders to everyone who walked through the door as only a man who’d lived through countless emergencies could. There was no time to waste. He cared for each child with skill and practiced swiftness he’d learned from his years in the army.

When Daniel entered, Adam asked without stopping working, “How many more?”

Daniel carried a child toward Adam. “This is the last and he’s in fine shape, only cold. The women with babies were in the first wagon. It made it across the bridge. The second had mostly school-age children. It missed the corner of the bridge and broke the pole acting as a guardrail. The third wagon had these women in it.” He looked around at all the women moving about, busy working. A few were already gathering up their children to take home.

“Where’s Willow?” he asked almost softly as he passed the child to Adam. “I thought she’d be in the last wagon.”

“She was in the first wagon,” someone answered. “She’s safe across the river with the babies.”

Daniel bolted, but two of the men caught him at the door. “She’s all right,” one said. “And so are your twins. They made it across the bridge.”

“I have to go,” he pulled at where they held him. “I have to know.”

“Let him go,” Adam ordered as he handed the frightened child he held to her mother.

The men lowered their grip and Adam added, “Danny, be careful.”

Daniel nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I get them home safely.”

Adam glanced around the crowded room. “Stay with them. Everything seems to be under control here. Not nearly as bad as it could have been. I’ll probably be back at your place before you return with Willow and the twins.”

Daniel opened the door to leave. He seemed suddenly in a hurry to have the twins close to him.

Adam glanced out into the rain. One lone man splashed through the mud toward Dan’s house. Wes! His head was low against the rain and he cradled a body, limp and lifeless in his arms.

“Nichole!” Adam whispered the word, but it seemed to silence the room.

He grabbed his bag and ran to catch Wes. Adam knew she must be hurt and Wes was taking her where all three brothers knew she belonged. Beneath a McLain roof.

A scene from months ago flashed through Adam’s mind. Only Wes had been carrying May, Daniel’s wife, in the rain. And May had died.

ADAM LEANED HIS knee on the bed and slowly unbuckled Nichole’s gun belt. The leather was soaked, the Colt covered in mud as he unwrapped it from around her.

“She handed me the last kid,” Wes mumbled, “and I turned to pass the child along. In that moment, her foot must have slipped and no one was holding the rope tight. We were all laughing and hooting, because it was over and all the children were safe. She fell back hard before I could grab the other end of the line and start pulling her up.”

At the bedroom door, Daniel held one of his twins on his arm. “Is she all right, Adam?”

Adam ran his hand along her ribs and felt her slow, steady breathing. “I think she’ll be fine,” he answered. “Both of you get into dry clothes. I’ll take care of her. I’ll call if I need anything.”

Wes raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t argue. He left Adam and Nichole in Daniel’s bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Slowly, Adam began undressing her, checking for any bumps or cuts as he worked. Her breathing was normal, even her body temperature was not unduly low considering she’d been in cold water for the past hour. When he’d lifted her from Wes and carried her through the rain to Daniel’s house, she’d held to him tightly. Silently her embrace told him that maybe she was in need of a very special kind of care.

He opened her shirt, feeling slightly like a Peeping Tom as she laid unaware. He moved his hands to her waist and began unbuttoning her trousers. She was so beautiful, not like an untouchable statue or doll as he used to think of women, but like a real flesh-and-blood woman.

He slid down beside her and felt her curl against the length of his body. Raising his hand to her throat, he spread his fingers wide as he moved down the length of her with enough pressure to let her know that he was touching her. His hand stopped below her waist. He shoved her wet clothes aside.

When she didn’t respond, he repeated his cure, pressing her flesh with his bold action as he moved downward from throat to below waist. Holding her breast as his fingers passed over her, feeling her ribs, pressing into the soft valley where a child would someday grow within her.

His touch was not light like an admirer, but bold and demanding as a seasoned lover’s.

She rocked slightly with pleasure, but didn’t open her eyes.

He repeated his action, bolder, feeling her fully as she lay beside him, imprinting his hand upon her skin, warming her with his gentle branding.

Finally, he could wait no longer to taste her half-opened mouth. He lowered his lips and kissed hers lightly. When she didn’t move, the kiss deepened, forcing her mouth wide with its plundering, taking fully while demanding a response.

Her eyes opened.

Adam didn’t move. He stared into the bottomless depths of her fiery green eyes as she lay so close against him. Her shirt barely covered her shoulders, but she made no effort to pull it closed. Without breaking his stare, his hand spread out across her abdomen. There could be no doubt what he’d been doing while she’d been unconscious. The only question was how she’d react.

Without a word, she raised her lips to his once more, offering her mouth. As he kissed her, she stretched beneath his hand, offering her body as well.

Silently, he made love to her. Gently worshipping with a touch what she willingly surrendered. Unlike the first time that had been wild and free, loving now was deep and sweet with tenderness.

She gave herself easily to his every embrace, and he lost his very soul in the depths of her. They were not two people mating, but one being intertwining around and around itself until there was no place where one began and the other ended. He entered her again and again, pulling out before completion so that he could continue to hold her and touch her as she strained for more. Her breathing quickened with need for him, but he held her away, forcing her to endure more of his endless pleasing, allowing himself all he wanted of the feel of her.

And he took his fill, turning her on first her side and then her stomach, so that his hands could caress every part of her. When she cried out in pleasure, he pulled her back against him and cupped her breasts tightly as she felt his need for her pressing against her.

He held her there, denying her the fulfillment she wanted until she relaxed once more in his embrace. When she leaned her head back on his shoulder in truce, he tasted her throat hungrily as his fingers explored her now soft, waiting body.

She was pure joy in his arms, responding to his every touch now. Her body was warm and wet and shaking with need for him. For a moment he’d tamed the wild spirit and caught the fire in his hand. She responded to his needs, be they bold or slight.

As he moved across her, she welcomed his every advance. He closed his fingers around her breasts, gently tugging them again and again until they felt swollen and ripe. His mouth made her senses explode as he kissed her with the hunger of starvation. He gave her the sanctuary of his arms, and the warmth of his nearness and all life’s passion.