Midnight Cowboy Page 15

What was that behind the boulders—a cave? Hope bounced inside Jack. But seeing that three sides of the opening were supported by railroad ties, he knew it was not a cave.

  “Daddy’s mine,” Andy confirmed.

  They scrambled inside, the cooler air immediately grazing Andy’s overheated face. She felt weak with terror; her heart was in her throat, her lungs heaving. “Jack, we’re trapped. This is a dead end.”

  “Just keep going.” He urged her deeper into the shaft. “He won’t risk coming in here if he can’t see us.” The toe of his boot bumped metal. The object clinked, then knocked against his shin.

  Andy jumped. “What was that?”

  Wincing, Jack scanned the ground, but it took several seconds before his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he spied the object he’d struck. “A pickax.”

  He warned himself against getting excited about the possible weapon. It was likely old and rotted and rusted. He grasped the tool, and surprise zipped through him. “This handle is as sturdy and smooth as a seasoned baseball bat.”

  He lifted it toward the light spilling across the mouth of the mine. “It might even be new.”

  Andy was a dark shadow behind him. “Is someone working this mine?”

  Jack had no time to answer. Ripping through the quiet from somewhere near the burned-out house came a shout of rage as bone-chillingly inhuman as the cry of a wounded animal.

  Jack’s body tensed, his fingers white-fisting the ax handle. Nightmare Man had just discovered they weren’t dead. Supposing he knew about the mine shaft and guessed their hiding place? Came after them? No. He was too smart to risk one or the other of them getting away and being able to accuse him.

  Being able to accuse him. For fifteen years that need had ruled Jack’s life. He was so close. Just through the creek, through the alders. If I belly-crawled to the grove. I could see his face. Know my father’s murderer. Reflexively, Jack started toward the adit.

  Alarmed, Andy caught his arm. “Where are you going?”

  As though her touch had brought him out of a trance, Jack shook himself and gazed down at her. What was he doing?

  “I know you want to charge out there and fell him with one blow, but a pickax is no match for bullets.”

  “God, I…” The mindless fury roiling through Jack unnerved him; giving it free rein was tantamount to disaster. Maybe death. And he’d thought Andy was the only one suffering from shock. He drew several deep breaths. Their only chance of surviving was outwitting the man, and until he calmed down they didn’t have that chance.

  Jack jerked off his Stetson, flung it behind them into the mine and gazed down at her as he ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Get back into the shadows. I’m going out to the boulders to see if he’s coming this way.”

  Andy’s pulse leapt. She’d rather he stayed here with her, but if Nightmare Man was coming, they’d need another plan. “Keep low.”

  “Count on it.” Grasping the pickax like a club, Jack hunched down and moved to the adit, stopping just inside the shaft and studying the terrain outside before stealing to the boulders. Shafts of setting sunlight poked his eyes as he flattened himself against the warm rocks.

  Straining to hear anything above the trickling of the creek, he detected a soft metallic clank somewhere near the house. He breathed more easily. Feeling relatively safe, Jack risked a look between two of the boulders. He had a perfect view of the fields and mountain range in the distance, but the alder grove effectively blocked the area he wanted to see.

  Frustration threatened again. Inaction went against his grain, his very nature; he hadn’t earned a Pulitzer for being passive. But what could he do?

  The shout came so unexpectedly, Jack jolted and dropped to his knees.

  “I know you’re out there somewhere.” Nightmare Man’s voice was an unidentifiable scream resounding from the area around the house. “This isn’t finished!”

  Seconds later the sound of a horse trotting into the distance pulled Jack to his feet. He peered again through the gap between the boulders, but all he could make out was a cloud of dust disappearing down the road.

  “What’s happening?” Andy’s voice echoed inside the shaft, louder than she’d meant. Although heat had seeped out of the air with the sun’s descent, sweat trickled down her neck and she yanked off her hat and tossed it down beside Jack’s.

  “He’s leaving.” Jack strode toward her. Most of the women he knew would be hysterical by now, but though she had to be terrified, there was nothing in Andy’s expression that showed she was ready to throw in the towel.

  She stepped toward him. “Really leaving, or circling back?”

  Jack set the pickax aside and drew his arms around her. “If he’s smart—and we both know he is—it’s damned certain he hightailed it back to town. He needs to resume some pretense of normality—he won’t risk our discovering tomorrow that he’d been missing during the crucial hours.”

  The knot in Andy’s stomach lessened.

  Jack nuzzled her soft hair with his chin. Even with grit and grime from the burned-out house clinging to her clothes, there was a delicate clean scent about Andy, and one whiff stirred his blood.

  “It’s nearly night,” she murmured, her voice laced with hope. “Shouldn’t we start walking back to town?”

  Jack hated to burst her bubble, but they’d talked about this before. “It’s too far of a walk to risk in the dark without a gun. Predators.”

  Andy shivered against him and buried her face in his shirt. She’d known he was going to say that. Give her good old western Washington anytime, where the only predators she’d had to elude at night were human. She leaned back and stared up at him. “Where will we spend the night?”

  “Here—unless you have a better suggestion.”

  She could think of none. “At least you’ll be with me.”

  He dipped his head and captured her mouth in a long, full kiss that left his voice raspy. “Every second.”

  Andy smiled at him.

  Jack realized she was getting harder to see. Dusk was descending fast. “Before it’s totally dark, I want to go and look at his horse’s tracks. Maybe there will be some way to identify which horse he was riding and thus identify him.”

  “Then I’m coming, too.”

  Even in the dying light, Jack could see the determination he was growing to respect glinting in her eyes. He released her, grabbed the pickax and nodded. “But we have to be cautious.”

  Still trying to catch her breath from the kiss, Andy followed him to the adit. Her lips tingled and her blood felt heated for the first time in hours, but fear of what could await them outside the mine had her nerves taut.

  Jack stopped and spun around, extending the pickax to her. “If it becomes necessary—just use this like you were swinging at a baseball.”

  “Let’s hope he’s as smart as you think and that it won’t be necessary.”

  They left the shaft and descended the incline. Dusk had advanced, but a full moon was on the rise and she could see more than she would have thought possible. Her hands gripped the pickax handle and her pulse thundered in her ears, all but drowning out the quiet splashing of their feet as they crossed the creek. Ahead, Jack moved as stealthily as a stalking mountain lion.

  Jack swept his gaze across the terrain, this way, then that. At the alder grove he crouched and peered through the trees. Andy did the same, whispering, “It looks deserted.”

  “Let’s wait a few minutes and make certain.”

  Five minutes passed like five hours. Andy’s knees were getting stiff from crouching when Jack murmured, “Stay here until I reach the foundation. I’ll signal if it looks safe.”

  Her throat constricted, but she managed a nod.

  Jack’s large frame disappeared through the line of trees and emerged on the other side. He moved with measured pauses and at length arrived at the burned-out house. She watched him scan the area in all directions before he signaled her to come ahead.

  In seconds she was
beside him. Jack was hunkered down inspecting the ground. “Damn the sneaky bastard. He dumped our saddlebags and used them to obscure the horse’s hoofprints.”

  In the light of the rising moon Andy could see the contents of their saddlebags scattered across the area. She went to see if anything was salvageable. Keeping her voice just above a whisper, she informed Jack, “We can forget about the sandwiches, and the wine bottle struck the foundation and shattered, but with the creek so near, we won’t go thirsty and I’ve found a hunk of cheese and a package of crackers. And the skinny quilt Minna insisted we bring for our picnic.”

  “Great. Ha.” Jack’s voice was also low, but sounded triumphant. “And I’ve found my canteen and my flashlight.”

  “Does the flashlight work?”

  “I’ll try it when we get back to the mine.”

  A coyote howled at the rising moon and Andy shivered. “Hadn’t we better do that now?”

  As they started back, Andy’s foot struck something sticking up in the dirt. Moonlight glinted off its silvery surface. “Isn’t this where you tripped?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, maybe this is the culprit.” She bent and pulled free a half-looped piece of metal.

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell.” She jammed it into her pocket. Her gaze darted around. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Jack took the pickax and the quilt and hurried her toward the alder grove. He stopped at the creek and filled the canteen, then seconds later they were back inside the mine. He laid the pickax aside, spread the thin blanket on the floor of the shaft, then tried the flashlight.

  “It works.” Andy blinked against the sudden brightness and grinned.

  “All the comforts of home, ma’am,” he said in his best Black Jack drawl. He sank to the quilt and patted the spot next to him.

  Andy accepted his invitation. As she sat, the “something” she had jammed into her pocket jabbed her hipbone. She wriggled it free. Jack panned the light over the silver crescent-moon-shaped object. “A bracelet?”

  Andy’s attention was fully caught by the bracelet.

  Jack joked. “You can’t seriously think that little thing tripped a big galoot like me?”

  She turned the bracelet in her hands, studying it, somehow recognizing it. She pointed to the inside of the band. “Shine the flashlight here.”

  “It’s an inscription. To Eloise, Love Always, Ben.” Andy’s mouth went dry and her heart swelled. “Oh, Jack. This belonged to Gram. Grampa Ben gave it to her on their wedding day. I remember when I was a little girl that she always wore it, but I haven’t seen it since the night of the fire. She must have lost it when she came to bring me home with her.”

  An inexplicable certainty struck Andy. Today Gram had saved not only her life, but Jack’s. She clutched the bracelet to her heart. Thank you, Gram.

  Seeing how much the bracelet meant to her, Jack reached for her left hand. “Then from this moment on, you should wear it.”

  The flashlight offered an ambience as soft as a candle’s glow. Andy gazed into his eyes and her breath snagged. Without his asking for the bracelet, she handed it to Jack. He clasped it to her wrist. “It’s too large.”

  “I inherited my lean bones from Mommy, my height from Daddy.” Placing her right hand over Jack’s, she squeezed the silver ends until the bracelet felt comfortably tight. “There.”

  “Beautiful.” Jack turned her hand in his, then kissed her wrist above and below the bracelet. Delicious shivers sped up her arm and warmth spiraled into her heart. Somehow it seemed like a ceremony that would link them forever. She lifted her gaze to his and saw the longing. Its twin stirred inside her.

  Jack cleared his throat, released her hand and grabbed the chunk of cheese from the quilt. He sliced off a wedge with his pocketknife and offered it to Andy. “Here, pretty lady.”

  “Pretty? Perhaps you’d like to borrow my contacts, Mr. Starett?”

  “A little trail dust doesn’t count.” Jack took his clean handkerchief from his pocket, wet it with water from the canteen.

  “A little trail dust?” Andy laughed, and brushed at her grimy clothing.

  Jack caught her jaw with one of his big hands, and holding it gently, he wiped her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, lingering the cloth at her mouth, rubbing the tip of his thumb over her full lower lip. God, she took his breath away. He lowered his mouth to hers.

  Andy’s blood thrummed a sweet song through her veins, zipping tingles of pleasure to every part of her. Jack’s big hands captured her face gently, possessively, and she melted into his kiss, opening her mouth, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, to taste her, to let her taste him.

  Jack moaned and pulled away. “We’d better stop. I want you way too much to keep this up.”

  “I want you, too, Jack,” Andy said breathlessly. “I want you to fulfill the promise of ecstasy that your kisses have hinted at from the very first. Please, Jack.”

  Jack groaned as if she’d wounded him. His breathing was ragged, and desire smoldered in his eyes, darkening them from silver-green to a color as lush and wild as the deepest forest. He reached for the ribbon at her nape and eased it down her back, releasing her hair, running his hands through the silken chocolate tresses. Then, drawing her against his chest, he kissed her neck where the ribbon had been.

  Slowly his kisses circled her neck to her throat and he began unbuttoning her shirt. She wriggled out of her boots as Jack lavished kisses down her body, wethot touches inflaming every inch of her that was revealed with the shedding of her clothing.

  Before now, she’d only written about the heady sensations turning her insides to liquid fire, but for the first time in her life she was living her fantasies. In every way that she described her heroes giving her heroines pleasure, every stroke, every taste, every sensuous thrill, Jack was giving her now.

  Jack dropped the last of her clothes beside the boots and disrobed as he stared at her breathtaking beauty. An ugly bruise was forming on her sternum, but her bare breasts shimmered white in the dim light, their tips rosy with invitation, pouty with need. His own need throbbed for release.

  Andy’s heart picked up its melodious thrumming as she stared at Jack’s magnificent body that sported ebony hair in the most erotic places. He was a big man in every respect and the burning in her blood made Andy bold enough to rise onto her knees and play her fingertips over his muscled chest, his washboard stomach and lower, enjoying the sweet, hard feel of him, and eventually, the tangy taste of him.

  Every pleasure that she described her heroines giving her heroes, with her mouth, with her tongue, with her touch, she bestowed on Jack—until on a velvety moan, he hauled her up the full length of his body, cupped her naked bottom with both his hands, lowered her to the quilt and moved between her open thighs.

  Andy was unprepared for the thrill that swept her with their joining, unprepared for the need to have him deeper and deeper inside. She met his every thrust with equal eagerness, equal abandon, equal joy, until starbursts exploded inside her head and shot along every nerve ending, leaving her limp and happy.

  Jack was slow to move off her. He wanted to prolong their oneness…into forever. This was a first. After making love with other women, he was always restless, eager to depart. Not now. Not with Andy. He kissed her temple.

  She grinned up at him. “I didn’t know it could be like this.”

  “Neither did I.” Was this the way she would always be with him? Or did their unique situation account for her abandon? Maybe it was the simple fact that she was on the rebound and needed reaffirmation of her desirability? Whatever it was, he didn’t care to analyze. Not now. He felt himself growing hard inside her at the same time Andy twined her fingers behind his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.

  Afterward, they dressed and ate all the cheese and crackers, sharing water from the canteen, touching and talking and laughing. Until Jack asked, “Have you remembered who he is?”

  Andy’s body went col
d inside, all the warmth of their lovemaking gone in a wink, a question. Had his desire for her all been a part of his obsession? In the distance the coyote howled, sounding as forlorn as Andy suddenly felt. “No, Jack. I haven’t remembered.”

  “It’s all right. You will, sweetheart. We’d better get some sleep.” Wrapped in the blanket, the pickax within easy reach, Jack snuggled his front to Andy’s back and draped his arm over her waist. Although he soon heard her even breathing, his mind raced.

  Who would have thought he’d fall in love with the daughter of the couple whose murder had precipitated his own father’s death? What would his family say about it when he told them? Would they accept Andy for herself, love her as he did, or would they think his feelings for her were yet another phase of his obsession? The ultimate extension of his obsession?

  The thought hit him like a slap across the brain. Was that how he really felt about Andy? Or was this his ego’s way of protecting him if she decided it was Freyton she really loved?

  Suddenly Andy stirred beneath his arm, rolled over onto her back. He knew she was awake. “Can’t sleep, either?”

  She rose up on one elbow. “Jack, what if he comes back tonight hoping to catch us sleeping?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I was just lying here thinking the same thing,” Jack lied. He traced a fingertip along her jaw. Oh, the thought had crossed his mind, but it hadn’t occupied it. Now he realized it should have—instead of ways to resolve an issue about Andy that would only be decided if and when Nightmare Man was permanently out of their lives. “I guess we’d better take turns keeping watch. I’ll take the first shift.”

  “Only if you promise to wake me in a couple of hours.”

  Jack knew for certain he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open much past that. Too few calories and an abundance of lovemaking had claimed most of his energy. He’d put both of their lives in jeopardy if he decided to let her sleep, then fell asleep himself. The image chilled him.

  Right now his will to live, to more than survive, was stronger than usual. Andy’s doing. “Considering the vigorous workout you put me through, sweetheart, I’d say a couple of hours will be about the limit before I’ll need some shut-eye.”