Tempest
A Historical Romance

by Beth Dunman Daigre

© copyright by Beth Dunman Daigre, Aug 2000
Cover Art by Eliza Black
ISBN 1-58608-146-2
Rocket Edition 1-58608-248-5
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

April 16, 1889
Arkansas City, Kansas

CHAPTER ONE

"You lost, kid?"

Dannie’s heart almost halted. Taking a deep breath and forcing herself not to bolt and run, she turned. Ominous eyes, glinting as brightly as the star on the man’s chest, peered down at her from under a broad-brimmed Stetson.

"No, sir." Breath suspended, she prayed that her voice sounded masculine enough to fool the sheriff. Her disguise of over-sized shirt and hat had deceived countless others since she had left Kansas City. But then, she hadn’t had to talk if she hadn’t wanted to.

The lawman’s gaze narrowed and darted to Parker beside her. "Where you two headed?"

Dannie glanced at her brother, whose height almost matched hers, then back at the lawman. "To the hotel." She gave a short nod toward the plain, wooden building across the busy, dust-clogged street.

The suspicious gleam in the man’s eyes deepened as he looked down at the carpetbag in her hand. "It’s full. You got a room there?"

Stepping backward, she gripped the handle tighter, her heart thudding a little harder. "Yeah." She looked to each side of her, hoping he believed her lie. God, let there be a way out of this.

"How old are you and what’s your name?" The sheriff’s brow wrinkled, his skeptical gaze darting down her figure.

"Twenty-one, sir." Pulling her hat low over her eyes and backing up a step, she realized her disguise made her appear much younger; certainly much younger than her actual twenty-three. She slid her tongue over dry lips.

"You sure ‘bout that? You don’t look that old."

Sweat popped out across her forehead. Dear Lord, what if she and Parker were arrested right here and sent back to Uncle Mason? Surely things wouldn’t fall apart now, they’d made it this far!

With the thought, she threw a quick glance around. People swarmed past. Horses and vehicles of all kinds clattered to and fro. Maybe she and Parker could make their break and get lost among the people before his questions probed too deeply.

"What’s your name?"

Dannie backed up another step and tugged at her pants, her palms now slick with sweat. Clearing her throat with the hope of lowering it another pitch or two, she answered, "Dannie . . . Dannie Hunter." Her mother’s maiden name had worked so far. It had to work one more time.

The lawman’s gaze moved to Parker. "What’s your name and how old are you, son?"

As if unsure of what to say, Parker looked at Dannie. He swallowed. His throat bobbed. "Parker and I’m thirteen, sir."

The man shifted his weight. "Waiting to go into the territory?"

Dannie nodded, knowing she’d said too much already. To talk any more would increase the chances of sounding too much like a female. She took a deep gulp of air. No, she couldn’t let everything fall apart now.

"Just you two?" The man’s skeptical frown deepened.

Trying to move inconspicuously, Dannie clutched Parker’s hand and cast a quick look at him. His wide-eyed stare rested on the sheriff. Ding-dang it, she’d have to drag him with her in her attempt to escape.

Suddenly spinning about, jerking Parker with her, she darted into the crowd of people.

"Hey, you!"

Dannie heard the sheriff’s shout behind her. With her heart in her throat, she sprinted a little faster – and slammed into a solid wall of leather, flesh, and muscle. Stunned with the jolt, she found herself steadied by warm hands and staring up into the blackest eyes she had ever seen. For a motionless moment, her gaze locked with the man’s.

Colin Ryder expelled a gush of air as he held the lad’s shoulders in front of him. Never had he seen such depth or color in a pair of silver-blue eyes before – especially on one so young. Nor had he seen such feathery lashes on a male of any age.

The boy suddenly yanked free of his grip and dashed around him, taking his companion with him. Ryder stared after the fleeing kids. Probably runaway orphans.

Ryder looked up and suddenly encountered the sheriff’s dark scowl.

The lawman’s face dropped with surprise and recognition. His hand darted for the gun on his hip. "Hold it!"

Ryder spun on his heel and hurried down the walk, pushing his way through the crowd. Damn! Even here in this little unknown town in south Kansas he was unable to flee his past. Why had he been so foolish to think he could ever find a place remote enough to escape his bad name?

Sharply turning, he entered a narrow, litter-strewn alley and stepped into the shadows under a staircase. Squatting down, he peered out. At the end of the alley, the sheriff paused, turned and glanced into the dimness. He took a couple of steps into the lane, then, shrugging, strode on down the street, out of sight. Taking a deep breath of relief, Ryder stepped out of his hiding place.

Something behind him in the shadows rustled.

Snatching his Colt out of the holster, he pivoted. A pair of wide, bright eyes looked up at him. The same pair of silver-blue eyes he had just seen on the street. Relieved, he took a deep breath. "What’s going on here?" His tone sounded sterner than he intended, reminiscent of his days as a lawman when he questioned a suspect.

"Oh!" The boy ducked his head, stumbled backward, and pulled the hat lower over his eyes.

The younger of the two cowered into the shadows and glanced at his companion as if waiting for the answer to come from him.

"Well, huh. . ." The older one looked up from the corners of his eyes and shrugged his narrow shoulders under the too-large, red plaid shirt. His hand went to the pocket of his pants as if making sure something was still there. "We’re just tryin’ to find a place to sleep . . .bunk, that’s all."

Ryder cocked his head and studied the young man’s face. Not only did the kid carry a gun in his pants, but a few secrets behind those wide, intense eyes as well. His low voice and the inflection in his tone sounded like a woman trying to disguise her voice. And from the way he kept trying to hide his face, he was probably much younger than twenty-one. More than likely closer to sixteen. "Who or what are you two running from?" he asked.

The boy stiffened and glared up at Ryder from suddenly glinting eyes. "We ain’t runnin’."

"Like hell you aren’t. Are you runaways?"

"No!" His tapered chin jutted. "I’m twenty-one and can do as I ding-dang please!"

With a tinge of amusement, Ryder noticed that in the heat of emotion, the lad lost his low tone and accent. And the set jaw didn’t have a whisker on it. In fact, it looked suspiciously like a woman’s chin. "I’d say you’re lying about your age, too. You’re no more twenty-one than your pal there." He gave a curt nod toward the younger one. "I have a good notion to walk you right over to the sheriff’s office."

The boy’s eyes glistened with challenge. "Oh, no you won’t."

"You’re pretty cockeyed sure of yourself. What makes you think I won’t?" Ryder’s instinct told him to walk away and not get involved with these two troublemakers.

"Because you’re running from the law yourself. Seems to me you want to avoid the law as much as we do!"

Noting how the lad’s tone raised a notch or two, Ryder arched an eyebrow, let a grin move across his face, and recalled the boy telling the lawman his name was Dannie. A name suitable for either man or woman. "For the moment, it’s in my best interest that I do."

A nervous smile slid across the Dannie’s lips. Then it faded. "What’s your name?" The question was belligerent.

"Ryder."

"Ryder what?"

"Let’s let it go at that."

Somewhere up the street, a gun cracked. Squeals of laughter mingled with cries of alarm, the din of a rowdy town. Her pugnacity suddenly gone and looking much like a cat ready to leap, Dannie shot a glance toward the end of the alley.

"Why are you running from the law?" Parker interjected, appearing more at ease now.

"That’s something I learned real early, Parker. Don’t answer too many questions too soon."

Parker’s eyes widened. "How’d you know my name?"

"I overheard your conversation with the sheriff." His gaze moved back to Dannie’s. "What are you two doing alone here in Arkansas City? Waiting to get into the territory?"

"That’s none of your business," Dannie snapped. "Besides, you’re asking too many questions."

Ryder grinned, amused by the way Dannie’s voice rose to a feminine pitch, then lowered to a dubious masculine tone, as if she just remembered to alter her voice. "This town’s no place for two loose kids. Do you have a place to stay?"

Dannie shuffled. "No, we don’t."

"I’m not surprised. I have a room over at the hotel there. You two can stay with me." Why the hell did he say that? He nodded toward the end of the alley at the unpainted plank building across the bustling street. Wagons clattered past, and horses trotted back and forth. "It’d be safer than sleeping out here in the open."

"Thanks just the same, but I don’t think so."

Concern ran through Ryder. "Then it’s your shot." Reluctant to leave, he turned, cast one last glance toward Dannie, then moved down the alley.

Dannie studied Ryder’s retreating back and fought the urge to run after him and accept his offer. She and Parker may have no choice but to sleep on the streets. They had never done that in their entire lives.

Yet, no way could they spend the night cooped up in a small room with such an eye-catching stranger. His blue-black eyes were too profound, too discerning, and too seductive. Combined with that crooked grin, he probably could charm a woman right out of her chemise before she knew what hit her. An aura of mystery and danger surrounded him as snugly as the denim pants and black chambray shirt, making him all the more intriguing. The streets were probably safer than bedding down in a room with him anyway. Besides, he asked too many questions and was wanted by the law himself. Not a good combination.

"Don’t ya think we should stay with him, Dannie?" Parker asked, his voice tinged with trepidation, yanking her out of her thoughts. "It is kinda wild around here. Besides all the hotels we’ve checked have been full."

"I don’t trust him. He’s running, too, and could be a wanted killer for all we know. We’re probably safer out here than in his room. Now, let’s find a place to sleep." Picking up the carpetbag, she started toward the street.

Parker fell into step with her. "What if we hafta sleep on the street, Dannie?"

"We won’t." Her words sounded much more confident than what she felt. She shrugged, trying to shake off the niggling fear creeping up her spine. What if they did have to sleep on the streets? They had never before been without a home. Never been surrounded by such lawlessness. Above all, she never questioned her decision to leave Uncle Mason in Kansas City until now. Oh, how nice it would be to have a friend somewhere out there in that mass of people!

Swinging a glance down the street, she wondered where Ryder went.

****

From his room window on the second floor of the hotel, Ryder looked down on the rowdy street below him. The town was wide open with saloons and gambling houses aplenty, and hucksters on every street corner. The hotels and boarding houses overflowed so that many people slept under tables and in corners. He could see from his window the white tents of numerous campsites spread along the Arkansas River and Walnut Creek just outside the city. Reporters and photographers meandered all over the town, speaking to every person willing to talk and taking pictures of anyone who would pose.

Arkansas City. The jumping off place for land seekers, such as himself, who waited for permission to enter Indian Territory farther south in a few days. He wondered how many were seeking new lives and homesteads such as he - a place where he could get lost, a place where his face or name wouldn’t be known. In the wide open spaces and the mad scramble for land, he would probably never be found. Only one person, his sister, Jane, knew of his whereabouts and he wanted it to stay that way. It was safer for him.

Dannie and Parker moving along the walk below him pulled him out of his thoughts. They looked exactly what they were - two unsure kids in an unfamiliar town among strangers. Guilt pricked him. He should have insisted they stay with him. But on second thought, it was just as well. The last thing he needed was two kids trailing around behind him. He couldn’t afford any slip-ups. Not now. Not when he was so close to starting a new life for himself in a new place.

Watching the two disappear into the throng of people, he hoped they found a safe place to sleep.

****

Suddenly wide awake, Ryder bolted upright, snatched the gun off the bedside table, and stared at the closed door through the semi-darkness. Lightning flickered through the opened hotel window and thunder rumbled. Had the storm awakened him?

The rapping came again. No, it wasn’t thunder that yanked him out of his sleep. Someone was knocking on the door to his room. Was it the law? Who else would have reason to rouse him this time of night?

Standing, he pushed a twig of hair off his forehead, and, clad only in his drawers, crossed the room to the door.

"Yeah? Who’s there?" He clutched his Colt tighter.

The clearing of a throat come through the door. "Parker. Parker Jacobs. I need help."

Cautiously opening the door, he saw the lad, his face stricken with terror, standing in the hall, a carpetbag in his hand. Wide, dark eyes, hinting of tears, stared up at him.

"Mister, can you come an’ see about my . . ." He gulped. ". . .brother? He’s been knocked out and blood’s all over the place."

"Where is he?" Turning, he lifted his pants off the nearby chair.

"In the alley outside." Parker sounded winded, panicked. "Sorry I woke you, but I didn’t know where else to go."

"That’s what you two ragamuffins get for running around in a place like this." Ryder pulled on his shirt, then sat down on the bed and reached for his boots. "Where did the name Jacobs come from? What is your last name - Hunter or Jacobs?"

As if embarrassed, Parker shuffled her feet and glanced toward the window. "We use Jacobs sometimes."

"Yeah, when it’s convenient, I bet." He slipped on a boot.

"Can ya hurry up?"

Ryder stood, suddenly aggravated with himself that he was getting involved with these two urchins, that he felt somehow responsible for their safety. "What happened?"

"A man stole our carpetbag and we chased him down the alley. He hit Dannie. Sh . . .he’s out cold."

"You’re lucky that’s all that happened. How’d you get the bag back?" Rising, he belted on his gun and holster.

"I found a piece of wood an’ hit him with it. He dropped it." The boy blinked, his chin quivering.

Damn, he’s not about to cry, is he? That’s all he needed, a squalling kid on his hands. Or maybe two squalling kids.

****

Dannie slowly awoke. Slits of light penetrated inky blackness. Wetness numbed her face. Then the throbbing pain in her cheek came next. Blinking, she forced her eyes open and found herself staring into the blue-black eyes belonging to Ryder. His jaw flexed tightly, his mouth twitched with an amused smile.

Memories rushed back. Alarm seized her. Parker! She made an effort to lift herself up and was pushed back into a soft mattress.

"Lie still," Ryder ordered. "You’ve been hurt."

Embarrassment and anger seared her. "I know that!" She again attempted to rise. "Where’s Parker?"

"Here, Dannie." He appeared at the foot of the bed where she lay, his dark eyes dim with worry, his brows lowered.

Relief surged through her. Then another wave of panic. "The carpetbag? Our money?" Again, she struggled to rise and Ryder’s firm hand on her shoulder forced her back down.

"We have it, Dannie." Parker’s gaze shot to Ryder, then came back to her. His face beamed, his chest puffed. "I hit the guy with a stick an’ he ran."

Relieved, she sighed. Her cheek ached. Another horrifying thought rushed through her. Panicked, she lifted her hand to her head. Unfettered strands of hair dangled over her shoulders. "My hat . . . ?"

Ryder gazed at her, his smile suggesting that he’d won a point. The spicy, masculine smell of him filled her nostrils. Smoldering eyes as black as the hair on his head studied her. Shadows danced across his clean-lined face, darkened with beard stubble.

"It came off," he drawled.

Suddenly disarmed by his nearness and irked by his blithe demeanor, she sat up. A stab of pain again ran through her cheek. She glared at Ryder and tried to ignore the small, intriguing dimple in his chin. "Now you know."

His grin widened, flashing white teeth. An eyebrow lifted, almost disarming her. "Know what? That you’re a girl?"

"Yeah!"

His grin escalated into a rumbling chuckle. "I suspected that from the beginning. You occasionally forgot to lower your voice. And there’s not a whisker on that chin of yours. It’s amazing that you’ve gotten by with your disguise this far."

Heat crept across her face. Trying to avoid his gaze, she glanced about and realized with a surge of mortification that she must be in Ryder’s bed, in his room. Lightning flashed through the window. Thunder rolled and rain pelted against the glass. "We can leave now and let you get some sleep."

"Hold it." His wide hand clutched her shoulder, scorching her skin through her shirt and pushing her back on the bed. "That cut needs to be looked at."

Feeling duly chastised, Dannie wondered how she could have lost control of her and Parker’s lives so quickly - especially to a stranger as intriguing, as mysterious as this one.

Fluid and with confident ease, Ryder rose and strode to the pitcher sitting on a washstand. Mesmerized, she watched the muscles across his wide shoulders roll and bellow under the thin shirt. She studied the way the pants hugged his narrow hips, how leg muscle and sinew rippled under the denim, and how the gun holster was tied low against his thigh, as if ready for quick use.

"Something interest you, Dannie?" He turned from the bowl, a wet rag in his hand.

Embarrassed and with dismissive lift of her chin, she looked at Parker standing at the end of the bed. "How did we get here, Parker?"

Despair lined her brother’s face, and for a moment she regretted being so short with him.

"I didn’t know where else to go, Dannie!"

"Did you look for a doctor?"

"I didn’t know where to look!" Parker shrugged, his eyes wide, his mouth bowed as if he was ready to cry.

"Don’t be so hard on him, Dannie." His eyes glistening with amusement, Ryder came back to her, the wet rag in his hand. He pressed her back on the bed and dabbed at the blood on her face. "His coming and getting me was probably the smartest thing he could’ve done in this town."

His gentle touch almost made her lose her breath. Hoping against hope he couldn’t see how he affected her, she averted her gaze, focusing on the window where rain made little diamond rivulets on the glass. The cloth felt cold against her face. She winced.

"Is your name Hunter or Jacobs?"

Alarmed she blinked at him, then let her gaze fly to Parker’s pink face. "You told him, didn’t you?"

"I didn’t tell him anything! Honest!"

"Let up, Dannie." Ryder lifted the rag off her cheek. "He’s right. I don’t know anything."

"How’d you know about the name Jacobs?"

"He told me you sometimes use it." Standing beside her, he looked her from clear, profound eyes. "When it’s convenient to do so."

"Come on, Parker! I’m better now! We can go!" She sprang to her feet. She swayed with a wave of dizziness and sank back to the bed.

"You’d better lie still." Ryder wiped the cool cloth across her cheek. "You’re going to have a nice bruise and maybe a headache. You and your brother better rest here tonight, then be on your way in the morning."

"No!" Dannie swung her gaze back to him and sat up. "No, I . . . we can’t do that."

Crossing his arms over his chest, ready to ask a few more questions, Ryder looked down at Dannie on the bed. Then deciding it best not to be too nosy, he turned and went back to the table and dropped the cloth into the bowl. He had all the trouble he could handle without learning any more about these runaways. "Where are you planning to stay? You’ve already found out it’s dangerous on the streets."

"We’ll find a place. We’ll just be more careful about where we sleep." Moving unsteadily, her tone clipped, Dannie stood, clutching her pants by the waist.

"It’ll be another two long nights on the streets before anyone’s allowed to cross the border into Indian Territory, if that’s where you’re headed." Intrigued, Ryder marveled that she’d pulled the charade off so far. Had she donned it for protection against thousands of men roaming the streets in this wild, woolly town? Or to disguise herself in order to elude her father? Or a husband?

Dannie’s chin raised. Her eyes sparkled a little brighter. "Who says we’re going down into Indian Territory?"

Ryder shrugged. "I suspect you are since that’s why everyone’s here."

"Is that why you’re here?" Belligerence tinged her tone.

Ryder smiled. "As I told you earlier, it’s wise not to answer too many questions too quick."

Stiffening, Dannie started toward the door. "Come on, Parker."

"But we can’t go out there, Dannie," Parker protested. "It’s stormin’."

Halting, she fixed a hard glare on her brother. "Are you afraid of a little water, Parker?"

"Well, no. . . ." He glanced at Ryder. "But I don’t want to see ya get hurt again. What if we’re attacked?"

Ryder chuckled.

Feeling her hackles rise at his insolence, Dannie threw him a chastising glance. Yet she couldn’t help but feel somewhat gratified at her brother’s objections. She, too, didn’t relish going back out on those barbaric streets - or being cooped up with a man who made her insides feel like warm molasses.

"Tell her we hafta stay, Ryder," Parker said, his brow puckered.

"Better listen to him, Dannie." Ryder shrugged. His unbuttoned shirt gaped a little wider, exposing a broad portion of his chest.

She gulped and looked toward the window where lightning flashed. "But there’s only one bed."

A slow, easy grin lifted Ryder’s mouth. A new glint lit his black eyes, laughter in their depths. "There’s an extra blanket here. As I see it, we can sleep one of three ways. You can sleep on the floor while Parker and I share the bed; I’ll sleep on the floor with you and your brother sharing the bed, or . . . ." His smile widened, his eyes taking on a deeper smolder. ". . .you and I can share the bed while Parker sleeps on the floor."

Scorching heat flamed across her cheeks. He was toying with her, getting his laughs at her expense. "You are a crude, barbaric rat with no morals!"

"What’re we gonna do, Dannie?"

Ryder’s laugh smothered Parker’s exasperated question. A brilliant flash of lightning lit the dim room. An ear-splitting roar of thunder followed.

Startled by the storm’s viciousness, her defenses weakening, Dannie glared at Ryder. "We don’t know you from Adam! How do we know we can trust you?"

His dark, cutting gaze slid to hers. "And I don’t know you from Adam either. I don’t know what you have hidden in that bag. So that makes us even."

"Then we’re stayin’, aren’t we, Dannie?" Without waiting for a reply, Parker grabbed a blanket off the bed, dropped it to the floor, and bent to spread it.

Sucking in a long breath, Dannie gave him a gentle shove out of her way, hiked up her pants, and began spreading the blanket herself.

"Good. Since that’s settled, maybe I can get some sleep," Ryder grumbled, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

With a jolt, Dannie straightened. It hadn’t occurred to her that Ryder would strip for bed. Another rush of heat spread from her feet to her head. He continued to unbutton his shirt and slip out of it. His muscular shoulders rolled and bulged with each movement, reminding her of a magnificent stallion. Mesmerized, she stared, noting the mat of black hair sprinkled across his chest and the flat, hard stomach. His hands went to the buttons on his pants. Suddenly realizing what he was about to strip, she dropped to the blanket. With burning body and hammering heart, she flipped on her side and faced the wall.

He chuckled, a deep throaty sound.

She cringed. Oh, dear God, what had she gotten into?

The bed creaked. Boots thudded to the floor. Pants being slipped off rustled. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the image of his bare, lithe body out of her mind.

Dear Lord, what lay ahead of them now? What had she gotten herself into by bringing Parker into this wild country and especially by trusting this stranger who was wanted by the law?

CHAPTER TWO

The bed again creaked. Dannie squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to turn her thoughts off the man on the bed just a few feet away. The way his eyes glittered with a hint of seduction and intimacy, almost as if he were making love to her simply with his gaze. The way his wide, rolling shoulders tapered into a slim waist and hips. The way . . . .

She flipped to her back and stared through the darkness at the ceiling. Wanting nothing more than to take off the strips of cloth that bound her breasts, she stared through the dimness above her. Every night since leaving Kansas City, she’d taken the binding off in the privacy of her bunk on the train that had brought her and Parker this far. Yet she didn’t dare remove it here in Ryder’s room where there was no privacy.

Ryder’s and Parker’s low breathing at last filled the silence as she lay wide awake. She didn’t know why she couldn’t sleep. Her body cried for rest, and her jaw didn’t hurt enough to make her restless. Maybe it was the enormity of coming all this distance and having her first real brush with trouble since leaving home that kept her so wide-eyed. No, it must be the storm. Its high wind and rain roared with such unleashed fury that she begrudgingly and silently thanked Ryder for his generosity in sharing his room with them.

Or maybe Ryder was why she couldn’t sleep.

Annoyed with the thought, she turned to her side and stared at the wall. Flashes of lightning split the darkness. Thunder rumbled. She gently touched her sore cheek where the thief’s blow landed and wondered how big of a bruise she’d have.

Irritated, she sat up and pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it tumble down around her shoulders. Emitting a long sigh, she ran her fingers through its strands and hoped that tomorrow she could wash it. Maybe in that gleaming copper tub standing in the corner of the room . . . .

****

Lying on his side, the pillow tucked under his head, Ryder let a slow, easy smile cross his face. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, arms lifted with her hands holding the thick mane of hair off her neck, Dannie looked like a Greek goddess whose face was turned toward the sun. For the first time, Ryder saw the fullness of her beauty in the flickering brilliance of the lightning. Her lips glistened full and curved softly over a tapered chin. Her hair, a rich, shining auburn laced with gold, looked like strands of silk. She was definitely well beyond the sixteen years as he first thought her to be as a boy. There was no question that she was every inch a female only a few years younger than he, himself.

A strong sensual attraction he hadn’t felt in a long time flowed smooth and warm through him, making his body tense. Damn! He should have left these two on the streets. His instincts told him they’d be nothing but trouble and already he could see that his own magnetism to this girl - no, woman - would be more than what he needed right now.

If he didn’t fear being detained and missing the land opening and the opportunity to get his own piece of land, he’d ask the sheriff if he had any reports on a runaway woman and boy. Anyhow, it was probably best that he not know anything. He’d let her keep on with her charade, then they’d part ways as soon as it turned daylight.

Letting her hair drop, Dannie glanced toward him. Knowing that shadows covered his eyes, he lay still, his gaze still locked on her. Then as if sure he was sleeping, she hurriedly began unbuttoning her shirt.

Unused to watching women undress without their consent, Ryder’s first instinct was to close his eyes. But as each button came unfastened under her fingers, his will to turn away vanished. She shrugged out of the shirt. Strips of cloth encased her upper body. His fascination grew. He smiled.

So that was it. Her bound her breasts made her chest flat. His grin widened as she unpinned the binding and unwrapped it from around her body. With a long sigh, she pushed the cloth aside.

Ryder’s smile faded. To his chagrin, his body reacted to the silhouetted figure beside his bed. Her breasts lifted high and full against the thin fabric of her chemise. Damn! Angry at his lack of control, he flopped to his back. The bed squeaked and groaned.

****

Ryder awoke to the pale light of dawn filtering through the window. From outside came the stirrings of an awakening town; a wagon rattled past, a dog barked, and a door slammed. Beside him Parker slept soundly, his even, shallow breathing filling the stillness. Half expecting to find Dannie awake and clad in her disguise, he scooted up and rested his back against the iron bedstead.

She lay curled on her side, facing him, her fists folded near her chin, a long, thick lock of silken hair spread across her face, which sported a puffy bruise. Long eyelashes made thick crescents against her cheeks and her full, moist mouth puckered. The first three buttons of her shirt gaped open, revealing a glimpse of her breasts.

He silently groaned, cursing himself for being so attracted to her. For the hundredth time, he wondered who she was. Where did she and her brother come from? Above all, from what or whom were they running?

Hold it, Ryder. You can’t handle any more trouble and this twosome spells trouble. Big trouble.

Dannie stirred, stretched, and turned to her back. The tail of her shirt fell away, revealing the butt of a derringer protruding from her pants pocket.

Big trouble. Better leave this one alone.

Parker stirred beside him. Then coming fully awake, he sat up. His eyes grew round as his gaze lit on Dannie, her hair spread around her head like a halo, the hat tossed to one side.

"‘morning, Parker."

"Good mornin’, Ryder. You’re still not gonna tell the law ‘bout us, are you?"

"Why would I tell the law? Have you done something illegal?"

As if fearing he’d revealed too much, Parker straightened and sucked in a long breath. "We haven’t done nothin’ wrong. But you’re not gonna tell anyone about her, dressing like a boy an’ all?"

"Besides for her own protection, why is Dannie trying to pass for a boy? Just what are you two up to?" The minute the questions popped out of his mouth, Ryder could’ve kicked himself. His lawman instincts put his mouth in motion before he realized it. He wasn’t responsible for these two, nor did he want to know anything about them. For his own good, it was best he know nothing.

"I can’t tell ya." Parker looked out the window, avoiding Ryder’s face.

"Fine with me." Flipping back the cover, he sat up, reached for his pants and pulled them on. He needed to remain detached from these two. "I’m going to get some breakfast. I expect you two to be gone by the time I get back."

"We can’t stay here tonight?" Parker’s eyes widened in childlike innocence.

"Now how would that look, my sharing a room with a kid and a young woman?" He pulled on his shirt. Truth be known and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want Dannie Hunter - Jacobs - or whatever her name was in such close quarters with him. She churned his blood too much. But he couldn’t tell Parker that.

"Would you let us have this room then?"

"Then I wouldn’t have a room, would I?" He moved to the washstand and rinsed his mouth.

"We could pay you for it."

Surprised, Ryder looked up at Parker. "You don’t have that kind of money."

"We do, unless it costs over seven thousand."

Startled, Ryder emitted a short whistle. "Dollars?"

"Yeah. Seven thousand is all we have."

"How did you get that kind of money? Rob a bank?"

Parker’s eyes grew round with shock. "We’d never do that in a million years!"

"Well, I’d say that’s a mighty nice sum to have but, no thanks. My room’s not for sale." He reached for his gun, and sending Dannie a quick glance, turned and walked to the door. "I want you two out. Families are camping down by the creek on the outskirts of town. You’ll probably be safer there than here."

The sound of the closing door yanked Dannie wide awake. Sitting upright, panicked by the muted light spilling into the room through the window, she stared at Parker. "Where is he? Where’s Ryder?"

"He’s left and he wants us out by the time he gets back." Pouting, Parker slid out of bed.

"Well, that’s all for the best. The farther we stay away from him, the better for us." She picked up a hairpin. Pushing a lock of hair up on her head, she pinned it into place.

"I asked him to let us have this room. I even offered to pay him for it."

Caution leaped through her. "How much did you tell him, Parker?"

"Nothing. Honest. I just told him how much money we had and offered him some money."

Balling her hand into a fist, she hit the floor in exasperation. "Ding-dang it! You and your damned mouth, Parker Jacobs!"

"Mama’d wash your mouth out with lye soap if she could hear you swear like that, an’ Uncle Mason would’ve slugged you one." Parker yanked on his pants.

"Well, Mama’s not here, is she? She’s been dead close to seven years. And that’s why we’re here in Arkansas City and Uncle Mason’s not. I’m--" The money! Dannie grabbed the carpetbag, and yanked it open. Panicked, she dug to the bottom until her fingers contacted the moneybag. With a long sigh of relief, she pulled it out and opened it. The money still lay inside untouched.

"Well, I guess he’s got some honor about him, even if he is wanted by the law." She pulled out a handful of bills and stuffed them in her pants pocket.

"What do you need all that money for?" Parker asked, moving to the window and peering outside on the street.

"For horses. We’ve got to buy a horse or wagon or something to make the land run in. I don’t think we’d get very far on foot, do you?" She put the sack back inside the carpetbag and closed it.

"Do you think we’re gonna stand a chance of getting a piece of land anyway, Dannie? I mean, seems to me that there’ll be millions of people running after the same piece we are. Some of them will have faster horses--"

"Oh, hush, Parker!" Coming to her feet, she realized her brother only spoke her own fears. They had to find horses, good ones so they could claim a piece of land. If they didn’t, what would they do? Where would they go? To Texas maybe? Colorado? Anywhere but back to Kansas City and Uncle Mason’s big white house on the hill. She’d rather be dead than go back there. And it’d be a cold day in hell before she’d let Parker go back to live the rest of his life under their uncle’s abusive, domineering rule.

"I bet ya can’t find a good horse anywhere in this town." Parker turned from the window. "Bet ya they’re all taken already."

"Don’t be such a pessimist!" Why did Parker have to be so practical? "We’ll find something! Just wait and see!" Her voice sounded much more confident than she felt. Her brother was probably right. It’d be tough finding a good horse or wagon and team out there, but she had to try. "We’ll try the livery first and go from there. If the price is right, any man will sell his horse."

"Wonder what kind of horse Mr. Ryder has," Parker mused aloud.

"I have no idea. Truth be known he probably stole one somewhere." Slapping the hat on her head, she noticed a letter lying on the bedside table. Feeling a little devilish and curious, she moved to it, picked it up, and turned it toward the light.

Written in a woman’s clear, flowing handwriting, it began with "Dearest Ryder" and ended with "Love, Jane." Jealousy stung. So Ryder was married, or at least had a woman. "Katie and Marc are just fine. . . ," the letter continued. Sorely tempted to read further, she hesitated, then finally deciding she wouldn’t be that nosy, she dropped the letter. Besides, the less she knew about Ryder, the better.

****

Moving along the street, Ryder stayed close to the buildings, his face turned from the people as much as possible. He didn’t want to encounter Sheriff Bateman and have another close call. Even though Judge Meeker up in St. Louis could vouch for him, he didn’t have time for the sheriff to check out his claim. In only two days he’d be going into Indian Territory.

The traffic was heavier this morning. After last night’s storm, the sun shone brightly, reflecting against the mud and water in the streets. The fresh scent of rain still lingered in the air.

Ryder noted that it seemed the population of Arkansas City had increased since last night as well. People surged past him. Only two days until he could enter Indian Territory and head for the Oklahoma District sixty miles farther south where the wild run for free land would begin. A place he could start a new life where no one knew him or of his past, of his walking a fine line between two worlds - that of a lawman and one of a ruthless outlaw.

Who was Dannie running from?

Shaking himself, as if trying to shake her out of his mind, he looked down the street toward the livery.

A poster, attached to the side of a wooden building and flapping in the breeze, caught his attention. Getting a glimpse of a woman’s picture on it, he halted, and prompted by his lawman instincts, caught the edge of the paper. He sucked in a deep breath. Surprise rippled through him.

Dannie Jacobs and her brother, Parker, looked back at him from the blurry picture.

Reward, it read in bold, black letters. One thousand dollars for the return or information leading to the return of Danielle Jacobs, age 23, and Parker Jacobs, age 13. Telegraph Judge Mason Gilmer, Kansas City, Kansas.

Trouble. Big trouble. That’s what they were. He wondered why Judge Gilmer wanted them instead of a law agency.

Ryder had heard of Mason Gilmer before, a ruthless, hang ‘em high kind of judge who showed no mercy, whose reputation spread far and wide. Some lawmen considered him to be a despot. Criminals shuddered when they heard they were to go before him.

Was the judge Dannie’s husband? Father? Was Jacobs her real name? Was Hunter? Just who was she?

Wondering why he did so, Ryder yanked the flyer off its nail, folded it a couple of times, and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. No doubt he wanted no part of Dannie and her brother. He should count himself lucky to be free of them.

****

The large stable smelled of hay, leather, and horseflesh as Dannie and Parker went inside. Streaks of sunlight filtered through cracks and crevices in the walls as they made their way down the center aisle, taking stock of the horses in the stalls. Huge brown eyes gaped at them. A horse snorted, bringing Dannie’s attention to a magnificent, black gelding. Deep-chested, all muscle and sinew, the animal glistened like wet silk against the pale light, his eyes the color of ebony. Thinking she had never seen such a beautiful horse anywhere, she moved toward him. He looked at her warily, snorted and bucked his head. She inched closer.

"Hello, fella." Reaching out, she touched his nose.

"You’d better be careful, Dannie," Parker admonished. "He doesn’t look too friendly."

The horse stepped backward, still regarding her from watchful eyes, tossing his mane.

"I won’t hurt you." She stroked his neck. He blew through his nostrils. She continued to caress him, feeling the strong, hard muscle under her hand.

"Kin I help ya?"

Turning, Dannie met the narrow eyes of an older man. Twigs of gray hair stuck out like straw from under his tattered felt hat. "He’s a beautiful horse," she said, remembering that she was in disguise and lowering her voice a bit.

"Yeah, he is, ain’t he?"

"I’d like to buy him."

The man’s eyes widened a bit, then crinkled back to little slits as his gaze darted down Dannie’s frame. "He’s a lot o’ hoss fer such a pipsqueak young ‘un as you. ‘Sides, ain’t fer sale. I kin bet my life on that."

"Oh, if the price is right, I’d bet he could be bought. What’s his name?"

"Th’ owner’s or the hoss’?"

She smiled. "Both."

"Well, let’s see . . . ." The man scratched behind his ear.

"His name is Thunderbolt, and you don’t have enough money to buy him."

Dannie looked up. Ryder stood nearby, legs parted slightly, his gaze fixed on hers, arms crossed over his broad chest, the Colt gleaming on his hip. His expression hinted of a scowl, his blue-black eyes glittering with caution and irritation. Such deep, expressive eyes. To her consternation, smooth warmth slid through her.

"You’re not likely to find a horse in this town," Ryder added.

Her breath suddenly heavy, she forced her gaze off him. "Where’d you get yours? Steal him?" As if pulled by some magnet, she looked back at him. The blackness of Ryder’s eyes seemed to deepen, penetrating her to the core. Hauntingly spellbinding, she thought.

"He’s right, Miss," the stable owner chimed in with a nod. "With that there land bein’ opened in a couple o’ days, ever’one an’ his dog’s lookin’ for a hoss or somethin’ to get ‘em ‘cross the border."

"Seems Dannie didn’t plan her . . . his run into the territory too well. Must’ve been on the spur-of-the-moment decision to come down here." Ryder’s eyes didn’t waver, as if challenging her to dispute his word.

Uncomfortable, she squirmed, hiked up her pants by the waist, and glanced toward Parker. Then with a lift of her chin, she said, "I’ll find something."

"‘course, there’s Mr. Maynard," the older man said, rubbing his beard-studded chin. "He’s been bringin’ hosses in on the trains and sellin’ ‘em. Hear he’s brin’ some in this mornin’. An’ he ain’t sellin’ cheap an’ most of ‘em are barely broke."

"You say they’re coming in this morning?" She pulled her gaze off Ryder, hope rising in her.

"Yep, usually ‘bout now. On the seven o’clock train."

"Good. We’ll be his first customers."

"As the man said, they won’t be cheap," Ryder interjected.

With a snort, she boldly looked up at him. "That’s my business, isn’t it?" She stepped past him.

"Would you know a good horse if you saw one?"

She turned. "I know enough."

"You’ll need a blanket and saddle. Plan to buy those, too, or can you ride bareback?" He paused. "Or double?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Double?" She at first didn’t understand his question, then realizing what he meant, added, "Parker and I’ve ridden double before."

"In a wild race for land?"

His common sense irritated her. "No, I haven’t, just as I’d bet no one in this town has ever ridden in a race for land, including you." With pointed finger, she jabbed him in his chest with the pronunciation of every word. "However, I can do a lot of things you’re not aware of, Mr. Ryder!"

A smile tilted one corner of his mouth. His gaze darted down the length of her. "Oh, I’m sure of that, Dannie."

Recognizing the implication of his words, she with a huff, pivoted and started toward the door. Her face burned. The arrogant, arrogant cad!

"Oh, yeah, boy," the stable owner called after her. "I hear they’re lettin’ people cross the line into Indian Territory tomorrow ‘stead o’ day after, so ya better not waste time in findin’ somethin’."

She smiled. "Thanks." With another glance toward Ryder, she caught Parker’s arm and led him out of the barn.

With Parker beside her, Dannie moved through the crowds toward the railroad and marveled at the cot hotels, saloons, and gambling places that were housed in tents. At last coming to the depot, they halted and watched the string of restless horses being led off a freight car into a nearby corral. Noting the crowd of men already gathered near the train and around the fence, she frowned. Pushing and shoving her way through, she studied each animal moving past her, stamping, snorting, and bucking his head. She knew something about horses, albeit gentle, riding horses. But she had no choice. She and Parker had to have horses.

With a large brown one catching her attention, she followed it to the corral. Deep-chested and muscular, the feisty gelding shook his head, snorted, and strained at the tug of the rope. She swallowed.

"How much for him?" she asked the man at the gate, remembering to lower her voice and pull the hat lower on her forehead.

The man regarded her with a wary eye. "Too much fer you, I ‘magine, boy." He spat a wad of tobacco juice on the ground.

"I didn’t ask for your opinion." She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. "I asked how much."

The man looked from her to Parker. "Ya’ll makin’ the ride into Oklahoma country?"

"Just answer my question, Mister." She shifted her weight, praying that she projected a confident image.

"Don’t ya think ya’d better try ‘im out first? He’s never had a kid on his back and he’s a lotta horse and purty ornery."

Dannie again swallowed. The horse did look intimidating, feisty, and wild. Misgivings stirred. She glanced at Parker, but deciding this was no time to be timid, she nodded. "Yeah, I’ll try him."

The man hesitated, his gaze running over her again. He then lifted a bridle off the nearest fence post and slipped it on the snorting, prancing horse. Glancing uneasily toward her brother, she read the do-you-think-you should look on his face. Tightening the drawstring of her hat under her chin and with a gulp, she stepped into the man’s cupped hands and swung onto the mount’s back.

The horse snickered, shook his head, and pranced about as if trying to shake her free of him. With her heart in her throat, she tightened her legs around his body and clutched the reins until her knuckles ached. She noticed that the crowd of men waited like vultures for their prey to make a lethal mistake. Biting her lower lip, she nudged the horse forward.

He bucked. With a yelp of surprise, Dannie hung on. The men whooped. Yanking hard on the reins, she tried to hold him still. He danced about. And bucked again - harder. Lowering his large head, he arched. Determined to stay with him and holding her panic as tightly as she did the reins, Dannie gripped the leather. It cut into her palms. Gloves, why hadn’t she thought to wear gloves?

As if tiring of the game and setting his mind to rid himself of her, the horse suddenly leaped high and to her terror, she lost her seating. She flew through the air and hit the ground with a jolting, breath-stopping thud. Her ears rang. Pain tore through her. The men roared.

Then with horror, she realized her hat was off and her hair cascaded in massive waves over her shoulders.

"She ain’t a boy! She’s a girl!" someone yelled.

The gathering shook with laughter.

"Come on! Let’s get her back on his back an’ see if she can ride ‘im!" someone called.

Through the bedlam, Dannie heard Parker’s "Dannie!" She was yanked roughly to her feet, hands clutching her arms and shoulders. Someone grabbed her legs. She kicked hard and felt herself being lifted onto the horse.

CHAPTER THREE

Ryder pulled Thunderbolt to a halt and looked toward the end of the street near the railroad. Something going on in the corral certainly had the men entertained with all their whooping and shouting. With his lawman instincts surfacing, he reined his mount toward the crowd.

Riding through the men, Ryder moved to the fence. Two men held Dannie, kicking and writhing, as they attempted to lift her onto the back of a mean-looking gelding. One had a grip her feet while the other grasped her shoulders. Her hair swung full and free. Horrified and helpless, Parker stood nearby, his mouth agape, his eyes wide.

"You let me go!" she yelled, her arms and legs flailing.

The crowd laughed in unison. A leg suddenly loosened from the man’s grip. She kicked - hard. The blow landed square on his chin, knocking him into the dirt, out cold. The men roared.

Amused and somewhat surprised at Dannie’s spunk, Ryder rested his forearm on the saddlehorn and waited.

Another man approached her flying feet. With a yelp, she kicked toward him, catching him in the crotch. Screaming with pain, he bent over and scuddled into the crowd.

She squirmed. The man holding her shoulders almost lost his grip. She jerked, freeing her arm, and in one fluid motion swung her elbow backward into his face. Cursing and with blood spewing from his nose, he glared at her, meanness glittering in his eyes.

The men surged toward her, their shouts and cheers filling the air. Yanking free of his handler’s grasp, the horse reared, its hooves fighting air. His amusement disappearing, Ryder straightened and put his hand on the gun at his hip. Parker, as if petrified, stood helplessly to one side, his eyes wide, face red, his hands folded into fists.

Chastising himself for his foolishness and the risk he was taking, Ryder pulled the Colt from his holster, aimed, and fired. Dirt spit up at the feet of the men holding Dannie. The horse again reared and galloped to the far side of the corral. The crowd hushed, all gaping faces turned toward him.

"Put her down," he ordered through tight jaws.

In mechanical motions, the men set Dannie on her feet and backed away, their stares on him. Sending Ryder a quick, grateful glance, Dannie retrieved her hat, then, with Parker at her side, strode out of the corral.

"Hey, ain’t there a re-ward out for her?" someone yelled.

Stunned, Dannie cringed and hastened her pace. So Uncle Mason had put a reward for them out after all. Her and Parker’s faces were known. Her legs felt like rubber about to collapse underneath her.

Turning a corner, she and Parker entered an alley. Shaking, she sank to a crate and covered her face with her hands. Tears burned her eyes. How did she ever manage to fight like that? Fear? Yeah, that was it. Pure fear. Maybe she wasn’t so smart after all by coming out here. The men were rowdy, the women she’d seen so far were painted up like loose women. There were no decent hotels, with many of them looking as if a good puff of wind would blow them to smithereens. She and Parker didn’t even have a nail to hang their hats.

"Dannie." Parker’s tone was soft, still, and heavy with worry. "Maybe we should go back to Kansas City."

The urge to agree with him lay on the tip of her tongue.

"It’s too dangerous here. We’ve had nothing but trouble since we got here in Arkansas City."

New resolution shot through her. She’d never been a quitter. She wasn’t about to quit now. "No!" She glared at her brother. "We’re not going back to Uncle Mason. I’m not letting a little bad luck stop us. Are you?"

Parker seemed to wither under her scathing stare. "I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all."

Her heart melted and reaching out, she hugged her brother.

Ryder strode into the alley, his horse in tow. "I think you’d better make yourself scarce with that thousand-dollar reward on your head."

She looked up at him. "A thousand dollars, huh?"

"Aren’t you going to thank me for rescuing you from that mob?"

"I can handle myself."

"Yeah, for a little while." He nodded. "Then what? Those men weren’t about to give you a medal."

"Well, I’m glad ya came along, Ryder," Parker piped in. "Those men looked mean to me."

"I’m going back to get that horse." Dannie rose, jutting her chin, her gaze locking with Ryder’s.

"That wouldn’t be smart. That horse looks only half saddle-broke, and those men would have a lot more fun out of you than what they got just now."

Tugging on her pants, she stared up at him.

"Your pants chafing you?" he chuckled, unable to resist the barb.

Her cheeks burned. "My pants are not of your concern!"

Still chuckling, he looked toward the street. His smile faded. Catching her arm, he propelled her farther into the alley. "You’d better get out of here before that crowd changes its mind and comes for you to get that reward." His long strides urged her to a faster pace.

Jerking free of his clasp, she halted and glowered up at him. "I want that horse and if I wait, he’ll be sold. They’ll all be sold. Don’t you understand I . . . Parker and I need horses!"

For a long moment, she glared at Ryder. Never mind those intensely black eyes smoldering down at her, or the square jaw and strong chin, or the firm mouth tilted as if holding back laughter. A shiver moved up her spine. This man made her feel strange, unfamiliar feelings and yearnings. Like now. How would his strong face feel under her fingertips? His mouth against hers?

"Tell you what," he said at last, snapping her out of her dreamlike state. "I’ll buy the damned horses for you."

Caution surged through her. "How do I know I can trust you?"

An amused grin, bordering laughter, lifted the corners of his mouth. White teeth glimmered in the shade of his hat. "Had I wanted to steal your money, Miss Jacobs - it is Jacobs, isn’t it? - I would have done it last night when you were asleep."

Despite her efforts to the contrary, she felt a little smile touch her mouth, then she let it fade. "I can afford the horses."

Ryder shifted. Why the hell was he keeping watch over these two ragamuffins anyway? Dannie was a grown woman who obviously knew what she wanted. Furthermore, since she and Parker had made it from wherever they came from to Arkansas City, they certainly could make it the rest of the way into the Territory without him.

Because you’re a damned gullible fool. Instead of watching over them, he needed to keep his mind on getting a claim in Oklahoma. No matter how intriguing Dannie was.

He leaned against the wall of the building, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked down at her in the shadows. "It’s going to take a wad of money to afford two horses. Supply and demand is to the advantage of the seller in this case."

"I know that!" Her eyes glittered with annoyance. "I expect to pay a handsome sum for them."

"Maybe as high as five hundred apiece."

She didn’t blink. "While we’re here squabbling, they’ll be sold, won’t they?" Taking the carpetbag from Parker, she pulled it open and dug into it. Then as if on second thought, she turned her back toward Ryder.

Smiling with amusement, Ryder waited. He stiffened at the roll of money she came up with as she began counting off hundred dollar bills. No doubt she carried at least seven thousand, just as Parker had told him. All his good humor vanished. "Where’d you get that kind of money?"

"None of your business." Turning, she held several hundreds toward him. "There’s a thousand dollars there. Should be more than enough for two horses, don’t you think?"

"As long as it’s not stolen."

Her chin jutted a little further, her eyes took on a new glint. "It’s not. That’s all you need to know."

"Why does Judge Gilmer up in Kansas City have a reward posted for your return?"

Taken aback by his question, she stood speechless in front of him. "How do you know all that?"

"The same way those men at the corral know." Reaching into his breast pocket, he withdrew the folded flier and handed it to her. "Looks mighty suspicious to me."

Her blue eyes sparkled with disbelief, then anger as she read the poster then looked up at him. "No! I told you it’s not stolen money! And if you’re not going to buy the ding-danged horses for me, then I’ll do it!" Turning on her heel, she started to walk away from him.

Reaching out, he grabbed her arm, pulling her back toward him. She glowered, her cheeks red, her lips rose-petal pink, full, and pouty. For some reason she was like no woman he’d ever known. This one didn’t just stir his blood. She made it simmer.

"It’s not stolen, Mr. Ryder! Honest!" Parker said, his voice full of pleading.

Ryder let his gaze slide to her brother. His lawman instincts told him that they were telling the truth. "How did you two come by so much money, then?"

"What’s it to you anyhow?" Dannie jerked her arm free of his grasp. "After you buy the horses for us, we’ll be on our way and you’ll be on yours. We’ll never see each other again."

She was right. No need to get himself mixed up any more than he was with these two. He was setting himself up for being caught the more he hung around them. Stepping away, he took the money from her.

"You two wait here and I’ll be back." He swung onto Thunderbolt and gazed down into her face. "You’re sure you can handle that horse?" Her lips looked full and moist against the subdued light. He wondered what it would be like to taste that mouth, then mentally shook himself for having such thoughts. Before giving her time to answer, he reined his mount out of the alley.

****

"Do you have to play that thing now?" Dannie snapped as she paced the narrow alley and shot her brother a long, irritated look.

With a disgruntled sigh, Parker stuffed the harmonica into his pocket. "Wonder what’s taking Ryder so long." Seated on an over-turned whiskey barrel, elbows resting on his thighs, he cupped his chin in his palms.

"I don’t know. He’s probably taken off with our money." She glanced at the flier in her hand.

"He wouldn’t do that, Dannie. He’s too honest."

"Oh, pooh, Parker! You’re too trusting!" Agitated and worried, she wanted only to get those horses and head south. Thank God, they would be allowed to go into Indian Territory in the morning and not have to wait another day to get out of Arkansas City. With wanted posters out on her and Parker, the town was getting too hot.

She had underestimated her uncle. Why did he decide to have fliers distributed here in south Kansas of all places? Maybe he just took the chance that they might show up here. Or did he have men trailing them? A stab of ice pierced her heart at the thought.

Being a fearful man, Uncle Mason seldom ventured out of Kansas City. In fact, having come from Chicago, he’d never been west of Kansas City and vowed he’d never set foot any farther into the "barbaric west". It took someone crazy to live in an untamed land among wild Indians. His fear of the unknown bordered hysteria. That was the main reason she’d decided to participate in the run for land in an unsettled territory instead of living in a civilized town. Her uncle wouldn’t dream of her trying to live without the modern conveniences and comfortable lifestyle that she was so accustomed to.

Could she cope with a way of living so unlike the one she’d always known? The thought made her uneasy. Her gamble that she could had to prove right! It just had to!

Horses’ hooves clipped-clopped at the end of the alley. Astride Thunderbolt, his body bent forward, Ryder galloped toward her, two horses in tow.

"Well, it took you long enough!" she snapped.

"Get moving!" he hissed, his black eyes dancing with impatience. "They’re coming--"

"Who’s--"

"Dammit, we don’t have time to discuss it, Miss Jacobs! For your sake, you’d better mount up and get moving!"

"Don’t ya hear ‘im, Dannie? Let’s go!" Parker squealed, leaping onto the back of one horse.

Suddenly understanding and with fear cutting off her air, she jerked up the carpetbag and swung onto the back of one of the bays. Together the three of them galloped to the end of the alley.

"There they are!" someone yelled. "There’s Night Rider!"

A mob of men, some on foot and some astride horses, all carrying guns, pounded up the street toward them. Panic froze her. Ryder made a lightning flash turn down the street with Parker right behind him. Kicking her mount hard in the sides, she reined in behind them, her body bent low, a prayer on her lips.

The thud of hooves behind her seemed magnified a hundredfold, as if an entire company of troops was after them. A shot split the air. A cry of alarm escaped her. Another shot cracked. Ahead of her Ryder seemed to sway in the saddle. He grabbed his shoulder and bent further over Thunderbolt’s body. He tilted a bit, then righted himself.

Terror as she’d never known knifed through her. Gouging her heels harder into her horse, she pulled alongside Ryder and Parker.

They rode for what seemed like hours although she knew only a half hour or so had passed before they slowed their horses down. Now well south of town, they somehow had managed to elude the men. Still they rode until Ryder pulled his mount to a halt. With his wide hand covering the wound in his shoulder, blood trickling between his gloved fingers, he slid out of the saddle, then pulled his hand away and studied the injury in the sunlight.

Dannie reined her horse to a stop. Her teeth chattered, not from cold but utter fear.

"We’re as far as we can go," Ryder announced, glancing uneasily around. "We’re close to the border of Indian Territory."

Parker leaped out of the saddle and ran to Ryder. "Are you all right, Ryder?"

"Ah, just a flesh wound." He sank to a log, his gaze coming to rest on Dannie. "Ever cleaned a bullet wound before?"

New terror stabbed her. Cleaned a bullet wound? Of course not! Never in a million dreams would she have dreamed . . . .

"Well?"

Realizing she’d been staring, speechless, she shook herself and swung out of the saddle. "No. I’ve . . . I’ve never been around guns much." She gulped and focused on his blood-soaked shirt.

"Well, you’re going to learn." He glanced around. "That looks like a stream over there. Parker, how about filling up my canteen?"

"Yes, sir!" Almost as if pleased he was of some help, he yanked the container off the horse and tramped through the weeds.

"Be careful!" Dannie called. Dear Lord, how had she gotten them into such a predicament? Stuck somewhere out in the middle of nowhere with a wounded man? A man who someone back in town had called Night Rider?

The infamous outlaw Uncle Mason sometimes had made reference to? Her stomach churned.

No, no, he can’t be.

"Does it hurt?"

His glare made her wither.

"It burns like hell."

Embarrassed for being such a dunce, she turned, retrieved the carpetbag, and opened it. She pulled out a shirt and, biting a fold of it between her teeth, yanked, tearing a long strip off its hem.

Squatting beside him, she reached for the first button on his shirt, then hesitated. A quiver moved through her. Those black eyes, lit with amusement, bore into her soul, reading her as if she were yesterday’s newspaper. A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his wide, masculine mouth. Did he know how attracted she was to him? Could he read it in her face?

Forcing herself to look away, and before she lost her nerve, she began unbuttoning his shirt. Wordless, yet very aware of his intense study of her, she pulled his shirt open and tried to ignore the wide, hair-dusted chest and corded stomach.

"Do you do this often?" he drawled.

"What?" Wincing, she gently pulled the fabric away from his shoulder.

"Undress men."

Heat as hot as that of Hades surged from her hairline down to her toes. Then anger just as potent drowned her mortification. "You’re not hurt too badly if you can be so crude. To answer your question, I only undress them before I feed them to ants."

Something between a chuckle and a groan escaped him. With a shrug, he peeled off his shirt. Muscles rolled and glimmered.

"Oh!" She sat back on her heels and clamped a hand over her mouth. Oh no, was she about to throw up everywhere? Here in front of him? She choked down the lump of bile.

"It’s only a flesh wound." His brows lowered, his amusement gone. "In the meaty part."

Was it the sight of the blood or the sight of him that made her so breathless? "Is . . . . is the bullet in you?"

"No." He looked at her as if she were a child. "It only grazed me. I’ll live."

"Oh." Fiddle! How could she be such a ding-danged baby? Gently, she wiped away the blood.

His smoldering gaze didn’t waver off her. Quivering, Dannie expectantly waited. She wanted his kiss, to be held in his arms, and recognized the sizzling pull between them. Very ware of his bare chest, of the glint of muscle and flesh, she leaned toward him . . . .

Night Rider. Was he really Night Rider? Did she dare ask him? Probe further? The thought chilled her. She turned from him, shattering the spell between them. She was shameless to be so enthralled with such a desperado. One who stole and pilfered and perhaps murdered and raped.

Uncle Mason once talked about a ruthless outlaw gang that was wanted all over Missouri, Nebraska, and Northern Kansas for robbery and murder. The one known as Night Rider escaped and dropped from sight after his gang was captured. He hadn’t been heard of for a couple of years and speculation was that he was dead.

Her heart thudded. Were they in the company of Night Rider, the notorious outlaw? No wonder he was running from the law!

No, no, he couldn’t be such an evil person. Hadn’t he been kind, gentle, and concerned for her and Parker? A man of no scruples certainly would have taken advantage of them - stolen their money and maybe even taken liberties with her. Yet, the men had called him Night Rider. . . .

A tinge of fear moved up her spine. She stood, her legs unexpectedly weak. "I’ll go see what’s keeping Parker."

****

Night was coming quickly. Long shadows of trees angled across the vast sea of grass, draws, and hills. A low campfire flickered against the waning light. The soothing notes of "Yankee Doodle" lilted from Parker’s harmonica. Dannie sat Indian-style on a saddle blanket, doing her best to ignore the man leaning against a tree, whittling a stick.

He certainly didn’t look like someone suffering from a bullet wound. She reluctantly noted the clean trim lines of his body, the barrel chest, narrow waist and hips, and the hand wielding the knife with such skill. He seemed to be alert to every sound and sight around him, yet he looked at ease. Apparently he was accustomed to being watchful and on guard.

He didn’t look like a desperado.

Better play dumb and not be too inquisitive - not yet anyway.

Fearing what the night might hold, she sat as close to Ryder as possible, yet she didn’t want to give him the impression she was afraid - and hungry. Her stomach growled loudly in the stillness, humiliating her down to her toes. The hardtack Ryder had shared was hardly enough to appease her hunger.

"Better quiet that thing, Parker," Ryder said nonchalantly, his attention focused on his task. "It could bring those hunters down on us."

She swallowed and mustered her courage. "Did you spend all the thousand dollars on the horses?" she asked, defiance in her tone.

Still he didn’t look up. "The one you wanted was already sold. I managed to get these two. Besides, they’re gentler than the one you picked out. You probably would’ve broken your damned neck on him." Scowling with pain, he pulled a roll of bills out of his pocket. "And I saved you about five hundred dollars even after buying bridles, saddles, and blankets." Reaching for her, he lifted her hand and slapped the bills into her palm.

Jerking her hand out of his and shivering at the tingles his touch produced, she didn’t know whether to kiss or punch him. "I appreciate your help." Turning, she poked the bills into the moneybag.

"Bays," Parker announced, rising and moving to one of the horses. He ran his hand over its smooth coat.

"Good stock," Ryder said. "I think they’ll give most anyone a run for their money."

"Where’d ya get Thunderbolt?" Parker asked.

Dannie glanced at Ryder. She, too, was curious.

"Bought him from a rancher some years back."

"Bought or stole him?" Dannie snapped.

Ryder’s flashing, black eyes turned toward her. His rigid jaw flexed.

"Why are you protecting us, Ryder?" She gulped.

"I sure as hell don’t know."

"Is it our money you’re after?"

"If it was, I’d sure as hell already have yours and we’d be on our way to Kansas City where I’d collect the reward from the judge."

"You’d lie and tell him you didn’t have our money and we didn’t have any money on us, too. You’d keep it for yourself, wouldn’t you?"

Ryder’s black eyes glinted darker for a minute. His tight jaw flexed as their gazes locked, then his appraisal slid down her body, the implication of his expression unmistakable.

"If you think for one minute. . ." She glanced toward Parker. ". . .that by helping us out the way you have I’ll have anything to do with you--"

Ryder gave a quick, sardonic chuckle. "Don’t worry your pretty head about that, Miss Jacobs. If I wanted a woman, there’s plenty of them in town who would gladly render their services and they sure as hell don’t look like a ragamuffin boy."

That stung.

Ryder smiled to himself. Her obstinate chin jutted in the silvery moonlight and the slender column of her neck sloped into the gentle curves of her shoulders. He suspected that her curvy body under that baggy shirt would set off any man’s senses, while under that confounded hat was hidden a mane of rich, coppery hair that when free swept to the middle of her back. He hoped his common sense wasn’t about to take its leave, if it hadn’t already.

"Have you decided on a name for your mount, Parker?" he asked in an effort to force his attention off Dannie.

"Yeah, Ryder, after you," he answered, his face and eyes glowing with admiration.

Warmed by the boy’s words, Ryder shook his head. "I appreciate the thought, Parker, but the horse may not care for it much."

"Ah, he don’t care what his name is."

"I’m naming mine Outlaw, in your honor," Dannie announced, her blue eyes glittering in the pale light, as if waiting for his reaction.

"In my honor?" He lifted an eyebrow.

She cocked her head to one side, peering at him from under the brim of her hat, her expression speculative and cautious. "Only outlaws have reason to run from the law."

"Outlaws and runaways." He let his gaze dart to the bulge in her pants. "Where’d you get the derringer?"

With her hand flying to her pocket, she gaped at him. Her body seemed to relax when she found it still there. "How’d you know about it?"

He grinned. "You’re not very street-wise. It’s not hidden."

She glared at him. He knew something else was on her mind and waited.

"Have you ever been in jail?" she asked.

Knowing she was fishing, Ryder shook his head. "No." He moved his gaze back to hers and cocked an eyebrow. "Have you?"

"Of course not! Are you the outlaw they call Night Rider?"

Wide-eyed, her face registering horror, she stared at him, as if stunned by her own question.

Uneasy, Ryder shifted. "I’m no outlaw. I’m a U.S. marshal."

"Then why did those men call you Night Rider?"

"They were mistaken. Mistaken identity. That’s all and I don’t want to hear any more about it." With a groan and holding his shoulder, he rose and moved to the campfire. With the toe of his boot, he began kicking dirt onto the low flames.

"Why are you doing that?" Parker asked.

"It’s time we turned in. It’s getting dark and if we’re being tailed, we don’t want our light to be their beacon."

CHAPTER FOUR

"Do ya think he’s lyin’?" Parker asked from his pallet close to hers.

Ryder’s rhythmic breathing told Dannie he was sleeping. Chewing her lower lip, she studied his long, lean frame lying on the blanket several feet away. "I don’t know."

"I think those men were dead wrong about ‘im. He’s been too good to us. And he doesn’t act like an outlaw."

"How do you know what an outlaw acts like? You’ve never known one before." She sent him a scathing look in the moon-glittered night. "He’s certainly not a lawman. Lawmen don’t run from the law."

"Outlaws don’t take up with two runaways like us either, do they? He could’ve taken our money when he had the chance an’ he didn’t. He could’ve robbed us when we spent the night in his room an’ he didn’t."

Parker’s words troubled her anew. Just who and what was this man called Ryder? Was he indeed the infamous outlaw known as Night Rider? A merciless man who robbed trains for their gold shipments and army payrolls? One who robbed banks and disappeared with hundreds of thousands of dollars? Was that how he came by his magnificent stallion - stolen or bought with stolen money?

Her fierce attraction disquieted her more. It was shameful that she could be so enthralled by a man of no conscience. Yet, he had shown nothing but concern and gentleness - although rough around the edges - for her and Parker. How could a lawless man be so thoughtful?

"‘sides I saw how he looks at you. I think he kinda likes you."

She sent her brother a sharp glance in the moon-glittered night. "As usual, you’re seeing things in situations that aren’t there, Parker. I don’t like him in the least. He’s too arrogant, too sure of himself. I wouldn’t be attracted to him if he were the last man on earth, even if he is a lawman. Besides, I think he may be married."

Embarrassed, she wondered if he sensed how she’d wanted his kiss earlier in the day when she’d washed his wound. She hoped not. More than likely, he thought her to be a silly girl who needed to be spanked instead of kissed. Sometimes, she wondered if he wasn’t right. Had she been foolish to leave the security of her uncle’s home for a wild ride among strangers in hopes of getting some land? Had she been so naive to think that the judge wouldn’t come looking for her, especially since he had so much to lose?

And now, she and Parker were in the company of a man whom she didn’t know whether he was friend or foe, outlaw or lawman. And they were in the middle of nowhere.

****

Ryder awoke with a start. His shoulder throbbed with pain. Snatching up his gun, he bolted upright and stared into the night. What had awakened him? A soft breeze rustled against trees and grass. His gaze swept the camp. Parker lay sound asleep on his makeshift bed, his head buried in a folded blanket. And Dannie. . . .

He frowned. Where the hell was she? Angry, he stood and glanced around into the moon-dappled night. Nothing stirred. Glancing toward Parker to be sure he was all right, he strode out of camp toward the creek. Just like a hard-headed woman. Couldn’t be told a damned thing.

Shoving aside a tree branch, he suddenly halted, the sight almost bringing him to his knees. The soft moonlight turned her mane of wet hair to burnished fire-gold and glittered against her shoulders and the fine lines of her curvaceous body. Shaded in purple, her body glimmered here and there as if made of cream as she came, naked, up out of the water to the bank. He saw the flash of high, full breasts, shadowed curves and crevices as she retrieved a shirt off the tree branch and slipped into it.

She was certainly no ragamuffin boy.

Propriety told Ryder to turn and walk away without her being the wiser, but as if paralyzed, he couldn’t move, his body tense and aching. He swallowed hard and sucked in a long ragged gulp of air.

What a fool he’d been! Had he known back in Arkansas City that this waif was a woman of such lethal attraction, he would have turned and left her and never looked back. As it was, by letting his paternal instincts take control, he had latched onto her and her brother. He emitted a silent groan.

What he felt now certainly wasn’t paternal. Nothing but lust, pure and simple. If he could last until tomorrow morning, they would be on their way, and he would be on his. Maybe they would wind up on a plot of land miles from his in the Territory. He hoped. He couldn’t afford to get any more involved with her. Besides, there were still too many unanswered questions about her and Parker, and he sure as hell didn’t want to find out any answers and put himself in a position to feel further obligated to them.

As if suddenly sensing his presence, Dannie stiffened, and turned toward him. Although she faced him, shadows concealed her face.

"Who’s there?" Fear edged her voice.

All his arguments dimmed as he gazed at her pooled in the silvery moonlight. Damn! How was he going to get himself out of this and convince her he hadn’t deliberately followed her to watch her bathe? She’d think him to be a pervert of some sort and certainly less honorable than what she already thought him to be.

"Answer me! Who’s there?" Her voice pitched higher.

Deciding that he needed to let her know she had nothing to be afraid of, he stepped into the open. "I missed you back in camp." His voice was gruff with the effort to take control of the situation and his body. "What the hell are you doing out here this time of night?"

Hugging the shirt around her, she seemed to relax a bit. "What do you think I’m doing? Is it a habit of yours to watch women bathe without them knowing it?"

Crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to look convincing and authoritative despite his hammering heart and the pain in his loins, he answered, "Not at all. You’re foolish to have left camp. No telling what’s prowling around here after night, such as bobcats and panthers, not to mention snakes. Besides, that water is running pretty fast. It wouldn’t have taken much for you to be washed downstream."

As if suddenly fearful of spotting a wild animal, she flung a glance around her. "I can take care of myself, Mr. Ryder. Besides, what do you think we would’ve done if we hadn’t had the dubious luck to meet you back in town?"

"I wonder." He let a little grin slide across his mouth. "It sure as hell wasn’t in my best interest."

She blinked and backed up a step. "Then just what are you doing here?"

He saw the hesitancy, the sudden softness in her face. "I’d like to know that myself." Dropping his arms, he heard the thickness of his own voice. He was unable to turn and walk away. "I suggest you get back to camp."

"In time I will." Her nostrils flared. "Just as soon as you leave so I can get dressed."

Driven by a need so demanding that he couldn’t deny it, Ryder took a step toward her. She lifted her hands as if warding him off, then dropped them. Her breasts, their nipples growing taut under the cotton shirt, lifted with her deep intake of breath. A shudder moved through him. All his arguments for turning and walking away melted completely.

A flash of something warm softened the caution in her face. Trying to throw off the scorching ache of his body, he sucked in a long, ragged breath and stiffened.

Run as if the flames of hell were after you, Ryder.

"Dannie. . . ." He didn’t know he had spoken her name aloud until he saw the lift of her face and the question in her eyes in the moonlight.

The stillness between them suddenly became searing, tempestuous. Feeling as if he’d been hit in the gut with a fist, he studied her soft face, searching for an answer to his unspoken question. She shivered and he wondered if she was cold or if she was trying to resist their powerful attraction. His own blood raced through his veins, his ears roared. Suddenly aware that both of them were half dressed, that she wore nothing under her shirt, he let all his resistance crumble.

Ryder closed the distance between them. She didn’t flinch as she unwaveringly met his gaze, her sapphire eyes shadowed with passion that any red-blooded man would recognize. Succumbing to the unbearable urgency, he slid his arm around her, feeling her supple curves underneath the shirt. His other hand cradled her chin and lifted her mouth to his. A soft purr came from her as his lips closed over hers.

The contact was instantaneous, fiery, and demanding.

He gathered her closer, opening his mouth against hers, relishing the warmth, the moistness of her. Her breasts pressing against his chest were every bit a woman’s. The gentle curves of her body shot searing liquid through his veins. Her timid response to his ravaging mouth turned bolder as her arms slipped around his neck and she molded into him. She opened her lips to his probing tongue. Agony cut him to the core as he bent over, gathering her closer until every curve and plane moved against him. Her lips tasted like a heady wine with a punch more powerful than the strongest whiskey.

Too dangerous, Ryder. You have too many secrets. She has too many secrets. You’re getting deeper - way too far over your head.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the warning pealed with as much affect as ice water being thrown on his hot body. Moving his hands to her shoulders, he lifted his mouth off hers and stepped away. Their heavy breathing rasped against the silence. The stormy passion he saw in her eyes almost made him weaken again. His ears hummed. Then stubborn resistance darkened her face, and she lifted her chin defiantly.

"I think you’d better get back to camp," she whispered, her voice low and trembly.

"So do I." His tone was husky. Cursing himself for his weakness, he turned and strode back through the bushes toward camp.

Her legs giving way beneath her, Dannie dropped to the log beside her. Her body shook from head to toe. Her lips pulsated with the affects of his ravaging kiss. Never had she been kissed like that - with such depth and passion. Even Lawrence’s kisses never produced such wild, reckless desire in her. Lawrence, her first real beau. The man she once thought she would like to marry.

Why this man, Ryder? Lifting her hand, she glided her fingertips over her lips. Why did Ryder wring such wild passions out of her when other suitors failed? Why did she ache for a man of such dishonor? One wanted by the law, yet who claimed to be a lawman? One who murdered and robbed with no conscience? One who would be walking out of her life forever come morning?

She shivered. The sooner she and Parker rid themselves of this irksome man the better. Maybe he would claim a quarter section of land far from hers. Then she wouldn’t have to look into those bottomless eyes, full of reticent laughter, and wonder who and what he really was. And he wouldn’t be around to rouse these unfamiliar, warm feelings every time he looked at her.

Especially the way her body tingled with something hot, like molten lava like it did when he stood on the creek bank. It wasn’t so much as seeing the desire in his face, but the movement of his body as he stood there with his legs spread, his thick arms, rolling with muscle, crossed over his chest. She had felt his passion.

She had seen his passion.

Finally, she had tasted his passion.

And felt her own. She wanted more.

Lawrence had unaccountably disappeared after a few months of serious courting. Brokenhearted, she’d shut herself in her room, hardly venturing out for weeks. She suspected that her uncle was somehow responsible for Lawrence’s disappearance, just as she suspected that he ran off all the others who came courting. After all, Uncle Mason was in control of her trust as long as she remained unmarried until the age of thirty and it behooved him that she not get married until then.

Wanting to get away from her uncle’s abusive, domineering ways and after hearing that two million acres of land in Indian Territory were to be opened to white homesteaders, she had gathered her courage and decided to take her brother and flee. They had left Kansas City within twenty-four hours. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she’d encounter someone like Ryder, an intriguing man who made her blood run hot and cold, one who stirred such searing desire in her that it frightened her.

Oh, Lawrence’s kisses and caresses had roused vague unfamiliar yearnings that led her to believe intimacy between a man and woman could be enjoyable, but compared to what Ryder’s one kiss did to her, Lawrence’s kisses were cold, tame. She shuddered at the thought of the wanton behavior Ryder’s kiss might have led her to do.

Well, she’d never find out what he could lead her to do. No matter how attracted she was to the infuriating man, she’d never, never let him kiss her again.

Besides she still didn’t know his first name.

****

Instead of running from trouble, you’re looking for it.

Lying on his back, arms folded under his head, Ryder stared at the black, star-lit sky through the spreading tree branches. Instead of concentrating on Dannie, and remembering her heated kiss and the shapely feel of her, he needed to concentrate on staking a claim and sending for Jane and the children.

A lump formed in his throat. How he missed his niece and nephew, Katy and Marc! Of course, he missed his widowed, independent sister, Jane, too, but not with such deep longing as he did the children. He’d grown very fond of them ever since his brother-in-law died, and he couldn’t wait until he was settled down in the Territory where they would join him. His plans were to build a house for them close to his since Jane would insist on having her own home. At least, he’d be close enough to care for them and spoil Kate and Marc a little more.

He smiled as warmth curled around his heart. Was it possible to love his own children - if he ever settled down long enough to have a family - as much as he did these two?

Sarah once had been the love his life. He at one time thought he could settle down and have children with her. But that was before he decided to track down the Bartell gang and bring them to justice for the murder of his parents.

Before she decided she couldn’t live with a lawman.

The memory of her still hurt. Despite his efforts to banish her from his mind, the bittersweet time they shared still occasionally came back to haunt him, even after four years. The last he heard of her, she was happily married and had two children.

He laughed to himself. She was part of the reason he was here now, ready to participate in the country’s first land run for a homestead. Wanting to forget his past, he hoped to build a new life, a new future, and regain some sense of normalcy after the depravity he’d become while a member of the Bartell gang. He had to forget, live among good people, and become a decent man again.

And maybe one day go back to being a lawman.

That is if his involvement with these two urchins didn’t mess up his plans.

CHAPTER FIVE

The pale glimmer of light lifted the remnants of sleep as Dannie stirred and stretched. Suddenly remembering that she wasn’t lying in the huge tester bed within the security of Uncle Mason’s home but on the rock-hard ground out in the middle of nowhere, she sat upright. The hour was still early. Parker lay on his pallet sleeping, and a low fire crackled and popped under a blackened coffee pot. The aroma of its brew filled the air. Dannie’s stomach rumbled with hunger.

"‘ morning."

Turning, she saw Ryder, his face lathered with soap as he shaved in front of a small mirror hanging on a tree. She scalded with heat and forced down the impulse to run. His sleek body, naked from the waist up, tapered to narrow, hard hips and slightly parted legs, thick and bulging with muscle under denim. His barrel chest rolled and glided with each movement of his thick arms. Muted light gleamed against his hard, billowing back. Impervious to her, he slid the straight razor across his jaw, slung off the excess lather, and continued with his task.

She gaped at him, remembering his hot kiss last night, how his rock-hard body felt under her hands, and wondering if she would ever breathe again. He abruptly turned. A wide grin, full of amusement, yet hinting of intimacy, slid across his face. Embarrassed that he’d caught her staring, she threw aside the blanket and reached for her boots. "What’s for breakfast? I’m starved."

"Chipped beef and coffee." His gaze never left her, that irksome little smile tilting the corners of his mouth as if he was remembering last night, too.

She wanted to ask what chipped beef was, but refusing to show just how ignorant she was of surviving in the wilderness, she snapped, "Good."

Quivering and with ragged breathing, she slipped the last boot on, stood, and rubbed her hands down the side of her pants. It was a good thing they would be parting company today. Her awareness of him, of his nearness stung like a raw wound. Hiking up her pants, she moved toward the fire. "Straw would taste good right now."

"I only have one mug and it’s in my saddlebag, unless you have your own." His expression suggested that he knew she didn’t.

She sucked in a deep breath. Ding-dang him! "Why don’t you put on some clothes?"

He chuckled, a deep, low rumble that sent a crazy dance of shivers up her spine. His black eyes literally leaped with laughter. "I normally don’t have this much on this early in the morning."

Silence, filled with sizzling magnetism, fell between them. Flustered, she muttered, "I . . .I . . . we didn’t bring any . . . mugs, that is."

Shifting his weight, he looked at her as if chastising her for being a little less than bright. "You didn’t plan this trip very well, did you?"

"No, I don’t guess I did. I just assumed. . . ." She forced herself to look at him and again felt the shock of her attraction to him. ". . .well, I’ve never been out west before, I guess I thought there would be stores, or someplace to buy such things if I needed them. I never dreamed . . . ." Hearing her own babble, she stopped speaking.

"I gather you left - Kansas City, is it? - in a mighty big hurry."

She lifted her chin, moved her gaze off him. Oh, how he made her feel like a bumbling imbecile! Squatting down, she pulled a tin cup out of his saddlebag lying on the ground. A daguerreotype tumbled out, landing at her feet. A young girl and boy standing on each side of a pretty, dark-headed woman, smiled up at her. She ventured a quick glance toward Ryder. He had turned toward the mirror and was concentrating on his shaving ritual.

Jane? Her heart sank with the bite of jealousy. His wife and kids? She wanted to ask but thought better of it. The less she knew about this outlaw, the better. Besides, she didn’t want him to think she was interested in him enough to inquire.

"I smell coffee. We got anything else to drink?" Parker threw back his blanket and came to his feet.

"That’s it, partner," Ryder answered, "except for beans and bread I brought for later."

With a heavy heart, Dannie slipped the picture back into the saddlebag, went to the fire, and poured coffee into the mug. Jamming her free hand into her pants pocket, she did her best to ignore the irritating man standing at the tree.

"What time can we go on into Indian Territory?" she asked, sipping the coffee.

"Eight o’clock." He wiped his razor clean and dropped it into his saddlebag. "Better pack up and let’s get started."

"How far we gotta go before we get to the Oklahoma border where the run is going to start?" Parker asked.

"About sixty miles." Ryder took the mirror off the tree and put it into a saddlebag.

"That far?" Parker kicked at a rock. "I thought it wasn’t far at all."

"Indian Territory is only about three miles from Arkansas City, Parker. Oklahoma District is sixty miles farther south into Indian Territory."

Indian Territory.

Fear tugged at Dannie’s heart. What lay ahead of them now? Another prick of doubt nudged her. Had she been wise to bring Parker into a new country as yet untamed by white man? After all, they both were as green as corn about surviving in the West.

After reading about the land opening in the paper, she and Parker had packed and sneaked out the Gilmer Manor that night, buying food and supplies as they traveled by train to Arkansas City. Having been born and raised in Kansas City with all its conveniences, she never imagined in her wildest dreams how remote and uncivilized this part of the country was. In Arkansas City she learned that they could go no farther by rail, for no one was allowed to ride into the Territory and disembark anywhere. They would have had to ride right on through to Texas.

Yet, she’d only wanted to get as far away as she could from her uncle. Had she taken the time to think about where she was taking her brother and the hardships they were to encounter, she may have never left Kansas City. She and Parker could have just disappeared into its population. However, with her uncle being a prominent citizen, they probably would have been found very soon.

Not until now did she stop to wonder what lay beyond the Indian Territory border. She’d overheard conversations back in Arkansas City that only red men, invited white men, and outlaws lived in Indian Territory. Towns and forts were few and widely scattered. It was hard to comprehend a land where no established, bustling cities existed - only stage stations and a few watering stops for the Atchinson, Topeka, & Santa Fe train. Only the good Lord knew what waited for them between here and the time they reached the Oklahoma border. Indian attacks? Wild rivers to cross? Coyotes and rattlesnakes?

Taking a deep breath, she vowed not to lose courage and turn back now. She had always been a fighter, one who didn’t high-tail it when things got rough. Always adventuresome, she enjoyed a good challenge. By hook or crook, she and Parker would tough this out and one day she would be glad they came here where her uncle would never find them - at least until after she married or reached thirty when he would no longer be in control of her and Parker’s trust.

But for now it was just her and Parker against an unknown, untamed land.

"Are you gonna ride along with us to the Oklahoma border, Ryder?" Parker asked.

"Nope." Ryder threw the saddle blanket across his mount. "It’ll be safer if you and Dannie met up with other families near the Chilocco Indian School. You’ll cross into the Territory there." His gaze flickered to Dannie.

Alarm shot through Dannie. He really was planning to leave them. She wondered why she felt so disappointed - and abandoned. Had she become so dependent on him for protection she’d lost her guts?

Shivering, whether from fear of the unknown or Ryder’s intense study of her, she forced her gaze off him and ran her hands down the side of her pants. "I . . . I’ll be back," she said, starting toward the thicket.

"Where are you going?"

She glared at him. "To tend to personal business, if that’s all right, Mr. Ryder. And I don’t want to be followed!"

A quick grin flickered across his mouth. "Don’t go far."

With a light snort, she turned and disappeared into the brush and trees.

"Ryder." Parker stepped a little closer to him. "Are ya really goin’ to leave us?" He shifted his weight uneasily and lifted wide, shadowed eyes.

"Got to." He threw the saddle across Thunderbolt’s back.

"Why?"

The lad’s pleading tone pulled Ryder’s gaze to his face. "I’ve got things to do. I can’t have two tag-alongs to hold me up."

Parker’s eyes were round and hopeful. "I don’t want ya to leave us." He swung a quick glance toward the thicket. "You know Dannie’s doing all this for me, coming all the way down here to make the run for some land. She wants us to have a new life. We ran away from Uncle Mason ‘cause he was mean to us, to me especially. He hit me and tongue-lashed me all the time. He hit her, too. She wanted to get me out of it, so we ran away."

Ryder sucked in a deep breath, a dart of anger knifing through him at the thought of an abusive man toward a woman and a child. He had seen many of them during his days as a lawman and if he’d had his way, they all would have swung from the highest tree. In his way of thinking, no woman or child deserved to be beaten. His resolve to avoid getting any more involved with these two wavered. Reminding himself he would be making trouble for himself if he did, he hardened his heart. "She’s done a good job taking care of you this far. She can do it the last few miles."

Parker’s eyes glittered wetly, and Ryder suspected tears pressed close. Dammit, why did the kid have to bring this up now?

Digging in his pants pocket, his tongue protruding at the corner of his mouth, Parker pulled out a wad of bills. He held them toward Ryder. "Is this enough to get you to go on into the Territory with us?"

A tight band closed around Ryder’s chest. He swallowed hard. "Put that back in your pocket, Parker." Sitting on his heels, he turned away from him and rolled the coffeepot into his bedroll. "I’m not for hire."

"But ya gotta go with us!" His voice rose. "Back there in Arkansas City was the first time we really had any trouble! I can’t take care of Dannie if we run into any more bad guys who try to hurt her! What if someone else tries to steal our money again? We need someone like you!"

Dammit! With a long gulp of air, Ryder leaned his head against his forearm that rested on his knee. His resolve slipped further away. "Didn’t you two think about the danger when you decided to come out here?"

Parker sucked in a deep breath and pulled himself taller. "You told us you were a marshal! An’ you can help us! We trust you, Ryder! "

"Well, I don’t trust her!" He steeled himself against the boy’s arguments. "Before I ride with someone, I have to trust him . . . her."

"Why don’t ya trust us?" Parker’s chest puffed. His face reddened. "We haven’t done nothing wrong!"

"Two runaway kids with a lot of money. That spells trouble to me. I suspect you stole it from your uncle. I sure as hell don’t need the law on my tail because of you two."

"We didn’t steal it!" His voice lifted. "We took what belonged to us anyway. It was Uncle Mason doing the stealing! We just took what was ours!"

"How was it yours?"

"There’s something called a trust--"

"Get your things together, Parker Jacobs!"

Ryder turned. Dannie, her chin held high, her cheeks flushed pink, and hands balled into fists, stood just inside the camp.

"We don’t need Mr. Ryder, and I’ll thank him to take his leave so we can get on our way!" She glared at her brother. "Furthermore, I should box your ears! Now, do what I say!"

"What’d I do?" Parker’s eyes widened with bewilderment. "What’d I say?"

"Do what I said!" Dannie jerked a blanket off the ground and threw it over her arm.

Parker opened his lips as if to protest, then seeing the hot gleam in his sister’s eyes closed his mouth. With a puzzled frown, he looked at Ryder. Gut-wrenching regret and remorse moved through Ryder as he gazed down into that teary face.

Suddenly hurling the money at Ryder, Parker whirled about, strode to his bed, and yanked up his blanket.

Ryder stared at the ten-dollar bills swirling in the breeze around his boots. A lump filled his chest as he watched Dannie throw the saddle across her mount, her gestures short and jerky with fury.

Good riddance, Ryder tried to tell himself as he tied the bedroll on Thunderbolt. I don’t need them and they sure as hell can look out for themselves just as they’ve done ever since they left Kansas City.

****

"D’ya still mean it, Dannie, what ya said this mornin’ about we don’t need Ryder any more?" Parker asked.

Looking up, Dannie regarded her brother’s face in the flickering firelight. A soft night breeze whipped through his tousled hair as he stood before her, his face etched with uncertainty.

"Of course, I still mean it!" Not quite believing her own words, she heard the contempt in her voice. "What makes you think I doubt that we can finish this without him?"

"Ah, I dunno. The way you’re lookin’, I guess. Kinda sick and wishing he was here."

"Oh, hush, Parker! Check the horses, play your harmonica! Do something!"

Pouting, he dropped beside her on the ground, pulled the harmonica out of his pocket, and lifted it to his mouth. The soft, soothing tune of ‘Amazing Grace’ filled the air.

Parker was right. She did wish Ryder were here. Seeing him ride away just before they reached the border had filled her with the deepest longing she had felt since her mother’s death. He never looked back, his shoulders wide, his body straight in the saddle. With an ache knifing through her heart, she watched him ride over the nearest hill to become only a poignant, bittersweet memory. Until then she thought he would never really leave them. That maybe he cared enough to stick with them.

Wondering where he was, if he was somewhere close by, she glanced around. After meeting up with hundreds of others at the border and after a long, hard day of traveling, they were now camped at a place called Willow Springs somewhere in Indian Territory. Campfires and lantern light glowed against the night. Despite the cavalry troops acting as sentries all around them, she shivered with fear. Still, she admitted to herself that she would feel a little more secure with Ryder nearby, although she would never admit that to Parker. His admiration of the outlaw - marshal - or whatever - was getting to her.

For the first time since they had left Kansas City, a stirring of isolation, of loneliness, and real fear assailed her. Ever since they turned south she had watched for signs that her uncle’s men may be trailing them, and deep in her heart, she hoped to see Ryder instead. Had Ryder’s protection and care somehow muddled her thinking and clouded her confidence?

"Do ya think those men back in town are still after us, Dannie? They know about the reward for us," Parker said, knocking the spittle out of the harmonica. "Ryder--"

"Oh, hush about Ryder!" Hugging herself, Dannie moved to the nearest tree and leaned her shoulder against it.

"Why are you so sore? Are you missing him, Dannie?"

"Of course not!" She wished Parker would stop talking about Ryder. Ryder this and Ryder that were all she had heard since they left the border. Besides, she wanted to take the ding-danged hat off, but her fear of being recognized without it still plagued her.

Why was she so irritable? She and Parker were so close to getting into Oklahoma, only a few miles distant, yet her doubts had doubled, their intensity worrying her. What if they were being following by Uncle Mason’s men? How would she fight them? How would she keep them from forcing them to go back to Kansas City? Would their lives be worse off than what they were before they left? Probably. Knowing her uncle, he’d make their lives hell.

Hot tears welled up in her eyes. Ding-dang it! She’d never been such a lily-livered woman. She always handled herself better than this. Uncle Mason never made her cry in spite of all his tongue-lashings and blows to her face. Even when he hit Parker, she never cried. Only begged for mercy and always bent to his will.

"Dannie, do we have any more of Ryder’s bread left? I’m hungry."

Hastily wiping at her eyes, she turned and looked at Parker through the pale, flickering distance. Why did he always have to put Ryder’s name in every sentence? "In the saddlebag."

She wondered if Ryder was also hungry, wherever he was. Probably somewhere farther west, away from the throng of people since he didn’t want to take the chance of being recognized as Night Rider. Truth be known, it was probably best for her that he stayed away. How long could she have resisted him? He seemed to draw wild, careless sensations out of her, feelings she didn’t know she had in her.

That was one of many reasons she was so angry with him. Not only did he stir such deep pleasurable impulses in her, he also refused to take Parker’s offer of money to accompany them to Oklahoma. She still cringed and seethed at her brother for making such an offer to the blackguard, even though his heart had been in the right place.

Ryder didn’t care about them, least of all, about her.

****

Hell, why did he have to be their bodyguard?

With Thunderbolt nudging his arm, Ryder sat on the rotting log and watched Dannie walk away from the tree back to the campfire where Parker sat cross-legged on the ground. Lanterns made small circles of light amid the darkness that permeated the massive camp. Flickering firelight glittered against Dannie’s face as she sat down beside her brother and accepted a piece of bread from him. He remembered the taste of her lips, the soft curves of her body against his, the gut-wrenching way his own body responded to her. Deep yearning tugged at his belly.

Despite every argument he made to himself, he hadn’t been able to walk away from these two troublemakers. Parker was right. Hardly more than a child, he couldn’t protect them against assaults. They had been damned lucky to have made it this far without encountering trouble. Bounty hunters were probably looking for them, and he, Ryder, didn’t want them harmed. And as long as he kept distance between him and Dannie, he could handle the temptation of her.

"Hello, cowboy."

He turned to see a woman standing so close that the enticing fragrance of her perfume filled his nostrils. She looked down at him on the log, bright eyes and earrings glittering against the low, flickering light of distance fires and lanterns. His interest piqued.

"Hello." He slowly came to his feet, his gaze following the long graceful curves of her body delineated in a plain, though elegant gown of shimmering fabric. The roundness of ample breasts glimmered above its neckline. Her bare arms and shoulders glowed creamy in the paleness. She boldly met his appraisal with a wide grin.

"I’m Candy." Her gaze moved with deliberate ease down the length of him, then back up to his face.

Warmth rushed through him. "I’m Colin Ryder."

"I’ve watched you since this morning when I saw you up in Kansas, just waiting to catch you alone, away from people and prying eyes." She swung a significant glance around them, as if noting that they stood some distance away from other campers. "It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’re mighty interested in those two." She nodded toward Dannie and Parker. "I’m curious as to why two urchin kids are of any interest to you."

Amused, Ryder smiled. "Let’s just say I’m concerned about them."

"Well, I’ve been concerned for you all day long." She ran her hand over his shoulder and stroked his neck with her fingertips. She moved closer to him, her breasts brushing against him. He inhaled the redolence of gardenias rising from her bosom. "I haven’t seen a man on this entire journey as handsome as you." She leaned closer, pressing her body against his, her arm wrapping around his neck. "I have a schooner not far away. How about joining me for a drink and whatever else may interest you?"

CHAPTER SIX

Candy’s large, well-built Conestoga smelled of gardenias and gleamed in reds and golds. One lone lamp bathed the interior in soft light. Ryder marveled that a woman headed for a wild race for land managed to have such a richly appointed wagon out here in the middle of nowhere. What amazed him more was how she looked so clean and elegant while the other calico-clad women on the journey looked over-worked and plain.

"I have four wagons with four drivers, Ryder," Candy said, as if reading his mind. She sat down on the edge of the bed, which took up most of the interior. "This is the one I travel in. I also have two supply wagons and a wagon shared by three of my girls."

"You’re planning on opening a business down in Oklahoma?" Letting her take his hand, he sat down beside her.

She reached for the brandy setting on a nearby table and poured the amber liquor into two glasses. "If I’m so lucky to claim a lot in Guthrie." Turning, she handed a glass to him.

Appreciating the way her pink lips lifted into a wide smile and the way her cheeks dimpled, he grinned at her over the rim of the glass. "You’ll have a problem driving four wagons in the race."

She emitted a soft laugh and leaned close to him, pressing her breast against his arm. "I’m riding horseback," she muttered close to his ear. "I may look like all lace and silk, but when it comes to competition, I can be as tough as any man. I can ride with the best of them. Believe me."

Looking into her hazel eyes, he didn’t doubt her for a minute.

"What do you normally do for a living, Ryder? Your hands don’t show that you’re a rancher." Setting aside her drink, she ran her fingertips along his jaw and ear.

His body tensed with caution. "U. S. marshal who decided to come down here and settle. I hope I’m one of the few lucky ones to get a claim."

She smiled and cupped the side of his face with her hand, turning his gaze on her. "Just make sure you’ve got a damned good horse." Her voice was low, throaty. "You and I can certainly make good use of the next few days, Ryder." Her hand worked with the buttons of his shirt. "We can make this trip very pleasant for the both of us . . . ."

She planted her mouth against his throat, nipping and tasting. Warmth surged through him as he instinctively pulled her against him and moved his lips along her neck. Her hand slipped under his shirt and caressed.

It’d been a long time since he’d had a woman. A long time since he’d had any pleasure. Tasted sweet lips. Not since Dannie . . . .

With the jolt of a lightning bolt, his ardor fled, leaving him cold. Moving away from Candy, he stood and looked down at her stunned face in the pale light. Damn! Even Dannie intruded here. What was his problem? Why did he let Dannie Jacobs haunt him?

Well, he’d show her she couldn’t intrude in his life!

Reaching down, he pulled Candy to her feet, into his arms, and began unbuttoning the back of her gown. His mouth ravaged her face, neck and throat as he stripped off her dress and petticoats, letting them pool around her ankles. She removed his shirt. Her caresses became bold, leaving no part of him untouched, as he, trying to burn Dannie out of his mind, stroked and caressed, hoping to find relief for his aching body.

Still the image of Dannie, her supple body, her urgent kiss, her steel-blue eyes clouded with passion intruded into his mind. Angry, he shoved himself away from Candy and lifted his shirt off the bed. He stepped toward the opening in the canvas at the tailgate of the wagon.

"What’s wrong, Ryder?" Candy’s grew eyes wide with confusion.

"Nothing." He paused and raked his hand through his hair. "Nothing at all."

She gave a short laugh, breaking the tensed silence. "What is it? Another woman?"

"No." He slipped on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. "I’m not in love with anyone."

Her laughter deepened. "Seems to me you are." She stood near him. "You’re a very handsome man, Ryder. I can make you forget her and the agony. Just give me the chance."

He let a small wistful smile touch his lips. "Maybe another time, Candy." He touched her lips with his fingertips, then turned and stepped out of the wagon.

****

The camp was settling down for the night. Campfires and lanterns were being snuffed out as Dannie sent Parker a quick glance. He was playing ‘Listen to the Mockingbird’ on his harmonica, paying her no mind. Restless and agitated that she couldn’t sleep, she came to her feet. Besides, Outlaw seemed restless, too. Maybe she could quiet him down. Moving silently, she strode into the shadows where Outlaw and Parker’s mount stood tethered to a tree.

She would do her best to talk Parker into giving his horse another name she told herself with a twinge of anger, stroking Outlaw’s nose. Why had she let Ryder become so ingrained in her and Parker’s lives - even to the point of naming a mount after him, for ding-dang sake? She should have protested the name at the time he mentioned it. She couldn’t believe Ryder actually seemed pleased that Parker named his horse for him. Poor rascal. He’d probably never been so honored before.

A woman’s gentle laughter caught her attention. The canvas covering at the tailgate of an isolated, huge, red and blue-painted schooner swing aside and the figure of a tall, muscular man stepped out.

Dannie’s heart skipped a beat.

Ryder!

She’d recognize that arrogant stance and haughty carriage of shoulders anywhere.

Sucking in a long, painful breath, she watched as a voluptuous woman, clad only in pantalets and chemise, appeared at the opening. The woman’s ample breasts swelled, almost popping out over the edge of her chemise. Dannie had heard about the soiled doves in their midst right after they’d stopped for the night. Women whispered and muttered behind their hands, all the while keeping close tabs on their husbands. This lady of the evening certainly wasn’t welcome among the proper people, the reason for her wagon sitting isolated at the perimeter of the camp.

"I’m ready any time you are, Ryder." The woman’s voice floated across the breeze. "Just let me know."

Ryder turned, his magnificent body moving with ease and confidence, and smiled up at the woman. The pale glow of the lantern inside the wagon gleamed against his bare chest. "Sure," he answered, then strode off into the shadows, the hem of his unbuttoned shirt fluttering around his hips.

Dannie wondered if her heart had been ripped out of her chest. Hot, unwanted tears suddenly filled her eyes.

The no-good, hot-blooded bull! The impulse to kick and scream her hatred at him knifed through her as she stared after him as he disappeared into the night. Yeah, he’d stayed close to her and Parker, all right. Right in some trollop’s wagon where it was safe, warm, and sizzling. He didn’t give a tinker’s damn about her and Parker!

Lifting her leg, she kicked the trunk of the tree hard with her booted foot. The kiss they shared last night meant nothing to him. He liked women. Women stirred his blood. They were pleasurable to him. It was that simple. She, Dannie Jacobs, meant no more than that whore. He’d seen in her an easy target and took what he wanted. Another rush of hot tears filled her eyes.

Well, it’d be a freezing day in hell before he got near her again!

If only she was a drinking woman with a fifth of whiskey . . . . Didn’t a swig or two make one numb and not feel any pain? Running the back of her hand across her face, she gave Outlaw another pat, then moved toward camp.

Parker halted his playing the harmonica. "Where ya been, Dannie?"

"Out to soothe Outlaw." Her tone sounded sharper than she intended. "He’s restless."

"I heard ya leave."

"You should be asleep."

"Can’t. I’m too excited. And I’m worried ‘bout Ryder."

"The horse or that no-good scalawag?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, never mind!"

"I mean Ryder. I know my horse is all right."

"Would you shut up about Ryder?" She dropped to the blanket spread on the ground. "I’m sick to death hearing about him! And another thing, you’re going to give your mount another name, so start thinking about one!"

"But I don’t wanna--"

"I don’t give a tinker’s damn what you don’t wanna! You will not call him Ryder! Is that clear?"

"Nope, I like Ryder--"

"Then I’ll name him!"

"He’s my horse!"

"Then by the time we break camp in the morning, you’d better have another name for him!"

"What’s got you so riled up?"

"Nothing’s got me riled up! Just go to sleep!"

Parker flopped back down on his bed. "Geez! You’re sorer than a mad hornet, and I didn’t do nothin’."

****

Ryder awoke with a start. Lying still, he stared through the tree branches at the black sky above him and wondered what had awakened him. Of course, he hadn’t slept well from the minute he laid his head down, and he suspected it wasn’t the noises of the camp that kept him awake. The only reason he couldn’t rest was that blue-eyed woman dressed like a pipsqueak boy, who was as far from being boyish as any one could be. No, the memory of how she came out of the creek, her body glowing against the pale light dispelled any such notion that she possessed one iota of masculinity. Pure female. Nothing less. Another wave of stark, wanton need surged through him.

Impatient with himself, he came to his feet. Moonlight etched shadows of trees and wagons across the grass. Nocturnal birds chirped and an owl hooted. A baby cried. As if under no volition of his own, he headed in the direction where Dannie and her brother slept.

Halting a safe distance away, Ryder studied Dannie as she tossed and turned on the blanket. It seemed she, too, was having a restless night. He wondered why. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned his shoulder against a tree, content just to watch her from afar.

A flare of a lighted match in the darkness pulled Ryder’s attention off Dannie. The face of a man under a nearby tree glimmered as he put the flame to his cigarette. Throwing aside the Lucifer, he sucked deeply on the cylinder his gaze drifting to Dannie.

Caution reared in Ryder. Dropping his arms, he straightened, his attention no longer on Dannie. Past experience told him the man was up to no good. The man seemed to be too interested, too focused on Dannie.

One of Judge Gilmer’s men?

The man continued to smoke and watch Dannie. As the minutes slid by, Ryder’s curiosity and caution deepened. Yes, no doubt the man was too interested in Dannie. He strode toward him.

"Hello, stranger."

The man turned. With a powerful swing, Ryder smashed his fist into his jaw. With a cry of alarm, the man spun about and dropped to the ground, out cold. With a snort of satisfaction, Ryder pivoted and strode to where Dannie and Parker lay sleeping.

Dannie came wide awake, terrified, her heart almost coming out of her chest. Ryder’s shadowy face hovered only inches from her own, his hand clamped over her mouth. Her terror receded into anger. Trying to shake clear of his stifling hand, she emitted only whimpers of protest against his palm. His black eyes glittered above her.

"Be still! You’ve got to get out of here."

She again shook her head, trying to release his hold on her. His hand tightened. She gasped for air.

"If you scream, you’ll wake the whole damned camp!"

Finally deciding it best to find out what this was all about, she relaxed and made an effort to nod. Slowly, cautiously he lifted his hand.

She bolted upright. "What the--"

His hand clamped back over her mouth. "Let’s get out of here. I just put one of your uncle’s men on the ground." He gave a quick nod toward the prostrate figure.

Swallowing, her heart in her throat, she peered over Ryder’s shoulder. "How do you know he’s my uncle’s man?"

Ryder rose. "Lawman’s instincts. Wake Parker and let’s get out of here."

****

Ryder rode ahead of Dannie and Parker, his body straight and regal in the saddle, every line of his body tense, every sense alert. Ever since leaving camp, he had made a point to ride ahead, as if deliberately keeping distance between them. Bewildered by his demeanor and the fact that he cared enough to whisk them away from danger, Dannie regarded his wide shoulders in the pale light of the moon.

"I’m tired, Dannie," Parker said beside her in a whinny voice. "I bet we’ve come a hundred miles tonight."

"Oh, we have not. Just a few miles. Besides, according to the maps, there’s a river somewhere ahead and I’m not crossing it in the dark, no matter what he says."

"I’m glad he didn’t leave us, aren’t you, Dannie?" His tone brightened. "I knew he’d come back for us. I just knew it!"

Despite the flutter of her heart, irritation mounted in her. "I wonder why he did that, too. I wonder what he’s up to. Whatever it is, it’s not good." Even as she spoke the words, she didn’t believe them.

"Naw, I don’t think so, Dannie. He just wants to watch out for us, that’s all. Besides he told us he’s a marshal."

In frustration, Dannie bit her lip and glared at Ryder’s shadowy form ahead. "Well, I’ll find out." Spurring Outlaw in the sides, she left Parker behind and rode up beside Ryder.

He turned his dark gaze on her. In the pale silvery light of the moon, she saw the smoldering speculation in his eyes. She shuddered. Even under these circumstances, she felt the intensity of him. Her body tingled with awareness of his nearness, of the virile masculinity of him. She swallowed. "Why are you doing this, Ryder?" Her voice sounded edgy. The memory of seeing him leave that harlot’s wagon still preyed on her mind.

"Doing what?" His tone was short.

"Saving us from Uncle Mason’s man, if that’s who he was."

He shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"You don’t know for sure that the man was working for Uncle Mason."

Ryder’s gaze moved off her, focused into the darkness ahead. "No, but I have gut instinct. When you’ve been around as much as I have, you learn to spot suspicious characters."

She studied his profile in the pale light for a minute. "Most people have given names. Don’t you think it’s time I learned yours?"

He turned toward her. His jaw flexed with a little smile, momentarily disarming her. "You have another name besides Dannie, I’m sure. What is it?"

She shifted uneasily. "Danielle."

He grinned. "Colin. Colin Dale."

"Colin Dale." The name flowed off her tongue as smooth as silk. "I like it."

His grin broadened, his eyes smoldering with something deep and intriguing.

Parker rode up beside Ryder. "I’m glad you got us outta there whether Dannie is or not. I’m gonna stay with you."

Dannie sensed, rather than heard, Ryder’s groan. She smiled to herself. "I thought you left us north of the Kansas border," she said. "What made you change your mind? Did you miss our company?"

Silence.

"Or you’re hoping to elude the authorities by traveling with a woman and a child? After all, they won’t expect a notorious outlaw to be traveling with a family, his intent being on staking a claim and homesteading down in Oklahoma Territory. The usual reason outlaws come to The Territory is to hide out."

Ryder winced at her accusing tone. He, too, wondered why he couldn’t let these two go on their own way and he on his. Why did he feel so damned obligated to them? Because he knew men were after them, and he didn’t want to see them hurt any more than what her uncle had hurt them - especially Dannie? He was a hunted outlaw, yet a former U.S. marshal who protected and served the people. Once they were within the borders of Oklahoma, he would talk with the marshal, clear his name, and see what Dannie and her brother’s rights were as far as their uncle was concerned.

Damn! How he wished he could just walk away from them! Instead he kept getting further involved, his life entangled with theirs, his emotions no longer set aside. He had grown fond of Parker - and Dannie. . . . Well, what he felt for her was beyond fondness or admiration. It took a lot of guts for a woman to take on the responsibility of a younger brother and walk away from a life of luxury to embark on a hazardous journey into a wild, untamed land to start anew. That attracted him as much as her unusual beauty. He wanted her.

And that was dangerous. Dangerous for her. He was still known by many as Night Rider and, until people believed Night Rider to be dead, his life would always be in danger. The ones he loved would be in jeopardy, too. He hoped and prayed that by coming here to Oklahoma, settling down, becoming respectable, that over the years his life would return to normalcy.

But until then . . . .

The sound of rushing, gurgling water pulled him out of his thoughts. They had gone as far as they could in the night, for the Salt Fork River lay ahead.

"We’ll camp here for the night," he announced.

****

Ryder woke with a start. Reaching for his Colt beside him, he raised himself up and glanced around. Last night’s fire lay in cold, gray ashes and Parker looked to be just a still mound under his blanket. Dannie. . . .

Clutching his gun, he leaped to his feet. Her blanket lay in a heap near her saddle she’d used as a pillow, and she was nowhere to be seen in dawn’s pale light. Anger knifed through him. Would the woman ever learn he meant business when he ordered her to stay in camp? In long strides, he moved toward the river.

Then again, Dannie was no ordinary woman - at least any woman he’d ever known. Jane, his own sister, was the only woman he knew who came close to Dannie’s stubborn tenacity.

He saw her standing on the riverbank. Frothing water churned and boiled at her feet as logs, like gnarled fingers, swirled past. The recent rains had brought the river high, making it formidable obstacle in their path.

"Think you can make it?" he asked, hearing the gruffness in his own voice.

Turning, she lifted her gaze to him. Her hair, loose and free, cascaded over her shoulders like glistening silk. A jab of desire shot through him. He ruefully noticed that she no longer bound her breasts under the big shirt and they protruded high and firm. Sucking in a deep breath, he wished she would bind them again. At least she wouldn’t be quite so appealing.

Her gaze flickered for a moment. She took a quick, subtle intake of breath. "It’s scary, but I can make it."

"What about Parker? Think he can, too?" He stepped nearer.

She backed up a step, her gaze never wavering. Her face hardened. "I think so."

He heard the hesitancy in her tone. "How much does he know about riding? Are tame, docile horses all he knows?"

As if chilled, she crossed her arms over her breasts and clutched her upper arms. "I’ll admit the most strenuous riding we’ve ever done is a little competition. We’ve never faced anything like this."

"I heard back at Willow Springs that a temporary bridge was built a little farther east of here. Want to take the chance of not being seen by anyone who might recognize you and cross there with the others? It might be the better choice."

"What do you think?"

He detected a crack in her resolve, in her confidence. For the first time since meeting her, he sensed that underneath that fiery veneer was a woman who was beginning to question her wisdom of leaving a safe, secure lifestyle for a wild, uncertain one in an uncivilized territory.

"You and Parker will have to make that decision, Dannie." He was surprised at the compassion in his own voice.

A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth for an instant, then was gone. Her eyes deepened to a bluer hue. He wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of hers.

"I guess I’ll leave it up to him. He’s pretty aware of his capabilities on a horse. If he decides he’d rather cross by the way of the bridge, then we’ll go that way."

"And you?"

Looking up at him from under long, feathery lashes, she swept a strand of hair off her face. "I’m willing to take my chances. The water doesn’t look very deep - just swift. Our mounts are strong horses and are capable of swimming it."

"It’s hard to judge the depth. It’s deceptive." Ryder looked past her at the river. His heart skipped a beat as the fragments of a battered wagon surged past. Dannie turned, following his gaze. She gasped as the splintered wood bobbed up and down in the frothing water. Her face paled. Her hand flew to her mouth. Before he knew what was happening, she’d turned into his arms, her face buried against his chest. Startled, he gripped her shoulders, unsure of what she expected of him, yet he tensed with the feel of her body against his.

She gave a soft, muffled sob. His arms went around her, holding her close. All her tension was spilling over, her spirit beginning to crack, hysteria pressing. Having seen only the feisty, in-control Dannie, he found her sudden reversal disquieting.

"That . . . that family . . . . I wonder what happened to them." Her voice was strangled, her fist curled against his shoulder.

He was on fire. Blood drummed through him, making his ears roar, his heart hammer. Damn! Did she know what she was doing to him? Was she as innocent as he thought her to be? "Maybe they were saved," he heard himself answer, his voice thick.

For a long moment he held her, relishing, yet hating, the pleasure of having her so close. Only the rushing, gurgling water and the songs of wakening birds filled the cool, morning air. Ryder swallowed hard and ground his teeth against the onslaught of desire. Never before had he felt so vulnerable while holding a woman in his arms. Never before had a woman been such a tempest in his arms.

Suddenly pulling away from him, she brushed her hand across her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked up at him. The familiar, fiery glint flashed in her eyes with the stubborn tilt of her chin and the tensing of her body. "I guess we’d better go wake Parker. We need to get started, don’t you think?"

His throat closed. Unwilling to let her go, he tightened his arm around her, pushed his hand up into her hair, letting the silky threads glide through his fingers. Hardly realizing his actions, he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his.

No more than a whisper-soft touch, the kiss nevertheless sparked a deep passion in him. Yielding, yet cautious, her mouth moved and parted slightly with heated pliancy under his. His senses reeled, his desire urging him to gather her closer.

Something changed in her. Taking him by surprise, she leaned into him, the pressure of her lips conveying her own want of him. She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers tunneling into his hair, her body aligning with his, every curve and crevice molding against him. His arm tightened, his mouth parting, his tongue sweeping the warmth of her mouth. She purred from deep within her throat.

His hand glided upward over the soft planes of her back to her neck. He cradled her head in his spread fingers and deepened the kiss.

As if suddenly aware of how explosive the situation was becoming, Dannie stiffened and pulled away from him. Her eyes turned to a deep sapphire, burning with passion. Pink tinged her cheeks. A trembly smile touched her mouth, then faded. Her breathing was as labored as his in the still of the morning.

"I guess we’d better go." Hardly more than a whisper, her voice quivered.

"Yeah, I guess we’d better." He flinched at the thickness of his own tone. His body throbbed, his heart raced.

She turned and started toward camp through the hazy light. Mesmerized, he stood stone still and watched her go. Better watch it, boy. You’re just a step away from going off the deep end.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dannie’s gaze moved to Parker sitting on the horse next to her as they, with Ryder, waited on the Salt Fork riverbank. She noted how Parker licked his lower lip, his eyes wide and speculative as he studied the rushing water. He was a less experienced rider than she, and even though she had deep qualms about crossing the raging river herself, she thought she could make it. The decision as to whether they would try or move on east to the bridge was his to make.

"I think I can do it," Parker said at last. "My horse here is a strong horse and I’m strong enough to hang onto ‘im." Leaning forward, he patted his mount’s thick neck.

"Don’t let us determine what you decide." Ryder shifted in the saddle, a little uncomfortable with the boy’s decision. "You be damned sure you can make it."

Dannie lifted her gaze to Ryder on the other side of Parker. Although the broad brim of his hat shaded his face, his dark eyes gleamed at her. Remembering their fiery kiss, she squirmed with scalding heat. The memory of his mouth, its moistness, its warmth mingling with hers brought a surge of pleasure. The erotic sensations she’d felt as the solid pressure of his body molded with hers made her tingle. How could she have been so brazen? So loose? Was she no better than those painted women walking the streets back in Arkansas City and that one camped at Willow Springs? The one Ryder had visited.

Her ardor cooled. She forced away the images. She had to remind herself that he had also seen her weaken to the point of where she questioned her own decision to come to Indian Territory without much forethought or planning. Her focus had been only to get Parker away from Uncle Mason and his abusive ways. It was here beside the river that she came to realize how foolish and short-sighted she had been. Too many dangers lurked on unsuspecting, naive people such as herself and Parker. But they had come this far, and after discussing her doubts with her brother when he had awakened, they decided to go on into Oklahoma and make the run for land. Not until this moment did she see any uncertainty on his face.

Did Ryder think she was a weakling now that he’d seen her so vulnerable? Did he think he could now make his move by sweet-talking her, sweeping her off her feet, trying to convince her that she and Parker needed him? Just what was his intent? Did he really care about them or was he just waiting for the right time and place to take their money and run?

Or was he really a U.S. marshal as he’d claimed? If so, why was he running from the law?

She bit her lip. Nothing - absolutely nothing - about the irritating man made any sense.

Yet, even as she formulated the thoughts in her mind, her heart told her that he really cared. If only she could trust her heart . . . .

"I can make it," Parker said resolutely, breaking into her thoughts.

Ryder’s gaze shifted to Dannie, his rigid jaw twitching. Then testing the rope that tied the three of them together, he spurred Thunderbolt in the sides. "Then let’s go." He moved down the sloping bank toward the water.

Alarm hit Dannie as Parker fell in behind Ryder. She swallowed hard, trying to swallow threatening panic, and reined in behind her brother. She breathed a quick prayer.

The river was a nightmare of wild, raging water all around them as they moved off the bank. The horses snorted protests, lifted their heads, and swam hard. Dannie saw Ryder and Parker some distance ahead of her, bobbing up and down on the backs of their mounts, the surging, boiling water splashing over their shoulders. Through her terror, she could feel the powerful muscles of Outlaw working under her, plowing through the current, his head held high, his nostrils wide open. Her ears heard only the rumble of the water until she saw Parker sway, then topple into the wild water.

Something was wrong - dreadfully wrong!

A crack like that of a rifle penetrated the roar of rushing water. Terror almost paralyzed her. Shot! He had been shot.

Swinging a wild look back over her shoulder, she saw three men sitting astride mounts on the bank, rifles aimed at them. A rifle cracked, spewing water near her. She screamed with bone-chilling terror. Ryder twisted around in the saddle and spotted Parker tumbling and tossing about downstream, his arms flailing. Petrified, she watched as Ryder dove off his mount and swam with long powerful strokes toward her brother.

Her mount struggled toward the bank. Thunderbolt and Parker’s horse at last reached dry land and galloped to safety. Ryder was still swimming across the current, his own body rushing downstream as if he weighed nothing, his dark head bobbing in the rush of water.

"Oh, dear God, help us!" she heard herself scream, her heart frozen with fear. She shivered hard and swallowed water. Her lungs burned. Another shot cracked above the roar of the river. Parker was being tossed and tumbled about like a ball. Dannie’s teeth chattered.

Outlaw’s hooves hit solid bottom as he brought her out of the water. With tears stinging, she swung off him and stood on the bank, shaking with fear. She hugged herself and lifted her gaze to the men still on the opposite bank. Rifles spit red as bullet after bullet fired toward Ryder and Parker. One aimed his rifle at her. With a cry, she dropped to her stomach. The bullet whizzed over her head.

Daring to look up, she saw Ryder reach Parker. Still struggling against the current, he grabbed her brother and, wrapping his arm around the limp body, turned and started back through the watery quagmire toward the bank.

Lying flat on her stomach, Dannie waited. The men across the river also waited, but didn’t attempt to cross. Ryder and Parker looked to be nothing more than rag dolls being tossed about in the frothing waters until they at last came to the bank several yards down river. Ryder, carrying Parker in his arms, stumbled out and dropped to the ground.

Lifting her head a bit, she looked across river. The three men headed east at a gallop. She suspected they had decided not to try fording the river and were headed for the bridge. They would be back.

With fear choking her, cutting off her air, she jumped to her feet and ran toward Ryder and Parker sprawled on the ground. Breathing deep and hard, Ryder lay on his back. Parker lay unconscious on his stomach, blood pouring from a wound on his temple. A new surge of panic hit her. She dropped to her knees beside her brother.

"Parker!" Hot tears filled her eyes and ran down her face. "Parker!" Oh, God, don’t let him die!

He stirred and attempted to turn to his back.

Yanking the tail of her shirt out of her pants, she tore off the hem and wiped away the blood. He moaned. "Oh, Parker!" Her teeth chattered.

Parker lifted his head slightly and attempted to open his eyes. "W--What . . . ?" He fell into unconsciousness.

She threw a quick look toward Ryder.

Gasping for breath, he raised himself up. "We’ve got to get out of here."

"Parker!" She attempted to lift his head into her arms. Blood poured from the wound. Another stab of terror pierced her.

"Come on. Let’s get moving." Still struggling for air, Ryder squatted beside her. With gentle fingers, he turned Parker’s head and examined the injury. "I think it’s just a flesh wound." He took the rag from her. "Nothing serious. A superficial head wound always bleeds a lot. He’ll have a helluva headache." He wound the scrap of cloth around her brother’s head.

"Ryder." She couldn’t believe how soft and thick her voice came out as she looked at him kneeling beside her. His hair glittered with water, his chambray shirt plastered to his muscular body.

His gaze, dark and simmering, locked with hers. Time seemed to stand still. Overcome with gratitude, she opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She struggled to breathe with the overwhelming urge to move into his arms, to cling to him, and sob aloud. She needed the security of his arms, the assurance that he really cared. Yet, folding her fists into balls, she remained still. A dart of remorse that he soon would be on his own way, leaving her and Parker to fend for themselves, knifed deep.

"Thank you," she managed at last, her words soft and filled with emotion.

His eyes glittered with tenderness for a moment, his tight jaw twitching. Her heart swelled and hammered.

"Come on." Breaking the spell, he lifted Parker into his arms. "We have to put some miles behind us." He strode to Thunderbolt and, with the limp body of her brother still in his arms, climbed into the saddle.

They rode hard for an hour. With Parker drifting in and out of consciousness, they stopped only long enough for Ryder to shift him in his arms. Fear such as she had never known threatened to overwhelm her. She had never felt such overwhelming worry for anyone as she did for her brother and their safety now. She prayed that their assailants were far behind.

"We’ll rest here." Ryder reined Thunderbolt to a halt and slid off the mount with Parker in his arms. He gently laid him in the grass.

She swung off Outlaw and began untying her sleeping roll, her intent to make Parker as comfortable as possible. With blanket and canteen in hand, she moved to him as Ryder began unwrapping the wound. The blood had coagulated, its rivulets dried on Parker’s face.

Parker moaned and stirred as she knelt beside him and, together, she and Ryder washed his injury.

"Make him as comfortable as possible while I go down to the creek and get some willow bark." Ryder started to rise, blood oozing from his arm.

Without thinking, she grasped his arm. Stone still, they sat, focused on each other for a timeless minute.

She dropped her hand. "Are you all right?"

A flicker, almost as if appreciative of her concern, lit his eyes. "Just a scrape. Don’t worry about me. We’ve got to get Parker taken care of."

Dannie watched him move away from her, his broad shoulders and back straight with what seemed to be defiance. He walked with the arrogance of a man at ease with himself and his purpose. Ever since she’d first seen him, she had not seen any hesitancy, any self-doubt in him. Again, for the thousandth time, she wondered who and what he really was other than a man that could start her heart thumping with just his nearness or a look from those deep, expressive eyes.

Apparently her heart wasn’t the only one that hammered whenever he was near. Anger seared her at the memory of seeing him, half-dressed, emerge from that harlot’s wagon parked at Willow Springs.

How she wished she could snuff out her attraction to him as easily as snuffing out the flame of a candle!

"Dannie, my head hurts bad." Parker moaned, his hand going to his head. His brows knitted together.

"I know." She gently wiped the wet cloth over his face. "We’re doing all we can."

"What happened?"

She swallowed. "You were shot. But you’re not hurt bad. It’s just a flesh wound in your temple."

Lifting his head slightly, he glanced around. "Where are we?"

"Several miles south of the Salt Fork."

"Ryder? Where’s Ryder?" Panic edged his tone as he lifted his head farther and looked about.

"He’s gone for some willow bark." She pressed him back into the grass. "You lie still. He’ll be back in a minute."

"Willow bark? Why?" He grimaced and rubbed his forehead.

"It’s good for pain."

Parker’s eyes lit with admiration. "Boy, Ryder sure knows a lot of stuff, don’t he?"

Irritation jabbed her. Ryder, Solomon and Eros rolled into one. "Maybe. Now, you lie still and try to rest while we can. You want to make that land run day after tomorrow, don’t you?"

****

Twilight was sinking into darkness and a light breeze stirred the trees. Dannie shook her hair free, letting it cascade in waves over her shoulders, relishing the freedom from the hat. It would be nice when she could get rid of the hat permanently and out of these baggy clothes into a lacy, feminine gown. A low fire crackled and popped under the spit where the remnants of a couple of roasted rabbits still hung. She had to admit to herself that the meat tasted delicious, no matter how repulsive she at first thought eating such an animal to be. Duck and pheasant were the only animals remotely wild that she had ever tasted.

After stopping for camp and assuring her that the men who had shot at them at the river were probably miles away, Ryder decided to go hunting for food. At Parker’s insistence that he felt well enough to accompany Ryder despite his headache, the two of them took off, eventually returning with two huge rabbits. Repulsed, Dannie had ordered them far away from the campsite for the grisly task of dressing the hares. According to Ryder, Parker had been a quick study in the procedure.

She laughed aloud, miffed at herself. Just how had she thought she and Parker, two greenhorns, would survive out here in this wild land if they had not encountered Ryder? She warmed, thinking how foolish and naive she was and how much she had to learn about living in an uncivilized land.

A splash of water, a squeal from Parker, and Ryder’s deep, rumbling laughter lilted across the air. The two of them were down at the creek supposedly fishing, although she suspected they were bathing. Ryder’s rich, masculine voice always brought a catch to her throat, giving her pause. She could almost visualize him naked and lean, glistening against the soft moonlight, making her own body tingle.

Throwing the thoughts aside and scolding herself for being so obsessed with such a shameless man, she yanked the hairbrush out of her carpetbag and in long, sweeping strokes began brushing her hair.

The gentle mutter of their voices at last broke the stillness as they made their way back toward camp. With her heart picking up a beat, she continued with her task until they stepped into the realm of the flickering firelight. Their jovial voices hushed, and she looked up at them.

Ryder’s smile faded, his gaze locking with Dannie’s. Warm and liquid, her eyes glittered. A little, sardonic smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her hair framed her oval face in a long, wavy cascade of silk. He couldn’t look away from her.

"My head hurts." Breaking the spell, Parker flopped down on his spread blanket between. "But I don’t want any more of that ol’ willow bark. It tastes awful!"

Ryder forced his attention off Dannie. "It helped your pain, didn’t it?"

"Yeah, for a little while." Parker buried his head in his hands.

Dannie stood. "Maybe I should look at the wound--"

"No, Ryder cleaned it down at the creek." Parker stretched out on his bed. "He said it looks fine."

"Maybe your headache will be gone come morning after you get some sleep." Ryder squatted beside him, trying to keep his own attention averted from Dannie. He lifted Parker’s foot and tugged off the boot. He had to keep busy to keep his mind occupied and off the woman sitting on a spread blanket several feet away, whose hair glistened against the firelight, whose mouth shone full and moist, whose body sorely tempted him.

Had he made the right decision to stay with her and Parker after the attack by the men at the Salt Fork? He had weighed the pros and cons of leaving them long and hard. If he stayed and if the men were after him, their lives may be put in greater danger. Yet, if he went on his way and the men were their uncle’s paid trackers, their lives could be jeopardized if he wasn’t around to offer some protection.

At the same time, being so near to Dannie was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He wondered if he could distance himself from her until they reached the Oklahoma border where he would leave them for good.

Dammit! What a mess he’d gotten himself into!

"Good night, Ryder," Parker said. "You, too, Dannie."

"Sleep tight, Parker," she called. "Hope you feel better in the morning."

"Good night, buckaroo." Ryder watched the smile fade from the lad’s mouth as he drifted off into sleep. The rabbit hunt and the bath in the creek had exhausted him.

Reluctant to meet Dannie’s gaze, Ryder rose, massaged his wound, and moved to the low fire. The low croak of frogs and the chirp of crickets filled the silence as he kicked dirt onto the flames. Poignantly aware of her nearness, he had to distance himself from her, somehow shake off her powerful attraction. "Need to turn in," he said brusquely. It’s a big day tomorrow." He started in the direction of the creek.

"Ryder."

Her voice pulled him up short. Turning, he looked down at her. Her lips glistened full and pink, her eyes soft and bright. His chest tightened.

"You’re going to leave us when we get to the border, aren’t you?"

As if by no will of his own, his gaze slid across the gentle slope of her shoulders and breasts barely camouflaged by the oversized shirt. "We each have to run our own run, Dannie."

A slight pause fell. Her eyes misted. "I know. We both are grateful to you for helping us."

Another silent moment, taut with awareness, lapsed between them.

"Who do you think those men were that tried to kill us, Ryder?"

He swallowed hard and sank to a nearby log, deliberately keeping distance between them. "Can’t say for certain." He picked up a stick and, in order to avoid looking at her, began fingering it.

"But you have an idea, don’t you?"

He looked up. Her face glowed soft and creamy in the pale, flickering light. "They could be your uncle’s men, or they may have been after me."

"Uncle Mason’s men would have no reason to kill us."

He heard the defiance in her voice. "Wouldn’t he? Think about it. Parker mentioned a trust and I assume your uncle is the administrator of Parker’s trust, and maybe yours, too, until a designated time. If you and Parker never came back, were killed, wouldn’t the trust be his to do with what he wills? He really has nothing to gain by bringing you back alive while he’d gain everything if you never returned."

She blinked and glanced away from him. "Uncle Mason wouldn’t do that." Her chin quivered, her tone telling him that she doubted her own words. "He’s not a murderer. Besides it’s written in the will that if something happens to Parker and me, the trust goes to a charity. And he’s a man of the law, a judge who punishes people for doing what you’re accusing him of doing."

"Any man who would beat women and children wouldn’t hesitate to kill, in my opinion." He heard the anger in his own voice.

"Parker told you that?" Her eyes widened.

Ryder nodded, noting the way her hair lifted in the breeze and waved close to her tapered chin, how her skin glimmered like cream in the pale light. His heart ached for her. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but doubting that he had the willpower to keep her at arm’s length, he remained seated on the log.

"Parker sometimes tells things he shouldn’t." With hairbrush still in her hand, she rose and began to pace. "Is that why you didn’t leave us, go on your own way, this afternoon? Are you afraid that they might catch up to us?"

He shrugged. "Something like that."

"Parker and I’ve managed to take care of ourselves the entire trip. Seems that ever since you came into our lives, I’ve been knocked out, got a bruised face. I’ve been roughened up . . . ." Biting off her words, she sent him a quick glance. "Parker’s been shot, and we’re running for our lives. You’ve only brought trouble to us."

Realizing it was only her anger and frustration talking, he stiffened. He rose, his gaze fixed on her. She raised her chin and backed up a step.

"Funny, I thought I was of some help." He wanted nothing more than to strangle her.

"Those men may have not been after Parker and me at all. Suppose they were after you? You’ve got a price on your head, too, and your being here with us could put us in danger."

Ryder expelled a long breath. "You’re right, I could very well be doing that. But I have a choice. I can turn and walk away from you, and if the men are your uncle’s, I’d be leaving you and your brother defenseless against a bunch of henchmen who may have orders to kill you both. That’s the only reason I haven’t left you. I don’t want to leave you and Parker alone, which puts me in a helluva situation. I could also be jeopardizing your lives by staying here with you."

Dannie’s eyes flickered. Her expression softened, then turned hard, as if she was determined not to let him see her weaken. The urge to take her into his arms moved through him. He swallowed.

"Parker and I would have managed."

"Are you asking me to leave?" He took a step toward her.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it.

"Or do you know what you want?"

"I’m sorry I said those things . . . . Oh, I don’t know what to think! Yes, you’ve been good to me and Parker, but you’re a wanted outlaw--"

"A U.S. marshal."

She gave a short, sarcastic laugh. "How am I to know that? Show me your badge."

Suddenly feeling that he was losing this battle, he answered, "I don’t have it. When I resigned my commission, I turned it in. It’s a long story."

"Don’t you have a signed affidavit, something to prove that you were . . . are what you claim to be?"

He shrugged, knowing his story was going nowhere. "I had one but I had the misfortune of running into some thieves who took everything in my saddlebag, including the affidavit."

"How convenient!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned away from him and began pacing. "A U.S. marshal who doesn’t carry a badge or identification of some sort. I may have led a sheltered, pampered life, Ryder, but I’m not stupid. I already know you’re the outlaw, Night Rider, because you’ve been identified as him. But not once have I heard anyone claim to know you as a lawman."

Expelling a long breath, he backed up a step, his gaze still fixed on her upturned face. "I’ll prove to you when we get into Oklahoma that I was a lawman and no longer Night Rider. All the marshal there has to do is wire Judge Winfred Meeker in St. Louis to vouch for me."

Dannie seemed to relax a bit. He hoped that by some remote chance Judge Meeker’s name was familiar to her.

"Was that before you stepped outside the law?"

He wanted to shake some sense into her. "I infiltrated an outlaw gang that terrorized Missouri, Kansas, and Nebraska and brought them to justice. That’s how I come by the name Night Rider, and that’s why I’m still hunted as the outlaw. Not everyone knows my real identity as that of a lawman. I gave up a career to bring those murderers to justice. That’s why I’m here tonight. I’m trying to start a new life and rid myself of the past."

"Why did you ever infiltrate the gang when you knew what it’d do to your life? Why was it so important to you that they be brought to justice?"

Ryder’s eyes suddenly shadowed with intense sorrow. A deep sadness veiled his face. Regret surged through Dannie for the impulsive question. "You don’t have to tell me

. . . ."

He sucked in a long, deep breath. "I’d rather not talk about it."

The words hung thick and heavy between them. Seeing the pain behind those deep eyes, she heard herself say, "I’m sorry." Her voice was hardly a whisper. Tears burned. For some unexplained reason, she wanted to go to him and fling her arms around him but wouldn’t allow herself to be so vulnerable.

For fear of deepening his hurt, she spoke softly. "Night Rider had an incredibly notorious reputation. He was known to be slick and devious. He fooled a lot of people, including high-powered politicians and lawmen. I have no reason to believe you. Not until I know for sure that you were a marshal as you claim to be."

Coming to his feet and covering the distance between them, he yanked her against him and glared down into her face. Defiance and obstinacy rose up within her.

Ryder’s anger melted as fire of another kind swept through him. He studied the long, thick lashes over bright, liquid eyes, the high cheeks now blushed red, the tug of her full, moist lips. The shallow indention of her throat throbbed, enticing him, the desire to lean down and plant his mouth against her flesh searing him.

She stiffened under his hands. Her tension was of surrender - not of fear. Suddenly he knew she wanted him as badly as he did her. He felt her desire. Felt her body press against him, her hips mold to his, her legs move against the length of his.

Yet he sensed that her body was betraying her will. She wanted no part of him, to remain distant, to be able to turn off the fire in her. Her mind fought with her body. A satisfying sense of victory rushed through him.

"Lawman or outlaw, you want me, don’t you, Danielle?" His tone turned husky and thick. She was no longer Dannie to him but a desirable woman with a woman’s name. "You want me just as much as I want you."

CHAPTER EIGHT

God forgive her, how she wanted him!

She opened her mouth to deny his accusation, then knowing she couldn’t, closed it.

The depth of those blue-black eyes made her skin rise in prickly gooseflesh, biting, stinging, making her tremble with desire. As if he kissed her with that intimate look, his smoldering gaze roamed across her face and lingered on her mouth. A low fire seared through her, ready to burst into flames at his slightest touch. How she wanted him! No matter their differences, no matter the distrust between them, her want of him scorched her to the core. By a will of their own, her lips parted, waiting for his mouth to claim them.

Suddenly his mouth covered hers, open and massaging, his tongue flicking, tasting, and prodding in slow, easy strokes. His arms wrapped around her, holding her so close that she felt his heartbeat and the heat of him. A wildfire flamed through her, making her giddy with longing.

Her anger evaporated, dissolving her resistance into unmatched euphoria. She knew she should somehow resist him, yet as if powerless, she circled her arms around his neck and urged him closer. The security of his arms, the comfort of his solid body against hers, and the wild pleasure of his heated mouth possessing hers in a manner unfit for decent folks, overwhelmed her. She didn’t care that she couldn’t breathe. Opening her mouth to his, her own tongue searching, finding, and responding to his, she tunneled her fingers into his hair.

The heat of his hand penetrated her raging agony and ecstasy as they moved over her, caressing and feeling, making her skin burn even through her shirt and chemise.

There was no hesitancy, no timidity in him. He possessed the total confidence of one who knew what he was after, how he was to get it, and that he would achieve his goal. She had no willpower to stop him as his mouth left hers and brushed her cheek and ear with short, burning kisses. He nibbled and bit, then moved down her neck. She arched further into him.

She moaned. An unfamiliar need, so urgent and pleasurable, stormed inside her. The light touch of his hand on her breast didn’t shock her to reality, did nothing to expel the thought that she should stop him. Instead, she slipped her own hand inside his shirt. Her fingertips contacted hard, rolling muscle and soft hair, then found the short nub of his nipple. He shuddered with a quick intake of air.

Entangled, they stumbled behind a tree. Ryder’s strokes became bolder. Still she couldn’t protest as he lifted a breast, his thumb teasing the nipple while his other hand slid across her hips, over her waist to her stomach. His fingers contacted the buttons of her pants.

Her own caresses turned bold, splaying her hands over his chest, feeling him as if learning the substance of him. His mouth burned against her throat and shoulders. She teetered between sanity and insanity, wanting more and more of him, needing his touches and caresses. Her ears roared, her heart hammered, and only aware of being held in Ryder’s arms, she knew she was lost to him.

A squeak. A harmonica squeak. One lone, squeaky note.

Parker!

Stunned, she yanked her mouth away and stood, blinking into Ryder’s face. His eyes still glinted with passion, his brows lowered, apparently unruffled that their lovemaking had come to such a brutal, humiliating end.

As the harmonica lilted into the strains of "John Brown’s Body", her ardor cooled, her mortification flamed. With her breath coming short and jagged, she adjusted her clothing and stepped away from him.

"I should’ve sent that boy on a snipe hunt." Ryder’s voice was thick. Unfazed and as cool as a December day, he straightened his own shirt, leaving it unbuttoned most of the way. With a slow, easy smile sliding across his mouth, he reached out and touched a strand of her hair, letting it glide through his fingers. Then he turned and moved from behind the tree.

"What you doing up, Parker?" he asked jovially.

Trying to swallow her demoralizing embarrassment and wondering how much her brother may have seen, Dannie sagged against the tree trunk, bit down on her knuckle, and closed her eyes. Her legs felt as if they were about to give way beneath her.

"Couldn’t sleep," came Parker’s answer.

"Don’t you think blowing on that thing will make your headache worse?"

Dannie marveled that Ryder’s voice sounded calm, that it revealed none of the passion he’d just shown her. As in his lovemaking, he remained suave and in absolute control.

"Where’s Dannie?"

Trying to calm her thudding heart, she waited for Ryder’s answer.

"She’ll be back in a minute. How’s your headache?"

"I still have it. D’ ya think it’ll ever go ‘way, Ryder?"

Ryder chuckled softly. "Of course. It may take a day or two." A short pause followed, then, "What say let’s take a walk down by the creek? It may make your headache feel a little better."

"Don’t ya think we should wait for Dannie?"

Another short pause followed, and Dannie couldn’t help but smile. Maybe her brother’s question cracked Ryder’s staunch facade a little, the reason for the silence. Then Ryder answered, "Naw, she knows the way back to camp. She’ll find it. Let’s go."

"But what about those men, Ryder? What if they’re hidin’ out in the woods?"

"I doubt that. We’d already know they were out there."

Dannie choked back the laughter that rose into her throat. She didn’t know why she wanted to giggle. Maybe she was bordering hysteria. Maybe the last few days were closing in on her. Maybe her rampant attraction to Ryder was getting out of hand. Did Ryder represent the only stable, solid thing in this wild, untamed country? Was he the only security, the only protection she and Parker would have against her uncle’s men, should they show up? Maybe he was the only one she could trust after all.

Maybe she was getting too careless.

With the thought disquieting her, she moved from behind the tree and sat cross-legged on the spread blanket.

Gone for only a few minutes, Ryder and Parker came back into camp, the light of the waning moonlight glinting against their faces.

"Dannie." Parker came to stand in front of her, a bouquet of bright red flowers with petals tipped in gold held in his fist. "These are for you." He held them toward her.

Pleasantly surprised, she took them. "Thank you, Parker. They’re beautiful." She put her nose against one and inhaled its fragrance.

"Indian Blanket is what they’re called. That’s what Ryder said." His eyes glittered with admiration.

"Indian Blanket." She smiled up at her brother. "I’ll have to find something to put them in."

"It was Ryder’s idea that I bring ‘em to ya." He swung toward Ryder standing behind him.

"Ryder’s?" Blinking, she lifted her gaze to Ryder and, to her amusement, thought she saw a pink blush flicker across his face. Her heart swelled with the sudden realization that the only reason he’d taken Parker down to the creek was to allow her time to regain her composure.

"Yeah, he said they’d probably cheer you up." Parker still regarded Ryder, his candid adoration evident in his face.

Dannie couldn’t contain the smile that crept around her mouth. She understood that this was Ryder’s way of making amends for an embarrassing encounter. "Thank you," she whispered.

****

"Ryder! Hey, Ryder!"

Parker’s whispered call pulled Ryder out of his thoughts as he lay on the spread blanket, listening to the sounds of the night, very aware of Dannie’s sleeping form only a few feet away. The memory of holding her in his arms and of her heated responses to his kisses and caresses wouldn’t let him sleep. His body still ached with the want of her.

"Yeah, Parker?" He turned on his back, folded his arms under his head, and stared at the star-sprinkled sky above him through the sweeping tree branches. The night closed in around him.

"Are ya awake?"

"I’m awake. What do you want?"

There was a shuffle of movement in the darkness as Parker crawled across the ground and sat down beside him. His face looked curious and a little troubled in the pale light of the moon.

"Ryder. . . ." He flicked out his tongue and ran it across his lower lip. "What’s kissing for?"

Stunned shock-still, Ryder looked into Parker’s face. Had the boy seen more of what went on between him and Dannie than what either of them thought? "Kissing? What kind of kissing? Like a father kissing his son or daughter? A brother kissing his sister?"

"No." He ran his tongue across his lower lip. "I mean

. . . ." He shrugged. ". . .I mean like a man kissing a woman."

Still not quite sure of how to answer, Ryder cleared his throat and lifted himself to rest his back against the saddle he used as a pillow. "Well, it’s a sign of affection, Parker. If you love someone, you want to kiss them."

"Do you love Dannie?"

Not sure of where this conversation was heading, he lifted an eyebrow and, choosing his words carefully, answered, "Yes, as a person. You’re supposed to love people."

"But I mean . . . in that way. Ya know what way I mean."

"Oh." He nodded his head as if suddenly understanding. "You mean when a man wants to marry a woman."

A little grin spread across Parker’s face, looking relieved that Ryder understood at last. "Yeah, that way."

"Well, I haven’t known Dannie that long." The conversation was making him uncomfortable. Was the kid planning to hold a gun to his back and force him to marry his sister? "It takes time for love to develop and mature."

"Did you kiss Dannie tonight?"

Another wave of surprise rippled through Ryder. "Did you see me kiss her?"

"Well, no, but I was thinking ya did. I mean I figured that was why you were behind that tree with her so I couldn’t see. And if you did, I just want to know if you love her."

Ouch. "Well, Parker . . . ." He picked up a pebble and began turning it in his hand. "I’m attracted to your sister. She’s a beautiful woman, even dressed like a boy."

"Is that why you kissed her? Because she’s beautiful?"

Warmth rose into his cheeks. "Well, yes. When you get a little older, you’ll understand what I’m talking about. It’s a little complicated and that was my way of letting her know I think she’s pretty."

"Did she kiss you back?"

Ryder emitted an embarrassed chuckle. "I suppose so."

"So that means she thinks you’re handsome, doesn’t it?"

"Yes, I reckon it does."

"And by you thinking she’s pretty and she thinking you’re handsome means you two could love each other, right?"

Twisting his mouth into a lopsided grin, Ryder nodded. "Yeah, it could lead to love."

"Well, huh . . . ." Parker folded his legs, hugging them to himself, rested his chin on a knee, and looked at Ryder from the corner of his eye. "You know Uncle Mason is holding a trust for me and Dannie, and he can do that ‘til Dannie gets thirty years old or if she marries. Then she’s in control of it. We don’t wanna go back to Kansas City to live with Uncle Mason. I was wondering . . . ." He halted and shifted.

Ryder, almost holding his breath, wondered what would come out of the boy’s mouth next.

"I was wondering," Parker repeated, "if you would kinda think about marrying Dannie so we wouldn’t have to go back to live with our uncle even if he does find us."

Shock shot through Ryder. Laughter rose into his throat, threatening to spill out. He choked it back. "Your sister may not go for that, Parker." He made every effort to hold his face stern. "She doesn’t love me nor I her." I don’t think.

A tinge of anger lit Parker’s dark eyes. "You kissed her, didn’t you?"

Ryder’s uneasiness deepened. "Yeah, but a man and woman don’t have to love each other to kiss."

"You just told me that when a man and woman kiss, it’s a sign they love each other."

Feeling as if he had been backed into a corner, Ryder shifted his weight and glanced toward Dannie. He prayed that she was sound asleep and not hearing any of this. How the hell did he dig himself in so deep with these two? "Well, yeah, but I also said it was a sign they thought each other attractive."

"That could lead to love, right?"

"Well, it sometimes does. Not always." Hoping he was hiding his uneasiness well, Ryder flung the pebble out into the darkness.

"What if she has a baby? Then you’d have to marry her, then, huh?"

Shocked anew, Ryder gazed at Parker. How the hell was he supposed to answer to that? "She won’t have a baby, Parker." He again chose his words carefully. "A woman is supposed to be married first."

"But she doesn’t have to, does she? Besides you did kiss her and that could give her a baby."

Ryder wanted to roar with laughter but choked it back. Mustering all the strength he could, he still let a smile tug at his mouth as he answered in what he hoped was a calm voice, "No, Parker, that couldn’t give her a baby. Kissing doesn’t produce babies."

Parker’s eyes widened, his mouth dropped a bit. "It doesn’t?"

"No. Now, I think it’s time you get back to sleep. Morning’s going to come early, and we have another hard day ahead of us." He hoped that would end the conversation.

"But I’m not sleepy. And my head hurts."

"Well, I am sleepy and I don’t have a headache."

"What’ll give a woman a baby, then?" He ignored Ryder’s statement. "I mean, how does she get that way?"

Warmth spread over Ryder’s face. Turning away from Parker, he cleared his throat. "Well, a man and a woman - well, he gets her that way, Parker. Now, get to bed." He spoke gruffly.

"Then how if it’s not by kissing?"

Losing patience and determined to put an end to this inquisition, Ryder rose. "One day when you’re older, you’ll learn, Parker. Right now it’s time you got back to bed. I’m dead tired and you will be, too, come morning."

"Would ya think about marrying her, then?" He came to his feet. "We don’t wanna go back there to live."

"I’m not ready to make that kind of commitment now, Parker." He recognized the gruffness in his own voice, and gave the boy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "That’s something a man and woman do when they love each other and think the time’s right. It can be hell if they marry before either of them is ready. Now get to bed."

With his mouth puckering into a pout, Parker turned and shuffled back to his bed. Expelling a long breath of air, Ryder heaved a sigh of relief and sat down on the blanket. He let his gaze move to Dannie’s still form lying under the blanket only a few feet away.

Leave it to a kid to think of such a lame-brained idea. He wasn’t about to get married, especially to a fiery woman he hadn’t known a week, no matter how much she made his blood simmer.

****

Dannie’s stomach churned. Darkness was inching across the waving grass and rolling countryside. Hours ago she, Parker, and Ryder had reached the Oklahoma border where they’d set up camp near a pile of rocks that marked the Oklahoma line. After a meal of fish caught in the nearby creek, Ryder and Parker again left to go fishing. She declined their invitation to join them because, to be honest, the idea of putting hooks through worms made her queasy.

She was surprised and anxious to see how quickly the distant hills filled up with wagons, riders, vehicles of all kinds as people gathered to make the run for free land tomorrow noon. She and Ryder thought they had found a remote spot on the border where few land seekers would assemble. How wrong they were!

The thought disarmed her. Were they taking a big chance that she and Parker would be found by Uncle Mason’s men and that Ryder would be caught by the law? She would have to be a little more diligent in keeping up her masquerade than she had been the past few days. She wondered though if her sickish feeling wasn’t from the possibility of being discovered, or from the thought of the scary ride she would have to make tomorrow, or knowing that Ryder would be leaving her and Parker in the morning. Probably a combination of all three.

Would she ever see Ryder again? Something jabbed her heart. Despite her will to the contrary, she knew she didn’t want to part company with him. Hadn’t the kisses they’d shared meant anything at all to him? How far would she have let him go if Parker hadn’t intruded? Would she have mustered the strength to have stopped him if he’d persisted? She wondered and doubted. Had she become like a harlot to have such erotic thoughts about him? She shivered. It frightened yet thrilled her to think he may have led her into an intimacy she’d never experienced with a man before - even with Lawrence. Fact was she’d never had the desire to know a man as intimately as she wanted to know Ryder, practically a stranger, lawman or outlaw. She still wasn’t sure of what he was.

Looking up, she saw Ryder and Parker walking through the tall, waving grass toward her. The last rays of twilight slanted across Ryder, bringing him into such sharp focus that he took her breath away. He carried his shirt and hat as the breeze rippled through his black hair, blowing it away from his forehead. Somehow his eyes seemed darker, yet bright with laughter as his mouth spread into a wide grin, revealing white teeth. His body moved with the grace and ease of a stalking panther, his muscles rolling and gliding across his bare shoulders and chest. He took long, purposeful strides, his steps confident and sure, full of energy and tightly reined power.

Smooth warmth slid through her. Why couldn’t she breathe? She couldn’t take her eyes off him as they came nearer. It seemed as if the world stopped, pulling her into a vortex of rousing, unfamiliar passions where only she and Ryder existed. He was a perfect piece of art, a masterpiece of masculinity unequaled by any man.

"That’s not a toy, Parker," Ryder was saying as they came into camp.

"I know it, Ryder," Parker retorted with a snort, flipping the pocketknife open and admiring the long, thin blade and its bone handle adorned the initials CDR etched in silver. "But it sure is fancy. What does CDR stand for?"

A little sheepish smile curled around Ryder’s mouth, as if he was a little hesitant to tell him. "My initials."

"What does the CD stand for?"

"Colin Dale."

"Where’d ya get it, Ryder?" Parker turned the knife over in his palm.

"It was given to me as a gift." Ryder slipped into his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.

Dannie’s breath caught. Why didn’t he button his shirt? Did he know how he affected her and enjoyed making her miserable? "Oh? By whom?" she asked with a lift of an eyebrow.

His gaze came to her in quiet, intense scrutiny. Boldly meeting his eyes, she waited for his answer, feeling that she somehow had stepped on a soft spot of his heart by asking the question.

"A friend." His dark eyes never flickered.

"Jane?"

For an instant he looked startled, then a little smile flitted across his mouth. "I see you’ve been reading my letters - probably back in Arkansas City in my hotel room."

Indignant, she lifted her chin. "I don’t read other people’s mail."

His smile widened, his eyes glittering with laughter. "She’s my sister."

Relief swept through Dannie with such force she felt weak. She choked back the giggle that threatened to break her staunch facade. "And the kids?"

"My niece and nephew, Kate and Marc."

She noticed the intense pride and love in his tone. Her heart warmed toward him.

"Here." Parker reluctantly handed the knife back to Ryder then sank to a log and rested his chin in his hands. "We didn’t catch nothing."

"Maybe there’s no fish in the creek." She forced her gaze off Ryder to her brother.

"Yeah, there’s bunches of ‘em. They were leaping all over the place. They’re just not biting."

"Well, there’ll be other times and other creeks." Her awareness of Ryder made it difficult to concentrate on her conversation with Parker. "Besides what would you have done if you’d caught a bunch? We’ve already had dinner."

"Ah, I’d have given them away." He kicked at a rock. "Somebody would’ve taken them."

Ryder lowered his long, lean body onto the log beside Parker. "If you’re lucky, the claim you make tomorrow will have a good fishing creek on it."

"It’d better." With his expression brightening, Parker looked up at Ryder. "I could come and get you, and we could go fishing together."

Ryder lifted his gaze to Dannie, and everything within her stilled. His look seemed to embrace and caress her with agonizing sensuality.

"I doubt that I’ll see you after tomorrow morning." His eyes didn’t waver, as if talking more to her than Parker. "You’ve got a race to run and so do I."

"But why?" Parker’s face wrinkled up as if he was about to cry.

Pulling his gaze off Dannie, Ryder wrapped an arm around Parker’s shoulders. "Because that’s why we’re here . . . to win some land and settle down. I may make a claim miles from yours and Oklahoma is a big place. We may never see each other again." He sent Dannie a quick glance.

She saw the longing in his expression. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Besides, it’s best that you don’t have any association with me," he continued. "I’m a wanted man as far as most of the people are concerned, and they may shoot first and ask questions later. Some of them won’t care who gets killed in the process."

"But what if Uncle Mason’s men comes looking for us?" Parker wailed. "What’ll Dannie and I do?"

"I don’t think they’ll find you out here in these wide-open spaces."

A sharp pain cut to her heart. "Besides," she heard herself say, "Ryder didn’t come down here to baby-sit me and you. He has to get on with his own life." Suddenly feeling the threat of tears, she rose and went to Outlaw. She had to get away from Ryder, to put distance between them so she wouldn’t hurt so badly when he rode away. She began stroking the horse’s thick neck.

"Parker," she called, forcing the tremble out of her voice, "have you decided on another name for your mount?"

"I’m not gonna call him anythin’ else! His name’s Ryder!" His voice shook with emotion.

"And I said if you didn’t change it I would!" She turned to him.

"Parker, suppose I name him? What would you say to that?" Ryder’s tone was conciliatory. His arm tightened around the boy’s shoulders.

Parker’s face brightened a bit. "Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. What ya gonna name him?"

"Well. . . ." Ryder rubbed his chin. "Why not Landrush? He’ll be the mount that you’ll ride in the race on."

Parker blinked back tears and smiled. "That’s what’ll I’ll call him then, if that’s what you want."

"It’s what your sister wants, buckaroo." He lifted his gaze to her. "Landrush fits him better."

Turning, Dannie deliberately put her back toward him. Hot tears threatened. Scolding herself for being so weak and for crying over a man whom she had no chance of loving, she bit her lower lip and continued to stroke Outlaw’s neck. It was good that they were parting company. She shouldn’t have let things go so far between them that she let him kiss and touch her as no other man had. He moved too fast. After all, she’d only known him less than a week. Only loose women let a man become so familiar so soon, and she certainly wasn’t loose. Lawrence hadn’t made it past a few kisses that were little more than brotherly compared to Ryder’s and she had known him for over a year.

"Ryder, I don’t want you to go," Parker said, a tremble in his tone, pulling Dannie out of her thoughts.

"I don’t particularly want to go, Parker, but it’s best for all of us if I did."

"You think those men back at the river were after you, don’t you? That’s why you don’t wanna stay with us."

"I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think they were your uncle’s men."

"You’re right, they couldn’t be Uncle Mason’s men." Dannie focused her attention on her brother, refusing to look at Ryder, fearing he could read her real feelings in her face. "Our uncle’s not a killer. So it’s probably best if Ryder did go on his separate way."

Parker blinked and wiped a knuckle across his cheek. Then suddenly turning, he threw his arms around Ryder and clung to him. "Please don’t go, Ryder!" His voice was muffled and thick with a sob against Ryder’s shoulder. "I don’t want you to go."

Dannie’s own hostility wavered.

Ryder blinked, swallowed, and wrapped his arms around Parker. "I have to." He rested his chin on Parker’s head. "From the offset, I never meant to stay with you this far. You and Dannie are tough and can make it."

Dannie choked down the hard lump in her throat. Fresh tears built behind her eyes. She blinked. Her own heart ached with the realization that Ryder had become a loving father to Parker, a father he’d missed since their own had died eleven years ago. And she, herself, had come to feel secure with his nearness.

Folding her fists, she turned and moved out of the realm of the campfire. She didn’t want Ryder to see her weaken or cry for him. She had other things to think about - such as getting that claim tomorrow.

****

Dannie awoke with a start and stared at the tree branches above her. Wondering what had awakened her, she stared up at the dark sky, laced with the pink of a rising sun. Hearing the sounds of awakening camps around her, she heard a baby cry somewhere in the distance, a dog bark, followed by a rattle of harness. A horse snorted close by.

She sat up, her gaze coming to rest on a fresh bouquet of Indian Blanket wildflowers lying beside her. Curious, she picked them up.

The thud of hooves against hard ground broke the stillness. She looked up. Mounted on Thunderbolt, Ryder was moving away from camp, disappearing into the semi-darkness of the morning, his shoulders stiff, his body rigid in the saddle. Her mouth opened to call to him but no sound came. He really was leaving! Hot tears filled her eyes. Berating herself, she shut her mouth and wiped at her eyes.

The grass where he had slept lay crushed from the weight of his body. The coffeepot sat on a low fire. Her heart felt as if it was being ripped out of her chest. He had moved around camp, and she hadn’t even known it.

Now he was gone. Disappeared into the golden haze of the early morning.

Burying her face in the flowers, she let the tears come.

CHAPTER NINE

"Where’s Ryder?" Parker glanced around the camp, his eyes widening. "Where’s Thunderbolt?"

Dannie rubbed her forehead, wishing her heart would stop hurting. "He’s gone." A lump came to her throat, making her voice heavy. "He left this morning."

Parker’s chin quivered, and she knew he was fighting tears. "Why’d he up and leave us like that, Dannie? He didn’t even say good-bye."

"We knew he was leaving this morning, Parker." She studied the flowers still in her hand. "It was easier this way."

"Will we ever see him again, Dannie?" His voice was heavy with anguish.

"I doubt it. He has his own life and we have ours."

"But I thought he liked us." He choked with a sob.

Another threat of tears pressed against her eyes. "I’m sure he did, Parker, or he wouldn’t have stayed with us all this time."

"Then why couldn’t he have made the run with us?" He sank back to the ground and bent his head into his hands.

Her heart ached. "He didn’t want us to get hurt, Parker. What would’ve happened if those men found him here? Not only would they have taken him in, but we’d probably have wound up in jail, too, then we’d never have had a chance to get a claim. We might have gotten shot or escorted back to Kansas City. He didn’t want that."

"But what if Uncle Mason has some men out looking for us, too? What we gonna do then?"

"We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it." She was suddenly impatient with her own tears. "We don’t know for a fact that he’s sent men after us down here."

"But the posters--"

"The law in Arkansas City could’ve put them up for Uncle Mason. It doesn’t mean he had men there searching for us."

He emitted a little sob, and overcome with compassion, she went to him, sitting down beside him and taking him into her arms. "We may see him again, Parker. Yes, Oklahoma’s a big place, but it may not be that big. We can always hope we’ll see him again."

"What if those men catch him and put him in jail for a million years?" He sniffed loudly.

"They won’t do that. I think Ryder will outsmart them. Besides, Ryder claimed he’s a marshal, too. If he is, he shouldn’t have any more trouble as soon as he can get things cleared up with the local law people."

"Yeah, unless they shoot without asking questions first."

Dannie’s heart turned icy with Parker’s words. She blinked back tears. The sounds of awakening camps filled the air as the morning sun broke the eastern horizon, spreading its golden glow across the countryside.

"I asked Ryder to marry you." Parker’s voice was quiet against her chest. "And he wouldn’t do it."

Shock vibrated through her. Not sure that she’d heard him right, she pulled away from him and looked into his tear-stained face. "You did what?"

He blinked. "I asked Ryder to marry you so we won’t have to go back to Kansas City in case Uncle Mason finds us."

"Parker Jacobs! I can’t believe you did that!" Hot mortification burned from head to toe.

"Why not?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I thought it was a good idea an’ we wouldn’t have to go back to Uncle Mason’s, and we’d get the trust and everything."

"Who says we’re going back there anyway?" She pulled free of him. "What you did is humiliating beyond words! I don’t want to ever see Ryder again! Ever!"

Looking puzzled, Parker regarded her. "I was only trying to help."

"Well, that’s not the way to help! What if he thought I’d put you up to it? What if he thinks I want to marry him?" She jumped to her feet and yanked up the blanket. "That was a dumb, dumb thing to do! Now, get up and clear your bed!"

"He knows you didn’t."

She glared at her brother. "Did you tell him I didn’t know you were asking him to do such a dumb thing?"

"No, but he just knew!"

"Pick up your bed, and I don’t want to hear another word out of you!"

"Geez!" He rose slowly and lifted the blanket. "I can’t do nothin’ right. You stay mad as a hornet all the time."

****

Contrary to her will, Dannie found herself looking among the crowd for sight of Ryder as she sat astride Outlaw with Parker beside her.

"What’s wrong with you, Dannie?"

Parker’s question snapped her from her thoughts. "Nothing. Why?" She brushed aside a stray twig of hair.

"You look mad."

"Just anxious, Parker." She swallowed and focused on the people around them.

"You’re not worried that those men are still after us, are you?"

"No, it’s not that."

"Wonder where Ryder is."

"I really don’t care. Good riddance I say."

"Why?" Parker frowned at her. "Why are you mad at him? He was good to us."

"Oh, just hush about Ryder! We’ve got other things to think about besides him, such as getting through this race!"

"Are you mad at him ‘cause he wouldn’t marry you?"

"Of course not! I wouldn’t marry him if he were served to me on a silver platter!"

"Geez, why are you so mad?"

"I’m not mad!"

"You sure sound like it."

"I just want to get this race over with, that’s all!"

"Dannie." His tone was serious, his face troubled.

"What?"

"What if we don’t get any land? What are we gonna do then?"

A dagger pierced her heart with his question. She shifted in the saddle. Only a few minutes before noon and the people, thousands of them, were getting restless. Tension ran high. Horses snorted and pawed the ground, harnesses jangled, and nervous laughter and guffaws filled the air. "We’ll get some land, Parker. I’m sure of it. Quit worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet."

"Well, maybe if we don’t, Ryder’ll let us live on his land, don’t you think?"

If she weren’t so miffed, she would have laughed. "He’d be the last person I’d ask for help from! And don’t you mention his name again!"

"Geez!"

"Get your mind on this race and watch those soldiers. It’s getting close to twelve and when they fire their guns, be ready to take off." Her heart leaped with anxious anticipation at her own words. "Do you understand me?"

Suddenly realizing how silent the crowd had become, she tensed. The quietness seemed to echo across the wide-open spaces ahead of her - an eerie, unnatural stillness as the seconds ticked away. People glanced at watches, a horse whinnied.

She unexpectedly felt very alone and helpless. What if she or Parker was trampled in the rush? What if they became separated? What if Parker’s fears came to be and they didn’t get any land? What would they do? How would they live?

The crack of guns suddenly pierced the stillness, and with a crash of thunder, the people seemed to surge forward in one motion, their cries mixing with the pound of hooves and rumble of wagon wheels. As if propelled by some unseen force, Dannie’s and Parker’s mounts leaped forward into the throng of humanity toward the wide-open countryside.

Hardly realizing the thought had taken shape in her mind, she wished Ryder were with her.

CHAPTER TEN

"This is it, Parker!" Spotting the boulder protruding out of the sea of grass marking the corner of the quarter section of land, Dannie pointed. "I don’t see where anyone has claimed it, do you?"

"Naw!" he called over the rush of wind and beating horse hooves. "Looks like it’s ours!"

Without giving Outlaw time to come to a complete halt, Dannie sprang out of the saddle, stake in hand, her heart beating with the fury of a thousand horses, dropped to her knees and drove the stake into the ground beside the rock. "Northwest corner, Parker." She breathed hard with elation. "This is the Northwest quarter, that’s what’s written on the rock! I’m riding to the Northeast corner. Do you think you can ride to the Southwest marker and stake it, then ride on to the next corner? It’s only about a half mile between markers. I’ll meet you at the Southwest marker."

Nodding, he spurred Landrush in the sides and tore through the high grass southward, his shoulders bent forward. Biting her lip, she prayed that her brother would be safe, then bolted onto Outlaw and headed east at a breakneck speed.

At last spotting the marker under the spreading branches of a pecan tree, she leaped off her mount. From the tall waving grass a neatly whittled pole protruded.

Her heart seemed to stop. Another claimant! While she was staking the Northwest corner, someone had already laid claim on this corner! Disappointment then defiance raced through her. Well, all’s fair in love and war. Didn’t the saying go something like that? Well, this was war! With a sense of self-satisfaction, she drove the stake into the ground, then grabbing hold of the offending stick, yanked it up. With hand drawn back, she made ready to throw it as far as she could when initials carved into the wood caught her attention.

CDR.

Her heart seemed to stop.

CDR! No, it couldn’t be Colin Dale Ryder! Her heart rebounded, thumping painfully against her ribcage. She sucked in a long, deep breath. Defiance, mixed with elation, surged through her. Jerking her hat down on her head, she snorted triumphantly. So the outlaw thought he could intrude into her life again! Well, we’ll see about that! Biting her lip and with a grunt of satisfaction, she flung the stake into the tall grass. Then ignoring the nudge of conscience, she swung back onto Outlaw and headed south.

As she expected, she found a second stake with the letters CDR etched into it. Sweet revenge swept through her as she flung it as far as her strength let her. Standing with hands on her hips and watching the soaring stake, she tried to toss Ryder out of her mind as well.

The stick disappeared into the grass in the distance. There! That’d show him! She didn’t need him to help her build a new life here in the territory.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

Gasping and jumping with a start, Dannie pivoted.

And found herself staring into Ryder’s scowling face.

Towering over her, his entire body pulsating, his black eyes glittering, he stood not a foot away from her. A myriad of emotion swung through her: relief, joy, anger, and defiance. Deciding she wouldn’t let him intimidate her, she lifted her chin and pressed her mouth into a firm, hard line. "What does it look like?"

"This is my land!"

She wavered. The man she’d last seen disappear into the pale dawn of morning didn’t exist in this man looming before her now. He suffused only anger. And power. And strength. And incredible magnetism.

Could he be trusted?

They were so alone, out here in the middle of this vast prairie. No one for miles. No one to hear her call for help. No one to stop him from . . . .

No, Ryder could be trusted. Hadn’t he proven that the past few days? Against all her effort to the contrary, she felt something warm stir, then simmer inside her.

Most of all, she didn’t trust herself.

"No, it’s not! It’s mine!" Clenching her fist, she made a step around him. "You can move on to the next quarter section."

Ryder’s own defenses began crumbling. He wanted to feel nothing for her. He had his own plans of starting a brand new life, which didn’t include a fiery, independent woman. He’d had his bellyful of those kind, yet he wanted her as he’d wanted no other woman.

As if by will of its own, his hand shot out, catching her arm, swinging her against him. Unprepared for the traitorous reaction of his body against hers, he looked into her glowering face, eyes wide and round, mouth slightly ajar. Was it anger or desire he saw in her silver-blue eyes? Or both?

She strained away from him. With his good sense telling him to let her go, he tightened his arm around her, and, not sure of what he intended, he lifted the hat off her head and flung it away.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

To his own annoyance, desire totally inundated his anger. Why did this woman set him on fire? A woman who looked like a runaway orphan? One by one he pulled the pins out of her hair and dropped them. Long, thick strands, the color of reddish gold dust, tumbled over her shoulders.

"I want you. No, I need you," he muttered, against her lips.

"I don’t want you! Never in a million years--"

His mouth took complete possession of hers. He pushed his tongue between her lips, into the warm moistness of her mouth. Her womanly scent filled his nostrils, urging him on. His ears roared. Her resistance weakened, all tension gone as she gradually melted into submissiveness.

He shifted, bringing their bodies closer, her curves fitting against the planes of his body as if they belonged locked together. Her mouth opened against his. Her arms glided around his neck, and her fingers stroked his flesh. He moaned as his heated body responded to the pressure of her breasts against him, her hips cradled into his, her thighs aligned with his.

She suddenly tensed, pulling away from him, her breath coming in small, ragged gasps. "Ryder . . . . Parker . . . ."

Feeling as if he was dying a slow agonizing death from his need of her, his ardor cooling with the mention of her brother’s name, Ryder reluctantly loosened his hold on her. "Where is he?" He didn’t want to let her go.

"At the next marker."

Dropping his arms, he stepped away, the thud of his pulse slowing in his ears, his body relaxing with the ease of tension. "He’s probably found my stake by now." He fought to bring his senses under control.

She looked at him from glittering eyes under long lashes. One eyebrow arched. "I hope he did what I just did. Throw it away. As I said before you, you have to move on to the next quarter section. This is mine."

Her nostrils flared.

He let a little smile slide across his mouth. Yes, he’d deliberately stayed close to her and her brother, their safety uppermost in his mind. He still couldn’t let go of them. Even though he’d known their chances of staking the same land were good, he never thought that they actually would. "It’s a free-for-all out here," he said forcing gruffness into his tone. "The next section is already claimed. So is the next one and the next and the next. This is my life now. My past is behind me, and I’ll not let this land get away."

"How much would it take for you to move on and let me have it?"

He allowed his smile to widened as his gaze darted down the length of her, caressing her every curve before letting it move back to her face. "You don’t have enough money to buy me off."

"How much?"

"It’s not money I want." He again dropped his gaze the length of her, noting how her face reddened. He’d made his point.

Her chin tilted high. "I’m not available."

"Then we’ll settle our little land dispute in court." Knowing the gesture would further irritate her, yet compelled to do so, he reached out and touched her cheek lightly. He heard her quick, whisper-soft intake of breath. Dropping his hand, he forced gruffness into his voice. "Now find my stake you just threw away!"

Her eyes glittered dark. "I will not!"

The sunlight sparkled against her hair. Fighting his rousing body, he welcomed the anger that swept through him. "Like hell you won’t!"

In two long strides, he went to her, picked her up, and flung her, belly-down, over his shoulder. She kicked wildly and threw ineffective punches against his back as he moved through the tall grass to the spot where his stake had dropped. With a resounding smack on her upturned bottom, he set her on her feet. "Find it."

Her face beet-red, her eyes shooting darts, hands folded into fists, she stiffened her shoulders. "I will not!"

Almost toe-to-toe they stood, glaring at each other.

"Hey, what you doing out there?" Parker’s voice rang across the sweeping, crystal clear air. "Ryder! Hey, Ryder!"

Turning and swallowing her mortification, Dannie saw her brother, astride Landrush, gallop through the waving grass toward them, his face glowing with a bright smile. Reining up, he swung off his mount, darted to Ryder and started to throw his arms around him, then as if thinking better of it, offered his hand. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"

"I’m glad to see you, too, Parker." Ryder clasped his outstretched hand.

"What you doing here? Boy! I thought we’d never see you again!" Parker grinned up at him, his eyes shining with childlike adoration. "Did we, Dannie?" He turned toward her.

Very aware of Ryder’s penetrating gaze on her, she tightened her jaws. "No, we didn’t. It was quite a surprise finding him here."

"See, I told you Oklahoma’s not such a big place we might not ever see each other again." Ryder moved his gaze off her to Parker. "Except we have a problem. Seems your sister and I have claimed the same piece of land."

Parker lifted his eyebrows, a grin moving across his face. "You did? That’s great! Now, we’ll be neighbors!"

"I don’t think you understand, Parker," Dannie interjected, her irritation growing. "Both of us can’t lay claim to the same land. One of us has to go." She looked pointedly at Ryder. "And it’s not going to be us."

"But why?" Parker’s gaze swung from one to the other. "Why can’t we all live here together?"

"Because we’re not married and unmarried people can’t claim the same piece of land without going to court." Dannie rested her hands on her hips.

"You don’t have do that!" Parker’s face lit with exuberance. "All you have to do is get married!"

Dannie drew a sharp intake of breath, her annoyance turning to anger. "Parker, just keep your mouth shut . . . for once!" She spun on her heel and walked away. Still she heard Ryder’s chuckle behind her.

****

Ryder pulled Thunderbolt to a halt, a chill racing up his spine. He wondered if he shivered because of the panther’s cries in the distance or his gut instinct telling him the three men he’d seen back in Guthrie this afternoon were hunters – bounty hunters. The trail-worn men had emerged from the marshal’s office, almost meeting him face to face, when one of them made a comment about finding the judge’s niece and nephew. He knew without a doubt that they were looking for Parker and Dannie. He had to warn Dannie.

Resting his arms on the saddlehorn, he listened to the retreating screams of the panther as the last rays of gold succumbed to the darkness of night. The panther was moving north. Ryder knew its direction by following its cries, like those of a woman in distress. He wondered if Dannie heard the animal, too. The niece of a prominent judge who was raised in the city more than likely had never heard the scream of a wild panther before.

Nudging his mount in the sides, he rode to the crest of the hill and looked through the waning light toward Dannie’s camp less than a hundred yards away. The white canvas tent flapped in the breeze. Dannie had bought the tent only a day after the run in the mushrooming town of Guthrie, the very day she had filed her claim on the land - the day he had also filed his claim. They were told that sometime in the future - more than likely months away - the court would determine the rightful owner of the quarter section. In the meantime, they had no choice but to live peaceably side by side. Or unless one of them gave up his claim and moved on. And there was no chance of that happening. They both were as stubborn as mules.

He suspected that if he had followed his gut instinct and made the run miles away from Dannie and Parker, the chances of their claiming the same land would not have been so great. As it was, he made the stupid mistake of staying close to them.

Smiling to himself, he wondered if Dannie would continue to avoid him as skillfully as she had ever since the run. Even when he had voluntarily broken a plot of ground for a garden, cut firewood, and did several other chores for her, she managed to keep out of his sight.

Parker had become his constant companion. They hunted squirrels and rabbits together, went into Guthrie for supplies, fished, and bathed at the nearby creek. He thought it odd that Parker had not been allowed to go with him to town this morning. Dannie had staunchly refused, insisting that Parker had chores to do.

He let his gaze move across the spacious land, taking in the bright spring flowers nodding against the green grass. He stiffened. Across the distance, Dannie and Parker, with a man whom he didn’t know, were diligently setting fence posts.

So that’s it, he thought, anger piercing him. That’s why Parker wasn’t allowed to go with him to town. And who the hell was the stranger? Jealousy stung him. Spurring Thunderbolt into a run, he moved down the hill toward them.

Hearing the approach of a running horse, Dannie looked up from the fence post she held in place as Giles, her hired workman, shoveled dirt in the hole. Her defenses shot up. Ryder pulled his mount to a halt and swung out of the saddle.

"Ryder!" Parker exclaimed, his eyes wide, his face breaking into a smile.

With his piercing gaze boring into Dannie, then darting to Giles, Ryder strode toward them, his face looking as angry as a brewing thundercloud. "What the hell’s going on here?"

"What does it look like?" she asked, aware that Giles had stopped his work and warily looked from her to Ryder, then back to her. "We’re building a fence."

"What you’re doing is illegal." He turned toward Giles. "This land is in dispute, and no fences are to be put up." His dark gaze darted down the man as if carefully appraising him.

Dannie wondered, with delight, that if what she saw on Ryder’s face was jealousy. Did he think Giles was interested in her? Or she was interested in him, a tall, spindly man who looked as if he might blow away with the first puff of wind? She almost laughed aloud.

Giles backed up a step and ran his gloved hand across his forehead. "She just hired me to do the job," he answered in a slight Australian accent.

"Who are you? Are you from around these parts?"

Dannie was a little startled at Ryder’s pointed question, like that of an attorney grilling a witness.

"I’m Wilson Giles, from the Salt Fork Ranch up north of here."

"Kinda far from home, aren’t you? How did you meet up with Miss Jacobs?"

"Ryder!" Irritated, Dannie glared at him.

"I was in town and heard she was lookin’ for someone, and I offered, that’s all." Giles stiffened his thin shoulders, as if suddenly impatient with Ryder’s questions.

"Get out of here before I go get the marshal."

"You have no right!" Dannie stepped in front of him and scowled into his face.

"I have every right, Miss Jacobs." His cold, hard stare came back to her. "I’m sure the man wouldn’t want to get the law involved now, would he?"

"Is it true, Miss Jacobs? Is this property in dispute?" Giles asked.

"Well, yes, but--"

"Then the man’s right. You can’t legally put a fence up." Propping the shovel against the post, he turned and mounted his horse. "If you need anything else done, that’s legal, let me know." He flashed a warm grin, his gaze focused on Dannie. With a flip of the reins, he rode off in a cloud of dust.

Dannie’s fury soared, her body rigid, fighting the urge to punch Ryder. She knew he was right, but she had wanted to distance herself from this infuriating man somehow, even going to the expense of putting up a fence to separate his camp from hers. Or was she deliberately goading him because he roused such a myriad of conflicting emotions deep within her? Did she even trust herself?

His stone like gaze came back to hers. His tight jawed twitched, his black eyes blazed.

That mouth . . . . Remembering how it felt and tasted against hers, she forced herself to look away from him.

"Did you think you could get away with this, Miss Jacobs?"

She glared at him. "You’ve no right to barge down here!"

"I have every right!" He moved toward her.

She backed up a step. "I was on this land first! Besides, I doubt you’ve got the guts to talk to the marshal. Remember, you’re still a wanted outlaw!"

A little, sardonic smile crept around his mouth. "Not by Guthrie’s marshal. He’s already gotten confirmation from St. Louis that I’m who I say I am, Colin Ryder, former U.S. marshal."

A tensed silence fell between them as they stared at each other. Ryder shifted his weight. "Besides, I’d advise you not to be too damned trusting. Where’s your gun?"

"I left it at camp."

He arched an eyebrow, his glittering eyes darkening. "You may wish you had a cannon when you have to confront your uncle’s henchmen when they come looking for you. I saw a couple of men in town today and I suspect they are your uncle’s hired men. I thought you might want to know."

All her bluster fled. Alarm stirred. "Why do you think they’re Uncle Mason’s men?"

"I overheard them say they were looking for the judge’s niece and nephew. I doubt that there’s another judge in the country down here looking for his niece and nephew, do you?"

"Now what are we gonna do, Dannie?" Parker stopped entertaining himself by working the post back and forth in its hole. "What if they come lookin’ for us?"

A long moment passed as Dannie chewed her lower lip. "Well, I’m not going to worry about that until it happens. They may never find us. Besides, Ryder could be mistaken." She fixed her glare on him.

"Giles wouldn’t be a bad marriage prospect, I bet." Ryder’s gaze locked with hers.

"Giles? How did he get into this?"

He shrugged. "To avoid being taken back kicking and screaming to your uncle, you need a husband. Seems to me he’d make a fine one."

A chuckle escaped Dannie. "You’re jealous, Colin Ryder!"

"I’m not interested enough to be jealous." His black eyes never wavered.

Dannie’s heart sank.

"You are, too!" Parker chimed in. "Why else did you kiss her?"

Delight at the light blush that swept across Ryder’s face made Dannie laugh aloud.

"You two can get married and that’d take care of everything!" Parker swung his arms outward, his voice full of glee.

"Oh, hush up, Parker!" Her entire body flushed with mortification and anger. "We have to love each other to do that, and we don’t even like each other!" Grabbing his hand, she turned and started toward their mounts. "Come on. We’re going home!"

"Hey, what about this fence?" Ryder barked.

Turning slowly, she faced him. Despite all her superior efforts, she couldn’t ignore the magnetic pull he had on her. She stiffened. "I don’t give a tinker’s damn what you do with it! As far as I’m concerned, it’ll stay right where it is!"

"Fine by me! I’ll just move on this side of the damned fence. Maybe even in the same camp with you!"

****

Darkness closed in around Ryder. Lying on his back in his sleeping roll on the hard ground, he stared at the sky, streaking with the first golden rays of dawn. The awakening birds singing their first notes and the last sleepy hoots of an owl in the far distance broke the stillness. The light breeze brushed against his face as he folded his arms up under his head.

What are you going to do, Ryder? Be the protector of these two urchins for the rest of your life?

Turning his head, he gazed at the tent standing several feet away where Dannie and Parker slept. In spite of all his arguments to stay in his own camp, none were good enough to keep him away. Confident that the men he saw yesterday in Guthrie were Mason Gilmer’s men, he had convinced himself to sleep close by.

Even though it had been late, he made normal racket by riding Thunderbolt into their camp, unsaddling him, and making his bed. Neither of them awoke. A dangerous thing to do, he mused. They slept right through the noise. Gilmer’s men could have ridden into camp and taken them away before either of them became aware of what was happening. Trouble-making ragamuffins. That’s all they were.

Then why the hell didn’t he move on?

Agitated, he flung back the blanket, reached for his boot, and yanked it on. Because he cared, especially for Dannie. In fact, if he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that he not only cared for her, he was beginning to think he loved her.

With a muttered curse, he yanked on the other boot and stood.

He should have high-tailed it the first time he laid eyes back on them in Arkansas City. Now he was in too damned deep and couldn’t get out because he cared too much for Dannie. And was fond of Parker. He had been through hell with them to get here and now there was too much at stake to turn and walk away.

Besides, he had a life to build, too. He wanted a home.

In the distance a panther screamed. The animal was on the prowl again. A chill moved up his spine.

A startled cry came from inside the tent and Dannie, wielding the derringer in her hand, suddenly emerged from the tent and glanced wildly about.

Ryder felt something hot and smooth flow through him. She stood against the pale light, clad in a pink zephyr and lace nightgown, hair curling in loose, thick waves of gold-tinted auburn around her shoulders. Bare-footed, she looked to have just stepped out of a richly-appointed bedroom instead of a small tent in the middle of a wild territory.

Widening farther, her liquid-blue gaze moved to him. Her breasts crested under the silky material as she sucked in a long, deep breath. "What was that?"

"A panther." He could hardly breathe, but not from fear. From need. The need to hold her. The need to make love to her. The need to protect her from the slightest harm. His body tensed and hurt.

"Where is it?" She glanced about the golden-laced hills, taking a step in his direction.

"North of here." He didn’t dare move, for she still waved the gun about.

"Is he dangerous?" Her chin quivered.

"Not nearly as dangerous as you are with that gun, and only if he’s hungry. Besides, he’s a good half mile away." He shrugged. "Unless he can smell us."

Her eyes wide, she stared at him. "Smell us?"

He chuckled and relaxed a bit. "But we’re upwind from it. Besides that piece of metal you call a gun wouldn’t put much of a dent in his hide."

She lowered the gun, all fear apparently gone. Sudden glitter lit her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I rode in late last night. I slept there." He nodded toward his bedroll.

Her cheeks brightened. "Why did you do that? Don’t you have your own camp?"

Annoyance with her ingratitude for his protection raced through him. "I’ll be damned if you can fence me out." It’d be a cold day in hell before he’d let her know how much he cared, that he wanted to protect her.

She took a step toward him, then halting and wincing, she lifted a foot and massaged it. He caught sight of her shapely ankle and leg among the folds of her gown. Pleasure swept through him.

"Well, you’re certainly not going to sleep here every night!"

"Until that fence comes down, I will."

She glared at him through the soft light of dawn. Her chin stiffened and tilted high, her nostrils flared. "Over my dead body."

"It just might be that if your uncle’s men come looking for you."

"I don’t need you looking out for me! I can very well take care of myself and Parker!"

"With that snub-nosed gun?"

"I’ll buy a rifle the next time I’m in town."

He shifted his feet, letting his gaze fix on her. "Do you know how to use a rifle?"

Her chin lifted higher. "No, but I can learn."

"Are you going to take that fence down?"

"No."

"Then I’ll be sleeping right here."

"I’ll get the marshal."

"And he’ll do what?"

"Run you off. Or arrest you."

"He can’t do that. Until the courts decide which one of us is the rightful owner, I have every right to sleep right here."

Her chin trembled with stubbornness. "What will people think?"

"I really don’t give a damn."

"You’re despicable, Colin Ryder!" She took a deep gulp of air.

"Am I?" He moved toward her, his gaze unwavering.

She took a hesitant step backward, her eyes unblinking. "Yes!"

As if he was pulling her strength, the will out of her, Dannie stood mesmerized, his magnificent body seeming to fill the entire countryside. All she could do was stare, letting him come so close until he stood a hair’s width in front of her. His hypnotic gaze, the manly fragrance of him rendered her immobile. His gaping shirt flashed a titillating expanse of his hair-dusted chest and the breeze blew a strand of hair onto his forehead. His mouth, perfectly shaped, with a flirty tilt of its corners, came closer and she, suddenly eager to taste it, to feel its fire against hers, lifted her lips, waiting for his kiss.

He gripped her shoulders. She closed her eyes.

And waited.

Then he stepped away from her. His grasp loosened. Her eyes flew open.

He stood away from her, a little, amused smile lifting his mouth. Humiliation swept from her toes to her hairline.

"I’ve got work to do," he said. "And you’d better get dressed."

She couldn’t believe it! He was turning and walking away from her, leaving her with the want of his kiss! And he knew it! He knew it! Anger flamed over her. "You . . . you

. . . !" Her fury made her speechless. She gulped. "You’ll pay for this, you . . . you no-good son-of-a-gun . . . outlaw! You’ll pay for this! I promise! You’ll pay!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dannie stepped out of the millinery shop, halted, and looked up and down the busy street. Only weeks old, the town had all the makings of a progressive town where wooden buildings and tents were already giving way to brick, multi-storied ones. Boardwalks lined many of the streets and rumors were that electric street lights would be operating within the next few months. The town bustled with traffic, and for a moment it somehow reminded her of Kansas City, making her yearn for the comforts and the lifestyle she remembered so well.

Living off the land in a brand new territory without any of the conveniences she’d known was hard. She sometimes wondered if she would survive until a house was built, how much longer she would have to bathe in the creek, live in a tent with only a cot for a bed, and wear men’s pants. She couldn’t wait for the Warren’s barn dance.

Hugging the parcels close to her, she moved down the street toward the general store where Parker had gone to buy licorice. Amazed at how the prospect of going to the dance lifted her spirits, she felt like singing. She wondered if Ryder would be at the party . . . and how long the two men standing across the street had been watching her. Chills ran down her spine. They were strangers, their faces focused on her, studying her. Her mouth suddenly turned dry with fear.

Uncle Mason’s men?

Turning, she darted through the nearest open door and found herself in a dress shop. Panting as if she’d been running hard, she halted and looked through the plate glass window. The men had disappeared.

Was she getting panicky and only imagined that the men were watching her? Or were her fears justified? Were these men the same ones Ryder had seen several days ago?

Farther down the walk, a couple materialized out of the people. Laughing and talking together, they only had eyes for each other as they moved toward her.

Everything within her turned to stone. Ryder and the harlot he’d been with at Willow Springs were making their way up the street, their arms linked.

Suddenly lifting his gaze, Ryder met hers through the glass, the smile fading from his face, his eyes darkening. Humiliation burned through her. She wanted to turn and flee.

Pivoting and feeling tears well up, she glanced around the room. Why was she crying? Why did it matter to her that that no-good rascal was carrying on with that harlot?

An array of dress forms clad in bright gowns stood about the interior. A satin dress of flaming red and lace, with a daringly low neckline, caught her attention. So he liked his women bright and gaudy! Well, she’d show him!

"I’m Marybelle Rushton. May I help you?" An older woman, all smiles and clad in gingham, appeared from the back of the store.

Hastily brushing her fingertips across her cheek, she lifted her chin. "Yes. I’d like to look at your corsets, petticoats, especially a padded bust improver, and I’m very interested in that dress. May I try it on?"

Down the street, with Candy holding his arm, Ryder let her lead him into the saloon. He halted. His desire for a pleasurable time had fled with the startled, then angry look he’d seen on Dannie’s face just beyond the glass windowpane a minute ago.

"Aren’t you going upstairs with me?" Candy asked, throatily.

He glanced around, his desire for a pleasurable evening waning further. Men crowded its stark interior, smelling pungently of new wood and stale smoke. Laughter mingled with the clink of glasses.

"No, I don’t think so, Candy." He squirmed and wondered why he couldn’t accept Candy’s offer of a soft, warm bed and a curvaceous body to assuage his needs.

Then on second thought, he knew why. That auburn-headed woman with the fire of a she-devil made his desire for any other woman turn cold. He wanted no other. Just Danielle Jacobs. She was the only one who could fulfill his hunger. The only woman with whom he felt completely out of control - the reason he’d stepped away from her several mornings ago as they stood in front of her tent. He couldn’t trust himself to turn and walk away contented with just a kiss. She ignited a fire that burned so deeply and furiously in him that none other ever had - even feminine, coy Sarah dressed in frilly lace and ribbons. Dannie, bold and fiery in her denim and plaids stoked his ardor to a hotter intensity.

He chuckled at his own foolishness.

"What’s funny?" Candy asked beside him, her expression revealing her irritation.

"Sorry. Just a thought."

She snuggled closer to him, lifting her face toward him. "Wanna share it?"

"No." He looked down at her, a little irritated with her boldness. "I’ve got to buy a rifle, then get back to camp."

Her lips pouted, then she stepped away from him, anger lighting her eyes. "What’s wrong with you, Ryder? I’ve done everything but drag you to bed, still you resist. Is there another woman?"

Reaching for her wrists, he pulled her arms down. "I have to go, Candy." He turned and strode out of the saloon, hearing her sardonic snicker behind him.

****

Dannie worked frantically. Her fingers at last touched the whiskey flask buried in Ryder’s saddlebag. She pulled it out and stared at it. Her nerve almost left her. She’d never drunk a drop of hard liquor in her life. Mild wine was all she’d known, but there was a first for everything.

Besides, this was different. She wanted a good night’s rest in order to forget Ryder with that - that woman. Parker was spending the night at the Warrens and she wanted to be in a deep sleep when Ryder came back to camp - if he came back before morning.

And she had no wine.

Yanking the cork out of the bottle, she squinted at the amber liquid. Then before losing her nerve, she brought it to her lips and took a long gulp.

Fire! Pure hellfire! It burned down to her toes. Coughing and sputtering, she raked her tongue over her lips. How could anyone drink this stuff?

She heard that people drank it to make them sleep. And people like Ryder who was trying to forget his past. Maybe it’d help her forget, too.

She stared at the liquor and took a deep breath. One, two, three . . ! She lifted the bottle and drank. She sputtered and coughed. Maybe a third would even be better.

****

By the time Ryder rode out of Guthrie, twilight was bathing the rolling hills in gold. The new rifle he’d purchased for Dannie rested in the scabbard. It was time she learned to use a rifle, for it was a necessity out here in this untamed territory. One, especially a woman who was being hunted, never knew when she would have to protect herself.

Except for Outlaw tethered outside the tent, the camp looked deserted as he approached it. He wondered where Dannie and Parker were and frowned. This time of day, they were usually out and about, with Dannie preparing dinner over an open fire. With his concern mounting, he spurred Thunderbolt in the sides, urging him into a harder run.

"Dannie!" He swung out of the saddle. "Parker!"

Silence. His heart thudded with fear.

"Dannie!"

"Ryder! That you?" Dannie’s voice, pitched high and sounding a little slurred, came from the direction of the creek. Relief moved through him as he strode through the high weeds.

With the hem of her pants hoisted to her thighs where her elbows rested, her legs spread, and bare toes wiggling, she sat on a log near the edge of the water. The buttons on her shirt were unfastened part way down, exposing the swells of her breasts. Long cascades of hair curled in unruly locks around her face and dangled over her shoulders as she looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes. Her eyes seemed to have lost some of their brightness, her lids drooped, and her nose glowed rosy pink. She held an almost empty flask of whiskey.

He gaped. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing! She was drunk! Or close to it. "What’s going on? Where’s Parker?" He tried to sound gruff.

"Gone over to th’ Warrens. Havin’ dinner there." She hiccupped, then chuckled.

Moving closer to her, he nodded toward the bottle in her hand. "Where’d you get that?"

A light flush crept across her cheeks, a little peevish grin touching her lips. An eyebrow lifted. "I ‘tole it from you."

"Why’d you do that?" Amused, yet annoyed and puzzled, he stood before her. What had come over her? "You’ve never drunk a drop of whiskey in your life."

She nodded, a little too exuberantly. "I know. Couldn’t sleep." Hiccup.

"When did you last eat?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Probably not since early this mornin’."

"That explains it."

"What?"

"It probably didn’t take but a swallow to get you in this condition."

"I jest wanted to forget fer awhile. It’ll make me sleep, too, won’t it?"

"What do you want to forget?" He tried to sound and look stern. Crossing his arms over his chest, he forced a grim expression on his face.

She shrugged and, rising, stood close to him. She swayed. Grasping her shoulders, he steadied her. She reeked of whiskey. Despite his efforts, a little smile moved across his lips. Through heavy-lidded eyes, she looked up at him, and a painful blow with the power of a kick hit him in his belly.

"I saw ya t’day in town with that . . . ." Hiccup.

". . . . that woman." From beneath lowered lids, she studied him. Another hiccup. Another foolish grin spread across her lips. "D’ ya love me, Ryder?"

Taken aback with her question, he studied her face, the rose-hued cheeks under wide, glassy eyes and long feathery lashes. It was suddenly hard for him to breathe. "Like a sister."

She shook her head. "No, I mean d’ya love me . . . ya know in that way." She stepped closer to him and pressed her palms against his chest.

"In what way, Dannie?" He heard the huskiness of his own voice and knew he should push her away. But he couldn’t. His willpower was weakening.

"I mean as . . ." She hiccupped. ". . . as a . . . a

. . . ." Suddenly becoming as limp as a rag doll, she began slipping out of his arms. He hauled her to her feet. Her body was soft and supple under his hands. Waves of heat shot through him.

". . .lover." She moved against him, running her arms around his neck, snuggling close, cradling her hips against his. Her fingers against the back of his neck felt like darts of fire.

His entire body flamed. Dammit! Why couldn’t he just walk away? Why were those lips so enticing, irresistible? "If you mean--"

"I mean, do you love me? D’ya wanna take me to bed?"

Startled, he studied her face, flushed, warm, and inviting. "The whiskey’s talking, Dannie." He tried to sound gruff as he made a feeble attempt to pull her arms down from his neck. She held fast. His body hardened.

"Kiss me, Ryder." Tiptoeing, she lifted her mouth close to his. Spreading her hand against the back of his head, she suddenly pulled his mouth down to hers in a wet, sloppy massage. She tasted and smelled of whiskey. Desire blazed white-hot within him. His arms tightened around her. He let his tongue play with hers.

"Make love t’ me, Ryder." She whispered the words against his mouth, slipping a hand inside his shirt, her fingers stroking, gliding.

Dammit, how he’d like to! Every pore in his body demanded it, but when he made love to a woman, especially Dannie, he wanted her sober.

Yet, his willpower plummeted as she caught his hand and brought it to her breast. The nipple hardened against his palm. An ache such as he’d never known shot through him, almost bringing him to his knees.

Mustering all his strength, he grasped her shoulders and pushed her away from him. "Not tonight, Dannie." His voice sounded husky, raw with passion.

"Don’t ya love me, Ryder?"

Yes, dammit, I love you! "I’m not making love to you when you’re like this."

With a hiccup and a laugh, she moved against him, melding her body into his. A new blaze of desire roared through him. Again, she tunneled her fingers up into his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers.

Suddenly swinging her into his arms, he turned and strode knee-deep into the creek.

And dumped her into the water with a resounding splash.

Sputtering, splattering, and gurgling, she came up.

"When you’re sober, make that same proposition to me, Dannie." He tried to sound stern.

"You . . . you . . . !" Rising and sweeping water out of her eyes, she faced him, her eyes flashing.

Ryder sucked in a long, deep breath. Water sluiced down her, plastering the cotton shirt to her high, firm breasts and taut nipples, leaving nothing to his imagination. The ache of his body made him wish he hadn’t dumped her.

"You . . . you . . . !" she again sputtered.

"You’ve said that once."

"Ooooh! I hate you Colin Ryder! I hate you!" Striding past him, splashing water, she marched onto the bank. Hiccupping loudly, she stalked on, leaving little puddles of water in her wake. She stubbed her toe, muttered under her breath, then stalked toward camp.

Ryder chuckled. Damn! Why the hell did he let her get away?

****

Dannie awoke with a jolt and a terrific headache. Pain throbbed throughout her head, her mouth tasted as if it were stuffed with dry cotton and tasted like the waste of an outhouse. Lying face down on her cot in the tent, she guessed by the brightness of the sun streaking through the cracks that it must be late morning. Why had she overslept?

And why did she have such a headache?

She rolled to her back and realized she still wore her clothes. What had happened? She remembered wanting to sleep and forget seeing Ryder with that woman on his arm. Ryder’s flask of whiskey in his saddlebag had been too tempting. Hadn’t she taken only a swallow or two? She certainly didn’t drink enough to get so drunk she couldn’t remember anything. Or did she?

Panic hit.

The image of Ryder’s mouth on hers, of slipping her hand inside his shirt, his arms around her flashed through her mind.

Love? Did she tell him she loved him?

Then water. She remembered water. Of being in water.

Sitting upright, she cried out as new pain shot through her.

Why did she remember being thrown in water? What had she and Ryder done? Had they--? Her face burned with mortification. What if they had made love and she couldn’t remember it?

Shaking her head, trying to clear it, she realized she wore no boots and the legs of her pants were rolled up to her thighs. She rose slowly to her feet. The tent tilted, then righted. Patting down her body, she breathed a long sigh of relief to find her underwear still in place. Well, maybe nothing happened after all.

Yet, horror of horrors, how could she ever face Ryder again? Shame scalded her from head to foot. How could you have been so stupid, Dannie?

With tentative steps, she moved out of the tent. The coffeepot sat on the fire and Ryder’s bedroll, where he’d obviously slept, was still laid out. The irritating man still insisted on sleeping here and would do so until she took the fence down - if posts set in holes could be called a fence. Why was he using such a flimsy excuse to live in her camp? Was he really so concerned about the men he’d seen in town that he stayed here to protect her and Parker? Or was it just another way to annoy her?

"Parker!" she called, then moaned as her own voice echoed through her head. She rubbed her forehead.

"It’s about time you got up."

She pivoted. Ryder, carrying a rifle, and her brother strode through the tall grass toward her. Wave after wave of mortification rolled through her as she tried in vein to remember exactly what she and Ryder did last night. She wanted to turn and run from his grinning face.

"We’ve been out shootin’ this morning," Parker announced, his eyes round and shining.

Ryder studied her, his grin growing wider, as if he shared a shameful secret with her. Scorching heat surged through her. Was he remembering how they’d made love - and she had no recollection at all of it? The vague memory of kissing that mouth, feeling its warmth and moistness, swept into her mind, bringing another wave of embarrassment. "What time is it?"

"‘bout nine, isn’t it, Ryder?" Parker interjected.

"Every bit nine." Ryder’s little grin still played across his mouth. "Parker, I think we need some water from the creek. How about getting it?"

"Yes, sir." After retrieving the bucket off the nearby table, Parker trotted off toward the creek.

"What are you staring at?" Dannie snapped, still irritated at her memory loss and the way Ryder was grinning at her.

"You." Ryder’s infuriating smile spread.

"Well, don’t!" Her breath caught in her throat as the memory of his warm mouth exploring hers again came to mind in a rush.

"Can’t help but wonder how you feel this morning."

She glared at him, wishing she could crush these raging emotions he stirred. "Just peachy." She screwed her face up at him.

He chuckled aloud and let his gaze drop the length of her. "I bet. You look a little worse for wear. Get cleaned up. You’re going to learn how to shoot a rifle this morning."

"I don’t think so."

"I do think so. With those men out looking for you, the sooner you learn to shoot, the better. You be ready in fifteen minutes."

She jutted her chin. "And if I don’t?"

His piercing gaze, smoldering with challenge, darted down her once again. Something soft, illegible registered on his face, then faded. "I’ll dress you myself."

"My head hurts!"

He gave a curt shake of his head. A little grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "No doubt about that. It’ll hurt a helluva lot more after you shoot that gun a few times. Maybe it’ll teach you not to drink whiskey." He turned and walked away. "Be ready, Miss Jacobs," he called over his shoulder.

The infuriating man made her feel absolutely impotent! Well, she’d show him she couldn’t be told what to do in her own camp!

With a grunt, she turned and moved back into the tent. Her head swam, and she flopped belly-down on the cot. Pain ricocheted through her head. Oh, if she ever recovered from this she’d never, never drink again! Moaning, she turned to her back, massaged her head, then slowly sat up and stared at her bare feet. Would she ever feel human again?

Where were her boots?

Dropping to her knees, she bent over, her head almost touching the ground, and peered under the cot. Hearing a step behind her, she, still bent with her bottom in the air, looked behind her. Ryder’s towering frame blocked the sunlight.

Finding himself staring down at Dannie’s upturned, denim-clad bottom, Ryder couldn’t hold back the rumbling laugh. Never had he seen this part of a woman’s anatomy in such an awkward, unobstructed, although pleasant, position.

"What do you want?" she snapped, unmoving, her dark blue eyes glittering up at him. "You told me fifteen minutes!"

His chuckle deepened. "I figured you needed several cups of hot coffee down you before you put your hands on a gun. Besides, what are you doing on the ground?"

Her gaze darted to the steaming coffee cup in his hand. Her brows and mouth puckered. "I can’t drink that stuff. I’d throw it up everywhere. I’m down here looking for my boots."

"Don’t you remember where you put them?"

"No, I don’t." She reached under the cot.

"I doubt that you remember much of anything, especially about last night."

"Why shouldn’t I?"

"You were drunk."

"I was not drunk!"

Amused, he waited as she slowly drug out her boots, stood, swayed, and plunked down on the cot. She sent him a get-lost look then, as if remembering her gaping shirt, she yanked it together and began buttoning it. "What’re you looking at?"

"You."

"Well, I don’t want you looking at me."

Knowing how he irritated her, he let his grin broaden. "That’s not what you told me yesterday evening."

She glanced up at him, her face turning beet red. "I didn’t know what I was saying!"

"Seemed to me you did."

"I was . . . was . . . ." She bit off the words, then opened her mouth as if to say something else. "Come on, Ryder! Let’s go shoot!" Parker’s head appeared through the tent opening. "You promised!"

"I did, didn’t I?" Ryder grinned at her brother, then turned his gaze on Dannie. His black eyes glittered with amusement. "Fifteen minutes, Miss Jacobs, or I’m coming back for you and hauling you over my shoulder. You’ll learn to shoot a rifle this morning."

"My head hurts! Besides, don’t ever come into my tent again!"

"Come on, Parker. Let’s give your sister time to collect her wits." Ryder strode out of the tent, his broad back straight and commanding. "Fifteen minutes!"

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Here, like this." Standing behind Dannie, Ryder wrapped his arms around her and positioned the gun against her shoulder, leveling the barrel.

Dannie inhaled deeply, relishing and resenting the fresh, clean scent of him. He must have bathed in the creek before he came storming into her tent this morning. The feel of his hard, muscular body lightly brushing hers sent waves of warmth and defiance through her.

What was he trying to do by letting his shirt gape, revealing his solid, hair-dusted chest? Lower her resistance?

"Now, line up the barrel with your target, pull back the hammer," he whispered in her ear, "then slowly and firmly pull the trigger."

The feel of his warm breath against her neck shot another wave of tingles along her spine. Of course he knew what he was doing - how uncomfortable he was making her! Did he think he had a right to wrap his arms around her in such a familiar way since they may have been intimate last night down by the creek? For shame! How she wished she could remember what had happened!

Yes, he knew exactly what he was doing, how he sent quivers all through her body. Ryder was no dummy. Annoyed, she willed herself to harden against him and wiggled out of his grasp. "I think I can do it."

A little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His eyes sparkled with challenge.

"C’me on, Ryder. Show me," Parker cut in. "She’s doing pretty good and I wanna shoot."

The approach of horses punctured the rustle of the morning breeze. Dannie looked up, following Ryder’s glance toward the four riders trotting through the waving grass toward them. Moving with fluid agility, Ryder reached and took the gun from her hands. With legs spread, his body straight as if ready for confrontation, he waited as they reined their mounts to a halt. She heard the pull of the hammer on the gun.

"‘morning," one of the visitors greeted, pushing the hat back on his head and resting his forearm on the saddlehorn. His dark gaze moved with methodical appraisal down Ryder. "We’re lookin’ for a man," the stranger continued. "Kinda built the same way as you, tall and strong. Rumors have it that he’s down in these parts."

Ryder didn’t blink. "Who are you?"

"U. S. Marshal Basil Newton out of Kansas." Reaching inside his vest, he pulled out a tin badge and flipped it in one easy motion to Ryder.

Ryder didn’t flinch. "Who are you looking for and why are you looking for him?" He glanced at the badge, then handed it back to the man.

"He’s known as Night Rider. It’s been a helluva - beg your pardon, miss . . . ." He tipped his hat toward Dannie. ". . . a time trackin’ him down. He rode with the Bartell gang and is wanted on numerous charges." The marshal’s gaze moved to Dannie and drifted down her body. "Heard he’s ridin’ with two boys."

Unexpected fear for Ryder curdled in Dannie’s stomach. "Well, I’m no boy!" Yanking the hat off her head, she pulled the pins out of her hair and with a mighty shake of her head, let the mane tumble down over her shoulders.

A slow grin slid across the marshal’s face. "I can see that, ma’am. I was just tryin’ find out who this gentlemen here is." He nodded toward Ryder.

Ryder’s black eyes took on a darker glint. "Colin Ryder," he answered between rigid jaws. "Former U.S. marshal."

Newton’s eyes widened with curiosity. "From where?"

"St. Louis."

"You’re no longer a lawman?"

Ryder shook his head.

"Got proof that you were a lawman?"

Ryder’s chest puffed. "Not with me. The marshal in Guthrie and Judge Meeker up in St. Louis can vouch for me."

The man’s gaze narrowed, as if skeptical of Ryder’s claim. He nodded toward Dannie and Parker. "Who’re these two?"

"Danielle and Parker Hunter," Dannie answered quickly.

The marshal looked at Ryder, then back to Dannie and Parker in slow, easy scrutiny. Dannie wanted to wilt under the shrewd gaze but stiffened and met his eyes without a blink.

"Where’re Miss Hunter and the boy from?" he asked.

"Arkansas - Little Rock." Dannie saw the briefest glint in Ryder’s eyes.

"You camping here together?" Marshal Newton asked.

"I’m camped over the hill," Ryder answered.

"Both claimin’ the same piece of land, huh?" Marshal Newton’s eyes sparkled shrewdly.

"You might say that." As if impatient with the conversation, Ryder shifted his weight.

The lawman straightened in the saddle. "You two seem mighty cozy to be claimin’ the same piece of land."

Dannie gave an uneasy chuckle. She doubted that the lawman believed anything they told him. "We’re friendly enemies for the time being, Marshal."

Marshal Newton’s gaze flicked down Ryder, then to Dannie. "Better be careful of who you’re keepin’ company with, Miss. That Night Rider character don’t have a conscience and won’t bat an eye to kill. He also has a reputation as bein’ a ladies’ man." Lifting the reins, he kneed his mount in the sides and rode away with the other riders behind him.

"Do you know what you just did?" Ryder bellowed as the marshal and his men disappeared over the crest of the nearest hill.

Stunned by his outburst, Dannie turned to him, meeting the hot flash of his eyes. "What did I do?"

"The man hadn’t accused me of being anyone and you immediately denied being one of the boys Night Rider’s supposedly traveling with. If Newton’s any kind of lawman, he saw through that real quick. You just as well have stood up and admitted I’m Night Rider and you were disguised as one of the boys!"

Tears suddenly welled up within her, tears of frustration, of being so stupid, and for Ryder’s anger. "Well, I’m not a lawman and I only did what anyone would have done!"

"They’ll be back."

Panic hit her. "But they can’t do anything! You can prove you’re in the clear. The Guthrie marshal and that judge back in St. Louis can do that. You said so yourself."

Ryder stiffened. "Yeah, if they don’t get trigger-happy first. The marshal may have good intentions but his posse may not. Even if they are honorable, they could take me in where I’ll sit in jail for days before they have confirmation from St. Louis. Newton himself may not be a bona fide lawman. He may be no more than a bounty hunter."

"But he had a badge."

"That may be stolen."

"How am I supposed to know what to do?" she cried. "I’ve never been hunted before!"

The clip-clop of a horse pulled Dannie’s attention off him to the approaching rider. Her dismay deepened with the recognition of Wilson Giles.

"It’s been a damned lively morning," Ryder hissed under his breath. "What does he want?"

"Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?" She put a warm smile on her face and was delighted by the sudden flash of anger - or was it jealousy? - in Ryder’s eyes.

"Good morning, Miss Dannie," Giles greeted with a polite tip of his hat as he pulled his mount to a halt, his gaze shooting toward Ryder.

"Hello, Giles." She widened her smile, boldly meeting his eyes. "What brings you down this way?"

"Yeah, you’re wandering far from home, aren’t you?" Ryder growled.

Surprised and amused at the hostility in Ryder’s voice, Dannie turned and sent him a hot glare. "It seems Mr. Ryder isn’t in a neighborly mood this morning."

"Well, uh. . . ." Giles shifted uneasily in the saddle, then straightening his shoulders in defiance, he smiled down at her, teeth glimmering. "I’d be most pleased if you went to the Warren’s dance with me next week."

Delighted, Dannie glanced toward Ryder’s scowling face, then back to Giles. "I’d be very glad to. I’ll be spending the day with Sadie getting prepared and all and will see you there."

Giles’ smile widened farther. "I’m on my way into Guthrie. Is there anything I can get for you while I’m there?"

Ryder stepped forward and looked up at Giles, his black eyes glinting with challenge. "I think Dannie has all the supplies she needs for the time being."

Giles’ smile faded, his hazel eyes glinting, his wide shoulders straight.

"I can speak for myself, Ryder." Dannie glowered at him and rested her folded hands on her hips. Ryder’s pointed gaze didn’t waver. "But I do think I have everything I need right now. I appreciate the offer." She smiled up at Giles and ignored Ryder’s short chuckle.

"I’ll see you at the dance." With another flash of a grin, he lifted the reins and touched the brim of his hat.

Dannie watched Giles as he rode over the hill out of sight, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. It pleased her that he had asked her to go with him to the Warren’s dance. At least she wouldn’t have to put up with Ryder and always be on the defensive with him, even to the point of fighting her own strong attraction to him.

Yes, Giles was nice enough, but he just wasn’t Ryder. No man was Ryder.

"Are you through staring?"

Ryder’s gruff tone pulled her attention back to his glowering face. She lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, was I staring?"

"You’re not going with him, are you, Dannie?" Parker blurted, his face wrinkled up with displeasure. "Why don’t you go with Ryder?"

"Yeah, why don’t you?" Shifting his weight on one foot, Ryder crossed his arms over his chest and from glittering, black eyes looked down at her.

Stubbornness moved through her. She glared back into his face. "He hasn’t asked me."

"I just did."

"I don’t consider that an invitation; besides I’d have more fun with Giles. He’s a gentleman."

"What do you know about him?" Ryder snapped. "Is he married? Does he have kids? Maybe he’s a widower just looking for a housekeeper and nurse for a passel of kids."

She tightened her chin. "Are you jealous, Ryder?"

He stiffened. "Not in the least."

"Sounds like it. Besides I hardly know any more about you than I do him, do I?"

"Ah, come on, Dannie!" Parker chimed in, his brows lowered. "Go with Ryder!"

"Oh, go find some firewood, Parker Jacobs! Do something! Besides, I’m sure Ryder can find someone else to take to the dance!" She pivoted and strode toward the tent. "Maybe that woman he was with in town!"

With a disgruntled murmur, Parker meandered away.

Ryder’s grip on her arm spun her around toward him. "I don’t want Candy Baker." His voice was low, throaty.

Everything within Dannie stilled. She couldn’t breathe. "Who do you want, Ryder?"

His eyes smoldered with passion. "You, Dannie."

Dannie’s knees almost give out beneath her.

"Come on, guys!" Parker called impatiently. "We got some shootin’ to do!"

For what seemed like an eternity, Dannie stared into Ryder’s unblinking eyes. Black, profound, and passionate, they held her spellbound as her awareness of him, of his closeness, and of the virile scent of him made her weak. Had he taken her in his arms, bent his dark head, and took her mouth with his right there in front of Parker, she would have had no willpower to stop him. He mesmerized her, made her want him with a startling need.

"Ryder!"

Parker’s impatient call broke the spell. Ryder straightened and defiance shadowed his eyes. "Come on. You’re going to learn to shoot." Grasping her arm, he led her away from camp.

Although she wanted to, Dannie didn’t protest. Her mind told her to rebel, to steer clear of this man who seemed to melt her to mush, yet her heart wouldn’t let her. She wondered if she loved this lawman-outlaw.

No, no way could she love him, she tried to convince herself as her shooting lesson progressed far into the morning. He still couldn’t be trusted. There were too many unanswered questions about him, his past too shadowed. It would be best if she didn’t have another thought about him.

But that was hard. With him standing so near her, his body so close, she could feel the heat of him as he instructed her on how to shoot the rifle. She yearned for the lesson to end, yet hoped that it never would.

Close to noon, he announced that the lessons were over and made an almost disgruntled comment on her quickness as a student. After a quick midday meal, to Dannie’s relief, he announced that he was going to the Warrens to help put the roof on their barn. After giving them orders to stay close to camp, and making Parker feel that he was the man who had to watch after his older sister, he disappeared over the hill.

To Dannie’s dismay, it was after sundown and he still hadn’t returned. Inside her tent, brushing her hair, she heard the distant roll of thunder and half listened to the sad lonely tune Parker was playing on his harmonica outside when the clop-clop of an approaching horse broke the silence. Reaching for her derringer, then deciding to listen to Ryder’s previous admonishment, she grabbed the rifle and stepped out of the tent.

"Hi, Ryder!" Parker called, delight in his voice, just as Ryder reined Thunderbolt to a halt and swung out of the saddle.

"‘evening, buckaroo." He threw Parker a quick grin, then lifted his gaze to Dannie still standing in front of the tent. Shadows danced across his face. "‘evening to you, too, Dannie," he said almost as an afterthought. He began unsaddling his mount.

Jealousy stung. Wondering if he really had been at the Warrens all evening, she watched him, with Parker’s help and constant chatter, unsaddle Thunderbolt then make his own bed. Irritation surged through her. As usual for the past few nights, the man was going to sleep here in her camp.

Pressing her lips together, she turned and strode back into her tent and plunked down on the cot. Would there ever come a time when the maddening man didn’t fill her every thought, all her dreams? Would there ever be a time when she could be near him and not feel this rush of heat, of intense attraction? This wondering of what it would feel like to have him make love to her?

Well, maybe Giles would help her forget. After all, he had a nice manner about him. He’d proven to be a gentleman the day she’d met him in the general merchandise store in Guthrie and had casually made the comment about needing help building a fence. He’d offered his help and had carried her supplies out to the wagon for her. He’d been nothing but supreme in his manners, and his slight Australian accent delighted her.

That fence . . . .

Ryder refused to leave her camp as long as that fence was up. She emitted a laugh. A string of a dozen poles stuck in the ground hardly defined a fence, yet until she removed them, Ryder would continue to be an irritating, uninvited guest in her camp.

Pulling the brush through her mane of hair, she listened as the notes of Parker’s harmonica lilted through the tent to her. Thunder rolled. Rising, she pulled the silk robe off her shoulders, sat down on the cot, and blew out the lantern. She wouldn’t give Ryder the satisfaction of showing herself tonight.

Sleep didn’t come. She lay listening to Parker’s harmonica, the distant thunder, and the occasional mumble of their voices until Parker at last came into the tent and crawled onto his cot. Within minutes, his rhythmic breathing told her he was fast asleep. Outside Ryder moved about the camp, then the lantern went out, leaving only the soft, flickering glow of the low fire. Shadows leaped and danced against the canvas tent. He must have stretched out on his bedroll for the night.

Turning to her side, she laid the pillow over her head, trying to blot out all thoughts of him from her mind. Yet she lay there, still and silent, her ears turned toward every sound outside, her mind vivid with the memory of his body warming hers as he showed her the right way to hold the rifle. She still could smell the rich, virile scent of him.

Flopping to her back, she squeezed her eyes shut. Why wouldn’t sleep come? Still, it escaped her as she listened for the slightest sound that might indicate Ryder was up and about. Instead, the croak of frogs, a hoot of an owl in the distance, and rolling thunder were all she heard.

Why didn’t he move out of her camp and stay at his own? Why did he have to torment her so just by being so near?

Irritated, she sat up. Back in Kansas City, whenever she couldn’t sleep, she got a warm glass of milk, which seemed to work, but out here, she had no milk. Maybe a breath of fresh air would help - as long as she could avoid him.

Throwing her feet over the side of the cot, she reached for her silk wrapper and pulled it on. Rising, she wiggled her feet into her slippers, then flung back the flap and stepped into the night air.

The low campfire crackled and popped against the velvet darkness. A soft breeze rustled the treetops as lightning flashed against the western horizon. With his hat covering his face, Ryder lay on his back on his bedroll, ankles crossed. A blanket covered his torso to his bare chest while his head rested on the saddle, his hands clasped on his stomach. The Colt glinted at his elbow against the flickering light. He didn’t move, apparently sound asleep. Dannie gave a little sigh of relief mixed with disappointment and started on.

"Couldn’t sleep?"

Startled, she halted. Ryder didn’t move, not even a twitch of a finger. Stiffening, she inhaled sharply. "You might say that." Lifting a fold of her gown, she strode farther away from the tent.

He still didn’t move. "Are you brave enough to venture out in the dark without an escort?"

"I’m not going anywhere." She heard the sharpness of her own voice.

"I thought you might be going to tend to personal business."

Embarrassment warmed her face. "What I do is certainly none of your business!"

Lifting the hat off his face, he sat up and smiled at her. Something sultry and seductive flickered in his eyes. Watching the muscles across his shoulders and arms roll and flex, she wondered if the wind had been knocked out of her.

"It’s not wise to wander out in the dark alone," he said with a tinge of gruffness.

She shrugged, trying to shrug off his incredible attraction. "I’m restless tonight."

Mesmerized, Ryder couldn’t take his gaze off her. He’d never seen her looking so desirable or so feminine - every inch female under those long, silky nightclothes. Her hair, dancing with golden highlights against the fire, fanned over her shoulders in long, disheveled waves. The silk robe clung to her high, full breasts, then gathered at her small waist before flowing into the tantalizing curves of her hips. Even though she looked every inch the seductive vamp, an aura of innocence clung about her, as if she were unaware of the effect she had on men, especially him. Such enticement seemed natural for her.

"What’s on your mind, Dannie?"

The firelight flickered against her. Lifting her eyes, she swung her gaze to his for an instant. She moved to a log near him and sat down. He breathed deeply, inhaling the flowery scent of her and waited expectantly, his body tensing.

"Why did you decide to infiltrate that gang of outlaws, risk your life and career in order to bring them to justice? Why was it so important to you?" Her voice was low, inquisitive, almost friendly.

He saw the deep speculation behind those silver-blue eyes. "They murdered my parents." He blinked with the incredible pain that squeezed around his heart.

Her face paled. Sudden tears glittered in her eyes. "I’m so sorry."

A roar of thunder filled the night air.

Ryder fought his own threatening tears. He locked his gaze with hers as she waited expectantly. "My father was a prosecutor who put one of the gang lieutenants in prison. He and my mother were coming back from Chicago to St. Louis. The gang knew my parents were on that train, held it up, and shot him and Mother in the seat where they sat." Dropping her arm, he swallowed the lump in his throat. After all these years, whenever he talked about their untimely deaths, tears threatened so that he could hardly talk. He blinked hard and looked across the dark, rolling hills. "The so-called captain in command left his calling card on Dad’s body as a warning to anyone who would attempt to prosecute any of them again."

Turning, he met her soft gaze in the pale moonlight. Her eyes glistened brightly, and he knew he had touched a chord deep within her. "I vowed to find the general of the outfit and put every one of them behind bars. When I went to the Justice Department with my proposal of infiltrating the gang, they at first refused. I pestered them until they finally agreed to let me do it but with the understanding that the law would have to turn its back on me."

"And you still agreed to do it?" Her voice was silky soft.

He nodded and looked through blurry eyes toward the moon hanging low in the sky, just over the stormy clouds. "I did what I set out to do. I resigned my commission because I had to do some things outside the law while I was an outlaw. The law couldn’t condone what I had to do in order to pull it off and bring Bartell and his gang to justice. I had to resign in order to join the gang. The law had to turn it’s back on me."

"Can’t you become a lawman again? As far as the law is concerned, are you still an outlaw?"

He managed a thin smile. "No. They’ll give my commission back if and when I decide I want it. Right now I don’t think so. One day, I might decide to go back into it."

"So you decided to come out here and try to make a home?"

He choked down another lump in his throat. "I want a normal life away from the dregs of society for awhile." Pausing, he let his gaze rest on her face, noting the sensuously curving, slightly parted lips. Her wide eyes never blinked as they held his, her breathing soft and even.

It felt good having someone to talk to. Someone who was truly interested. It’d been a long time since he’d talked to a woman like this - not since Sarah. And that was a long, long time ago. Before she walked out on him. Before his heart turned to stone.

"How can you not go back to being a lawman knowing it’s men like you who put such people as Bartell away?" She heard the breathlessness, the sadness of her own voice. Her heart swelled and ached for him.

"I was no longer comfortable being a lawman. I wanted - and still want the life of a normal human being. I want to feel human again." His gaze dropped to her mouth.

His nearness, his overwhelming presence took her breath away. Never in her life had a man ever affected her with such deep, agonizingly sweet sensations that reached to her very core. Her entire body tingled with expectation. Expectation of what, she wasn’t sure, for she certainly hadn’t come out of the tent expecting to be with him.

. . .or had she?

For he was as intoxicating as the whiskey she’d drunk - heady, dizzying, and fiery.

By no will of her own, she leaned toward him. A deep, painful need churned in her belly as her gaze swept across his wide shoulders. An errant twig of hair waved against his forehead, and his dark eyes glittered with fire, giving him a heady, seductive look.

Reaching out, he put his fingers under her chin and lifted her mouth toward his. The protest that rose to her throat stuck there as his face came closer. She felt as if she were drowning, being swept up into a wild vortex of hot, all-consuming feelings.

His hand closed over her shoulder, warming her entire body. She shivered. Instinctively, her lips parted. He leaned toward her, sliding his arms around her.

"Danielle." Her name was no more than a hoarse, throaty sound coming from deep within him.

She breathed deeply as his mouth took hers, his tongue taking liberties with its probing. The spicy fragrance of him filled her nostrils. His hands felt like spits of fire through her gown and robe. Spreading her hands against the hardness of his chest, she slid them through the soft mat of hair, over his shoulders and around his neck, and arched shamelessly into him.

Stunned by her own unrestrained response, she couldn’t protest as his hands began to move, at first hesitantly, then with bolder strokes across her back. All her reservations, her best intentions, her vows to purge this man out of her blood fled as she tunneled her fingers up into his hair and deepened the kiss. The heavy ache low in her body felt wonderfully good. Her breasts tightened against him.

She moaned softly as his mouth left hers and moved in light, feathery kisses across her cheek and ear to her neck. His breath was moist against her skin. Still, she couldn’t pull away.

His hands traveled to her ribcage as he lowered her to the bedroll, his mouth still nibbling at her throat. Lying under him, she couldn’t stop her raging want of him. Not even as he tugged on the belt of her robe . . . .

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The belt come loose in his hand. Ryder’s own body grew uncomfortably harder and fuller. Surprised and awed by her submission, he became poignantly aware of the engorgement of her breasts against him, the flush of her body full-length under him. Her quick, heavy breathing matched his own.

She gasped as he cupped each side of her head with his hands, his penetrating gaze holding hers in the flickering glow. His body aligned with hers, every curve and plane melded together.

Dannie felt his increasing need through the layers of silk between them. The expected shock and shame didn’t come, only a desire so intense she thought she would certainly explode. Everything around her spun, her passion so great that it brought her to the brink of losing all senses.

"I want you, Danielle." His voice was raw with need as he shifted his weight so that he rested on his elbows.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat closed. Nodding slightly, she again tried. "I want you, Ryder." Hearing the hoarseness of her own voice, she was unable to halt her emotions long enough to ask herself why she admitted her desire for him so quickly.

His mouth came back to hers, his tongue sliding between her lips and delving deep. She wantonly opened her mouth and welcomed his bold kiss, hardly aware of his hand that moved to her breast and lingered. His palm pressed against the hardened nipple.

"You’re a beautiful woman, Danielle." His words came out muffled against her neck.

Opening her mouth to tell him he was a gorgeous man, she instead gasped with the touch of his moist lips against her shoulder, her throat, then against the soft roundness of her breast. Instinctively pressing herself into him, she moaned and shook her arms free of the robe. She then thrust her fingers into his hair. His mouth traveled lower, his hand tugging the neckline of her gown down. With a start, she realized his other hand had slipped under her gown, pushed up the leg of her pantalets and was stroking her bare thigh in long, tingling sweeps. With practiced ease, he was bringing her to heights of rapture until she thought she would scream. She whimpered.

She knew she should tell him to stop, that this was going too far, yet she couldn’t. Her willpower had evaporated. The hammering of her heart meshed with the rolling thunder in the distance. Her own hand was bold in its exploration. It glided down his hard, sleek back to his narrow, taut hips, encased in a soft material. To her start, she realized he wore only his drawers, the reason she could feel his swollen body, his desire for her so easily. The knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him heightened her excitement. Her hand slid lower, then over his hips, massaging and caressing. Awed by the magnificence of his body, she explored. He touched her breast, then tasted and kissed the rigid nipple. Fiery darts of flame seared her. A low moan came from her own throat.

His hand stroked along her inner thigh, then her hip, to her stomach as she swept her hand across his chest, then downward to the warm hardness of his arousal. She touched tentatively. Her breath caught. Why couldn’t she breathe? How could she be so daring? So wanton?

He shifted, still nibbling on her breast through the silk, and slipped his hand between her legs. Quivering, she languished in the unexpected, euphoric sensations that sprinted through her at his gentle stroke.

Lifting his dark head, he looked into her eyes for a moment, then planted short, hot kisses on her mouth, her nose, her eyes, her cheeks, neck and ears.

"Love me, Danielle," he murmured, his tone husky and seductive. "Let me love you."

Lost in the wild, blazing heights he aroused in her, she couldn’t speak. She arched into him, her own fingers caressing and exploring the hardness, the solid muscles and the warmth of him.

Thunder roared overhead, blending with the roar of her desire. Lightning split the dark sky. No fury could match the violent, passionate feelings that Ryder awoke in her.

His ragged breathing came in short, jerky spurts. He shifted and began tugging her nightgown upward, over her head. As if under some hypnotic spell, she didn’t protest. His gaze dropped to her breasts, their peaks taut and swollen.

"Beautiful . . . beautiful . . . ." His bellowing shoulder muscles above her glistened in the firelight.

An unexpected spear of lightning ripped the dark sky apart above them. Thunder that matched that of a thousand trains rumbled. Terror brought Dannie back to reality with a jolt, the euphoric sensations shattering with the crack of another flash of lightning. Outlaw neighed and snorted. The wind whipped through the tree branches with quick, violent snaps. She stiffened. Ryder tensed above her. A chill moved through her. Another horse snorted.

"Ryder," she managed to gasp. "We can’t . . . ."

Something indiscernible crossed his face. Bending his head, he kissed her lips lightly, then lifting her nightgown off the ground, moved off her and laid the garment with unexpected gentleness over her.

Wave after wave of shame surged through her. With the storm came the chagrin of what she’d almost done in a moment of wild, uninhabited passion. That she’d let him touch her in intimate places where no man had before touched. Shame burned through her. What must he think of her? Holding the gown against her, she sat up, turned her back toward him, and slipped it over her head. She reached for the wrapper as she felt his soft touch on her shoulder.

"I’m sorry, Dannie."

Too mortified to speak, she stood and pulled on the robe, unable to look at him.

He came to his feet beside her. Thunder boomed overhead. Lightning danced across the sky.

"Dannie. . . ."

His warm hand curled around her arm.

With heat engulfing her entire body, she forced herself to look up at him. Shadows flickered across his contrite face. His tight jaw flexed, his eyes glittered with softness. Hesitant and unsure, he reached out, catching a strand of her hair and let it slip through his fingers.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--"

"So am I." Clutching her robe closer around her, as if to cover her shame, she turned and fled into the tent. Inside, she halted and thanked God that Parker still slept on his cot and hadn’t heard or seen the shameful goings-on between her and Ryder. She gasped for breath, fighting to control her pounding heart and the roar in her ears. With her knees about to give way beneath her, she sank to the cot and dropped her face into her hands. Tears burned her eyes.

He probably thought she was a tramp. No self-respecting, nice lady let a man do to her what she’d just allowed him to do. He’d awakened an unfamiliar, fiery passion in her that she hadn’t known she had. She’d wanted him to make love to her. She’d wanted to know his body intimately, to touch him in places she’d never touched a man before.

The thought brought another rush of fire to her face.

How long could she go on living so close to him and not yield to him? How long could she deny her fierce attraction to him? How long could she remain respectable?

Biting her lip as another surge of tears welled up in her eyes, she lay stomach down on the cot and buried her face in her arms. She let the tears fall.

She and Parker would let him have the land and they’d move on.

Move on to where?

Colorado maybe. Although she had some money left, she wondered if she had enough money to start a new life for her and Parker there, or anywhere else. She’d spent a lot of it trying to settle here. Besides she felt safer here from her uncle than she would in a big city such as Denver. Uncle Mason would never venture out into such untamed territory as Oklahoma. Secondly, the neighbors were going to start her house within the next few days. Ryder had donated much of his time helping them build their homes in return for their help in getting her house built. He’d planted a garden and did a thousand and one other little chores for her. Although the creek wasn’t too far, he’d even mentioned digging a water well.

Since when had she started depending on Ryder so much?

With the thought startling her, she bolted upright. Well, as of right now, his help would come to an end. She’d prove to him she didn’t need or want his help - and she didn’t feel obligated to him. She and Parker could handle things themselves, even if there were a thousand things that needed to be done. She hadn’t asked him to come into her life. He’d done so by his own choice. Well, he’d certainly have no choice come tomorrow. He could just step right out of her life forever. She’d see that he did just that first thing tomorrow morning.

Somehow. Some way.

She slipped off the robe and stretched out on the cot and stared, wide-eyed, at the canvas flapping in the wind above her. Thunder rumbled. First thing she would do in the morning would be to take down those poles that he called a fence. Then he’d have no excuse to sleep in her camp and would have to go back to his own. At least that’d put a little distance between them, making it easier to avoid him.

And she’d ask him to stay away from her or she’d shoot him. Any self-respecting man certainly would honor her wishes then.

Her fingers curled around the derringer under her pillow. She wondered if Ryder was sleeping.

Ryder wished he could sleep. Outside, lying on his back, arms folded beneath his head, Ryder stared at the dark, rolling clouds above him. The storm would be more bluster than bite, if he’d read the clouds right. They were moving to the north and probably by-pass them. He hoped, for he didn’t have shelter. And he certainly didn’t think he’d be welcome in Dannie’s tent.

Not after tonight. Not after he’d pulled such a jackass stunt and moved too fast. What had come over him to pull her down beside him on the bedroll?

Damn you, Ryder. She’ll never trust you again. Never let you near her. You’ll be lucky if you don’t find yourself looking down the barrel of the rifle from the wrong end.

A deep, aching sense of loss filled him. Yet he couldn’t purge the memory of her heated, uninhibited kisses and caresses, her body glistening against the flashes of lightning and how her warm softness felt to his touch under his body. Hearing the low thunder and watching the last bloom of lightning, he doubted that he would get a wink of sleep tonight. He rose, pulled on his pants and boots and, with no particular destination in mind, started walking.

How could he continue to live so closely to Dannie and not have her? His body hurt for the want of her, even when she wore those baggy pants and shirt. No other woman had produced such rampant, uncontrollable feelings within him and he was at a loss as to handle it, especially now since she hated his guts.

He kicked at a rock and cursed himself again.

"Ryder."

The sound of the call behind him took him by surprise. He pivoted to see Parker, clad in a nightshirt, loping through the night toward him.

"What are you doing up so late?" Ryder realized the sharpness of his voice came from thinly masked irritation at himself, for his lack of control when it came to Dannie.

Parker halted and gazed up at him through the pale light. "What’s eating you, Ryder? You mad at Dannie?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, she’s mad as a hornet, too. And every time she’s mad at you, she’s mad at me, too. Snapped my head off ‘cause I woke and need to go relieve myself."

"Is that a habit?" Despite himself, Ryder couldn’t contain his own annoyance with the boy for intruding into his private time.

"What?"

"You having to get up to relieve yourself." Turning, Ryder laid his arm across the boy’s shoulders and started toward the creek.

"No. Not always. Just tonight. Guess I forgot to go before I went to sleep."

"Ryder," Parker said after a moment of silence between them as they halted near the creek. Around them the frogs croaked and the crickets chirped.

"What?"

"Why are you and Dannie fighting?"

"Did she say we were fighting?" He squatted down and picked up a rock and threw it across the water.

"Naw. She don’t hafta tell me. I just know. She’s mad."

Ryder took a deep breath, wondering just what he should say. "We had a little disagreement."

"What about?"

"That’s between us, Parker."

"Do you like her, Ryder?"

With Parker’s question surprising him, Ryder looked up at the lad’s face in the darkness. A retreating roll of thunder echoed over the hills. "Sure, I like her."

"Well, she stays mad at you all the time and you stay mad at her and I just wondered." He shrugged and sat down beside him in the grass.

"Just because two people argue doesn’t mean they don’t like each other, Parker." He picked up another rock and flung it into the creek.

"Do you love her?"

"Who said anything about love?" He hoped Parker heard the annoyance in his voice and would drop the subject. It was getting too uncomfortable.

"No one. I think you love her and her you."

He let a low chuckle escape him. "You’re dead wrong on that one, buckaroo."

"Then why is she always watching you and you her? I see you both watching each other when neither of you think the other’s watching. I can see the look in your eyes--"

"What look?" The question came out harsher than he’d intended. Was Parker getting too close to the truth?

"Ah, I dunno - kinda soft and like a puppy-dog look. I think that’s why you stay mad at her and she stays mad at you."

"You’re imagining things." Shoving his hands into his pockets, he moved to his feet and looked out across the creek.

"Ryder."

"What?"

Parker rose. "What’s gonna happen to Dannie and me if Uncle Mason’s men find us? I mean, can we be put in jail or anything?"

The gravity of the boy’s words pulled Ryder’s attention to his shadowy face. His brows were lowered over his eyes, his mouth pressed into a straight, hard line of worry. Ryder’s heart softened. "No, you won’t go to jail." He laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "Your uncle will take you back to Kansas City to live, that’s all."

Parker’s frown deepened. "But we don’t wanna go back there, Ryder. Uncle Mason’s mean to us. And what if that man you saw that night . . . what if he finds us? What if there’s some more men out there looking for us?"

Ryder’s heart went out to the boy, and miffed at himself for not being more sensitive to his feelings, he again squeezed Parker’s shoulder. "Oklahoma’s a big place, Parker."

"But it’s not so big we can’t be found. Uncle Mason has a lotta money and men and he’s no quitter. Once he starts looking, he’ll find us."

He flashed a quick smile. "Maybe not this time, Parker."

"Ryder."

Trying to dispel his own uneasiness at Parker’s words, Ryder glanced out across the calm water of the creek. "Yeah?"

"Would it be so bad if you and Dannie married? I mean

. . . . if you got married, then Uncle Mason couldn’t take us back. You like her, don’t you, Ryder?"

If Parker hadn’t been so serious, Ryder would have laughed out loud. It’d be a miracle if Dannie would speak to him after tonight, let alone marry him.

"I don’t think your sister would marry me, Parker."

"Why? ‘cause you stay mad at each other all time?"

"Well, that’s partly why. It takes love for two people to marry and we don’t love each other. She doesn’t love me nor I her." Or do I?

"But supposing you just marry her for a little while? Or pretend you’re married to her if Uncle Mason’s men do come after us. Would that be so bad?"

Ryder chuckled. "No, I guess not. But your sister would have to agree to it, and I don’t think there’s much of a chance of that happening. You said yourself she stays mad at me all the time."

Parker’s face lit into a grin. "But I bet ya she’d marry you before she’d go back to Kansas City with Uncle Mason!"

Ryder shook his head. "I wouldn’t bet too much on that."

"Then you’ll do it?"

"Tell you what. Let’s not worry about it until it happens. If your uncle’s men come after you and her, then we can pretend we’re married. How’s that?"

Parker’s face dropped and he kicked at a rock. "He being a judge and all, he’d probably ask for proof, that’s all."

Ryder sucked in a long breath. The boy certainly didn’t leave anything to chance. He tried to cover everything. "Well, it hasn’t happened yet, buckaroo. When it does, we’ll convince him of it somehow." He again squeezed Parker’s shoulder.

"Why don’t you take her to the Warren dance?" Parker’s face brightened.

"Another man is taking her."

"Yeah, I know. Giles." He again kicked at a rock, stooped and picked it up and flung it into the creek. "But I bet you if you asked her she’d go with you."

"I doubt that, Parker. She’s a lady and ladies don’t break previous engagements."

"But she doesn’t like Giles in that way."

"What way?"

"You know. Like a boyfriend, even though she bought a brand new dress for the dance."

"She did?" Jealousy nudged Ryder.

"Yeah. You should see it. It’s beautiful and red. I bet she’ll look beautiful in it, too."

Ryder had no argument with that. His jealousy knifed deep. "Well, I guess I will see it at the dance." His words came out gruff. "I thought you had to tend to relieve yourself. It’s late and you need to get back to bed."

****

The next morning Dannie awoke with a jolt. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the tent opening and Parker’s cot was empty. Alarmed, she sat up. It’d been a rough night. Unable to sleep, she’d tossed and turned, listening for any sound of Ryder being up and about long after Parker had come back into the tent. The few times she drifted off to sleep, she’d dreamed about Ryder with such stirring, passionate splendor that paled last night’s interlude between them in comparison. It irritated her that the man occupied so much of her sleep time, not to mention her waking hours. Her attraction to him seemed to have no limits.

With a long sigh, she started to rise when the note on Parker’s pillow caught her attention. Picking it up, she read, scrawled in Ryder’s broad handwriting, Parker’s gone with me to the Warrens. Coffee is on the fire.

Dropping the paper, she rose and slipped into her wrapper when a bouquet of bright wildflowers lying on the end of her cot caught her attention. Bright petals of scarlet tipped in gold reflected the soft sunlight. Warm smooth liquid flowed through her. She let a little smile cross her lips as she picked them up. Indian Blankets. From Ryder no less.

She let her smile fade. Flowers won’t work, Ryder. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I’ll get back into your bed.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The huge bed with its high canopy looked inviting.

With the urge to run and leap into its middle, Dannie regarded it longingly. It’d been so very long since she’d slept in a real bed instead of a cot or bedroll, and this one looked so tempting. How nice it would be to curl up in it, pull the covers up, and snuggle into its softness for a nice long sleep!

How nice to curl up next to Ryder in it.

Scorching heat covered her face at the unexpected thought. Why did every one of her thoughts center on him? Why was she always thinking such disgraceful thoughts about him? Why did she still fantasize about being in his arms and reliving that interlude on his bedroll while the storm raged overhead again and again? Why couldn’t she just expel Colin Ryder out of her mind forever?

Because I love him.

With a start, she realized the thought had taken shape in her mind with no conscious effort on her part. Dear God, how could she love him? He was an outlaw - a lawman. One who horned in on her world and turned it upside down and at the same time sent such wild, passionate feelings through her that her face flamed with fire. Yet, how could she purge him from her thoughts since he’d become such a prominent figure in her life?

Even though she and Parker had taken down the posts that Ryder had defined as a fence, Ryder still stayed close, still slept on his bedroll outside her tent. Her bluster about his going back to his own camp and letting her tend to her own didn’t faze him. He went about each task as if she didn’t exist, ignoring her tirades. He was determined to be the proverbial thorn in her side.

Even so, she refused to speak to him as they each went about their business. He worked around the camp as if it were his while she planted flowers, washed clothing, cooked meals, and did a thousand other chores. Yet, her awareness of him kept her on edge. She often caught herself watching him, stripped to the waist, as he cut wood, worked the garden, and started the foundation of a house for her and Parker. The play of muscles across his back and arms reflected the bright sunlight, and his long, lithe body fascinated her. Many times she’d found herself storming off, away from the sight of him, trying to block him from her mind.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she let her gaze move to her reflection in the cracked mirror. She wondered if Ryder would like her dress.

A dart of anger knifed through her. He’d done it again. He’d slipped into her thoughts.

The jingle of harnesses and the thud of horses’ hooves outside pulled her attention to the yard just beyond the window. More guests were arriving for the dance. She took a deep breath, inhaling the pungent smell of the Warrens’ new wood house. Excitement bubbled up within her.

"You look beau-u-u-u-utiful!"

With her face feeling as if it were on fire, she pivoted to see Parker and Sadie standing in the bedroom doorway, grinning.

"Yes, you do look gorgeous, Dannie." Sadie followed Parker into the room. "That dress looks as if it were made for you. Giles is going to fall all over himself when he sees you."

Suddenly feeling a little like a harlot, Dannie turned and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. Bright red, the dress was of low bodice that revealed the gentle rise of her breasts and the start of cleavage. Short, puffed sleeves left her arms bare. The pointed waistline flowed into a draped skirt, from under which the toes of her kid shoes peeped. She had never worn such a daring dress before.

Was she too daring? She bit her lower lip. The new bust improver and corset pushed her breasts high and pointed - and suggestively. What would Ryder think?

Blushing, she looked up at Sadie’s smiling face. "It’s not too daring?"

"Not at all. Fetching is what it is." Sadie caught a fold of Dannie’s skirt and flared it out. Her gaze came back to rest on Dannie’s in the mirror. "You’ll not only have Mr. Giles tripping all over himself, but every other man at the dance, too. The women will be envious."

"Who gives a hoot ‘bout Giles?" Parker snorted. "She likes Ryder and Ryder likes her, but they stay mad at each other all time."

"Oh, hush, Parker!" Dannie snapped. "Why don’t you mind your own business and go find Peter? Besides, Ryder may be looking for you."

"Well, it’s true! You and him fight all time!"

"I said hush! Now get!"

With a sullen look, Parker turned and disappeared into the outer room.

"What is between you and Mr. Ryder, Dannie?" Sadie asked, inspecting the hang of the skirt’s hem.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Lifting her chin, Dannie watched Sadie fuss around her, smoothing wisps of hair into place, straightening the skirt, and puffing the sleeves.

"Oh, I don’t think so. Neither does half the territory." Still flitting about, she didn’t slow down as she straightened the neckline on Dannie’s shoulders.

Dannie’s heart seemed to stop. "What does that mean, Sadie?"

Her friend smiled and met her gaze in the mirror. "Well, rumors are that he’s living there in the same camp with you. Be warned, half the women in the territory will be here tonight and my mother-in-law will make certain they hear all about your living in sin."

"But I’m not . . . ! We’re not . . . !" She wanted to sink into a hole.

Unfazed, Sadie waved a hand. "What you do is none of my business or anyone else’s. It’s just that some people make it theirs." Stooping, she flared the skirt of Dannie’s dress, hiding the tip of her shoes. "Some people live to gossip, Mrs. Warren counted among them, God bless her."

Gnawing on her lip, Dannie stared into her own liquid eyes in the mirror. Could she trust Sadie? Would it be safe to tell her why she was here, that she and Parker were running from an abusive uncle? That Ryder had latched onto them and protected them, became their benefactor? How could she convince Sadie that nothing shameful was going on between her and Ryder - except for that one night in his bedroll when they had almost lost control?

"It’s just that Ryder and I claimed the same quarter section of land and neither one of us is willing to give it up and move on." Her words sounded hollow and lame even to her own ears. "He refuses to move to another camp. It’s true what Parker said. We don’t like each other."

A little smile curled the corners of Sadie’s mouth. "I have to agree with Parker, Dannie. I’ve seen how you two look at each other, especially when one thinks the other isn’t looking. I think you love him and he you."

"I do not love him!"

Sadie emitted a gentle laugh. "Then why are you so mad, Dannie?"

"I’m not mad!"

"Look at yourself and tell me that again." Clicking her tongue, she circled Dannie, giving her a minute appraisal. "I’d say you dressed tonight for a man."

"I did! Giles!"

Sadie shook her head. "I don’t think so, dear." Patting a stray twig of blonde hair back into place on her own head, she turned and moved toward the door. "I think I’d better go out and greet my guests. Are you coming?"

"I’ll be there in a minute."

"Don’t be long."

The door shut behind her. Dannie stared at herself in the mirror. She had to admit that everything Sadie said was true. She’d dressed for Ryder. She loved Ryder. Oh, dear God, how was she ever going to get herself out of this predicament?

With a myriad of emotions moving through her, she turned and walked out of the house to the front porch and glanced across the yard.

Twilight was deepening into the purples, golds, and grays of evening. Buggies, wagons, and horses halted as guests alighted and shouted greetings to each other. Laughter and the buzz of voices lifted across the light breeze as they ambled toward the huge barn glowing with light and colorful banners and lanterns. Another flutter of excitement rippled through her.

Where was Giles?

And Ryder?

Seeing Dannie standing on the front porch of the house, Ryder stiffened. The lighted lantern bestowed an eerie glow on her. She looked almost wraithlike. A vision in red. Her bare shoulders and arms glimmered like snow bathed in moonlight. The bodice fit over high, full breasts and encased the slender waist.

The roar in his ears drowned the conversation going on among the men around him. He swallowed and sucked in a long, hard gulp of air.

Woman. Every inch woman. From the top of her head, down her curvaceous body to the tip of the shoes peeping out from under the hem of her dress. How had he and hundreds of other men ever taken her to be a boy under that over-sized shirt and baggy britches garb? How had she pulled such a feat with a body like that?

Suddenly smiling, she moved toward the edge of the porch and reached out toward Giles standing at the bottom of the steps. Ryder’s smile faded and an irrational anger took hold of him. Grinning from ear to ear, Giles caught her hand, and she moved down the steps to stand beside him, her gaze focused on his lit face. Ryder snorted. It was obvious Giles was as smitten with her as he, himself, was.

Damn the man!

"She’s beautiful, isn’t she?"

Startled, Ryder turned to find himself looking into Sadie Warren’s smiling face. He felt heat cover him for being caught staring. He cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, she is."

"They make a lovely couple."

Ryder let his gaze follow Sadie’s back to the couple and noticed how Giles’ own gaze dropped and lingered on Dannie’s breasts. With anger flying over him, he glared after them as they moved away from the house and faded into the shadows toward the barn. "Yeah, don’t they?"

"When are you going to marry her?"

Startled, he looked into Sadie’s face, split with a smile, her blue eyes lit with laughter. Something churned and curdled in the pit of his stomach. "What gives you that cockeyed idea?"

Her smile spread. "You."

"You sound like Parker. Besides, I’m not interested."

She laughed. "Tell me that sometime when you’re not pining after her. Tell me that when you see her with Giles out on the dance floor."

The woman made him uncomfortable. Turning from her, he glanced over the crowd as it moved into the barn where the first notes of the fiddles, guitars, and piano sounded.

"Come on. I’ll let you have the first dance with me. I’m sure Ty won’t mind." Slipping her arm through his, Sadie led him toward the barn.

****

Snug in Giles’ arms and swinging across the dance floor, Dannie looked over his shoulder in search of Ryder and wondered where he was. Apprehension made her insides churn. What if he didn’t come? What if he went to town to visit that woman instead? After all, this morning he’d made no comment one way or the other about coming to the dance. Even when she’d sent Parker to discreetly find out if he was going to show up, he was noncommittal. Flinching, she wondered just how discreet Parker had been about asking him even after her admonishments to be so.

The couples pivoting around them made blurs of color. People were crowding the walls and gathered in the beds of buckboards and up in the loft. The lanterns strung on the rafters waved back in forth in the breeze whipping through the opened doors at both ends of the barn. The music lilted high and resounding. Another flutter of excitement made her shiver.

"Are you cold?" Giles asked, pulling her out of her reverie.

"Oh, no." She forced a smile to her lips. "It’s the party. The fun of it. It’s been so long since I’ve been to a party."

"We have ‘em quite regularly up at the Salt Fork. Big, fancy parties. You’ll have to come with me to the next one. Especially if you look as good as you do tonight."

She tried to ignore his glance to her breasts. "I’d love to." With another quick smile, she looked over his shoulder, swinging her gaze across the jovial crowd just as Ryder, with Sadie at his side, came into the barn. He moved with confidence and commanded the attention of everyone in the room as he held out his arms and Sadie moved into them. They swung out into the dancers.

Riveted, Dannie couldn’t take her eyes off him. So tall and powerful in a fresh white shirt and tight black pants that clung to his hips and legs, he moved with calculated ease, his attention focused on Sadie. It seemed as if he’d shut out the entire world except for Sadie, who looked as if she were about to burst with adoration. In fact, every woman in the room seemed to be mesmerized by him, their faces wistful with longing as they whispered behind cupped hands. Jealousy tore through her with such a violence that she shook.

"You are cold," Giles said, bringing her attention back to him. "You’re shivering."

"How can I be cold?" She forced a chuckle. "In fact, it’s warm in here, don’t you think?"

Giles gaze darted to her mouth, then back to her eyes. "Would you like to go out for fresh air?"

"Oh, no. I’m fine. Really." Despite herself, her gaze darted back to Ryder.

The music lilted to an end. Ryder dropped his arms and Sadie stepped away from him. She said something to him, turned, and moved into the crowd. His head lifted, his gaze coming to rest on Dannie’s. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t.

"You’re a beautiful woman, Dannie," Giles said, his voice low, close to her ear.

Reluctant, she looked up at him. His blue eyes reflected his appreciation of her. "Thank you, Giles."

"Wilson. Call me Wilson."

She gave a brief nod. "Wilson."

The music began. Giles’ arm slid around her waist and he swung her into the first steps of the dance. Again Dannie caught herself looking for Ryder, finally spotting him promenading a dark-headed woman round, their gazes fixed on each other. Jealousy stung deep. Wasn’t he holding her too closely? A little too intimately to be proper?

Suddenly irritated and impatient with herself and the power he wielded over her, Dannie placed a bright smile on her face and looked up at Giles.

Jealousy stung Ryder as he watched Giles swing Dannie around the floor. Wasn’t he holding Dannie a little too closely? Too intimately - as if she belonged to him? She was smiling a little too warmly and seemed to be enjoying being held by him. Silently, he cursed under his breath and, although the woman he was dancing with was attractive and obviously smitten with him, he wished the music would end.

Then, as if an answer to his wish, Ryder felt a tap on his shoulder and turning, he relinquished his dance partner to the man standing behind him. Nodding his appreciation to the woman, he headed toward Dannie. Giles glared as he approached. Dannie sucked in a gulp of air and a tinge of pink colored her cheeks. With his gaze fixed on her, intending to be obnoxious to Giles, he announced, "My turn, Giles."

Giles glanced from his face to Dannie’s. "What do you say, Dannie?"

"She has no choice." Brushing Giles’ hand off her shoulder, Ryder wrapped his arm around her waist before giving either of them time to protest.

"Like hell she doesn’t--" Giles began.

"Please," Dannie cut in. "It’s all right."

"Do you think you own me, Ryder?" She glared at him as they swung onto the dance floor.

Noting the bright color of her cheeks, Ryder chuckled. "You could’ve declined my offer."

"And make a scene in front of everyone? Besides, you hardly gave me the opportunity."

"I don’t trust him."

"You don’t know him."

"I know when a man wants a woman." His gaze darted down to the swell of her breasts pressed against his chest. She felt light and pliable in his arms. The sudden vivid memory of seeing her naked on his bedroll surged through him. His body tensed.

Her eyes took on a new glint and her cheeks colored as if she read his mind. "He’s an honorable man. That’s more than what I can say about you."

"He’s a man and would have to be blind not to find you attractive."

A little smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. "I don’t recall asking you to be my protector."

"No, I don’t guess you did. Somehow I just wound up doing it."

Her cheeks glowed pinker. "You’re free to walk away."

He studied her face, her eyes sparkling with fire under long, thick lashes, and her lips as moist and pink as a rose petal under dew. She smelled of something soft and pleasant, like the fragrance of gardenias on the breeze. He breathed in deeply, wanting to take that mouth with his own. "Do you want me to?"

She opened her mouth to speak, then as if changing her mind as to what to say, closed it.

"Time’s up, pal."

Ryder felt the poke of a finger against his back. Scowling, he turned and came face to face with Giles. "Not for long, pal." He reluctantly released Dannie.

With a smirk, Giles took Dannie into his arms and whirled away with her. Standing in the center of the floor, Ryder’s gaze caught Dannie’s over Giles’ shoulder just as they disappeared into the maze of dancers. A chill moved through him, making him shiver.

****

Dannie wished the music would end. Wrapped in Giles’ arms, she searched over his shoulder for some sign of Ryder. She hadn’t seen him in some time, not since she’d seen him dancing with a young woman who looked with doe eyes, full of shining admiration, up into his face. He, too, seemed to be smitten with her, for his gaze never left her face. Jealousy stung hard and deep into her heart. What was he up to?

"I’m very dry, Wilson," she said, moving her gaze to Giles’ face. "Would you mind getting me some punch, please?"

He grinned and glanced down her at her as he released her. "Sure. I’ll be right back."

Moving toward a vacant bench, she saw Parker sitting with Peter in the bed of a buckboard, playing his harmonica. Picking up a fold her of dress, she moved to him.

"Parker."

"Yeah?" Moving the harmonica from his mouth, he looked at her.

"Have you seen Ryder?" She hoped her tone didn’t reveal the desperation she felt.

"Naw, not lately. Why?"

"Well, it’s just that I haven’t seen him . . . ." She looked around them, again aware of the hushed whispers.

"Last I saw of him, he was headed out the door."

She swallowed and decided to risk her brother’s ridicule for asking. "Alone?"

A wide grin spread Parker’s face. "Yeah."

Incredible relief surged through her. "Do you think he went back to camp?"

"I dunno." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t think he’d leave without telling me or you."

"Well, maybe." She again glanced around. "I’m going for a breath of air." She moved through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

Standing in the shaft of light spilling through the opened doors of the barn, she halted and glanced over the dark yard. Gentle laughter floated on the night breeze. Trees rustled and locusts whirred. Several couples stood in the shadows.

Then she saw him sitting on the end of a wagon, holding a baby in his arms. Light reflected against his face and her heart warmed with the softness she saw there as he talked to the child. A little nervous, she moved toward him and halted within a few feet of him. He looked up, his dark eyes sparkling. His expression didn’t change as he waited for her to speak. Suddenly at a loss for words, she pushed a wisp of hair off her face and wished she hadn’t been so obvious.

"Did you miss me, Dannie?" he asked at last.

Embarrassment flowed through her. She stiffened, moved beside him, and smiled down into baby Joshua’s face. "No, I didn’t. I came out for fresh air." She ran a finger along a chubby cheek.

"What’s the trouble? Giles too full of hot air for you?" As if dismissing her, he looked away from her, into the baby’s face and let him curl his fingers around his long one.

"You need to learn some manners, Ryder." She suddenly became aware of his bay rum fragrance. Why did everything about him send her senses reeling?

He chuckled, still studying the baby. "Seems you have enough for me and you both - especially when it comes to Giles."

"Are you jealous, Ryder?" She rested her folded hands on her hips.

"Not in the least. But seems to me you’re the one who’s jealous. You came out here looking for me." Lifting the baby higher, he grinned. "Come on, bronco. Give Ryder a smile."

"I did not!" Suddenly horrified that she may have spoken too loudly, she glanced around to see if she’d caught the attention of those nearby. "I wonder why you’re out here entertaining the baby and not inside being sociable? I’m sure there’s a few women in there that are mighty disappointed that you haven’t asked them to dance."

"Never mind why I’m out here. You may have to explain to your escort why you’re out here in the dark with me." He gave a curt nod toward the barn.

Turning, she saw Giles standing in the light of the opened doorway, a glass of punch in his hand, his gaze coming to rest on her. Scowling, he strode toward her. "What’re you doing out here, Dannie?"

Lifting her chin, she glared at him. "I came for some fresh air."

"Yeah, it looks like you are." He threw Ryder a hard glance.

"I’m tired, Wilson." Her annoyance with both men was growing. "Please, take me home."

"Now? It’s still early."

"Now."

"Ah-ah! He smiled!" Lifting the baby higher, Ryder suddenly roared with glee. "D’ya see that? He smiled!"

Dannie couldn’t contain her own smile that crept across her face. Stooping, she gave the baby a soft kiss on his cheek. Rising, she met Ryder’s dark eyes for a minute, then turned and slipped her arm through Wilson’s. "You don’t mind if Parker rides back with you, do you, Ryder?"

Deep penetrating eyes held hers.

"Not at all, Miss Jacobs," he answered, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

She planted a bright smile on her face. "Thanks."

With heavy heart and his gut curdling, Ryder watched Dannie walk away with Giles into the darkness, his arm planted firmly around her waist. As if he owns her. The glitter of the evening dimmed. Even the baby did nothing to lift his spirits.

He blinked and watched as Giles handed Dannie up into a wagon, one hand gliding a little too intimately along her arm while the other lingered at her waist before he climbed in beside her. With a flip of the reins, they rode off into the night.

Bitter uneasiness churned deep in the pit of his stomach. His lawman instincts stirred. Something wasn’t right.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Turning his attention off Dannie as she faded into the night with Giles, Ryder strode into the barn and relinquished baby Josh to Sadie. Walking back outside, the glitter of the evening having dimmed, he glanced across the dark yard. The rise of loud voices and the thud of flesh against flesh broke the stillness. Moving toward the sounds of the fight, he rounded the corner of the barn just as Parker took a sharp jab to the chin. He reeled to the ground. Blood poured from his nose. Two taller, older boys stood over him, fists folded, legs spread, waiting to give him another punch.

"Get up, you yellow-livered coward," one snarled, "and call me that again!"

Wiping his arm across his nose, Parker glared up at his attacker. "You’re a liar!"

"You cussed lickfinger!" The two boys fell on him, fists and feet flying.

"What’s going on here?" Snatching both boys by the collars, Ryder yanked them to their feet. Wide-eyed with surprise and fear, the boys stood rigidly in front of him, their throats bobbing.

"Are you all right?" Reaching down, he took Parker’s hand and pulled him to his feet. Blood ran from his nose and mouth and his right eye was already swelling.

"Yeah, I’m fine." He smeared his sleeve across his face and glared at his assailants.

"I asked you what’s going on?" Ryder turned his attention back to the boys.

"Nothin’," one answered sullenly. "We’re just havin’ a little fun, that’s all."

"He called Dannie a whore," Parker cried.

"I did not!"

"You did, too!"

Fury ripped through Ryder. "Where’d you hear talk like that? Parker’s not old enough to understand the word."

One of the boys shuffled his feet. "Everybody’s talkin’. . . ." He looked down at his feet and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"Who’s talking?" Reaching out, he snatched the front of the boy’s shirt, twisting the collar, bringing him almost to his toes.

"Everyone!" Bug-eyed, his wild hair dangling across his forehead, the kid gaped at him. "Everyone knows you live with her!"

Ryder sucked in a deep, painful breath. "We happen to live on the same piece of land. Until the courts decide which one of us owns it, we’re forced to share the same land. That doesn’t mean we’re living together."

"Everybody says you are," the other boy added. "We’re just tellin’ Jacobs here the truth, that’s all."

Suddenly grabbing both boys by the collars, Ryder pulled them to him. "Don’t you breathe another word about Dannie Jacobs - to anyone. The next time I’ll come after you myself. You’ll wind up looking worse than Parker here. Do you understand me?"

Mouths slack, visibly trembling, both boys nodded and gasped for breath against the strangling grip he had on their throats. He threw them away from him. "Get out of here before I change my mind!"

As if they couldn’t move fast enough, they spun about and ran into the darkness.

Ryder caught Parker’s chin and lifted it against the pale light. Blood dribbled from his nose and a cut on his forehead. His bruised eye was already turning blue. "You’re banged up pretty good." Pulling a handkerchief out of his hip pocket, he dabbed gently at Parker’s face.

Wincing, Parker jerked away. "I’m all right."

"Come on. We’re going home." Wrapping his arm around the lad’s shoulders, Ryder led him toward their tethered horses.

"Ryder."

"Yeah."

"What’s a whore?"

Startled, Ryder swallowed hard and sucked in a long, deep breath. What would come out of the boy’s mouth next? "It’s a not-nice word to describe a not-so-nice woman."

"They said she was your kept woman. What does that mean?"

Taking in another long breath, Ryder halted and looked down into Parker’s face. "Another not-so-nice word to describe a not-so-nice woman." He felt as if they were talking in riddles.

"But what does it mean - Dannie being your kept woman?" His eyebrows knitted together.

Ryder contemplated his words carefully. "Well, it’s a woman who’s being kept by a man outside of marriage."

"But aren’t you taking care of Dannie and me?" His frown deepened.

Damn! Would this conversation ever end? "In a sense I am but not in the way those urchins meant it. We aren’t pretending to be married."

"But you kissed her, didn’t ya?"

Ryder shifted his weight and emitted a long sigh. "Yes, I kissed her but that doesn’t mean we’re acting as if we’re married."

"But you love her, don’t you?"

All innocence, Parker’s face studied Ryder carefully, making him uncomfortable. Yes, I think I love her. "We’ve had this conversation be--"

"Then why’d you kiss her?"

"Parker." His tone came out sharper than he intended. "We’ve already talked about this. We need to get home to see if she’s all right."

Pursuing his lips, Parker kicked at the ground. "Yeah, I guess we’d better. She’s with that Giles fellow, isn’t she?"

"That’s right." Sliding his arm around Parker’s shoulders, he moved on toward the horse. "That’s why we’ve got to get home."

****

The night closed in around them as Dannie rode with Giles into camp. It was a pleasant evening with the stars so bright that it seemed she could reach out and pluck one from the sky. The breeze made comforting rustling noises through the treetops against the sounds of birds and locusts. The tent and other objects were dark masses in the pale moonlight. She thought everything looked peaceful amid the cool spring night.

Even being with Giles was comforting and the faint scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. She let her gaze slide to him, noting the fine, sharply defined facial features compared to Ryder’s strong, square face. Ryder’s neck would make two of his long, spindly one, his shoulders twice the width of the man who held the reins.

If only it were Ryder who rode beside her . . . .

"Did I tell you how pretty you look tonight?" Giles asked.

"Only a hundred times," she laughed.

He groped, found her hand in her lap and squeezed. "Your skin looks like soft cream. You smell nice, too."

"You don’t smell so bad yourself."

With a "Whoa!" he pulled the horse to a halt. His eyes sparkled down at her as he glanced over her face then her bosom. "Every man at that dance tonight wanted you, Dannie." He stroked her jaw with his fingers.

Uneasy, she glanced away from him, out into the darkness. "I’m sure every woman there wished you were escorting her." Trying not to appear too obvious, she inched away from him.

"Kiss me, Dannie." He moved closer.

Her gaze came back to his. "It’s late--"

"I want you, Dannie. Ever since I first saw you, I knew I had to have you." Desperation edged his tone.

Fear began to stir, the impact of how alone they were knifing through her. "Parker and Ryder--"

". . . won’t be along for hours. They’re having too much fun." He leaned closer.

She felt her heart leap into her throat, choking her. Lifting a fold of her skirt, she prepared to step down out of the wagon. "Please, Wilson."

His hand on her arm tightened. "One kiss. Just one kiss."

"Not right now." If only she could distract him. If only she hadn’t been so foolish to have come with him alone! If only she hadn’t tried to make Ryder jealous! "I . . . we don’t know each other too well."

White teeth flashed in the moonlight. "A kiss will help us to get to know each other, don’t you think? I want a kiss now." Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed his mouth against her throat.

"Wilson!" Spreading her hands against his chest, she pushed. He didn’t budge. His lips traveled lower toward her breasts. Her heart thundered in her ears. Panic chilled her. "Wilson, stop!"

"Not now. This is what I want, and I know you want it, too."

His breath felt hot and moist against her bare skin. His hand slid to her breast as his mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. He tasted of whiskey. She wanted to gag as his arms tightened around her, pressing her so tightly against him her ribs hurt. Struggling to free herself, she pounded her folded fists against him and felt herself being lowered to the narrow seat, his body heavy upon her.

His hand groped. He yanked at the neckline of her dress. The other hand tugged at her skirt in an effort to pull it up. So frightened she could hardly breathe, she wrenched her mouth away.

"Stop!" she screamed, striking blindly at his face.

With a yelp of surprise and pain, he released her. He stroked the side of his face where her blow had landed.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, she rolled out from under him and scrambled out of the wagon, tripping on her skirt. Terror choked her.

"Hey, Dannie! I’m not gonna hurt you!"

She heard his shout somewhere behind her. With the hem of her skirt lifted, she fled - to where she didn’t know. In her panic, she realized she had nowhere to run. He certainly could outrun her. Still, with every thud of her thundering heart, she forced wind into her lungs. Then spying the cold coffeepot sitting on a table outside the tent, she snatched it up and hurled it with all her might at him. Raising his arms, he dodged, catching a glancing blow against his shoulder. Cold dregs splattered on him. Cursing and hardly breaking stride, he kicked the coffeepot away. His face contorted with fury, he came after her.

A scream bubbled up in her throat. She tried to run. His hands snatched her arms, yanking her to a brutal halt. With a jarring jolt, he threw her to the ground, knocking her senseless for a minute. Acting on fear and anger, she tried to roll away from him. He was too quick. He grabbed her shoulder and pressed her back against the hard ground. His wide, wild eyes reminded her of a cat’s as he glared down at her, his chin slack, his body pulsating over her.

"You damned little bitch! You’re up for grabs! Everyone knows you let Ryder have it and what he gets is for anyone, me included! A man like him won’t mind sharing!"

"No . . . no . . !" She gasped for breath. His weight bore into her. Mustering all the strength she could, she managed to free one arm and reach toward the row of rocks circling the campfire. If only she could get a hold of one

. . . !

His mouth took hers, hard, wet, and sloppy. Terror such as she had never known knifed through her. A sense of helpless engulfed her as his hot hands moved over her body, then lifted her skirt and glided up her leg.

Oh, dear God, death surely must be better than this!

She stretched farther, putting all her strength in the effort. At last, her fingertips touched the cold surface of a rock.

Ryder! Maybe Ryder is on his way!

His weight pressed down on her, his legs rendering hers useless. She never dreamed he had so much strength. Through the roar, the hammer of her heart in her ears, she heard the distant tear of her dress. His mouth moved from hers, down her neck to her breast.

The rock remained just far enough away that she couldn’t get a grip on it. Dear God, help me!

She heard a scream, a distant, heart-stopping scream, then realized it came from her own throat.

"Scream all you want to, baby, but nobody’s going to hear you out way out here." His voice sounded fiendish.

Giving one last thrust of her hand, she managed to roll the rock into her hand. Clutching it as if it was a lifeline, she brought it down against his shoulder. With a yelp of pain and surprise, he snatched her arm.

"Don’t get brave, baby!"

"You damned son-of-a-bitch!"

Sudden release came to her. At first not realizing that Giles no longer rested on her, she lay in the grass, panting and staring up at the dark, star-adorned sky. Then the sound of fists pounding flesh penetrated her numb mind, and shaking, she managed to sit up.

"Dannie, are you all right?"

His face slack with alarm, Parker bent over her.

Suddenly becoming aware of Ryder and Giles grappling on the ground, she felt her panic subside and mortification and anger knife through her. Pulling her torn dress up over her breasts, she glanced down at herself. Thank God he hadn’t gotten to her chemise, saving some of her dignity.

"Dannie, are you hurt?" Parker repeated beside her.

"I . . . I’m fine." Hot, heavy tears filled her eyes. Her chin trembled.

"You don’t look so fine." Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he looked at the two men.

Dannie followed her brother’s gaze. Ryder had yanked Giles to his feet and was plowing his fists into his face. He reeled backward against a tree, and Ryder leaped on him again.

Even through her daze, Dannie realized Ryder’s blows against Giles’ face were ruthless, deadly, with all his strength behind them. Giles was barely standing, his arms lifted wearily against the onslaught, his face hardly more than a bloody mass. If Ryder didn’t stop . . . .

"Ryder!" she screamed, scrambling to her feet and staggering. "Ryder! You’re going to kill him!"

"The son-of-a-bitch deserves to die!"

"But not by you!" Grabbing his arm, she tried to pull him away. He jerked free.

"Ryder!"

As if her screams at last penetrated his senses, Ryder dropped his arms and stepped away. Moaning, Giles slowly crumpled to the ground, half-conscious. Blood poured from his face, one eye already beginning to swell.

Parker’s arms moved around Dannie’s waist, clinging to her. Appreciating his strength, she slid her arm around his shoulders and hugged him close.

Ryder stirred at last, breaking the tensed stillness.

She lifted her gaze, meeting his. Another surge of mortification moved through her. Blinking back another onslaught of tears, she looked away and tightened her grip on her torn dress.

Ryder took a tentative step toward her. "Are you all right, Dannie?"

Paralyzed with embarrassment, she stood, unable to move or meet his gaze.

"Dannie."

His touch on her chin felt as gentle as his voice sounded. He emitted strength and comfort in that touch as he lifted her head, forcing her to meet his eyes. She blinked, fighting the tears, then pulling away from him, dropped her head into her hands and let the tears fall unashamedly. What must he think of her? That she’d asked for it by wearing such a daring dress then coming alone with Giles back to camp? That she’d led him on - the same way she’d led Ryder on there in his bedroll?

Parker’s arms tightened around her, then Ryder’s warmth enveloped her as he slipped his arm around her and led her into the tent. Her knees felt like rubber, ready to give way beneath her as he sat her on the cot.

"I’ll be right back." His tone held an odd combination of tenderness and anger. He touched her cheek with his fingertips, a warm, comforting gesture, then turned and strode out of the tent.

"Parker, take care of the horses. I’ll take care of this . . . this . . ." she heard him call. ". . . animal."

Unable to hold the tears back any longer, Dannie fell onto the cot, face down and let the sobs come. She felt soiled, ruined, and guilty.

Thoughts tumbled through her mind with lightning speed. Giles’ touches were loathsome and repulsive. Why were his caresses so abhorrent when she’d enjoyed Ryder’s? Had she indeed become a woman of soiled reputation? Perhaps going back to Kansas City would be preferable to living here, fighting the land, the weather for a home in such a wild untamed land, with people thinking the worst of her, with men such as Giles thinking she was ready for the picking. Besides, knowing how determined her uncle could be, his men were more than likely hot on her trail, ready to take her and Parker back to him anyway. At least she and Parker would have a roof over their heads and nice, comfortable beds to sleep in, and protection from all the Gileses of the world.

Suddenly feeling as if everything was crashing in around her, she sniffled aloud, wondering if she’d be better off dead.

Ryder heard her soft sobbing before he entered the tent. Glancing toward Parker still unsaddling the horses, he threw back the flap of the tent and stepped inside.

Dannie lay stomach-down on the cot, her face buried in her arms, her body heaving. Her beautiful hair, having come free of its combs, fanned over her shoulders like strands of silk.

His stomach tightened. Balling his hands into tight fists, he suspected that the outlaw, Night Rider, had manifested himself in each blow he’d given Wilson Giles. Was it in him to kill? If Dannie had not sobered him, would he have had the sense to stop short of murder? The man had assaulted Dannie, abused her, laid hands on her in a way no man should and that infuriated him to the point of losing control.

He reached for the lantern and turned up the wick. Soft golden light filled the tent.

"Dannie." He kneeled on the ground beside her and hesitantly touched her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

As if unwilling to allow him to touch her, she shifted her shoulder out from under his hand, sniffed, and nodded, her face still buried in her arms.

"I’m sorry, Dannie." He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Wiping her hand across her cheeks and clutching the shreds of torn dress against her, she sat up, her face bowed, her trembling hand covering her cheek. "Where is he?"

"Tied up outside. I’m taking him to the sheriff."

She licked her lower lip, then looked at him. Her eyes and face glistened with tears against the lamplight. "Don’t do that, Ryder."

"I’ve got to." His hand curled over her bare shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze. "He tried to assault you and he has to answer to that."

Her forehead furrowed. "No. I . . . I don’t want people to know."

"It’s not your fault, Dannie." His grasp on her shoulder tightened. "He tried to force himself on you and no man has that right."

"It’d be his word against mine." Sniffing, she looked away. "It’s too embarrassing--"

"It’s not his word against yours. Parker and I saw what was going on. He needs to be stopped or how many other women will he try to assault and maybe succeed?"

Her troubled gaze came back to him. Fresh tears glistened in her eyes. "I shouldn’t have dressed so. . . ."

"So what, Dannie?" He pushed a strand of hair off her face. "So fetching?" He forced a smile. "You were beautiful tonight. Any man would have to be blind not to see that, but that gave him no right to do what he tried to do." Pausing, he sucked in a deep breath, his heart aching for her. "It wasn’t your fault."

"Maybe it was." Biting her lower lip, she moved her gaze off him. "He thought I was easy because . . . ." Breaking off her words, she met his gaze. ". . .because you’re living here in the camp with us. He thinks you and I are. . . ."

He saw her swallow. Reaching out, he wiped a tear off her cheek. "Are what, Dannie?"

"Lovers. That’s why he thought I was easy. I have a reputation."

A tight band closed around Ryder’s heart. He had set her up for this. He’d been foolish to have moved uninvited into her camp and unwittingly started rumors about her. He hadn’t thought about the repercussions it might bring her. "I’m sorry." His voice was thick. "If you want me to, I’ll go back to my own camp tonight. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have."

Her tongue flicked across her lip. "I’m taking Parker and we’re leaving."

Surprised, Ryder caught her hand and squeezed it. "Why?"

"This is no good. I’m sick of this camp. I’m sick of living in a tent, waiting for a house to be built. I’m sick of looking over my shoulder, expecting to find Uncle Gilmer’s men there. I want to sleep in a nice, warm bed with a feather mattress and eat a hot cooked meal served on bone china and drink wine from crystal stemware." Halting, she sniffed and blinked hard. "I shouldn’t have brought Parker out here. I should’ve stayed where I belong."

"You did what you thought was best for both of you." Tightening is grip on her hand, he realized that her words came out of fatigue and frustration. "You took Parker and yourself out of an abusive situation. No one can fault you for that."

"But here?" She glanced around at their primitive surroundings. "We could have gone to a big city somewhere that was civilized. We could have gotten lost among the people."

"Why did you come out here, Dannie? To an untamed, uncivilized country? To a lifestyle so far removed from what you and Parker knew?" Her skin felt warm under his hand. The urge to batter Giles again surged through him.

"Uncle Gilmer swore he’d never venture west." She sniffed. "I thought Oklahoma would be the last place he’d think to look for us, because he would never think I’d be so bold . . . or dumb."

A pause fell. The soft sounds of night surrounded them as Ryder lost himself in the depth of her eyes, the color of sapphire jewels. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to tell her he loved her, but forcibly restrained himself. She’d just been assaulted by a man. He feared she wouldn’t take too kindly to any man’s attentions right now, and he certainly didn’t want to make her any more fearful.

"You’ve fought too hard for this land, Dannie. You’re not a quitter. In a couple of weeks, your house will be finished, then you can start furnishing it. It’ll be more like home. You don’t have to go back to your uncle."

"This land is yours, too, Ryder. The court may decide it’s yours, then I’d have no place to go."

"Then ya’ll can get married and settle everything!"

Parker stepped through the tent opening. Crossing his arms over his puffed chest, as if he’d made an important decision, he looked at them, a delighted smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

Despite her tears, Dannie gave a soft, nervous laugh that quickly dissolved into a look of horror. "Parker, what on earth happened to you?"

Shifting his gaze toward Ryder, Parker shuffled his feet. "Ah . . .I . . .I . . . ."

"He got in a minor squabble at the dance," Ryder interjected. "I took care of it. Besides, you should see the other boys’ faces."

Parker beamed. "I did get a lick or two in."

"Let’s not worry your sister about that tonight--"

"Who were the boys?" Dannie demanded. "What in the world is worth fighting over?"

Parker’s gaze again swung to Ryder as if pleading for help. "They called--"

"You know boys, Dannie." Ryder caught Parker’s shoulder and squeezed hard, hoping he would get the message to shut his mouth. "Boys get into fights at his age. They have to work off all that excess energy somehow. Besides, Parker’s not hurt bad." He rose to his feet, hoping to change the subject. "How’s our prisoner?"

"Mad as he--" Parker cut his gaze to his sister. "Madder than a hornet."

"Well, he can wait until morning before I take him in to see the marshal in Guthrie." Ryder ruffled Parker’s hair. "Now, I think it’s time we got some sleep." He glanced toward Dannie. Still clutching her torn dress against her, she buried her face in her hands. She trembled. His heart ached for her.

"Dannie."

She looked up.

"Would you like to spend the night with Sadie? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind and Parker and I’ll ride back over there with you. It may make you feel better."

"No!" She shook her head. "I don’t want anyone to know! No one at all!"

"You’re not afraid to stay out here with just you and Parker alone?"

"Where’re you going?" Parker asked.

"Back to my own camp." Ryder let his gaze move back to Dannie. "If that’s what she wants."

Dannie wasn’t sure what she wanted. She didn’t want Ryder to leave her, yet she no longer felt comfortable with him being so close. Fright nipped her at the thought of her and Parker being so alone. The security of her camp had been shattered. She no longer felt safe. Warmth toward Ryder for his concern touched her heart, and lifting her gaze, she met his dark eyes in the soft glow of the lantern.

"Stay just for the night," she said hardly above a whisper, feeling the caress of his gaze on her. With him so near, she felt protected and safe.

"Do you want me to keep watch over Giles, Ryder?" Parker’s eyes, focused on Ryder, shone with eagerness. "He needs watching, don’t you think?"

"No, I don’t think he needs watching over with the way I’ve got him trussed up. He can’t budge. You get some sleep and I’ll be right outside."

"Ah, shucks." Kicking at a clump of grass, his face showing his disappointment, Parker turned and moved out of the tent.

Suddenly feeling shy and chagrined, Dannie hugged her dress closer to her. Still, she found herself looking up into Ryder’s face, soft with concern.

"Are you all right, Dannie?"

She nodded. "I want to take a bath."

He sat down beside her and took her shoulders in his hands.

"I feel so dirty. . . ."

"You’re not dirty, Dannie." Running a finger across her cheek, he brushed away a tear. "Now, you try to get some sleep. I’ll take Giles into Guthrie as soon as it’s light in the morning and you won’t have to see him."

She forced a weak smile. "Thank you, Ryder." I think I love you, Ryder.

As if reluctant to leave her, he dropped his hand and rose. His intense gaze held hers for a moment, then he turned and stepped out of the tent.

Sleep didn’t come for Dannie as she lay wide awake on the cot and listened to the sounds of the night outside the tent. Parker was sleeping soundly in the next cot and it had been a long time since she’d heard Ryder moving about. Even the campfire no longer glowed. Wave after wave of mortification and anger kept her so wound up she’d gotten up once and paced. Exhausted, she lay back down and tried to sleep. Still she tossed and turned with ugly memories of what Giles had tried to do to her.

How could she have misjudged someone so badly? How could she have trusted a man she hardly knew so completely?

With her face burning, she sat up and reached for her wrapper and slipped it on. She felt as if she was suffocating. She had to get out to get some fresh air.

Shoving aside the tent flap, she hesitated. Biting her lower lip, and deliberately refusing to look at Giles still tied to the tree where Ryder had left him, she moved away from the tent.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Hearing the whisper-soft sound of movement, Ryder came instantly awake. Grabbing his gun, he raised himself up and glanced around. Dannie was moving like a wispy luminescence through the camp, her long hair flowing behind her, the hem of her robe swaying around her ankles.

Where the hell was she going this time of night? Tugging his boots on, he glanced toward Giles, hardly detectable in the deep shadows. Even in his uncomfortable position propped up against the tree, he looked to be sound asleep. With gun in hand, Ryder started after her.

He followed her just beyond the camp until she sat down on a boulder on the creek bank and looked up toward the glowing moon. He caught his breath and halted. Her hair blew away from her face and, her body, elegantly slim with high, firm breasts, looked wraithlike against the silvery glow.

He took a step, then seeing the nodding blooms of Indian Blanket wildflowers, stooped and plucked one, and moved toward her.

Suddenly, with a start, she turned toward him. Tears glistened against her cheeks. He swallowed hard. Time hung suspended between them. What was it about this woman that made him feel like a bumbling schoolboy and stirred every emotion in him?

Dannie couldn’t pull her gaze off him. Wearing only denim pants and boots, his slim body moved in perfect symmetry, as graceful and powerful as that of a buck. Moon glow reflected against his bare, muscular shoulders and chest. The memory of being held in his arms rushed back full force, making her entire body flush hotly.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked a little gruffly.

She tilted her chin in defiance. "I couldn’t sleep."

He sat down beside her, and with the confidence of a man used to giving such attention to women, pushed the flower in her hair above her right ear. "I thought a flower might make you feel better."

Feeling her heart swell, she gently touched the soft petals. "Thank you."

"It won’t be long until dawn."

She sucked in a deep breath. The subtle fragrance of his cologne whiffed to her. Their being so alone, half-dressed, seemed tempestuously erotic. If their neighbors could only see them now. . . . "It’s been a long night. Why did you follow me and Giles from the dance?"

"I had a feeling something wasn’t right." His gaze moved over her face.

She smiled and brushed at an errant strand of hair. "That lawmen instinct doesn’t fade away, does it?"

"Once a lawman, always one, I guess." He returned her smile with one of his own.

"I’m thankful yours is still working."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Thank you." Her voice was hardly above a whisper. Uncomfortable with their closeness, with the powerful pull he had on her, she looked away from him, out across the softly gurgling water of the creek. Frogs croaked. A dove cooed in the distance. Crickets chirped.

She turned her gaze back to him. She didn’t know men could be so compassionate and understanding . . . as well as confoundedly appealing. Although barely remembering her own father, she recalled how she used to sit in his lap while he read stories to her. She remembered him as being warm and compassionate. Very unlike Uncle Mason, a cold, harsh man.

Ryder made her feel so warm, secure, and protected. No man ever made her feel so comfortable and confident in herself.

"You’re so different from any man I’ve ever known, Ryder." Pausing, she studied the strong, clean lines of his face, the black eyes that seemed to pierce into her soul, the square jaws and cleft chin under a strong, masculine mouth and nose. A dark beard shadowed the lower half of his face, a face she wanted to touch. Fearing that such a simple gesture would arouse leashed emotion in her, she kept her hand in her lap. "Have you ever loved a woman?"

She waited, wondering where that question came from and feeling a little chagrined. His eyes suddenly shadowed and his jaw twitched. She knew she’d brought back unpleasant memories for him. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry."

"No, that’s all right." Blinking, he looked toward the sky, flickering with splendor. "Yes, I loved . . . and lost once."

"Were you married?" She hardly breathed for fear of what his answer would be.

"No." He gave a short shake of his head.

"Engaged?" She knew she was being too nosy, but couldn’t keep herself from asking.

"Yeah. When I decided to join the Bartell gang and bring them to justice, she gave me a choice, either my law career or her."

Thinking the woman to be the biggest fool this side of Heaven, Dannie said softly, "That must have hurt."

"She decided she couldn’t be a lawman’s wife. I had to make the worst decision of my life. I chose the career. I had to bring my parents’ murderers to justice. She walked away from me. The last I heard she’s married and has children now." His gaze moved back to her.

A little smile curled the corners of his mouth. His eyes took on a brighter glint, as if he were amused that she was so curious. A bit miffed that he understood her curiosity about him too well, she glanced away from him.

He chuckled. "You remind me of my sister, Jane. I’ve never known any woman any more hot-tempered and so cussedly infuriating in my life as you two."

Dannie smiled, wondering if she should be impressed or not.

His eyes sparkled with delight. "I love her children as if they were my own. As soon as we get this land out of dispute, she’s coming out here to live. I told her we’d build a house for her since she’s so independent and refuses to live with me." He gave another gentle laugh. "I don’t know how I’ll put up with two bull-headed women."

"Well, maybe we’ll become friends."

His smile faded. "Not if I have to move on. Or you do."

Suddenly sobered by his words, she blinked away a new threat of tears and looked out across the creek. "Ryder, did you ever have to kill a man when you were in the gang?"

Uncomfortable with the question, Ryder rose, and shoving his hands deep into his pockets, moved toward the creek.

"I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it--"

"No, I need to." Turning, he saw that she’d come to her feet, that wispy vision in white. Soft waves of hair blew around her shoulders. Her skin glowed spectrally white in the moonlight. A knot formed in his gut. "I managed to get by without killing a man," he said, surprised that talking about it somehow brought relief. "The one time I saw no way out of killing, one of the gang members, Pennywell, unwittingly barged in, giving the man time to escape." He chuckled, remembering. "Pennywell, the wrong man at the wrong place with the wrong people."

"Was he your friend?"

"He was if you could call a comrade in crime a friend. He was a little slow, touched in the head as some people tagged him. He had the mentality of a ten-year-old who served as no more than a slave to the others, even me. He did our bidding like a cowed puppy. And . . . ." Blinking and feeling the pain of remembering, he looked away from her.

". . .he took to me. He idolized me and I hated it. I was a fraud, a counterfeit and had to keep lying to him. When the gang was brought in, he was given a lighter sentence than the others because of his mentality."

"Is he still in prison?"

"I don’t know. In a way, I hope so. In another way, I hope not."

Drawn to him, as if pulled by some electrical spark, she lifted her face, her gaze meeting his. She knew she couldn’t rest until she heard from his own lips that he was still an honorable man. "Did you ever do to a woman what

. . . ." She broke her sentence off and swallowed.

". . .what Giles tried to do to me tonight?"

His expression didn’t change as his intense gaze fixed on hers. His rigid jaw twitched. "No," he answered firmly. "I didn’t. The kind of women I encountered didn’t have to be forced."

"Oh." With relief mixed with the sinking suspicion that he probably had his choice of women - and plenty of them - she glanced away.

"Does it bother you that I’m not so innocent?" His voice was oddly tender as his fingers lifted her chin, bringing her gaze back to his.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat closed. His nearness overwhelmed her. The faint scent of bay rum scent wafted to her. She took a deep breath. His mouth came closer, then with breath-taking tenderness, his lips touched hers. Flashes of hot electricity swept through her. In his touch, she felt security, comfort, and love. Beneath her closed eyelids, tears pressed, then slid down her cheeks. She loved this man. No matter who or what he was or had been, she loved him.

The kiss broke. With his fingers still under her chin, he wiped a tear off her cheek with his knuckle. "I think we’d better get back to camp."

Grateful that he understood that a tender kiss was all she needed right now, she nodded. Her confidence, her trust in him and herself had been restored. As his arm slipped around her waist and they walked wordlessly back toward the camp, she felt as if she’d come home.

Home. As she went back into her tent, she knew this was home, not some other far-away place. This is where she belonged. This land drew her, as if she’d always meant to be here. Here with Ryder.

Curled on her cot and holding the bright-petaled flower, she stared into the darkness and thought about the big man lying in a bedroll just outside. They somehow had reached a salient point in their relationship tonight. She just didn’t know how, why, or what kind of change had occurred. It just felt good. She loved him. She wanted him.

But not tonight. Not after Giles. Not with Giles so near, gagged and tied to a tree in the dark. She shivered, chills moving over her at the thought.

The sudden thud of hooves against the ground made her bolt upright. Her mouth went dry as her heart seemed to leap into her throat. Springing to her feet, she grabbed her wrapper and slipped it. The sounds came to a halt outside, followed by Ryder’s gruff, "What do you want?"

Snatching up the rifle, Dannie waited for a reply.

"I’m Rodgers and I’m after the woman and boy."

Her heart thudded so loud her ears roared, her blood turned to ice. Fear clutched her.

"What woman and boy?" Ryder asked.

"Danielle Jacobs and her brother, Parker," a gruff voice answered. "We know they’re here, and we’ve got the authorization to take them back to Kansas City. Whoever you are, you’re not gonna stop us."

"What’s going on, Dannie?" Parker asked, raising up and rubbing his eyes.

"Nothing. Lie back down and go to sleep!"

"Who’s Ryder’s talking to?"

"Hush! I don’t know."

"They’re Uncle Mason’s men, aren’t they?" Parker’s eyes widened.

"You’re not taking anybody anywhere." Ryder’s voice came from outside.

"Maybe this’ll convince you."

Dannie gasped with the sound of a hammer on a gun being pulled.

Outside, Ryder found himself staring into the barrel of a Colt.

"Jackson, see who’s in the tent," Rodgers ordered with a curt nod of his head.

As tense as a cornered cat, Ryder watched as a man swung off his mount and start toward the tent. He couldn’t let Dannie and Parker be found . . . .

Suddenly leaping toward Jackson, Ryder smashed his fist into his jaw, sending him reeling backward into the dirt. Then he dove to the ground as a gun cracked and a bullet spit dust and rock near him. Lying belly-down and clutching his gun, Ryder fired. Rodgers grabbed his shoulder and slumped forward, dropping his Colt.

"Wait! They’re married!"

Ryder looked toward the tent. Parker stood just outside the opening. Breathing heavily, he glanced toward Ryder, then back to the men.

"My sister’s married to him," Parker repeated, running his tongue across his lip and glancing toward Ryder, as if for confirmation. His eyes sparkled with hope and fear. "Aren’t ya, Ryder? Aren’t you married to Dannie?"

"Yeah. We’re married." He moved to his feet. "You can go back and tell that to Mason Gilmer since he has no hold on her now."

"Got proof of that?" Rodgers snarled, swaying in the saddle and holding his injured shoulder, blood dribbling between his spread fingers.

"We don’t need any proof!" Dannie, with rifle cocked and ready, stepped out of the tent.

A new flood of surprise surged through Ryder.

"I’d suggest every one of you leave here right now or he gets it in the belly!" She waved the gun toward Jackson as he, wiping his mouth, sat up. "Fact is I could get a couple more of you. Now I suggest you move out of here."

Rodgers’ angry gaze darted to the rifle in her hand, then back to her. "We’ll be back for ya, Miss Jacobs. I don’t take nobody’s word. I got a job to do an’ by damned, I ‘tend to do it. Don’t forget that." Jerking on the reins, he turned his mount about and rode off with the others behind him. Jackson climbed into the saddle and trotted after them.

Moving to his feet, Ryder watched the men disappear into the darkness, then turned toward Dannie. Still clutching the rifle, she dropped her hand and buried her face in her free hand. Her hair cascaded over her face and entire body seemed to expand with a deep gulp of air. Warmth and pride swept through him. "Are you all right, Dannie?" He moved to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her against him.

She heaved, then pulling away, smeared her fingers across her cheek and nodded. "Will this horrendous night ever end?"

"Now you gotta get married!" Parker exclaimed as if he’d settled the whole matter, swinging his arms out, his eyes wide and bright with hope. "They said they’d be back!"

Dannie lifted dark eyes, glittering with tears, to Ryder.

He ached to touch her. "Parker’s right. They’ll be back."

"And you don’t wanna go back to Kansas City, do you, Dannie?" Parker swung his arms out.

Irritation and fear rose within her. "Of course not!"

"Well, you know if those men come back, they’ll make us go with them."

"Oh, hush, Parker!" Glancing toward Ryder, she turned and disappeared into the tent.

"You are gonna marry her, aren’t you, Ryder?" Parker stepped close to him.

Ryder sucked in a deep breath. "I don’t think your sister wants to, Parker."

"If she said she would, would you marry her?" His tone brightened with hope.

Ryder ruffled the boy’s hair and chuckled. "I’ll have to give it some thought, buckaroo."

"It was a close call tonight, wasn’t it? And they said they’d be back, and Dannie, she don’t want to go back to Kansas City. I just know she doesn’t. I think she’ll marry you." With a short nod, he moved toward the tent. "I’ll see that she does." Turning, he stepped inside.

Dannie wanted to throttle her brother. Standing with fists folded into balls, she glared at him as he plunked down on his cot, crossed his arms, and looked up at her with smug self-satisfaction.

"Well, after tonight ya will marry him, won’t you?" he asked, matter-of-factly.

"I will not!"

"But you don’t wanna go back to be with Uncle Mason, do you?"

"Of course not!" She dropped to the cot and buried her face in her hands.

"Then marry Ryder!"

New anger burned her. "He hasn’t asked me!" She glowered at him. "Besides we don’t love each other! And I’d thank you to keep your ding-danged nose out of my business!"

"Well, you don’t have to stay married. Just stay married long enough so that those men will go back and tell Uncle Mason."

"I wouldn’t marry Ryder. He’s an outlaw--"

"No, he’s not! He’s a marshal!"

She jumped up and began to pace. "Well, a marshal with a reputation, then!"

"He took care of us back in Arkansas City and through this whole trip."

"He still has a bounty on his head as far as a lot of other people are concerned."

"He handles a gun real good and the marshal knows who he really is. If you married him, then all of us’d have this land. Ya’ll wouldn’t have to fight then."

"We’d be fighting worse!"

"Not if you loved each other."

"We don’t love each other!" Halting, she stared into her brother’s lifted face, still bright and smiling with hope.

"Yes, you do! That’s why you stay mad at him all time. You love him and he loves you."

"Parker, would you go to sleep and shut up!"

Outside the tent, Ryder choked back a chuckle and returned to his bedroll. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad married to Dannie after all. It would keep her uncle’s men away. They both would have ownership of the land. Besides it’d be nice to make love to her as his wife.

If she would let him near her.

****

To her relief, both Ryder and Giles were gone the next morning when Dannie awoke. Her torn dress, a crumpled reminder of her painful ordeal, lay in the corner of the tent and brought tears to her eyes. She truly liked the dress - now she hated it. Snatching it up, she marched from the tent, leaving Parker still asleep, and threw it on the low campfire. It sizzled, flames licked upward, and smoke rolled up from the garment. Taking her clothes with her, she strode down to the creek in the warm, golden morning, stripped, and walked into the cool water. Sinking to her shoulders, she shivered and began lathering herself with soap, trying to scrub away the painful memories. Then, unable to hold the sobs and tears back any longer, she let them come.

Reining Thunderbolt to a halt outside the tent, Ryder dismounted and studied the ravaging fire. Remnants of red fabric lay at the edge of the fire among the scattered coals. Dannie had burned the dress. Concerned for her, he went to the tent and glanced inside. Her cot was empty while Parker slept on, his rhythmic breathing filling the silence.

Turning, he noticed Outlaw still tethered to the tree, along with Landrush. A sense of relief moved through him. At least, she was close by. Probably down at the creek.

In long strides, he moved through the thicket and shoving aside a tree branch, halted.

With water sloshing around her shoulders, Dannie sobbed aloud, her face buried in her hands, the heart-wrenching sounds ripping his heart apart. A hard lump rose to his throat. His gut churned. Hot tears pressed against his eyes.

"Dannie." Speaking softly, he stepped into the clearing on the bank.

Jerking her head up, she blinked at him. Tears glistened against her red cheeks. Her chin quivered.

"Are you all right?"

Her brows furrowed, and sweeping a soggy strand of hair away from her face, she nodded and sank deeper into the water.

Squatting down, he sat on his heels and rested a forearm across his knee. "I see you burned the dress." He spoke carefully, wishing he could go to her, hold her, comfort her.

She nodded and wiped her hand across her cheek. "I hate it."

"Although I understand why you burned it, the dress wasn’t at fault with what Giles tried to do. You’re not at fault either. The fault is with Giles."

"What did you do with him?" She wiped at the other cheek.

"Took him to the marshal. He’s locked up and the marshal wants to talk to you as soon as you’re up to it."

"I don’t know--"

"Not right away."

"People . . .what will they say? They’ll think bad of me . . . "

"No, they won’t, Dannie. No woman has the power to overcome a man. What he did is unforgivable."

"Maybe I led him on. I . . . I don’t think I did, but maybe . . . ." She shrugged.

"I doubt that, Dannie. He had it all planned when he left the dance. I figured as much. That’s why I wasn’t far behind."

A little, appreciative smile touched her lips.

Pain stabbed his heart. He stood. "I want to talk to you, Dannie."

Sniffing aloud, she again wiped at her face. "If you’ll turn your back, I’ll get out."

With a grin, he shrugged. The urge to say something smart to lighten up the situation came to him, but realizing how vulnerable she was right now, held it back. Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned away from her.

Hearing the splash of water and imagining her long, lithe body, dripping wet as she emerged from the creek, Ryder felt his body harden. Grinding his teeth and berating himself for his lack of control, he sat down on a log.

Around this woman his body acted like that of an adolescent looking at girlie pictures, the kind that hung in saloons and whorehouses. No woman had ever affected him like this.

"Ryder."

Turning, he looked up at her. Clad in baggy britches and shirt and with her hair wound up and pinned on her head, she looked like a young tomboy. Except for those wide, expressive eyes, the delicate lines of her face, and long slender neck.

"What did you want to talk about?" She sank beside him on the log.

The soapy-clean smell of her filled his nostrils. Reaching out, he pushed aside a strand of hair from her ear and took a deep breath. "Marry me, Dannie."

She gaped at him, her liquid eyes wide under long lashes. "What?"

With a quick shrug of his shoulders and a sheepish grin, he repeated, "I want you to marry me."

Her look of surprise hardened into defiance. "No, I can’t."

Damn! He wasn’t pulling this off very well at all. "It doesn’t have to be permanent. As soon as your uncle’s men get off your back, we’ll have it annulled, if that’s what you want. Afterwards, it’ll be as if we were never married at all."

"As long as there’s no consummation of the marriage." Her eyes took on a shadowed hue.

He sucked in a long breath. "There won’t be, will there?" His words sounded both doubtful and hopeful.

Suddenly rising, she looked down at him and moved away. "No, I don’t want you doing any favors for me."

"I want to do this for you, Dannie." Rising, he stood behind her. The urge to take her into his arms raced through him and he clutched his fists in an effort to smother it. Would he have the strength to keep his hands off her? "Besides, it’d be respectable with us both living on the same land."

"I don’t think so, Ryder." Turning, she looked up into his eyes.

"It’ll keep you safe from your uncle." He clutched her shoulders. "That’s what you want, isn’t it? To keep him from hauling you back? And you know they’ll come back after you."

She nodded.

"Then why not?"

Her wide, speculative gaze locked with his. "Marriage is something we shouldn’t take lightly. It’s supposed to mean commitment. And we don’t love each other."

"Maybe if we gave it enough time . . . ."

She shook her head. "How can you do this for me? I mean, you have nothing to gain and I have everything."

He let a little smile move across his face. His grip on her shoulders tightened. "Because I care what happens to you. Remember I have a lot of time and energy invested in you."

With dancing eyes, she gazed up at him. She felt rigid under his hands.

"You’re willing to do this for me and for Parker?"

He nodded. "Just say the word and we’ll start making arrangements."

Dannie swallowed a hard lump and fought the tears that welled up. She couldn’t believe this man was willing to go to such lengths for her. She never thought anyone could care so much. "If that’s what you want." She choked on another lump.

A lopsided grin lifted one corner of his mouth. "No consummation, huh?" He’d have to pray long and hard for the strength to keep his hands off her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Danielle Ryder.

Dannie regarded the signature at the bottom of the marriage certificate, hardly believing what she’d just scrawled.

. . . Danielle Jacobs and Colin Ryder united in holy matrimony. . . .

Those words on the certificate even rang stranger. Holy matrimony. What a mockery she and Ryder made of those words! Their union was nothing more than a facade, a charade to get her uncle off her trail.

And Parker’s. Today, hardly two weeks since Ryder had asked her, she hadn’t married him for selfish reasons only. She’d taken this step for her brother’s benefit, too.

But what did it benefit Ryder? Did he think the dispute over the land would now be settled and he would become the rightful owner?

Of course, he did. He now owned as much of the land as she.

With the thought unsettling her a bit, she looked up at his face as he bent over the document and signed his signature beside hers.

Colin Ryder. Her husband. The outlaw. The lawman. The man she married for convenience. Not for love.

Or did she?

Lifting his gaze, he sent her a quick, confident smile. His black eyes smoldered.

"That should do it," the pastor said, retrieving the document, folding it, and handing it to Ryder. He offered his hand, and smiling from ear to ear, added, "Congratulations. I wish you both all the happiness in the world."

Dannie’s face scalded with his words. She and Ryder had deceived him, too, just as they had Ty and Sadie Warren, who had stood up for them. No one knew the real reason for their marriage.

"Oh, Dannie! I’m so happy for you!" Sadie grabbed Dannie and hugged her close. "What a looker you got, too!" She bent close and whispered in her ear, "Any woman would be glad to let him eat in her bed!"

Her face flaming at Sadie’s risqué remark, Dannie laughed gently. What would Sadie think if she knew that she, Dannie, and Ryder would never share a bed?

"The ring is beautiful." Catching Dannie’s hand and lifting it, Sadie inspected the small wedding band. "Your husband has good taste."

Fighting the urge to hide her hand, Dannie again laughed. The memory of how surprised she was when he had slipped the ring on her finger during the ceremony surged over her. She hadn’t expected a ring. She didn’t think he cared enough to give her one. Ryder seemed to be full of surprises. "Yes, I guess he does, doesn’t he?"

"Oh, Dannie! I’m glad you married Ryder!" Parker suddenly threw his arms around her.

Returning his hug, she wished she could say she was, too.

"Now let’s eat, dance, and be merry!" Ty shouted, lifting a glass of wine high and signaling to the motley crew of musicians to start. Fiddle, guitar, and banjo music filled the air.

Dannie wanted nothing more than to run and hide. People, their expectant faces turned on her and Ryder, swarmed the Warrens’ brightly decorated living room. The wedding had gotten out of control from the time she and Ryder asked Sadie and Ty to stand up for them. Before Dannie could protest, Sadie organized the ceremony, insisted on having it in her house, and she’d invited the entire countryside. She nor Ryder knew some of the people and assumed they were distant neighbors. It turned out to be a big gala affair.

"I’m glad you married her, Ryder!" Parker said with laughter in his tone as he released Dannie and looked up at Ryder with eyes shining with admiration.

Ryder chuckled. "So am I, buckaroo."

Dannie wondered if he meant it.

Parker dashed off, leaving her standing alone with her new husband. Sudden shyness and self-consciousness swept over her as she gazed into his face. His eyes glinted with passion. She felt her own body stir with warmth.

"Come on, Ryder!" Ty called above the music and din of voices. "You and Dannie lead out!"

Glancing about, Dannie was dismayed to see that they were the center of attention.

"Come on, Mrs. Ryder. We have to put on a good front," Ryder muttered in her ear, slipping his arm around her and swinging her onto the floor.

Hearing him call her Mrs. Ryder and with the warmth of his breath against her neck, she shivered.

Mrs. Ryder. Mrs. Colin Ryder.

"Are you cold?" His gaze darted down her, noting for the hundredth time the simple wedding dress and long, flowing veil she wore. She looked like a vision in white. Tiny ringlets of hair floated around her glowing face. Sadie, in her usual take-charge way, had made the dress in record time after discreetly finding out what Dannie preferred in a gown. He wondered if Dannie appreciated or hated the way Sadie had taken over. For himself, he rather liked it. Having such a big shindig and being united by a preacher somehow solidified their vows, more so than just going before a judge in town. Maybe this marriage would work after all. He dared hope.

She shook her head in response to his question as the floor around them became crowded with other couples.

"You know after a respectable period of time, we’re supposed to slip out." Whispering, he pulled her tighter against him, again bemoaning the fact that their honeymoon wouldn’t be a night spent in each other’s arms.

Or would it?

"In the meantime, we have to put up a front, don’t we?" she murmured.

Hearing the reservation in her tone, he felt some of his merriment evaporate, and his hope deflate. "Yeah, I guess we do."

The party seemed to go on forever as Dannie and Ryder danced the hours away and received gifts and congratulations. Whiskey and wine flowed. Never lacking for a partner, she was growing tired and longed for a nice warm bath and bed. The burden of giving the appearance of a nervous, though happy, bride was growing wearisome.

Ryder seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, imbibing in drink a little too much to suit her. However, his being a new groom with no prospect of consummating his marriage would make any man drown his sorrow in drink. Watching him swing an older woman around the floor, Dannie sipped her punch and eyed him with a mixture of emotion. She again wondered why he would marry her for her sake. What was his motive? The land? Did he really care for her? Or most ludicrous of all, did he love her?

Deciding such an idea was out of the question, she brushed the thought from her mind and stiffened as he left his partner and wove his way through the guests toward her. He cut a stately and dynamic figure clad in a black cutaway suit with snow-white shirt and tie. The sly, wistful glances of the women toward him from beneath lowered lashes couldn’t be missed. As always, no matter how hard she tried whenever he was near, smooth warm liquid glided through her as he halted and gazed down at her.

"I think it’s time we made our get-away, Mrs. Ryder."

Embarrassed and wrinkling her nose at the smell of whiskey floating around him like cheap cologne, she glanced about them. Some distance away, Sadie watched them with an amused smile on her face. It was as if she knew what Ryder told her. "Where are we going?"

He grinned down at her, those bottomless eyes of black, the faint the fragrance of bay rum mingled with the odor of the liquor. "Our camp. Unless you have other ideas."

"No . . . no, I don’t." With another wave of chagrin, she again glanced toward Sadie, who began making her way toward them.

"We have keep up with the pretense, Dannie."

"I know!"

"Parker’s spending the night here with us, Dannie," Sadie announced as she swept up to them, smiling from ear to ear. "I know why you two have your heads together. But before you get away . . ." She fumbled with the belt of her gown. "Here." She pressed a couple of dollars and a key into Ryder’s hand. "This is from Ty and me. The Noble Hotel in Guthrie is expecting you. Room 25."

Dannie flushed. "Oh, we couldn’t--"

"Nonsense!" Sadie brushed her off. "It’s already done. Besides, I couldn’t bear to let you spend your wedding night in that tent. Now off with you! Scat!" Waving her hands, she shooed them toward the kitchen. "Out!"

With a deep chuckle, as if he was getting into the spirit of things, Ryder grabbed Dannie’s hand and pulled her through the kitchen and out the back door. They stopped short as showers of rice and cheers greeted them. Ducking and thinking their get-away wasn’t so secret, she let Ryder pull her into the brightly decorated buckboard and rode off into the night, with congratulatory shouts ringing after them.

The warm air closed around them. Crickets chirped and a dove cooed. Suddenly very uncomfortable, as if this man sitting next to her were a complete stranger, Dannie inched away from him and glanced toward the hills and valleys, laced in dark shadows.

"We don’t have to go to the hotel," he said quietly.

She dared a quick glance at him. His nearness, his fragrance made her quiver inside. "They’d find out we didn’t show up, don’t you think?"

He chuckled. "All they’d think is that we couldn’t wait to get to the hotel. That’s all."

Dannie flushed hotly at the implication of his words. "Well, we can’t let them think that, can we?"

He shrugged and tugged at his tie, yanking it loose. "They’ll know . . . or at least think they know what we did anyhow. Doesn’t matter where we are, after all, we’re newlyweds."

Her face flamed hotter. "They’re laughing at us."

"I doubt that." His soft gaze met hers in the pale moonlight. "I suspect the men are envying me right now, wishing they were in my place."

Tilting her chin, she forced her gaze off his. "I suspect the women think the same about me."

"I promise I won’t touch you. Unless you ask me to."

Praying that she would have the willpower to resist him, she managed a quick, nervous smile.

The tin cans and shoes tied to the back of the wagon rattled and banged loudly as they rode into Guthrie. So mortified she wanted to be swallowed up in a hole, Dannie had asked him to remove the noisemakers before they came into town, but, with a grin, he refused. She wondered why not. To embarrass her? Or was he a little too drunk to care? Or maybe he was just caught up in the excitement of the celebration. Whatever the reason, they had remained tied to the back of the buckboard. Now, the few people on the streets stopped and gaped with knowing smiles sliding across their faces. A few yelled congratulations, making her body tremble with scalding heat.

Everyone knew - rather thought they knew - what she and Ryder would do tonight.

Ryder chuckled. Did she detect a hint of chagrin in his laughter? The self-controlled, confident Colin Ryder embarrassed, too?

He handed her down from the wagon, and they made their way into the vacant lobby. Embarrassment swept through her when the clerk behind the desk grinned and winked at Ryder as they hurried up the stairs. Did she really see a light flush creep across Ryder’s face?

The room was small with a large rosewood bed and two over-sized windows covered with heavy damask. A copper tub stood behind a screen while a bureau, washstand, and a couple of Victorian chairs sat about the rest of the room. Light from a lone lantern bathed the room in a soft glow.

As the door closed behind them, Dannie felt her heart squeeze with nervousness and overwhelming shyness. She had never been in such close, intimate quarters alone with a man before. Especially one as tempting as Ryder.

Pulling her gaze off him, she noticed a silk gown spread across the counterpane, along with a bar of scented soap and a pair of house slippers. A note was pinned to the gown.

Feeling another rush of embarrassment and trying to keep from looking at Ryder, she lifted the note and read: Extra clothes in the armoire. Enjoy. Love, Sadie and Ty.

Ryder gave a low, rumbling chuckle over her shoulder. "Sadie thinks of everything, doesn’t she?" He tossed his hat on the bed beside the dainty gown and yanked off his tie.

Impatient with the warmth that kept racing over her, she nodded, unable to trust her voice. Still, the idea of climbing into a soft gown and bed made trills of excitement shoot through her. It’d been so long. Her gaze moved to the copper tub, partially concealed by the screen. And oh, for a nice warm bath in a real tub!

"It looks inviting, doesn’t it?" he asked, startling her.

She looked up to see his gaze fixed on the tub.

Slowly, he turned toward her. His eyes smoldered with tenderness. "Especially if we shared it."

Why couldn’t she breathe? She cleared her throat. "It’s a nice room." She moved away from him, pretending to inspect every detail of the wall covering.

"I hear this hotel is one of the best in Guthrie."

Hearing a rustle of clothing behind her, she turned. He was slipping off the suspenders, followed with his shirt. Her breathing suddenly got heavier. Everything within her stilled. She felt as if she was seeing him stripped of a shirt for the first time. The muscles across his shoulders and chest rolled with each movement, powerful and graceful, like those of a well-conditioned stallion. Black, fine hair shadowed his chest and meandered into a line down his hard stomach and disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Spellbound, she couldn’t pull her eyes off him.

He grinned, flashing white teeth, and stepped in front of her as if he knew how he affected her. Her heart hammered against her ribs as he put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face closer to his.

"Are you sure you want to remain celibate, Danielle?" he muttered, his tone low and husky.

Unable to speak, she swallowed, mesmerized by those bottomless black eyes. Then as if taking her silence for consent, he bent his head and gently touched her lips with his. She knew that he was asking for permission to go further. Unable to stop herself, only basking in the sudden rise of her senses, she leaned into his kiss and pulled her arms around his neck. His tongue flicked across her lips, then slipped between them, delving deep, igniting every nerve in her body into flames.

His hands moved restlessly across her back, over the curves of her hips, lingering, touching, as if familiarizing himself with the softness, the flesh of her. He shifted his hips, aligning his body with hers so that they melded perfectly together. She felt the thudding of his heart and heard his heavy breathing. Or was it her own? It seemed as if they breathed and moved as one.

His hand moved to her breast and cupped it. Her insides flamed with its gentle caress.

The touch of his fingers at the back of her dress, working the buttons loose, brought reality back to her with a shatter. Did he love her? Had he married her just to get her into bed? The land? He had yet to even hint that he loved her. He probably thought she owed him a roll in the bed for giving her his name so that Uncle Mason’s men would have no claim on her.

Suddenly releasing her, he looked down at her, his eyes hinting of controlled anger, his tight jaw clenched. "I’ll get another room."

His abrupt swing of mood startled her. Gaping up at him she muttered, hardly realizing what she was saying, "What will the clerk think? What if Sadie finds out?"

"Who the hell cares?" He turned and jerked up his shirt and thrust his arms into it.

Hurt and mortified, she stood watching him, unsure of what to say or what to do.

With a long, resigned sigh, he turned and ran his hand through his hair. "I’m sorry. I know what our agreement is. I’ll sleep in the damned tub." Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a flask of whiskey and uncorked it. Putting it against his lips, he drank and moved toward the tub.

****

Sleep didn’t come easily for Dannie until the wee hours of the morning. Every nerve in her was tuned to Ryder uncomfortably sprawled in the copper tub, a pillow under his head, his long legs thrown over each side of it. She heard his every move. He once climbed out and strode to one of the windows and jerked the drape open. For what seemed like hours, he stood there, gazing into the night, the soft moonlight reflecting against his bare shoulders.

She stirred at last. "Ryder."

Stiffening, he turned toward her and waited for her to speak. Shadows played across his tense face.

Nervous, she raised up in bed, pulling the covers around her. "You can sleep on the other side of the bed."

His body heaved as if expelling air. "But not touch, huh?"

"That’s the--"

"I know. The agreement." He moved away from the window. "Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll sleep in the tub and drink myself to sleep. You’ll be safer that way."

Dawn broke with Ryder slumped in a chair, legs stretched in front of him, watching Dannie sleep. His insides churned with doubt, questions, and love for this woman. Her long, curved lashes made crescents against her cheeks and her full mouth puckered slightly. He wondered what she was dreaming.

No doubt he loved this woman. His heart ached with the thought that she didn’t love him. Her feelings for him were nothing more than physical attraction, for her kisses and the way her body moved against his told him she wanted him - just as much as he wanted her. She just had more willpower than he. Sometimes it was all he could do to keep his hands off her and not tell her he loved her.

He cursed himself for ever agreeing to such an asinine plan. For putting himself through this torture.

She stirred and rolled to her back. Her shoulders, bared by the loose straps of the gown, looked soft and white against the paleness. Her breasts rose high and full under her gown, straining against the thin cotton, the nipples taut and visible. A strand of auburn-gold hair clung to her cheek.

Struggling for breath and rising, Ryder moved to the bedside, gazed down at her, his heart filling with love. Had he truly made a mistake by entering into such a foolhardy agreement with her? She was his wife and he didn’t dare touch her. He wouldn’t touch her until she wanted him to, if she ever did.

Gently he brushed the hair off her face. Her skin felt warm and soft. A knot tightened in his stomach. His body ached for the want of her, yet he couldn’t do it. When he took a woman to bed, his wife or not, he wanted her to be willing. He wasn’t another Wilson Giles.

With a stir of anger and frustration, he gulped down the last of the whiskey.

Turning abruptly, he threw the flask into a chair, jerked his shirt off the bedpost and yanked it on, then his jacket. He wouldn’t be in the room when she awoke. He wondered if Candy Baker would see him this morning. Probably. At least she would ease his body’s intense need.

But bounding down the stairs, he knew he wouldn’t visit Candy. He was a married man. Regardless of Dannie’s feelings for him, he could never be unfaithful to her. Not as long as they were married. Anyhow, Dannie was the only woman he wanted. He’d just get some breakfast somewhere.

****

To Dannie’s dismay, her marriage to Ryder served only to increase the tension between them. It was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. For days after their wedding, they had politely avoided each other, speaking only when necessary as they each went about their work at the camp. Much to Dannie’s chagrin, he sometimes disappeared in the evenings and stayed gone for hours. She wondered but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking if he was spending time with his friend, Candy. It was unbearable to think her husband’s needs were being met by a lady-of-the-evening. Yet, she had to keep reminding herself that their marriage wasn’t really a marriage, no matter how much she wanted and loved him. It was one of convenience - at least for her. She still wondered why he married her.

The frame of the house was slowly rising as neighbors for miles around came and helped build it. Women often came at noon bringing basket lunches. The shouts and laughter of children vibrated against the hills, bringing a festive air to the house-raising.

Parker always tried to intercede for her and Ryder and was puzzled as to why they didn’t get along. Still, he and Ryder remained the best of friends as they hunted, fished, and rode horses together. Often she heard their voices late into the night and wondered what in the world a thirteen-year-old and a grown man had to talk about so much. Parker frequently played his harmonica and whittled with the knife Ryder had given him. For the most part, their lives were busy and normal for people living in a brand new land - except for their constant watch for the return of Uncle Mason’s men.

They had promised they’d be back for her, and she wondered why they were so slow about it. The wait kept her and Parker, and Ryder, on edge. They kept their guns ready and every time a rider appeared on a distant hill, they made ready to shoot. Dannie sometimes wondered if the strain was worth the effort of trying to avoid her uncle.

Ryder, too, stayed tense for the return of Mason Gilmer’s henchmen and understood how it must be affecting Dannie. Trying to banish her out of his mind and heart, he sometimes left in the evenings, although never wandering far because of his concern for Dannie’s and Parker’s safety. Occasionally he went to the Warren’s and chatted with them, once confiding to Ty about Gilmer’s men. He told him the thugs were harassing him and Dannie and asked if he, Ty, would be kind enough to drop by whenever he was close by just to make sure everything was all right. Most of the time, he rode Thunderbolt hard or just went up the creek to be alone and ponder the future, just as he did this evening.

He’d begun to think he made a mistake to marry Dannie. At least before their marriage, they spoke to each other. Now, the tension between them was so strained they only spoke when necessary, as if any conversation between them might lead to a deeper intimacy. Yet he didn’t miss the glances she threw him, and it certainly hadn’t diminished his desire for her. And that was what was wrong. The only thing they shared was his last name.

The click of a hammer being pulled back on a gun startled him. He stiffened in the saddle.

"Don’t move, Ryder," a raw voice ordered, "or you’re a dead man where you sit."

Recognizing the voice, he sucked in a long, deep breath. "What do you want, Giles?"

"To repay you for the whipping you gave me . . . ."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dannie lay wide awake, staring at the canvas above her. The light from the pale moon glowed through the slits in the flap as a breeze rippled across the tent. Although trying to force herself to relax and sleep, she felt as if her entire body was tied in knots, her ears tuned to every outside sound, listening for Ryder’s return. It had been hours since he rode toward town.

She had no idea where he’d gone late this evening after supper. He had mounted his horse and rode off, leaving her with Parker and Peter who’d spent the day with them. A little while later Ty had come for Peter and it was agreed that Parker would spend the night with the Warrens.

She’d struggled with herself about letting him go, but in the end decided she wouldn’t let the threat of Uncle Mason’s henchmen run their lives and keep her and Parker in fear of doing the things normal people did.

Now, she began to wonder if she did the right thing. After all, Ryder still hadn’t come home. The clock on the chair beside her cot said it was close to ten thirty.

Where was he? In Candy Baker’s bed?

With the thought burning through her, she flipped to her side. Was he the kind of man to be unfaithful to his wife even though their marriage wasn’t exactly ideal?

Why not? After all, he had the physical needs of a healthy man, and she certainly wasn’t meeting them. Apparently Candy had seen to his needs ever since he met her.

The distant sound of hooves against the hard ground outside made her bolt upright. Sitting stone still, she listened, hearing only the hard thump of her own heart. It came again. The sound was of one horse in no hurry, its gait slow and easy, a rock being kicked aside. Deciding that whoever it was posed no threat to her, she rose, put on her wrapper, slipped the derringer in its pocket, and reached for the rifle.

At first the horse and man slumped low in the saddle looked to be nothing more than black silhouettes against the pale moon glow. Then with the recognition of Thunderbolt and Ryder, she laid the gun aside and, picking up a fold of her robe, ran through the tall grass toward him. Alarm rose up within her like a sickening bile as Ryder slid and fell to the ground with a thump. He moaned.

"Ryder!" Fear choked her. "Ryder!"

Dropping to her knees beside him, she lifted his head in her arms. Something sticky warmed her hand and with horror, she realized he was bleeding. Blood seeped through his dirty, torn shirt. His face was bruised and bleeding, as well.

Alarm brought hot tears to her eyes. "Ryder! Ryder!" Brushing aside a lock of hair from his forehead, she began to rock, hardly aware that the sobs she heard were her own.

His eyelids fluttered. Another moan escaped his lips.

"Ryder!" Her voice was breathless. She sniffed, realizing her tears were falling on him, mixing with his blood. "What happened?"

Only another moan answered her.

Regaining her senses, she knew she had to get control of her panic and do something. "I’ll be right back, Ryder."

Laying his head down as gently as she could, she rose and ran into the tent for strips of rags. She stoked up the fire, set a bucket of water on it, and with a lit lantern, returned to Ryder.

"Ryder?" Peering into his face, she didn’t know whether she expected to find him alive or not. His eyes fluttered, then opened. They looked up at her through a pain-dulled veil.

She sniffed away a threat of tears. "Can you walk? I’ve got to get you inside on the cot where I can tend to you."

His eyes closed and for a panicky moment Dannie thought he’d lapsed into unconsciousness. Then they again fluttered. His mouth opened as if he tried to speak, then closed.

"Come on, let me help you stand. Do you think you can make it?"

With a heart-wrenching groan, he helped her lift him to his feet, and as he leaned on her, they staggered into the tent. With his arm wrapped around his middle, he dropped to the bed, and she lit the lantern.

"What happened, Ryder?" Trying to keep from hurting him any more, she wiped the blood off his face. Her heart pounded as if she’d run for miles.

"Men . . . ambushed me . . . ." He sucked in a deep breath, and from pain-dulled eyes looked up at her.

Hot tears spilled onto her cheeks again. She continued to wipe away the blood, revealing the cuts and bruises. Her heart ached as if it’d never ached before. "Who were they?"

His gaze met hers. "D . . . Don’t know."

"A posse?"

"Don’t think so."

"Bounty hunters?"

". . .no."

She gently pulled away his shirt, exposing the gaping wounds. He flinched with each move and she, in turn, gritted her teeth with the pain of hurting him.

"I’ve got to get these wounds sterilized."

". . . whiskey . . . in my saddlebag." Clutching his side, he rolled, his brows furrowed.

Concentrating only on getting this man she loved well, Dannie hurried from the tent, retrieved the whiskey and rags that were boiling in the water on the fire. Carrying the steaming cloths on a stick, she returned to the tent.

Ryder lay so still she at first, with a stab of panic, thought he no longer breathed. Dropping the cloths on the trunk nearby, she fell to her knees beside him.

"Ryder!" She brushed her fingers along the side of his head, pushing back his unruly hair. "Ryder." Another surge of tears filled her as she looked into his still face.

What if he died?

As if the unexpected thought snapped her back to reality, she lifted one of the rags, gingerly wrung it out, and began washing his face.

As she bathed him, she noticed, with great relief, that once the blood was removed, his wounds didn’t appear nearly as serious as she first thought. He occasionally moaned, flinched, and rolled his head against the pillow.

"I’m sorry, Ryder. I don’t want to hurt you." Her voice quivered.

His eyes fluttered open, and he gazed up at her. "It’s about time you came to my rescue." He gave a broken chuckle.

She laughed softly, one of relief, and picked up a strip of cloth. "I guess it is time for me to pay you back, huh? Do you think you can help me get you bandaged?"

"Yeah . . . ." His voice broke as he made an effort to sit up.

"Oh, I’m sorry."

"I’ll be sore for a couple of days." He managed another chuckle, as if he was embarrassed by his helplessness. Groaning, he lifted himself into a sitting position as she began wrapping the cloth around his body.

Her gaze moved to his, and seeing the intensity of his eyes, now clearer and not so pain-filled, she suddenly became aware of how close they were. The leathery, spicy smell of him filled her nostrils. He was no longer a patient in need of medical attention, but a man of incredible magnetism.

Spellbound, she couldn’t take her gaze off his. "If you think you need some pain-killer, I’ll go to Guthrie--"

"Dannie." He cupped the side of her face. His gaze seemed to scorch her to her inner core. Her awareness of him became agonizing, the provocative way an errant strand of hair fell against his forehead, his tight, though battered jaw, and how his eyes, now brighter, glittered with something suggestive that sent tingles up her spine, through her body, down to her toes. A pleasant heaviness settled in her lower belly. She recognized the signs. Her body was getting ready for his.

"The only pain-killer I need, Mrs. Ryder, is you."

His words set her on fire. Had his grip on her arm not deterred her, she would have fled the tent. Instead, she couldn’t move, bound by his intense gaze, his incredible pull on her.

"We can’t . . . we’re not supposed . . . . What I mean is . . . ." She sounded as if she’d been running hard for miles.

"Is what, Dannie?"

His voice, rich and deep, seemed to touch every nerve in her body.

"We’re married, Dannie."

"You’re hurting--"

"A little. After a little rest, I’ll be up and about." His black eyes burned with runaway passion.

"Our agreement--"

"To hell with the agreement. You’re my wife. You know you want me as badly as I want you." His voice was low, though gruff.

She pulled back a bit, feeling the heat of him. "I can’t hurt you any more than what--"

"You won’t hurt me, Danielle, and I’ll be gentle." His fingertips glided along her chin.

With his other hand, he cradled the back of her head and pulled her face close to his. She couldn’t breathe, yet her body seemed to pulsate with desire as she gazed into his blue-black eyes. The air between them throbbed with fire. She felt helpless, as if she’d melted into clay. Her heart seemed as if it was about to burst and every nerve in her body ached with the need to become one with him.

"You know as well as I do that our charade couldn’t last long." His fingers tangled in her hair, his mouth inching toward hers.

The contact was electrifying and startling. As if she’d never felt the taste of his lips before, she let the kiss deepen. His tongue slipped between her lips and probed, stroking deeply. Wild sensations of desire spiraled through her with such force she instinctively leaned into him. She heard his deep intake of breath as his arm wrapped around her, and with mouths still locked, he lay back on the bed, pulling her on top of him.

His body was searing, throbbing, hard under hers as he deepened the kiss. Her own tongue responded to his as her hand began to stray, gliding down his thick, muscular neck, across his shoulder and chest.

He groaned, suddenly bringing Dannie to reality. She pulled her mouth away from his just enough to speak, although their lips still touched. "Are you hurting?" She struggled for breath, her entire body blazing with something heavy and aching.

"Not enough to keep me from loving you." His mouth claimed hers, his hand stroking over her back, to her hip where it lingered, then between them to the belt of her robe. He tugged, as he made a steamy trail of kisses across her face and down her neck. He pulled away the silk covering her shoulders.

Arching against him, she exposed her neck to him, and gasped with the warmth of his mouth against the hollow at the base of her throat. Shifting, she let her own hands splay across his chest. They began roaming, touching, exploring with heightened sensitivity. He felt hot and slick under her fingertips as he worked the robe off her shoulders and down her arms. Her hand moved lower.

His gentle kisses left trails of heat across her shoulders and her upper arm. Losing all sense of reservation, caught up in the myriad of sensations he wrenched from her, she tasted and nibbled his ear, his neck, his face, and eyes.

The hardness of his body, hot and demanding against her own, didn’t shock her. It seemed natural and made her feel wanton and desirable as she moved against him.

He moaned and tugged her gown upward over her head, letting it drop to the ground. Except for her pantalets, she lay naked against him.

With agonizing slowness and sensuality, his hand glided across her back as he pulled slightly away from her. His eyes blazed. His face, slack with passion, reflected the flickering lantern light.

"Danielle . . ." His words broke. "I think we can make this work, don’t you?"

"Yes! Yes!" Clasping his head between her hands, she claimed his mouth with her own, burying her tongue deep into his moist sweetness.

Sliding his hand between their bodies, he caught the tie of her pantalets and pulled, loosening them. Then he slowly worked them over her hips, and she, lost in deep euphoria, shifted, allowing him to push them to her knees. As if maneuvered by another force, she lifted herself off him just enough to bend her legs and push them completely off.

As she again lowered herself over him, his mouth caught her breast, his tongue brushing across its peak. She gasped with the myriad of new sensations that tumbled through her. Her hand tunneled into his hair and pushed his head closer to her.

He emitted an agonizing groan. Thinking she’d hurt him, she strained away from him. He released her breast, his passion-filled gaze meeting hers.

"I hurt you . . . ."

"No." He shook his head slightly, then cupping her breast in his hand, brought it back into his mouth, letting his tongue caress the nipple. Another explosion of sensations ricocheted through her, making her quiver, making her want to bring him to the same height of passion as he did her. Boldly, she dropped her hand to the swell in his pants and caressed.

Through her own raging emotions, she heard his sudden, deep intake of breath. His hand slipped between them until it contacted hers, then with practiced ease, guided her fingers to the buttons.

Impatient with her lack of experience, she worked them open one by one as his own warm hand covered hers. Then he led her hand to free his turgid length. It felt hot, swollen, and fascinating.

Then as if by no will of her own, as if one bundle of burning passion, she sat up. His dark gaze flickered over her, lingering on her face, then dropping to her breasts and down her hips and long legs.

Ryder thought he’d never seen such an exquisite piece of art. Incredibly long legs were attached to a curvaceous body of perfect proportion, glowing against the dim lantern light. Thinking it wasn’t possible, he was surprised to feel his body harden even more.

Gritting his teeth against the pain shooting through him, he lifted his own body and stripped off the boots, trousers and under-drawers. He moved with deliberate sensuality, knowing she was studying him with passion glazed eyes, wanting her to know and touch every inch of his body. Then he stood before her, memorizing every detail and line of her. Catching her hand, he pulled her to her feet and melded her against him, burying his face in her neck, letting his hands roam over her, relishing the feel of her, aligning his body with hers.

She let out a ragged gasp. Her body shook under his hands. He pressed himself against her, letting their bodies move in rhythmic motion. Her touches against his back, shoulders, and hips sent raw desire through him until he thought he’d explode. Grinding his teeth against the urge to throw her on the bed and take her, he let his lips travel over her shoulders as his hand slipped between her thighs and stroked.

A cry escaped her. Then he felt her fingers curl around his arousal and massaged, bringing him to the edge of control.

Forgetting the pain shooting through his body, he lowered her gently onto the mattress, and putting his knee between her legs, spread them as he hovered over her. He kissed his way up from her flat stomach, her ribcage to each of her breasts, then to her mouth as her gentle strokes kept his body in flames. Her caresses were soft, hesitant, then bold and exploratory, even touching him where he hadn’t expected. Touches that brought incredible pleasure to him.

Moving his hand between them, he slipped his fingers into the warm, moist spot between her thighs and began stroking lightly. She moaned and writhed under him, drawing her leg upward. Her hand groped until it found his swollen manhood.

Lost to the wonder of their lovemaking, he kissed and tasted, gradually working his fingers into her body, gently caressing until she cried out. Releasing her, he caught her head between his hands and kissed her.

"I don’t want to hurt you," he muttered hoarsely.

With wide, liquid eyes, she fixed her gaze on his. "This is not what’s supposed to happen." She could hardly speak.

"It’s something we both wanted, isn’t it?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Surprised at the passion in her voice, he lowered his mouth to hers, and moved over her, spreading her thighs farther apart. Slowly, he made short, gentle thrusts as he entered her until she wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him.

With a short jab, he broke into her, then immediately withdrew with her low cry of pain and the feel of warm moistness. "I’m sorry," he muttered.

"I . . . I’m fine. Don’t . . . don’t stop."

Gritting his teeth in supreme effort to bring his body under control, he kissed and nibbled across her face, then again tried. She whimpered under him, then began moving in rhythm to his thrusts.

Locked to the woman he loved, Ryder felt as if he’d never known love before. She’d given him her all with surprising unabashed, yet passionate, innocence. His heart sang with joy. Yes, they could make this union work after all.

Danielle Ryder. His lover. His wife.

Even the soreness of his body couldn’t hinder his giving her his all.

****

Much later Dannie awoke with a start. Blinking against the pale light, she at first wondered where she was, then gradually became aware that she lay curled against Ryder, her head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. The warmth he emitted felt like a hot stove, and his soft breathing told her he was asleep.

Realizing they both were stark naked under a light blanket, she felt sudden intense embarrassment and shyness overwhelm her. How could she have done some of the things she did with him? How could she have been so wanton? So bold? So uninhibited that she let him have his way with her until he left no part of her body untouched or unkissed?

Her face flamed at the memory. What must he think of her now? That she was no better than Candy Baker? Nothing but a whore?

Nice women didn’t do such things, did they? Nice women didn’t want their husbands as she did hers, did they? Didn’t they just endure such acts just to please their husbands? Did they take no pleasure in touching, tasting, smelling, and hearing the sounds of their husbands as they made love to them? Didn’t they enjoy getting to know their husbands’ bodies as intimately as they knew their own?

Well, she must be like Candy Baker then, for she enjoyed it to the fullest. She hadn’t dreamed making love to a man so tender could be so pleasurable, especially to one she loved. It’d been so much fun.

Lifting her hand, she regarded the wedding ring on her finger. It flashed and winked at her against the low lantern light, warming her heart, reminding her she belonged to Ryder.

Ryder stirred beside her. With pleasure bubbling up in her, she watched his eyelids flutter, then open. Ignoring her twinge of shyness, she bent her head and kissed him on the mouth.

"What a nice awakening." He pulled her against him. "I expect to be woke up every morning just like this."

Laughing gently, she glided her fingers over his bandage, then across his barrel chest. She felt as if she were stroking him for the first time. Hot tingles moved through her. "You’re expecting a lot, aren’t you?"

"I’ll give a lot in return, Mrs. Ryder," he muttered against her mouth, then plunging his tongue deep.

They made love again, then with each of them wrapped in a blanket and as the darkness was succumbing to the dawn, they walked down to the creek. In the golden, early-morning sun, they bathed.

Later, Dannie couldn’t remember exactly how many times they made love. All she knew was that every time he’d sent her into depths of euphoria that reduced her to nothing more than a quivering mass of emotion.

Now by the waning twilight, she watched him and Parker bustle about camp, making ready to head for the creek for a little fishing before dark. She felt as if she’d been released from a cage. Yes, they would make it after all.

Feeling as if a warm blanket wrapped around her heart, she looked up and saw a man mounted on a horse through the tall grass toward them. As he neared, she saw that it was the marshal from Guthrie. A dart of foreboding shot through her.

"Evening, folks," he said with a polite nod as he reined in close.

"Marshal," Ryder acknowledged. "What can we do for you?"

The marshal straightened in his saddle, then as if on second thought, swung down. "I thought you’d need to know some men came in looking for you this afternoon." He studied Ryder. "Rough-looking characters."

Dannie felt as if heart almost stopped. Could the men be the gang Ryder rode with? Had they somehow found out he was here in Oklahoma Territory?

Ryder sucked in a long, deep breath. "They didn’t say who they were, I guess."

The lawman gave a quick shake of his head. "Naw, they didn’t. It pays to be cautious ‘round here bein’ surrounded by Indian Territory. As you know, it’s crawling with all kinds of bad characters." His gaze shifted to Dannie, then back to Ryder. "I didn’t want you meetin’ up with the wrong kind of company unprepared." He turned and swung back into the saddle.

"Thanks," Ryder said. "I appreciate it."

"If you need me, let me know." With a brief touch to the brim of his hat toward Dannie, he turned his horse about and rode away.

"Ryder." Dannie moved to him and touched his arm.

He turned toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Don’t worry about it, Dannie. It could be anyone. Someone from St. Louis maybe."

Her stomach churned with fear as she studied his strong face. "You don’t believe that, do you?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Come on. Go fishing with Parker and me."

****

As the days melted into weeks, Dannie began to relax. Maybe the men who were looking for Ryder gave up and went back to wherever they came from. Maybe what they needed just wasn’t so important after all. Maybe her uncle’s men weren’t coming back either. Maybe they just spouted nothing more than empty threats. For the first time, she began to relax and enjoy being Ryder’s wife.

She smiled. Ryder’s references to her as Danielle, the name of a woman, not a ragamuffin boy, were becoming more and more common. He’d told her Danielle was more fitting for her, a woman through and through.

With an eye trained on him as he and several other men worked on the roof of their new home and the pungent smell of new wood wafted on the breeze to her, she stirred the pot of stew. She was contented, with her intimate moments with Ryder shared in the privacy of their tent, beyond the reach of Parker’s eyes and ears, who now slept in his own tent. Many mornings she’d awakened exhausted after spending most of the night in Ryder’s arms. It was fun and she didn’t mind, except for now when her body told her she needed rest. Well, she couldn’t do that now since she had promised the men helping Ryder build the house a hearty pot of stew for lunch.

With a long sigh, she looked up and saw on the distant hill a lone rider coming, his hat low over his eyes, his gaze focused on their camp. Fear bubbled up within her. Picking up the rifle and patting her apron pocket to make sure the derringer still rested there, she hurried to Ryder just as he started up the ladder to the top of the house.

"Ryder," she whispered, catching his sleeve. "There’s a man watching on the hill."

Ryder’s eyes darkened as he lifted his gaze to the visitor. Something unreadable crossed his face, and for a minute Dannie thought he recognized the stranger. Dropping the hammer, he looked down at her. He cupped the side of her face in his large hand and bent and kissed her gently. "I’ll go see what he wants."

Something uneasy settled deep in Dannie’s stomach as she watched Ryder mount Thunderbolt, check his Colt, and ride out to meet the stranger.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ryder’s suspicions proved right as he reined his mount to halt beside the wiry man. Anger hit him in the gut with the force of a boot.

"Pennywell," he said, trying to remember this man had the mentality of a ten-year-old. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Night Rider." Pennywell grinned from ear to ear, his green eyes dancing with pleasure. "I come to give ye yore share o’ the money we stole up in Missuree." He reached into his saddlebag and withdrew a sack. "Here." He held it toward Ryder.

"Where did you get this?" Deep misgivings stirred. "I thought all the money was recovered after Clem Bartell’s arrest."

Pennywell giggled. "Not on yore life, Rider. I hid some of it and I wanted ye to git yore share. Ye were always good t’ me, an’ I didn’t want t’ leave ya out. We always said we’d take care of each other, didn’t we?"

"I don’t want it." With his uneasiness churning deeper into his gut, Ryder straightened in the saddle. Why the hell did this man have to show up now? "You need to turn it in to the sheriff."

The man shook his head. "I want ye to have it. Ye did most o’ th’ shootin’ an’ ye earned it. ‘Sides I have ‘nough fer me."

"I’m clean, Pennywell. I came out here looking for a new life and I don’t want the old one following me. Is that understood?"

"Yeah."

Ryder doubted that he did. "How much time did you spend in the hole?"

Pennywell’s face lit. "I was sent up fer only a couple o’ years. Jest got out last month." As an afterthought, he added, "Ole Clem Bartell knows ye’re here, too. Ye know that?"

Ryder felt as if a horse kicked him square in the chest. His suspicions that the men who questioned the marshal about his, Ryder’s, whereabouts were right. "How do you know that? How did you know where to find me?"

"I heard where you was ‘fore I got out. Word get ‘round. An’ he’s after ye, too. Tis what I heard."

"Why is he after me, Pennywell? I served my time."

Pennywell laughed and shook his head. "Not what we heard. We heard ye didn’t do no time ‘t all. An’ he’s after ye an’ madder ‘an hell. He thinks ye was a marshal or somethin’ or other."

"How’d he get out? He was sent up for life."

"Naw." Pennywell squinted and giggled, looked down at the camp, and scratched his head. "He ‘scaped. He’s holin’ up over at Younger’s Bend."

Forcing gruffness in his voice, Ryder took the bag out of Pennywell’s hand and said, "I’ll take the money. I want you out of here and I don’t want to see your face again. Do you understand me?"

Pennywell’s expression dropped with disappointment. "I thought ye’d be glad t’ see me, Mr. Ryder."

"I’m not. You’re a part of my life I’m doing my damnedest to forget. If I see you around here again, I’ll have you arrested and I’ll make damned sure you never get out of the hole again."

The man’s face puckered up as if he was about to cry. "I didn’t mean nothin’. I jest wanted to give ye yore money."

"I know you did, and I’m going to return it."

"Yore sure don’t act like no Night Rider I knowed. He’d a-kept it."

Ryder hardened his heart against the man. "Get out of here, Pennywell."

A gun suddenly cracked, breaking the stillness. Pennywell slumped, then fell to the ground and lay unmoving, blood spreading across his chest.

"Hold it right there, Marshal Ryder."

With the curt command came the click of a gun hammer. Recognizing the voice, Ryder, with suspended breath, waited as Bartell rode from the thicket and reined in beside him. Several other unkempt men followed. He recognized most of them, one being Bartell’s younger brother.

"It is Ryder, isn’t it? Colin Ryder, U. S. marshal."

Knowing he’d be a dead man for sure if he showed fear, Ryder fixed his unwavering gaze on the big outlaw holding the gun. Was he going to shoot him right here? Would he live long enough to make amends with Dannie? Would she live the rest of her life believing he was a liar, a thief, and murderer? A hard knot rose into his throat.

"All right, Marshal Ryder. So you’re not going to own up to anything." Bartell snickered and pushed his hat to the back of his head with the barrel of the gun. "That’s okay by me ‘cause I already know all ‘bout you." His eyes narrowed. "I know you have a pretty little wife." He paused, as if letting that bit of news sink in.

And it did. Icy fear squeezed Ryder’s heart, making him sick. The man was known to play games, as he was now. "You leave her alone, dammit! Do with me what you will but leave her alone!"

"My, my, but aren’t you soft and touchy." The man guffawed and fiddled with one end of his bushy mustache. "Dannie is her name." His gaze darted down Ryder. "You know, you should give little ladies what they want. Seems you rejected the wrong gal. Her name . . . ." He scratched his head. ". . .Candy. That’s her name. She didn’t take too kindly to you rejectin’ her, refusin’ to warm her bed. All we had to do was ask if you were ‘round these parts. All I had to do was describe you and she knew right ‘way who I was talkin’ about. No, siree, you’re not easy to forget." The ugly smile across his face suddenly disappeared into a cold, diabolical grimace. He leaned toward Ryder. "See, I make your business my business, an’ you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna give you a chance to show your loyalty to me an’ my boys. Ya see, we’re goin’ to pull a holdup right there in Guthrie at one of the banks an’ we need a sharpshooter. You fit the bill, Ryder. You always was faster than anyone I ever saw."

A new surge of fear choked him. "And if I don’t go along with you?"

"Remember that pretty little wife of yours?" Bartell flashed crooked teeth with his evil grin.

Every ounce of air went out of him. Every muscle in his body coiled like tight springs.

"Well, if you don’t go ‘long with us, we’ll take care of her," Bartell continued. "If you so much as breathe a word of our plans to anyone . . . anyone, got that, Marshal Ryder?

. . . she’s dead. But not before we have our pleasure with her first. She’s quite a woman." Straightening in the saddle, he glanced at the men. "Ain’t that right, boys?"

Furious, Ryder hardly noticed the nods, catcalls, and snickers.

Bartell’s gaze came back to Ryder. "You see, Ryder, there’s a helluva lot more of us than you an’ we could have her before you knew it." He leaned forward again. "An’ you’d better remember that, lawman. You’d better remember I’m no pussycat. I mean business." Suddenly reaching out, he snatched the bag of money off Ryder’s horse. "And I believe this is mine. No one . . . I mean no one . . . holds out on Bartell. Not even Pennywell. That’s why he’s dead. Jest like you and that pretty little wife is gonna be if you double-cross me. Do ye hear me, marshal?"

"I hear you, Bartell." Sharp fear for Dannie’s safety and remorse for Pennywell’s death knifed through him.

"Now, that we understand each other," Bartell snickered, "guess we can proceed with our plans. You’re gonna be our look-out posted just outside the door . . . you an’ Jock there." He nodded toward his brother. "Got that?"

"When is all this going to happen, Bartell?"

Bartell’s ugly sneer widened. "We’ll let you know, Marshal Ryder. One of us will come and get you when we’re ready."

"I’ll meet you some place, Bartell. You name the place."

Bartell snickered. "Not on your life, Ryder. You see, we know exactly where your camp and your little wife are. I’m makin’ the rules around here. You’re not." Pausing, he let his gaze flicker down Ryder’s frame. "You an’ your wife are bein’ watched. In fact, Huxley here is goin’ back with you to make damned sure you do as you’re told and to keep a close watch on Dannie-gal." Emitting a cold, harsh chuckle, he gave a short jerk of his head toward one of his men, who separated himself from the rest and halted beside Ryder.

"I’ll see you later, marshal." Kicking his mount in the sides, Bartell rode off, his men behind him, and disappeared into the distance.

Ryder hurt to the gut, fear rolled and curdled in his stomach. He knew the outlaw left no stone unturned. He had no conscience. And no scruples when it came to women.

Wheeling Thunderbolt around, he headed back toward camp with Huxley beside him. What he had feared was coming back to haunt him. He wondered if he would ever be totally free of his past. Except now he not only had himself to worry about but Dannie - and Parker, as well.

Dannie stood where he’d left her, her hand shading her eyes as she watched him approach. Her gaze darted curiously to Huxley beside him as they reined in and dismounted.

"Ryder, what’s wrong? I heard a shot. Who is that man?" Glancing toward Huxley, she followed him into the tent.

"Honey, are you all right?" Looking down at her smiling face, her bright eyes, he swallowed.

"Of course. Why not?"

Reaching out, he touched the side of her face and brushed her mouth with his. He could lie and tell her his visitor was an old friend from years ago. No, he didn’t want their marriage to start with lies. But he had no choice. "An old acquaintance." He took off his hat, and tossed it to the bed.

"What does he want?" Her wide, questioning gaze rested on his.

Damn! Believe me, Danielle. Please believe me.

Gathering her into his arms and burying his face in her neck, he forced a light chuckle. "Huxley is his name. He’s someone I knew from way back."

She didn’t believe him. Seeing the painful disbelief on Dannie’s face cut deep into his gut. He wondered if he’d ever win her trust again. Would he ever outrun his past? Had he made a mistake by becoming one of the gang in order to bring them to justice - a justice system that Bartell managed to escape from?

Dannie thought the smile wavering across her husband’s face looked forced.

"When’s lunch? I’m starved." He planted a light kiss on her lips, brushed away a wisp of hair off her cheek, and led her outside.

"Ryder." She leaned away from him and looked into his face, drawn and cautious. "What happened? What’s going on?"

"Dannie, promise me you won’t leave the camp without me. Promise me you won’t even ride over to the Warrens without me." He gripped her shoulders.

"What happened?"

"Trust me, Dannie."

"Hey, you two lovebirds!"

They turned to see Ty striding toward them, hammer in hand, grinning. "What was the shot about?"

Ryder shifted uneasily. "A snake. I shot a rattler."

"I’m hungry. Is the stew ready?" Ty’s gaze moved to Dannie.

"In just a minute," she said as Ryder released her, sliding his arm around her waist. "Tell the men to wash up."

"Come on, Ryder. I’ve got a joke for you."

Reluctantly releasing her and glancing toward Huxley, Ryder kissed her forehead, squeezed her arm, then with a quick, nervous grin moved toward Ty. "Come on, Huxley," he called, with forced lightness. "You heard her. We have to wash up."

Her gaze lifted to Huxley as he ambled behind them, his thumbs hooked in his pockets, a slow, careless swagger in his walk, his gaze locked on her. She shivered with an unnatural chill.

"Did you hear the one about the farmer who went to see a banker about a loan. . . ?" Ty’s voice trailed away as the men moved toward the washbowl set on a table.

Dannie’s heart felt heavy. Why didn’t Ryder answer her question? Why did he seem to be so worried? So preoccupied? Something cold and gut-wrenching kicked her, almost making her double over. What was going on? Something wasn’t right. And Huxley. . . . Chills moved over her. Was Huxley a part of the Bartell gang?

Later, as the evening sun etched long, thin shadows across the waving grass, Dannie lifted the cornbread out of the skillet and heard the distant ring of hammers as the skeleton of her and Ryder’s house rose. She knew it would be quitting time in a few minutes and the neighbors would be leaving.

How she wished Huxley would be leaving, too! The man made her nervous. The way he leered at her, as if he was planning something evil or that he knew something she didn’t, unnerved her. She wondered if Ryder even noticed. Probably not. All his attention was directed on his work, although he’d thrown her quick glances, and a couple of times, when he’d stopped for a drink of water, he’d come to her and held her. She sensed a desperation in his kisses.

Desperation or guilt?

"What ya got cookin’, Dannie?"

Startled, she pivoted, coming face to face with Huxley. "Mrs. Ryder to you. And it’s rabbit stew." Her voice caught. Swinging her gaze over the yard, she noticed that Ryder was preoccupied with bidding the neighbors farewell.

Huxley’s snaggle-toothed grin spread. His eyes glinted darkly. "So you’re Ryder’s old lady, huh?"

Ire shot up within her. "I’m not old, thank you. I’m his wife, and it’s best that you don’t forget it."

He snickered. "Or he’d do what?"

Her face warmed. "Shoot you."

"No doubt ‘bout that. He’s a mean ‘un all right. That husband of yours is hell to tangle with. That’s why I’m not gonna mess with you . . . not ‘til I can get you off to myself anyhow."

His gaze darted down her figure, making her painfully aware of the tight-bodiced shirtwaist she wore. Though high of neck and long sleeves, the dress emphasized her waist and full hips.

She suddenly felt naked under this man’s evil stare. "Then I’d suggest you leave and go back to wherever you came from."

"I just got outta prison, woman. And I don’t have a place to go, ‘cept here."

She shivered. "Don’t you have family?"

"Naw. Bartell’s gang is all the family I know. ‘Sides, we’re here to pull a job an’ your husband is part of it."

Dannie felt the blood drain out of her face. "What do you mean?"

"A job, woman. Ya know what a holdup is?"

Anger flashed through her as she glanced toward Ryder. Although he, with Parker beside him, was talking with a couple of men, his face was turned toward her, a worried expression furrowing his brow. "Yes, I know what a holdup is." She looked up into Huxley’s face. "What are you going to rob?"

"Cain’t say no more." His eyes narrowed into tiny slits. "You didn’t know that, did ‘ya? Well, bet ya don’t know he still had some o’ the money we took up in Missouri, did ya? Old Bartell’s got that now, though. Ryder kinda gave it to ‘im today."

Chilling fingers curled around Dannie’s heart. Scalding tears blinded her. Suddenly feeling faint, she pivoted and fled into the tent, hearing Huxley’s ugly chuckle behind her.

Anger flew all over Ryder as he watched Dannie disappear into the tent. What did Huxley tell her? Excusing himself, he strode to Huxley, who seemed to cower and back up a step.

"What did you say to her, Huxley?" He grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and twisted. The man’s eyes bugged with fear.

"Nothin’, man! I swear, nothin’!"

"Don’t lie to me!" He twisted the collar a little tighter. The man’s face turned bright red. He struggled for air.

"I jest told her we were doin’ a hold-up," he gasped. "That’s all."

Losing all rationale and before realizing his actions, Ryder plowed his fist into the man’s face. With a yelp of pain, the man reeled to the ground, blood spurting from his nose and mouth.

Ryder stepped over him and strode to the tent, pushed back the flap and, drawing in a deep breath, stepped inside. Dannie was lying on her stomach on the cot, her face buried in her arms. He felt as if his heart was about to crack open.

"Dannie." He knelt beside her and touched her shoulder.

"Leave me alone, Ryder."

By her muffled voice, she knew she’d been crying. "What did he tell you?"

A long moment passed before she stirred and faced him. Tears glistened against her cheeks and clung to her eyelashes. Her lips trembled. "You lied to me." She cringed away from him, the expression in her eyes daring him to deny her accusation.

He swallowed the hard lump in his throat. "No, Dannie, I didn’t."

Her face turned hard. "Aren’t you in with the Bartell gang to pull a hold-up?"

"No . . . yes. . . ." Desperate, he ran his hand through his hair. Damn Bartell! "I intended to, Dannie. Please, trust me." Ryder had never felt so helpless in his life as he did now, looking into her wet face, seeing the hurt, the disbelief in her dark eyes. He wanted to reach out, touch her, hold her, but dared not.

"I trusted you. I believed in you all these months only to be proven wrong. Now I learn you’re going to pull a hold-up. I don’t think Huxley has any reason to lie, do you?"

The agony in her voice tore him apart inside. "He’s a liar, though. He only told you half the truth."

"What’s the other half, Ryder?" Sarcasm laced her tone.

"I didn’t come here to pull a hold-up. I’m no longer a part of that gang. Trust me." He caught her arm and squeezed, praying she would believe him.

Her eyes narrowed and a tear slipped through her lashes and ran down her cheek. She took a deep, shaky breath. "You’ve been running from the law ever since I’ve known you."

"Dannie . . . ." His voice broke. His chest hurt and he wondered if he was about to die of a broken heart. "It’s not what it looks like--"

"Good." With a quick toss of her head, she peered at him through lowered lashes. "Then we’ll just go speak to the marshal in Guthrie."

"No!" His grip on her arm tightened. "You can’t do that, Dannie." Dear God, would he ever make her believe him? "You’ve got to trust me, Dannie. Please!"

New tears spilled on to her cheeks. She lifted her chin and glared at him, a little mocking smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Get out, Ryder. I don’t want you near me ever again."

"Dannie."

She jerked free of him.

"Dannie. Promise me you won’t leave camp. Huxley is a mean one."

She gave a sardonic chuckle. "He said the same thing about you."

"I mean it, Dannie!" He reached for her arm, and she again yanked away from him. "Huxley will follow you. Just promise me you’ll stay here in camp, within my sight."

"I’ll promise you nothing!" Suddenly springing to her feet, she glared down at him.

"Dannie." Still on his knees, he looked up at her. One of her tears fell on his cheek. It felt warm and wet against his skin. "Dannie, I love you. Remember that. No matter what happens, I love you. Trust me enough to pay attention to me when I tell you to stay in camp and keep a gun nearby. Okay?" He rose to his feet and stood close to her, clutching her shoulders, breathing in the womanly scent of her, wanting her at this moment more than he’d ever wanted her. He wanted to protect her and hold her, to bury himself in her so deeply that they became one, to show her how much he loved her and always would. "Promise me."

Glaring at him, she suddenly swung her outstretched hand, striking him on the face. The crack of it rang loud in the silence. Thick silence fell between them until she at last turned and strode out of the tent, yanking the flap down behind her.

Ryder knew that with that single act, she’d shut him out of her life forever. He’d lost her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The next morning, with her heart feeling as if it was about to break, Dannie watched Ryder go through the motions of working on the house. He worked alone, with only Parker’s help, since the neighbors were taking a day to tend to their own responsibilities. Huxley made only a pretense of helping, loitering more than being of any good. What a poor excuse for a friend, she thought.

Even Ryder seemed unable to concentrate on his tasks, his attention often straying to her, watching her - as if making sure she didn’t sneak off, then to Huxley, guarded and hostile. She wondered if the relationship between outlaws was as cold, distant, and guarded, as it seemed to be between these two men. In their world, there was no closeness, no warmth, no genuine caring.

She shuddered, remembering how empty and icy she’d felt last night sleeping inside the tent alone. Ryder had slept outside, and she’d almost stumbled over his bedroll when she’d walked out this morning. Thinking it odd that he’d pulled his bed so close to the opening in the tent, as if to protect her, she’d gone about her business preparing breakfast. Waves of hurt and anger surged through her now as she washed dishes, bringing scalding tears to her eyes. How could she have been so foolish to have trusted Ryder? To have married him? Could she still have the marriage annulled? Or would she forever be labeled as a divorced woman, a shameful stigma that would follow her the rest of her life?

Instead of making life easier for her and Parker, she’d only complicated things for them both.

Another surge of hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked at her hands, wet and glistening with water. No longer the soft, white hands of a pampered woman, they looked red and rough, those of a working woman. If she’d stayed in Kansas City, her hands would still be those of an aristocrat. She’d still be wearing gowns of silk and velvet instead of simple dresses of gingham and calico. Balls and the theater would be her entertainment instead of barn dances and buying supplies in a frontier town. Baths in a porcelain tub with piped hot water were a luxury she no longer enjoyed. The cold creek was her bathtub here.

What a fool she’d been!

Or maybe not. She studied Parker moving among the studs of the house, going and fetching for Ryder. She’d saved him from a life of physical and verbal abuse. Maybe it was all worth the hardships.

Even her broken heart.

The thud of hooves pulled her attention to several riders trotting through the high grass toward camp. Slipping her hand into her apron pocket to make sure the derringer was still there, she glanced toward Ryder as he straightened, picked up the rifle, and, after saying something to Parker, strode out to meet them. Huxley, grinning wide, followed him.

Able to hear only the murmurs of their voices, she understood that they were members of Ryder’s gang, although their demeanors seemed domineering toward Ryder. He looked angry, his tight jaw flexing, then throwing aside his hammer, turned and started toward her.

She stiffened with defiance as he approached. His face softened as he stood before her, his black eyes shadowed with concern. Without a word, he caught her rigid shoulders, bent and kissed her lightly on her lips. She forced her lips to remain cold, unresponsive.

"I’ll be back," he whispered lowly, his tone tinged with desperation as he slipped the rifle into her hand. "You and Parker stay here. Keep the rifle close and away from Huxley."

"Who are those men? Where are you going?" Fright such as she’d never known tore through her.

"To town." He glanced toward Parker. "Keep him and the rifle close to you."

"Isn’t Huxley going with you?"

Anguish darkened Ryder’s eyes. "No, he’s staying here." His grip on her shoulder tightened, then again bending, he kissed her lightly. "I love you." He turned and walked away from her.

Tears blurred her vision. Running her hand down the side of her skirt, she suddenly realized the derringer was no longer in her apron pocket. Startled, she watched Ryder as he said something to Huxley, then mounted Thunderbolt, slid his hand down his leg toward his boot, then rode away with the men.

He’d taken her derringer and hidden it in his boot. Was he in danger? What was going on? Why was he so secretive?

A myriad of emotion swept through her, leaving her angry, hurt, and feeling betrayed. Abandoned by the man she loved. Choking back sobs, she shifted her gaze to Parker, still moving among the studs of the house. Huxley turned toward her and flashed a snaggle-toothed grin. She shuddered. The man repulsed her. She had to find a way to get rid of him.

Taking a deep breath, she strode toward him, hoping she projected an air of confidence and courage. The man’s grin spread.

"Since Ryder’s left you here, I think you’d better get to work on the house," she ordered.

He snickered, his gaze dropping the length of her. "He ain’t here, is he?"

A dart of fear flitted along her spine. She unwaveringly met his face. "He’ll be back though, won’t he?"

His chuckle deepened. "I wouldn’t bet on it, lady."

Her heart froze. "Do you know something I don’t? Something Ryder doesn’t know?"

He snickered. "Naw. It’s jest that Bartell an’ he don’t get along too good."

Determined not to show any fear, she lifted her chin. "Ryder’s not one to be reckoned with."

"You’re right ‘bout that. He’s a mean ‘un all right. The devil hisself is afraid of ‘im." He stepped nearer, his eyes deepening with passion. "But he’s not so mean that you an’ me cain’t have a little fun, can we?"

An idea suddenly coming to her, she smiled coyly up at him, batting her eyelashes. "Tell you what." She ran her finger along his arm. "You get Parker busy, then I’ll meet you down at the creek. How’s that?"

Huxley’s grin spread wide. "I’ll meet ya there." His gaze darted to her breasts and lingered. Then with a snicker of delight, he turned and moved toward Parker.

"Hey, Dannie, where’s Ryder goin’?" Parker called.

Looking up, she saw her brother jump off the floor of the house and come toward her. Uneasiness curdled in the pit of her stomach. "He has to run an errand. Mr. Huxley here is supposed to help you on the house. You do what he tells you, and I’m going down the creek after some water."

"Who’re those men he went with?"

"Friends." Her heart contracted with the lie. "Now go help Mr. Huxley."

Shuffling his feet, Parker reluctantly turned and strode with Huxley toward the house. With a lump choking her, Dannie turned and studied the rifle. No, it was too unwieldy to be used for what she had in mind. She had to use something else. Letting her gaze sweep over the camp, she spotted the iron skillet she’d just washed. That would do. Retrieving it, doing her best to conceal the pan among the gathers of her skirt, she started toward the creek, her heart pounding, the palms of her hands slick with sweat. She prayed she could pull this off.

Once hidden behind the heavy thicket and trees along the creek bank, out of Huxley’s view, Dannie slipped among the bushes near a large willow. Hoping she was well hidden, her ears straining to hear his approach, she waited with her heart in her throat.

What was taking him so long? Or did the wait just seem long?

At last hearing him tramp through the grass and thicket, she waited, hardly breathing. His steps came nearer. Dried leaves crunched under his weight.

"Dannie. Are ya here?"

She lifted the iron skillet over her head.

"Dannie?"

And waited.

His steps neared. He stepped past her, then as if sensing her behind him, pivoted. His eyes widened with surprise as he threw up his arms to ward off her blow, but he wasn’t quick enough. She brought the skillet down on his head with a resounding crack. Without a sound, he crumpled to the ground at her feet.

Suddenly horrified at what she’d done, she dropped the pan, and forcing herself not to look at him, whirled about and fled. She wondered if she’d killed him, for she had hit him so hard her arm vibrated. Parker looked up at her as she ran back into camp.

"What’s wrong, Dannie?" He dropped the hammer.

"Parker!" Grabbing his shoulders, she looked into his face. "Don’t ask questions! Ride to the Warrens and stay there! I’m going into town to see the sheriff."

"Why? What’s going on?" His forehead furrowed.

She shoved him toward his horse. "I’ll explain later! Go!"

****

Pulling Thunderbolt to a halt, Ryder studied the growing, bustling town sitting before him. One of its six banks was going to have the misfortune of being robbed by Bartell’s gang today.

He shifted in the saddle and glanced at the angry-looking men he rode with. Bartell and his brother, Jock, was on each side of him as if they feared he might escape. He shuddered, and prayed that Dannie was all right. He hoped Huxley took seriously his warning that he’d kill him if he as much as laid a hand on her - if he, himself, lived through this.

Wiggling his foot, he felt the press of Dannie’s derringer against his leg in his boot. He hated to have to take the gun out of her apron pocket, but he knew he had no choice. It may prove to be his only protection against this bunch of killers, for he didn’t doubt they intended to kill him once he’d served their purpose in pulling off this robbery. Clem Bartell left no witnesses. Especially witnesses turned traitor.

"Okay, boys, all of you know what to do." Bartell stiffened in the saddle, his cold, diabolical gaze moving to Ryder. "That includes you, too, lawman." He grinned.

Ryder stiffened with the poke of a gun in his ribs.

"Get his gun, boys," Bartell ordered.

The gun was yanked out of his holster.

"Now, drop your belt." Bartell’s ugly grin spread.

Not surprised by Bartell’s demand, Ryder reluctantly unbuckled his holster and dropped it to the ground.

"Now you’re going to be our lookout, with Jock here, while we pull the job," Bartell said, leaning his arm on his saddlehorn.

Ryder sucked in a long breath. As he suspected, he was to be the lookout - an unarmed lookout. If bullets started flying, he would be the first to fall. That’s the way Bartell worked. No quick hangings for him. No quick bullets from his own gun. No beatings. This was his way of eternally branding him, Ryder, as an outlaw. He’d always be known as the lawman turned outlaw.

"Come on, boys! Let’s ride!"

The streets were bustling as they rode into town. The pound of hammers and rasp of saws mingled with the rattle of wagons and the clip-clop of hooves. It was too bad the new city was about to be initiated into the real world of crime.

Several people sent them curious stares as they rode down the street toward the National Bank. Ryder hoped the marshal would see them and maybe recognize Bartell or that he, Ryder, somehow could send an unspoken message to him.

Reining his mount to a halt in front of the brick building, Ryder and his companions dismounted and lifted their bandannas to cover the lower halves of their faces. Drawing guns, the men rushed into the bank, leaving Ryder and Jock just outside the door.

Feeling exposed, vulnerable, and naked without the protection of a gun, Ryder waited and watched, every nerve in his body tied in knots. He felt sick about what he was doing, for having left Dannie and Parker at Huxley’s mercy back at camp, and for feeling like a traitor to her and to himself. He wanted to vomit.

Choking back the bile in his throat, he glanced over the street once again. It appeared that no one had noticed that the bank was in the process of being robbed - no one but the woman standing stone-still across the street, her gaze fixed on him, her face frozen into an expression of disbelief.

Dannie! From the stricken look on her face, he knew she’d recognized him. She’d seen him in the process of holding up a bank.

What was she doing here? How did she escape Huxley? Where was Parker? Lightning thoughts flashed though his mind. He choked back the bile in his throat.

She suddenly pivoted and fled down the street, out of his sight, caught up in the movement of people and vehicles.

Dodging pedestrians and supplies that littered the boardwalk, Dannie felt as if her heart had been ripped out of her. Tears blinded her. She’d recognize Ryder anywhere. Those dark eyes above the handkerchief belonged to none other than Ryder, her husband, her lover. She sobbed aloud.

At last coming to her senses, she slowed her pace in front of the marshal’s office. She wondered if the lawman was in his office yet. Moments ago he couldn’t be found. Fighting with her conscience as to whether to report the robbery at the bank, she wiped at her wet cheeks and stepped inside.

****

Suddenly angry with himself, with Bartell for pulling him into this, and at Dannie for her untimely appearance, Ryder jerked the bandanna off his face and snatched the derringer out of his boot at the same time. Jock, caught off guard, lifted his gun. Acting on instinct, Ryder grabbed the gun out of his hand and poked the derringer in his stomach.

"This is a small gun, but it’ll put a hole through your middle," Ryder hissed between tightened jaws. "Inside." He gave a quick nod toward the bank.

Jock’s gaze darted to the gun pressed against his middle.

"Don’t try it."

Turning, the man stepped into the bank. Ryder followed him. Bartell turned, his eyes widening with surprise when he saw the gun in Ryder’s hand. The few customers, hands in air, their eyes round with fear, sent furtive glances toward him.

"Why you damned son-of-a--"

Bartell didn’t get the shot fired. Ryder’s bullet hit him first, plunging into his chest. With a yelp of surprise, he tumbled forward.

"Anybody else want it, too?" Ryder’s gaze swung to each of Bartell’s men, coming to rest on Jock.

"You damned bastard!"

"The rest of you unload your guns," Ryder ordered, "then we’re going to see the marshal."

One by one the men dropped their guns and with hands high, shuffled toward the door.

Jock suddenly pivoted, firing his gun. Ryder felt the gut-wrenching pain of the bullet plunge into his chest. The floor rushed toward him. The thought that he’d failed Dannie flashed across his mind just as blackness closed in.

*****

By the time Dannie reached the Warrens, her tears had dried against the wind. Her heart ached with such longing that it cut into the very center of her being. She’d never forget Ryder’s eyes as they looked at her from across the street. She’d didn’t know heartache could hurt so deeply, so intensely. Angry at herself for having fallen so hard for an outlaw, she reined Outlaw to a halt in front of the house and hurriedly knocked on the front door. Sadie, wiping her hands on her apron, appeared in the doorway.

"Dannie, what’s wrong?" The woman’s expression dropped with concern as she stepped aside, letting Dannie into the house.

"Oh, Sadie!" Feeling another rush of tears, she hastily smeared away a stray tear. "I’m leaving Ryder!"

"You’re what?" Her eyes widening with shock, she took Dannie’s arm and led her to a ladder-backed chair and gently shoved her into it.

"You heard right. I’m leaving Ryder."

"What on earth brought this on?" Sadie poured coffee into a china cup.

"Oh, Sadie, I just don’t know what else to do!" Taking the steaming cup, she sipped the black beverage. Suddenly no longer able to sit still, she rose and began to pace. "The circumstances that Ryder and I got married are kind of strange. . . ." Halting, she looked at Sadie, trying to decide whether to tell her the entire story or not, then deciding to confide in her, she took a deep breath and continued, "Ryder was a U. S. marshal who infiltrated the Clem Bartell gang to bring them to justice after they’d killed his parents. Parker and I ran away from our uncle in Kansas City because he abused us, and he put a reward out on us to anyone who would bring us back." Hesitating and seeing the quizzical look on Sadie’s face, she sipped her coffee. "You see, Uncle Mason is in charge of a trust our mother left us until I reached thirty years old or got married. So it behooves him to keep me unmarried until then. But he beat me and Parker. He was mean. We had to leave him. I had to get Parker away from him."

"Oh, Dannie, I’m sorry." Sadie reached out, touching her shoulder.

"We met Ryder in Arkansas City just before the land run and he kind of took us under his wing, so to speak. He watched after us, and that’s how we came by claiming the same quarter section of land. He was being hunted because of a reward put out on him when he was in the Bartell gang, and Uncle Mason’s men were hunting Parker and me for the reward he’d put out on us. That’s one of the reasons we decided to get married . . . my uncle couldn’t touch the trust once I was married and Ryder wanted the land."

Sadie sank into a nearby chair and gazed up at Dannie. "But that doesn’t explain why you’ve decided to leave him."

Beginning to pace again, Dannie sipped her coffee, moved to the front door and looked out across the vast countryside of rolling hills. "Ryder’s lied to me all this time, Sadie." Her voice quivered with choked back sobs. "I thought he was a good, honorable man, but . . . ." She gulped down a lump in her throat. ". . .but I saw him today robbing a bank with his old gang."

Behind her Sadie gasped. "I can’t believe that, Dannie. Ryder is a good, decent man."

"Oh, I thought so, too." Turning and chuckling sardonically, she met her friend’s gaze. "He had me and Parker both fooled. He’s slick-tongued, full of flattery. But I know what I saw. He may have been a marshal, but he turned bad when he rode with that gang." She swallowed hard, and brushed at her teary eyes. "He used me to put up a respectable front when all the time he planned to rob that bank. I hate him!"

Sadie rose. "Dannie, I have a hard time believing that he’s like that." She moved to Dannie and put her arm around her shoulders.

"I know what I saw!" Irritated with her friend’s rationale, she shrugged her off and stepped away. "He was robbing that bank! And I’m leaving him for good!"

"Where will you go? What will you do, Dannie?"

"I don’t know!" Balling her fists up, she paced. "I can’t live with him, that’s all I know."

"Are you sure of what you saw? I mean, there may be more than what you know."

"I’m sure. I know what I saw."

"But you still love him, don’t you?"

With Sadie’s question bringing her up short, Dannie halted and stared at her friend. A lump rose into her throat. "I loved the Ryder I knew. The kind, gentle, loving man who I thought he was. He’s not that at all. Instead, he’s a ruthless, lawless man with no honor, and I’ll not live with him. Just like my uncle, he’s incapable of loving. All he knows is what he wants, and he doesn’t give a damn about the people he hurts in the process!" Despite her efforts, she broke into sobs.

Sadie grimaced. "Why do you think Ryder married you, Dannie? Was it because of only the land? What good would land do an outlaw, especially if he had to be on the run from the law? In all probability that’s what would happen, especially if he robbed that bank. So what would he have to gain by marrying you . . . if he didn’t love you?"

The question sobered Dannie. Through blurry eyes, she stared at her friend. "What do you think, Sadie?" She was unable to believe her friend was so dim.

A slow, understanding smile lifted Sadie’s mouth. "Honey, do you honestly believe that if all Ryder was after was sex, he’d have to marry to get it? A good-looking man like him wouldn’t have to marry for that, would he?"

Stung by her words, Dannie pivoted and stared out into the yard. "That’s the only way he’d get it from me and he knew it!"

"By why you, Dannie? Why did he want it so badly from you unless he loved you?"

"Oh, I don’t know!" She whirled about and faced her friend. "All I know he has ulterior motives for doing everything he does! And he’s a hot-blooded male. Don’t they usually do anything to get what they want . . . especially that?"

Sadie gave a short shake of her head. "Marriage is a very big step to take for just that. You were attracted to him, and you loved him. He knew it, and he was smart enough to know that in time, you would’ve broken down and made love to him without benefit of marriage. That’s natural. I think he truly loves you."

"Well, that’s too bad! He just killed my love!

Parker and I are leaving." Sniffing, she glanced about. "Where’s Parker?"

"Out back. He and Peter are helping Ty build a fence."

"I’ll get him and we’ll be on our way, then."

After bidding a hasty, teary farewell to the Warrens in the back yard, Dannie and Parker headed toward camp. Blinded by tears, the passing countryside hardly more than blurred images, Dannie couldn’t expel the memory of Ryder’s dark gaze across the street. Pain cut deep. The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves against the ground matched the hammer of her own heart.

"What’s going on, Dannie?" Parker asked as they trotted down the beaten path, a worried frown on his face. "You’re crying."

She sniffed and sent her brother a quick glance. "We’re leaving Ryder. I can’t live with him any more."

Parker’s eyes widened. "What? What d’you mean?"

"I saw Ryder in town today . . . robbing a bank."

Parker’s jaw dropped, his eyes grew round and watery. "I don’t believe you! Ryder wouldn’t do that!"

"But I saw him! And that settles it! He was robbing that bank, and I’m not staying married to him!"

"Are you gonna divorce him?"

"Of course!"

"But what’re we gonna do? Where ’re we gonna go?"

As if in response to Parker’s question, men mounted on horses suddenly plunged from the woods, pulling them to a sudden halt. Startled and frightened, Dannie yanked on Outlaw’s reins, her gaze moving from face to face, noting that the men were not trail-worn. Dressed in white shirts and cuffed pants, she immediately knew they were Uncle Mason’s men. And surprisingly, at the moment, she didn’t care.

"Danielle Jacobs?" one of them asked with a forced polite nod. "I’m Tom Ratliff."

"What do you want?" She lifted her chin high, blinking back hot tears, and sending Parker a quick glance. Wide-eyed, he stared at the men.

"I think you know what we want, Miss Jacobs," the man answered with an ugly grin. "You’re going back to Kansas City with us."

Defiance boiled through her, yet she felt oddly complacent and resigned. "And if I refuse?"

"We have orders to take you back one way or the other."

"My uncle has no right to force us to come with you."

The man shifted in the saddle. "We can do this easy or hard. It’s your choice."

"I’m a married woman. Bringing me back would be defeating his purpose."

Ratliff snorted. "That’s what we hear. But your uncle’s damned sure he can fix that."

"We’re not going." Meeting his gaze, she didn’t blink.

"Oh, I think you will, Miss Jacobs--"

"Mrs. Ryder."

The man snickered. "Yeah, we’ve heard. Colin Ryder, alias Night Rider, the wanted outlaw."

Dannie’s heart lurched. She sucked in a deep painful breath and felt another rush of tears. Biting her lip, she forced the sobs back, determined that these heathens wouldn’t see her weaken. "You assume a lot, Mr. Ratliff." Her tone was heavy with disdain.

"Are you coming peaceably, Miss Jacobs, or are you going to make this difficult?"

Dannie’s heart thudded with a new rush of fear for Parker’s safety as much as her own. It’d be a cold day in hell before they’d go back to Kansas City with these men. "You have no right--"

The man scowled. "We have every right!" He suddenly grabbed for Outlaw’s reins.

Anger shot through Dannie. "Never mind!" She yanked the reins just out of his reach.

"Dannie!" Parker cried.

Eyeing her suspiciously, Ratliff relaxed a bit. "You’re coming peaceably then?"

She nodded, her gaze swinging from one man to the other. Could she and Parker out run them? Probably not, for the men’s horses looked to be of good stock, strong, and muscular. True to form, her uncle hired only the best, and in this case, the best bounty hunters with the best horses.

Still, she knew she couldn’t go without a fight. She sent Parker a quick glance, praying he could read her intentions in her face.

Suddenly kicking Outlaw in the sides and with a "Giddy up!" she took off, aware that Parker had kicked Landrush into a hard run beside her. She hoped they could out run the men, even as she heard the pounding of their horses’ hooves behind them.

With sinking heart, she realized she had no chance as they closed in around her and Parker, pulling their horses to a halt.

"You won’t try that again, Miss," Ratliff hissed between clamped jaws. "We’ve got orders to take you back and we’re gonna do just that!"

Dannie didn’t see the fist coming. She felt only the pain in her face and heard Parker’s distant cry.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ryder’s first conscious sensation was the excruciating throb in his chest, then pale light seeped into the darkness surrounding him. Blurry shapeless forms came into focus. Hot and sticky, he realized he lay in a bed, a sheet covering him. The rattle of wagons, squeak of leather, and the whinny of a horse came to his ears. He blinked. The light brightened.

"Ryder."

The disembodied voice seemed distant with an echo. He forced his head to turn and blinked. The face bending over him was blurry, indistinguishable.

"Ryder."

He noticed the distinct joy in the woman’s voice.

"Dannie . . ?"

"No." The tone lowered with anguish. "No, I’m Sadie."

Sudden memory rushed back full-force. With a moan, he lifted himself and shook his head, trying to shake away the fuzz. He lay in a room on a street in town, more than likely Guthrie.

"Lie back down, Ryder. You’ve been hurt."

A soft, gentle hand touched his shoulder, pushing him back to the pillow.

More debilitating than the pain in his chest was the knife-like hurt in his heart. "Dannie. Where’s Dannie?"

"Ryder, you must lie still while I go fetch the doctor. He wants to see you the minute you wake up."

There was a rustle of movement as Sadie rose. Something close to panic shot through him.

"Dannie. Go get her." With an unexplained urgency, he again raised himself off the pillow. The grayness lifted completely, bringing Sadie’s face into sharp focus above him. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as her mouth bowed with her suppression of sobs. Wisps of hair floated around her face. "Ryder, she’s not here," she said, her voice low with agony.

"Where is she? I’ve got to see her." The feeling of panic sharpened.

"Ryder." Touching his shoulder, she pressed him back to the mattress as she sank into the chair. "We don’t know where she is. The marshal had men out looking for her, but we think she’s left the territory."

Hearing the words sent waves of shock through him. He moaned and felt a well of tears behind his eyes. The knife-like pain in his chest forgotten, he choked back the lump in his throat. "She’s left me?"

"Yes." Sadie’s voice was hardly above a whisper. Her face turned softer as her fingers caressed his shoulder in a show of sympathy.

"I know why." Turning his face away from Sadie, he let the tears fall.

"Do you have any idea of where she may have gone?"

Feeling as if his heart was being wrenched out of his chest, he shook his head and winced with physical pain of his wound. Would she have gone back to Kansas City? Surely not - not after spending so much energy, time, and money in escaping. No, she wouldn’t have gone back to Kansas City.

"Well, you need your rest now," Sadie said, a forced smile in her tone as she rose. She patted his shoulder. "I’ll get the doctor."

"Where am I, Sadie?" Grabbing her wrist, he met her gaze.

"At the doctor’s office in Guthrie. You’ve been unconscious for three days." A little smile pulled the corners of her mouth up. "The doctor had to remove the bullet. We’ve been worried about you. Welcome back to the world."

The world. What kind of world was it where one lives and loves only to lose the most precious thing in his life? With another rush of tears, he gazed out the window, wondering where Dannie had gone.

Another tear for Dannie fell.

****

Inside the great Gilmer manor, Dannie awoke to the sound of a swishing dust mop, the chattering of the servants outside in the hall, and demoralizing anguish. Lying among the down pillows, thick blankets, and silk sheets, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to squeeze thoughts of Ryder out of her mind, hold back the threatening tears and the sickish feeling she’d been having the past few mornings. She’d again dreamed about Ryder last night, just as she had ever since she’d been taken captive to her uncle’s house here in Kansas City. Her dreams had been warm, comforting, and sensuous, reminding her of the first night they’d made love.

Suddenly throwing back the covers, she sat up and glanced around. Her luxurious surroundings were of no comfort to her now. In fact, they mocked her. The big ostentatious house seemed dank and cold despite all its finery. The sumptuous meals were rich and that of a wealthy man with a bent to gluttony. The fancy clothes made her feel hypocritical, nothing more than a shallow facade.

In Oklahoma, she’d lived a hard life, having a tent as a house, a campfire to cook meager meals, and a creek as a bathtub. Baggy britches and shirt were her clothes, and she’d come to be quite comfortable in them. She hadn’t had to fuss with corsets and yards and yards of petticoats, except when it suited her. She rode a horse that she’d grown fond of. Fancy landaus drawn by fancy horses no longer seemed right or comfortable for her.

Above all, she’d had a man who loved her and she him. Their love had been special. But that was all behind her now. She must forget him, put him out of her heart forever. He’d lied, deceived her. She’d fallen in love with an outlaw, an outlaw that for reasons known only to himself went to Oklahoma Territory, married her, then robbed a bank. Had he used her to present a respectable front to the people in order to throw suspicion off himself? Could Sadie have been right? Did he love her, Dannie, at all?

The thought brought a new rush of tears. Choking and swallowing hard, she looked through the opened French doors to the balcony and the gardens beyond, forcing her thoughts off Ryder.

She somehow had to find a way to escape, to take Parker out of this abusive environment. But how? Her uncle forbade her to leave the house unescorted, and she was being watched by all the household help - none of whom were overly fond of her. They all seemed to have the same disposition as her uncle, cold, domineering, and angry. The laundress, the only member of the household help who’d been friendly toward her in the past, had been fired by her uncle.

Well, one day she’d figure out a way of escape for her and Parker, come hell or high water. Somewhere, Uncle Mason would slip up, and she and Parker could make their move and be gone before he missed them. Of course, she and Parker wouldn’t go back to Oklahoma for her uncle would certainly come looking for them there. And she wanted no part of Ryder, no matter where he was.

Rising from the bed, she swayed and, fighting the sickish feeling that swept through her, glanced at her wedding ring glistening against the early morning light on the bureau. If what she’d begun to suspect was true and to remain respectable, she’d have to put it back on. If she was carrying Ryder’s child. . . .

With hot, heavy tears spilling onto her cheeks, she moved across the floor toward the balcony and gazed out across the gardens. As usual, her watchdog, Ratliff, strode among the flowers and shrubs under her windows.

Colorado. They’d go to Colorado.

She’d just have to bid her time until Uncle Mason relaxed his vigilance. Maybe if she pretended to resign herself to being back, even that she was glad to be back, and that she had no intentions of running away again, he would become less watchful of her.

With the thought came a ray of hope. She lifted her face against the early morning breeze, thinking how good it felt against her skin, wishing her heart could feel as warm.

She wondered what Ryder was doing.

With the unexpected thought angering her, she turned and strode back into the bedroom. Yanking her gown off, she jerked on her day dress, ran a brush through her hair, and letting it flow over her shoulders, went down stairs.

Pausing on the bottom step, she listened to the murmur of voices coming from the dining room as her uncle spoke with the servants. Sadness flowed through her. Taking a deep breath, she started across the wide hall when her gaze fell on a newspaper spread on the table. The headline of a short article halted her steps.

Head of Bartell Gang Killed, the headline read. Clamping her hand over her mouth to stifle the cry that rose to her throat, she read further, Infamous Outlaw, Night Rider, Also Believed Killed.

A bank holdup was foiled three days ago in Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory, when Clem Bartell and his murderous associate, known only as Night Rider, were killed. . . .

Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks, blurring the print. The room darkened. Everything around her swam and lost color. Her knees felt as if they were going to give way beneath her. She tightened her hand over her mouth and, dropping the paper, gripped the table for support. She felt sick. Her heart crushed. She wanted to run, to scream, to cry, to tell Ryder she loved him.

But he was gone.

Unable to contain the sobs, she turned and fled back up the stairs.

****

Hours later, feeling as if she was nothing more than a statue, numb and without any emotion, Dannie went down the stairs. She’d cried until there were no tears left and her eyes burned and itched. She’d claimed to have had a headache and refused to come down for breakfast, even refusing to see Parker.

How was she going to tell him that Ryder was dead? Ryder, her brother’s hero who could do no wrong. Parker still believed in him, believed that he was a good man who’d come by the life of an outlaw through no fault of his own. All her arguments against Ryder fell on deaf ears.

Her heart ached for Parker when she’d have to tell him that Ryder had been killed.

Beyond the walls of the great house, thunder rolled. Gray light filtered through the tall, wide windows and rain made tinkling noises against the windowpanes. She chuckled sardonically. The day reflected her own state of emotion, dark, wet, and sad. She wished she could curl up somewhere and hide away from the world and her feelings.

Moving to the doorway leading into the drawing room, she paused and peered inside. A lone lamp burned against the gloom as Uncle Mason sat in a huge wing chair, spectacles perched on the end of his nose, and read from a large book. How ironic that he looked to be the epitome of dignity and righteousness with his thin gray hair, trimmed mustache and beard. He looked nothing like the abusive man who made the most hardened criminals tremble in their boots when they appeared before him.

As if sensing her in the doorway, he looked up and removed his spectacles. "How do you feel, Dannie? I expected you down for breakfast." As usual, his voice held no warmth, only gruffness, his usual tone.

"A little better." She moved farther into the room, holding her chin high, determined not to allow this man to intimidate her. She was no longer the girl who’d once lived with him.

"Still have your headache?" Setting aside the book, he picked up a cup of coffee off the table and sipped it, holding his little finger out just enough to make the gesture look almost feminine.

Dannie suppressed the sardonic smile that tugged at her mouth. Even the bone china, gold-trimmed cup looked dainty and feminine. She couldn’t imagine Ryder holding anything in such a manner. Only a mug would do for him. He’d wrap his large hand around it, ignoring the handle. She’d seen him drink coffee in such a way many times. Another rush of tears pressed against her eyelids. Blinking hard, she forced them back.

"I just don’t feel well." She slipped into the chair opposite him.

"Ratliff did you up good, didn’t he?" Uncle Mason emitted a thinly disguised chuckle. "He hit you pretty hard."

Her hand went to the purple bruise on her cheek where Ratliff had knocked her into unconsciousness when she’d been brought back here. She’d awakened on the train as it sped north out of Oklahoma. "Which was completely uncalled for. I guess I was too much for your men to handle, so they had to knock me out."

Uncle Mason’s eyes darkened menacingly as he leaned forward. "They had orders from me to get you back any way they could. I understand you gave them quite a ruckus."

Sucking in a deep breath, she again tilted her chin high and fixed her gaze on him. "Of course I did. I had no intentions of coming back here. I have my own land there and was doing very well."

"With stolen money, I might remind you."

Anger shot through her. "That’s my money and you know it! I took nothing from you. Only what is rightfully mine and Parker’s!"

"You broke into my safe and removed money from it." Unsmiling, he met her gaze.

"Again, I took only what belonged to me and Parker. Now that you have us back, what do you plan to do with us? Keep us prisoner until I reach thirty? That may prove difficult to do."

Uncle Mason snickered, sipped his coffee, and leaned back into his chair. "What in God’s name do you want to leave here when you have every comfort imaginable at your beck and call? I can’t believe you went into a barbaric territory and lived in a tent!"

Deciding to change her tactic, she sent him a quick smile. "I don’t particularly care to go back anyway. It is nicer here with all the modern conveniences."

Her uncle’s eyes glittered with surprise in the pale light. "I’m surprised you lasted down there as long as you did." A note of delight edged into his voice as he studied her speculatively. "I understand you lost your morals out there and was living in sin with a man."

Dannie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She suddenly realized that she gripped the arms of her chair with tremendous force. As usual, her uncle still produced violent emotion in her. "We were married." Forcing herself to relax, she loosened her grip and sat back in the chair. "We were married," she repeated.

"Tell me, Dannie, why did you marry him? I understand that he was a lawman who was rumored to have been one of the worst outlaws to roam this country . . . Night Rider, I believe was his alias. He rode with the Bartell gang."

Dannie gaped at her uncle.

He grinned, a slow, evil grin. "Ratliff learned a lot when he was looking for you. Furthermore, rumors abound among the judicial system in this country. Not much goes on that I don’t know about."

The pompous arrogant jackass.

Uncle Mason chuckled and gave a quick shake of his head. "Served him right that he was killed while robbing a bank. Haven’t you heard?"

"I read it in the newspaper." A hot knife gouged into her heart. "He was good to me and Parker."

"I bet." With flourish, Uncle Mason settled back into his chair, his shrewd gaze sweeping over her.

Dannie felt warmth spread over her face at her uncle’s implication and wondered why she was coming to Ryder’s defense. After all, he’d lied, cheated, and deceived her. Why did she hurt so much inside? Why did she feel such an empty void in her heart? Why did she still love him? "You can’t erase the fact that I was married to him."

"I haven’t seen proof of your marriage. All I’ve heard is hearsay. Being the perpetual judge, I need evidence."

Anger seared her. Did she dare tell him she may be with child? No, she couldn’t. Not at this time. It’d probably bring fire and brimstone down on her if she did. The less her uncle knew the better.

"As long as you live under my roof, you’ve got shelter, plenty to eat, and comfort." Uncle Mason’s voice softened a tinge, as if he was sure his argument would prove right.

"You’re still underestimating me, Uncle Mason." She glared into his dark, ominous eyes.

A slow smile crept across his mouth. "Then I’ll just have to be a little more diligent in watching you, won’t I?"

"I succeeded in leaving once. I certainly as hell can do it again." Unable to tolerate her uncle any more, she pivoted and hurried from the room. She hard her relative’s chuckle behind her. Pausing out in the hall, she caught her breath and let the tears come. They felt hot and heavy against her eyes and cheeks. Why did she let him lose control? Now, what was she to do? Stay here under her uncle’s dictatorial rule? Or take a chance to escape to where? Where could she go to have her baby?

By law, her uncle had no right to forcibly keep her here, yet he wasn’t above bending the law to suit his own purposes. Furthermore, he knew just how far he could push the limit of the law. She sometimes wondered if he didn’t straddle it when it suited him.

Was Ryder really dead? Did she really have the stamina to face life without him? Sucking in a deep breath and leaning against the wall, she blinked and choked back the sob that rose to her throat. She had no choice.

"Dannie, what’s wrong?"

Startled, Dannie looked up to see Parker standing on the stairs in the shadows. For the first time she realized with a jolt that he was no longer a child. He looked so tall, his body hinting at the handsome features of the man he would soon become.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, moving down the steps toward her. "Did Uncle Mason do something?"

"No, Parker." Wiping at her eyes, she shook her head.

"Then what’s wrong?"

"Oh, Parker!" Sliding an arm around his waist, she clung to him and pressed her cheek against his head for a moment, too choked up to speak.

"Dannie . . . ."

Clinging to him, she led him across the hall into the parlor. Rich, burgundy-colored Victorian furniture and drapes made splashes of color against the deep, cherry wood furniture and patterned carpet. A grand piano gleamed in a corner. She led him to the sofa where they sat down. The rain outside clinked against the windows. Thunder boomed.

"Parker . . . ." Her voice broke as she clutched his hand in hers. Another threat of tears welled into her eyes.

"What is it, Dannie? What’re you crying for?"

She gulped. "Parker . . . Ryder’s dead."

A long, deathly-still moment passed as Parker stared with disbelief at her, his eyes round, his mouth agape. Huge, glistening tears welled up in his eyes.

"It’s true," she muttered hoarsely. "He was killed in that holdup down in Oklahoma. He was shot."

Parker’s face screwed up. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "I don’t believe it! Ryder can’t be dead!"

Gripping his hands tighter, she sucked in a deep breath. "I read it in the paper. He was killed along with Clem Bartell."

Parker began shaking his head. "No, no, I don’t believe it! Ryder’s not dead--!" He broke into heart-wrenching sobs.

Taking him into her arms, Dannie held him and let her own tears flow.

For how long they held each other, weeping, Dannie didn’t know. She was only aware of the incredible anguish they both suffered as Parker’s sobs filled the stillness. At last he pulled away from her.

"Dannie, what’re we gonna do now?" He smeared his hand across his cheeks.

"Go on. Do what we have to." She forced her voice to remain steady. "We have no choice."

"He loved you, you know. He truly loved you."

Doubting her brother’s words, she forced a smile and ran her hand through his hair. "I hope he did."

"You loved him, didn’t you?"

Feeling another onslaught of tears, she nodded. "Yes, I loved him. But not the man I saw last there in Guthrie. That wasn’t the man I fell in love with."

"He’s not mean! He wouldn’t rob a bank!" Throwing himself away from her, he glared at her through his tears.

"I saw him with my own eyes, Parker."

"He wasn’t a part of it, I tell you! He wouldn’t rob a bank! He was--"

"He wore a mask, Parker."

"I don’t care!" Springing to his feet, fists doubled, he glared down at her. "He’s not a robber! I don’t care what you say! I don’t care!" He sniffed and wiped his sleeve against his nose. "Let’s go back there, to Oklahoma, Dannie."

Her heart breaking, she shook her head and held his hand. "We can’t, Parker. We have nothing to go back to."

"Our land. We have our land."

"That’s all we have there. Besides, there’s too many painful memories now."

"But it’s home. I loved it. I loved the horses! The people! ‘specially the Warrens! We could do it, Dannie! We could make it there if you’d just give it a try!"

"Parker." She slid her tongue along her lower lip. "Parker, I’m expecting a baby."

Parker’s eyes grew as round as saucers. His jaw dropped. "A baby?"

"I’m almost certain that I am. Now, do you want us to go back and have my baby born in a tent? Winter’s coming on, and we’d have to live through cold, hard weather."

"Are we gonna stay here?" He threw a significant glance about the room, disdain heavy in his tone.

"Not for always. Uncle Mason can’t keep us here against our wills. We can move on one day. I’m thinking of my baby now, of having to give birth. Do you really want to go back to Oklahoma?"

"We can’t live here." His wet, wide eyes came back to hers. "He’d beat your baby just the same as he does me an’ you."

At the truth of his words, pain tore through her heart. "That’s true, Parker. That’s why we have to get out of here."

"Did you tell Uncle Mason about the baby?"

She shook her head. "No, I think it best he not know. If I have anything to do with it, he’ll never know, so don’t tell him." She again licked her lip. "We have to come up with a plan to escape. Uncle Mason won’t give us up. He likes to control our money. For now, we’ll have to pretend we’re going to stay here. That may take another month or so. We just have to make sure we do it right."

****

For weeks after, Ryder wondered where Dannie had gone. As he recovered and went back to camp, he wondered. Lying in his tent at night, he wondered. The almost-finished house made a mockery of his love for her and he let it stand, its studs and rafters making long shadows across the grass many summer evenings, just as it did now.

Sitting under a tree, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, he studied the skeleton, thinking it a monument to his love for Dannie. The hope that she one day would return stirred deep in his chest.

Was he going to spend the rest of his life mourning her and let his own life fall into ruins as surely as the house would if he let it? Was he going to drink every evening of his life away?

Suddenly impatient and angry with himself, he threw the bottle aside and rose. Come tomorrow morning he’d start on the house again. He’d see if Ty would help him. Maybe he’d have a new house come winter.

****

The town bustled when he rode into Guthrie several weeks later. A nip of a late September chill hung in the air. The sounds of growing town, rasping saws, the bang of hammers, and the rumble of supply wagons, assailed him as he rode Thunderbolt down the street toward one of the numerous lumber yards. As was his habit whenever he came to town, he scanned the faces, hoping to see Dannie. But as usual, the ache of disappointment welled up within him.

"Ryder! Oh, Ryder!"

Bringing his mount to a halt, Ryder saw Candy standing on the edge of the street, the bright ostrich feather on her hat fluttering in the breeze, her hand lifted in a wave to him. Modestly dressed in high-necked gown that failed to hide her curvaceous figure, she lifted a fold of the satin skirt and started toward him, a bright smile on her face.

Trying to push Dannie out of his thoughts, he let his gaze move down her, appreciating what he saw. She was tempting - and dangerous. The memory of how she’d betrayed him by telling Bartell’s men where he could be found felt like bitter bile.

"Hello, Ryder," she smiled up at him, flashing a hint of white teeth.

"What do you want?"

"I heard you’re up and about. Why haven’t you been to see me?" Her full mouth pouted.

"Why should I want to see you, Candy? You can’t be trusted." He swung out of the saddle. Even the scent of her flowery perfume didn’t faze him. Resentment ran deep.

"I was mad at you then. I wanted you but you didn’t want me and that hurt." Tilting her head to one side, she smiled up at him from beneath lowered lashes and slipped her arm through his. "I’ll buy your dinner."

He shook free of her hold. "Don’t have time today. I’m putting the finishing touches on the house. I want to get into it before winter sets in."

Hurt flashed in her eyes. "Ah, but you’ve got to eat. I hear you haven’t been doing much of that lately. Just drinking."

"Yeah, I’ve got to quit that." He squinted down the street, his heart still heavy with the faint hope of seeing Dannie.

"You’re still mourning over that pesky wife of yours, I see."

With a tinge of irritation, he looked down at her. "Yeah, I am."

"You love her, don’t you?"

He took a deep breath, not trusting his voice for a minute. "Yeah, I love her."

She looked up at him with a softness in her eyes that he’d never seen before. Her green eyes glinted as her mouth lifted lightly into part smile and part grimace. "I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I will. It may ease your heartache and my conscience for doing you dirty."

"What?" Interested, he turned his full attention on her.

"The day you were shot I was visited by some men from Kansas City and they were bragging about taking Dannie and her brother back to her uncle, brother . . . ." She shrugged.

". . .or whoever he is."

Ryder felt his heart leap. "Why didn’t you tell me this before?" Grabbing her shoulders, he looked down into her face.

"I don’t know. I guess you just never asked."

"What else did they say?"

She shrugged. "They were determined to take them back to Kansas City. All they cared about was the money they’d get when they got her back."

Suddenly bubbling over with joy, Ryder grabbed her around the waist and swung her about. "Dannie didn’t leave me on her own! She was taken by her uncle’s men!" He set her back on her feet. "Why didn’t I know that? How could I have been such a damned fool?"

Candy’s face softened even more. "Because you didn’t believe in her enough. You didn’t think she loved you so much that she wouldn’t leave you. You have to trust, Ryder. Especially the one you love."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A week later, Ryder stood in front of the mirror in a Kansas City’s hotel and carefully scrutinized his reflection. He chuckled to himself. His appearance belied his inner turmoil. He’d faced murderous outlaws with much more calm than what he was experiencing now. His heart hammered against his ribs and his palms were slick with sweat. All kinds of doubts churned in his mind, tormented him.

What if she refused to go back with him? What she didn’t love him after all? What if she’d found someone else and wanted to divorce him? What if he was only fooling himself? What if she’d come back here by her own will instead of by force as he suspected? What if she still didn’t believe that he had no part of that holdup in Guthrie? What if she didn’t believe the marshal’s affidavit that confirmed that he had not been a bona fide part of the robbery? What if she didn’t believe that he was innocent?

Trying to brush aside his qualms, he tugged at his

leather vest, smoothed his trousers, and straightened the Colt on his hip. He hoped he looked good for Dannie.

It hadn’t been hard to learn where Judge Mason Gilmer lived. After all, he was a prominent citizen of Kansas City. In fact, Ryder had ridden by several evenings, studying the house and grounds, getting a feel for the habits of the household help and the comings and goings of the judge, finally determining the best way to get inside.

He chuckled sardonically to himself. His training as an outlaw came in handy now. He had had to think like an outlaw in order to figure out a way to get inside the big house. He doubted that by showing up at the front door he would be welcomed, not by Dannie or her uncle, especially if she’d told him anything about her life in Oklahoma and that the last time she’d seen him was during a bank holdup. Besides, the judge probably had his henchmen surrounding the place. It always paid for a judge to be cautious, especially this one who trod the thin line between the law and the unlawful.

Sucking in a deep breath and saying a quiet prayer, he turned and picked up his hat off the bed. This was it. He was going after Dannie.

****

Standing in front of the diamond-dusted mirror in her bedroom, Dannie studied her reflection. Her petticoats hid her pregnancy, although she was hardly showing. She smiled

with satisfaction. The terra cotta silk and faille gown with polonaise and panniers she planned to wear to her uncle’s ball would disguise her condition very well, for she didn’t want to give the townspeople food for any more gossip. As it was, all kinds of tales circulated among the elite after they learned of her return, despite Uncle Mason’s story that she and Parker had been to Europe since April. Her reputation as a harlot would come soon enough when they learned of her pregnancy, which they certainly would if she stayed here much longer.

No, she had to devise a plan to get out of here, away from Kansas City. In a few weeks, her uncle would be going to Chicago. Maybe then she and Parker could get away when most of the household help was off for a day.

With a deep sigh, she wished she were somewhere else, any where other than here. She wanted no part of her uncle’s fund-raising ball tonight. Such pomp. Such frivolity. Such a waste.

The servants had been busy all day, cleaning, arranging furniture, decorating, and cooking. She’d bathed early, had one of the maids to style her hair, and now with twilight deepening outside, she would be slipping into a gown. In a way, she felt excitement about attending a party again, yet her heart was heavy inside her. Wouldn’t Ryder look so handsome all decked out in formal attire?

A little smile touched the corners of her mouth. Ryder. How could she have fallen so deeply in love with a man so much more capable of lying and deceit than her own uncle? In a way, he’d been crueler to her than her relative ever could imagine. Ryder had stolen her heart, then thrown it back in her face.

At the thought, tears welled up in her eyes. Angry with herself for her lack of control, she pivoted and moved into the dressing room. She picked up the porcelain scent bottle and touched the top to her throat, neck, shoulders and between her breasts. Picking up the brush, she ran it through her hair in long sweeping strokes and meandered back into the bedroom and halted.

Something had changed. Something was different. A scent, a faint scent of . . . of bay rum. Ryder’s scent. Suddenly breathing heavily, she glanced about, her gaze coming to rest on the huge canopied bed where her luxurious gown was spread. There, lying on the gathers of the skirt, were a slip of paper and a wilted, almost dead, Indian Blanket flower. Stunned, she moved to the bed.

How? What? Who? A little alarmed, she looked toward

the closed French doors leading to the balcony. The shadow of a man passed over the windows. Panicked, she realized the doors weren’t locked. She dashed across the room with the intention of bolting them when one swung wide open. With chills of fright shaking her to the core, she halted and stared at the silhouette.

She blinked hard. The man stepped inside, his face coming into the light of the lantern. Numb with shock, she gaped, unable to believe her eyes.

"Dannie."

Yanked from her stupor by Ryder’s husky tone, she again blinked, wondering if she wasn’t dreaming.

He made another step toward her. She backed up.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "I brought the flower all the way from Oklahoma. It’s a little wilted."

"What? Oh." She glanced at the flower on the bed.

"The note is a signed affidavit from the marshal swearing that I had no part in the bank robbery. In fact, I’m responsible for their being put back behind bars. All those that weren’t killed, that is."

"Oh." Is that all she could say?

"Dannie." He reached out, then as if unsure of what to do, dropped his arm, his eyes shining with appreciation.

Her hand flew to her mouth. The fact that the man

standing before her was really Ryder sunk in. "Ryder!" Feeling as if her knees turned to water, she grabbed the bedpost for support. "I thought you were dead!"

A light chuckle rumbled up from his chest. "I heard that, too."

"H . . . How did you get in here? How did you know where to find me?" She backed up a step, her knees still feeling wobbly.

"I’m a lawman trained in outlaw ways, remember? I learn my way around easily." He came nearer, his muscular body looming before her.

Now that her shock was subsiding, anger stirred within her. "You’re not a marshal. You’re a thief. I was a fool to believe you! You’re a liar, a killer!"

Suddenly he snatched her against him, his arm snaking around her waist, holding her so tightly against him their hearts seemed to beat as one. She stared up into his face, her fists pressed against his rock-like chest, her breath coming hard and fast, as if she’d been running. His black eyes glistened with passion and fire, his square jaw flexed.

"If you’d only trusted me, Danielle," he muttered, his voice low and husky. "I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I didn’t want you killed. You must believe me. I was forced to pull that holdup. Don’t you think I’d be rotting in jail if I was a part of it?"

"How. . . ?"

"Bartell came after me and told me he’d kill you if I didn’t go along with his plan. That was why Huxley was sent back to our camp with me. The robbery was a setup to get me killed. They forced me into that job without a gun. I knew I’d never come out of it alive, that’s why I took your derringer. It saved my life. I managed to kill Bartell and his brother before they got me. Yes, I was shot. My desire to see you gave me the will to live. That’s why I’m here now."

Feeling as if a light had gone on in her head, Dannie knew without doubt that what he told her was true. Her gut instincts about this man had been right all along.

"I’ve got a signed affidavit from the marshal--"

Ryder’s mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding at first, then it turned tender and sensuous. Hesitant, she at last gave in to the hot flame he ignited in her and slid her arms around his shoulders. Relishing the feel of him against her, she settled against him, feeling the hardness of his body through their clothes, and returned his kiss with a hard, demanding one of her own. Inhaling deeply, he held her so tightly she thought her ribs would crack, but the magic of being in his arms pushed all other thoughts away.

Holding Dannie’s thinly clad body against him made him feel as if he’d come home. Nothing had ever felt so right. "I love you, Dannie," he whispered against her mouth.

In response, she opened her lips to his. He responded to her hard, passionate kiss, letting his tongue probe and taste the moistness of her mouth. His breath caught as her hand strayed, moving across his shoulder to his chest where she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, while her other hand stroked his back and hips. She felt soft, pliable under his caresses as his hands moved over her buttocks and cradled her snugly against him. His own body was growing harder, ready to mate with hers, making him ache.

Cool air brushed across his skin as she pulled open his shirt and pressed her lips against his chest. "I love you, Ryder," she muttered, her breath warm and moist against his flesh.

Gritting his teeth against his demanding body, he pulled the ribbon of her chemise free, then moved to the ties to her petticoats and yanked them loose. The yards of satin dropped and pooled at their feet as she worked his shirt down his arms, then tossed it to the floor.

Her breasts sprang free into his hand, and he ground his teeth tighter against the urgent need of his body. Taking her hand, he guided it to his pants and together, they worked the buttons open. She laid hot, moist kisses against his neck, throat, and shoulders. Suddenly pulling away, she studied the long, ragged scar marking his chest where the bullet had been removed. Lifting her hand, she traced its line with gentle fingertips, then pressed her lips against it. Her hand found his arousal. He heard himself gasp.

Her unabashed strokes flamed him to greater heights of desire. "Dannie. . . ." His voice was hoarse and husky, muttered against her throat. He swung her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed. With his gaze fixed on hers, fiery with passion, he stripped off his boots and clothes until he stood nude in front of her. With a little giggle, she reached out to him, catching his arm, and pulled him to the bed.

"Love me, Ryder," she muttered against his lips.

With her hands like spits of fire on him, Ryder peeled her chemise and pantalets off, leaving a trail of kisses down her body. Her caresses became bold and daring, her fingers stroking and massaging while he slowly, methodically allowed his gaze to move over her, studying her body, from the top of her head, down her shadowy face, to the high, pink-tipped breasts and small rounded stomach--.

Ryder felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. She’d always had a flat, taut stomach. Now it was softly rounded.

"Dannie." His voice was so thick he could hardly talk. "You’re carrying my baby."

The unmasked passion in her face gave way to a little smile, then a giggle. As if unable to trust her voice, she nodded.

Sheer joy overwhelmed him. With a chuckle, he held her tighter and kissed her lips, neck, and shoulders. He wanted her to feel in his lovemaking how much he loved her.

At last, taking her hands, he lifted them above her head and with light kisses, began working his way down her flushed, writhing body, making sure every inch of her felt his lips. Whimpering, she squirmed under him, straining against him.

"Ryder," she gasped. "I want to feel--"

Her words were cut off with his mouth, as he stretched the length of her, resting his weight on his elbows. Feeling as if he were about to explode, he moved between her legs and sank into her warm depths.

Again and again he thrust into her, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm until unable to hold back any longer, with a groan, he released his seed into her as her cry filled the silence of the room.

Sometime later, Dannie lay sated and glowing in Ryder’s arms. Still, niggling doubts began plaguing her as her passion waned. After all, she hadn’t seen any proof of what he told her was true. All she had was his word, which was nothing more than what she had before she left him in Oklahoma. Yet, he was here with her, very much alive. True, if he had been a part of the gang and survived the bullet, wouldn’t he be in jail instead of here with her, as he claimed? Everything he said had an element of truth.

Stirring, she turned to him, only wanting to believe in him.

Ryder held her, afraid to let her go. He breathed the fragrance of her clean hair and womanly scent of her and listened to her slow even breathing. She made lazy circles with her fingertip across his chest and along the scar. Neither of them spoke. Their silence was enough. He loved this woman with a fervor he didn’t think possible - not until tonight.

Placing his fingers under her chin, he lifted her mouth toward his and kissed it softly, tenderly. Pulling away from him, she laughed gently and rubbed her foot the length of his leg under the covers.

"It was beautiful, Danielle." He kissed her hair.

"Ryder, I . . . ." She blinked at him. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the distrust I had in you. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you for my own shortsightedness."

"Me, too." He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. "I’m sorry for my own distrust in you. I thought that when Sarah left my world had caved in. I didn’t think I could love another woman as deeply as I did her." He pressed his lips against her forehead. "I was wrong. My love for her can’t compare to what I feel for you."

"How did you know where I was? How did you know I hadn’t left you of my own free will?"

Pausing, he tilted her face up so that their gazes held. "I didn’t. It was weeks later before I found out you were taken by your uncle’s men. Candy told me--"

Dannie arched her eyebrow. "Candy?" A tinge of jealousy edged her voice. "Candy Baker?"

"It’s not what you think. I ran into her on the street, and she told me about some men who’d visited her and had bragged about taking you and Parker back here to Kansas City."

"Candy of all people!" Her lips pouted.

"She’s not what you think she is to me. I never slept with her. After I met you . . . ." He shrugged, swallowing his pride. ". . .well, no woman appealed to me. I didn’t want another one. Only you."

Her face broke into a pleased smile. "I think I knew

that all along, but I assumed you being a normal male with normal needs and with her being attractive and available--"

"Don’t ever think I don’t love you, Danielle."

Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his tousled hair and pulled his head down to hers. Their mouths met in a fiery kiss.

****

Dannie thought she must have set some sort of record with the speed in which she dressed after the maid had knocked on the door, telling her it was time for her, Dannie, to go downstairs. Granted, she didn’t look as fresh or as starched as she should have, but, looking at herself in the mirror, she knew she had no time to do better. Besides, she felt as if she glowed from Ryder’s lovemaking, that by just looking at her people would know he’d just been made wild, passionate love to her. Wobbly and breathless, she at last left Ryder still lying in her bed and went down stairs.

With fluttering heart and knees so trembly she wondered how they supported her, Dannie stood between her uncle and Parker and greeted the guests as they bustled inside, dressed in all their finery. She wished Ryder would make his appearance and kept watching for him. She felt guilty by not telling Parker that his hero was alive and well, but thought it’d be nice to surprise him.

A shuffle of movement and a buzz of voices near the front door rippled among the guests, catching Dannie’s attention.

"You can’t come in here, sir!" came the butler’s excited voice. "You have no invitation!"

A hush came over the crowd as it parted. Dannie caught her breath, waiting expectantly. Only one person possessed so much presence that he commanded such a reaction.

"What the hell--" Uncle Mason began.

Ryder materialized out of the maze of people, towering above most of them, his black leather vest, shirt, and pants a marked contrast to the starched wool and velvet of the guests. As if showing his disrespect for the person whose home he had entered, he hadn’t even bothered to remove his hat as he gazed unwaveringly at her. Warmth covered her face as the memory of how he’d made love to her only minutes ago suddenly came to mind. Somehow she knew he was thinking the same thing.

"Ryder!" Parker squealed, dropping Dannie’s hand and flying to him. As if suddenly catching himself before he threw himself into Ryder’s arms, he pulled up short and looked up with wide-eyed wonder at Ryder, his face beaming. "We thought you were dead!"

"I’ve come to take your sister and you back to

Oklahoma." Ryder’s gaze briefly darted to Parker, then came back to rest on her. His dark eyes softened and smoldered.

Dannie felt heated, as if she was going to swoon. She’d never swooned before. In fact, she’d never even felt as if she was about to. She’d always prided herself on being stronger than that, not like some lily-livered women. Now, as his gaze locked with hers, the vivid memory of how his hands and kisses brought her to the pinnacle of ecstasy, the desire to run to him and fling herself into his arms rushed through her. Forcing herself to remain still, she sent him a nervous smile.

"Like hell you are!" Uncle Mason seemed to come to life. He strode toward Ryder, his face as red as a tomato.

Ryder’s icy, methodical look brought his steps to a halt. "Like hell I am."

"I’ll see that she’s not your wife for long!" her uncle spat, the vein along his neck protruding as if he was about to explode. "I’ve taken steps to have it annulled."

Ryder didn’t move a muscle. His deadly stare unwavering. "You’re a liar, Gilmer."

"I know who you are! You’re the wanted outlaw, Night Rider."

Shocked gasps and whispers rippled among the crowd.

"I’ll not have my niece married to a murderer! It’ll be no problem having this marriage annulled."

"I don’t think so, Judge." Ryder pulled a folded paper from his pocket. "This is a legal binding marriage certificate, and you have no authority to interfere. If need be, we’ll all go to the law and have everything verified."

"I don’t give a damn about your marriage certificate or your law!" Uncle Mason snarled, slapping the paper out of Ryder’s hand. "No niece of mine will be married to an outlaw!"

"He’s not an outlaw. He’s a U.S. marshal, Colin Ryder," Dannie heard herself say as she stepped between the two men and glared at her uncle. "I suspect that you also know he infiltrated that gang and brought them to justice."

Lifting his voice to insure that all heard, Uncle Mason looked up at Ryder. "He was caught robbing a bank down in Oklahoma Territory no more than two months ago."

"Because of circumstances we can’t go into right now!" Dannie snapped. "Besides . . ." She glanced around at the gaping, shocked faces, then moved to Ryder’s side. His arm slipped around her waist. He felt solid and comforting and

gave her the courage she needed to speak. ". . .I’m pregnant. I’m carrying his child."

Gasps and cries of outrage rippled through the crowd. Uncle Mason’s face puffed and turned florid. ". . . disgraceful!" ". . .no shame. . .!" ". . .younger generation is coming to . . .!" reached Dannie’s ears. Her face burned, yet she needed to go on.

"Uncle Mason lied to all of you. Parker and I didn’t set a foot in Europe. We ran away from him and his abusive ways and were living in Oklahoma Territory until he sent his henchmen after us. He forced us to come back here."

She lifted her chin toward her relative. "All he is concerned with is the trust my mother left me and Parker. He’s not concerned with our welfare and never has been. He beat Parker and me. That’s the reason we left him and fled to Oklahoma Territory." Pausing, she took a deep gulp of air. "We’re out of your control now, Uncle Mason. Parker and I are leaving with Ryder. I love Ryder. Nothing, including you, will change that."

Overcome with excitement, Parker grabbed Ryder around the waist and squeezed.

Ryder lifted his glare to Uncle Mason. "And no one is going to keep you from it. Let’s get out of here, Danielle."

Turning, he was suddenly yanked backward, Uncle Mason’s hand on his shoulder. Like a bolt of lightning, Ryder’s fist swung, striking the judge on the jaw, reeling him backward onto the floor. With legs spread, fists curling and uncurling, he stood over the prostrate man.

Lifting himself up, Uncle Mason wiped away the blood streaming out of his mouth and glared with murderous rage up at Ryder.

Ryder turned, and slipped his arm around Dannie. "Come on, we’re heading south." Stepping over the judge, he propelled her and Parker through the suddenly silent gathering and out the front door. They crossed the wide verandah, went down the bricked walk to the street to the rented carriage. Parker climbed in.

Ryder turned, letting his arm slide around Dannie’s waist. Her cheeks glowed, her full lips quivered, and her eyes darkened with love. Putting his knuckle under her chin, he lifted her face. His heart swelled. "Dannie, I love you," he muttered, then bending his head, he planted a soft kiss on her mouth. "Let’s go home."
THE END