Distant Thunder Page 14

  But he couldn’t let her go, either.

  The cape he held swirled and snapped in a sudden gust of wind when he swept it around her shoulders. As she clasped the collar and fastened the metal hook, he pulled her hair free of the fastenings.

  Fairy-spun silk could not have felt so soft next to his skin. Even in the open air, he was sure he could smell wildflowers and rainwater.

  Susan reveled in his touch, closing her eyes as if to savor the contact. The guilt she’d felt in the past was gone. Daniel’s caresses felt so wonderful, so right. She tipped her head back, filling his palm with the warmth of her skull and rich strands the color of fire.

  Daniel knew he should walk away from the temptation that instant. He knew he didn’t deserve her—and she certainly didn’t deserve a man like him. But he couldn’t resist. His hands roamed down her back to pull her tightly against him. His mouth crushed hers, his tongue plunging inside to sweep the moist velvet interior. Then, so that he wouldn’t frighten her with the depth of his desire, he withdrew.

  “Let’s get back.” If Susan noted how he had avoided the word “home,” she didn’t comment. They both knew she had no place she could call her own—not the orphanage or the convent. She’d left her security and her childhood in the sturdy walls of the convent, just as she’d abandoned the thick woolen scarf.

  Chapter 17

  Susan tapped on Daniel’s open door and paused. A day had passed since their embrace outside the convent walls. Immediately she noted the changes. Where before Daniel had settled into the room as if he belonged there, now it had the appearance of being inhabited by a guest. His clothes had been tightly folded and tucked away in his saddlebags. His coat, holster, and saddle gear were stacked neatly by the door. Even the bed was made to perfection, looking strangely out of place with its military corners and taut covers. The cool precision of his room was echoed in his mood. Somehow, in the space of a few hours, Daniel had begun to draw away from her emotionally. He’d become the distant detached Pinkerton agent.

  Daniel had pulled the rocker up to the window to catch the last pink rays of sunlight streaming through the lace curtain. On the floor around him lay the disassembled components of his Peacemaker revolver. He had apparently just finished cleaning his rifle as well. Susan watched as he wiped an oiled cloth along the Winchester’s barrel and leaned it against the wall, then reached for the parts of the smaller weapon strewn at his feet.

  “Preparing for war?” she teased.

  “Maybe.” His reply held no answering humor.

  Susan stepped inside and, after a moment’s deliberation, closed the door behind her. For the first time in over ten years, she did not wear the black uniform of a novice. Since she still felt conspicuous, with her bare head and “civilian” clothes, she had borrowed one of Esther’s gray day dresses, but for all of the attention it had garnered from Daniel, she might as well have worn sackcloth.

  “You didn’t come to supper,” she said.

  “I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Esther was worried.”

  He shrugged.

  “She’s gone back into town. Mr. Gibby has taken a turn for the worse, and Dr. Patterson needs her help. Donovan took her in the sleigh.”

  Daniel nodded to show he’d heard, but he still didn’t speak.

  “I brought you a tray.” She set it on the dresser. “Chicken and dumplings. Your favorite.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You seem a little distant.” He’d been so quiet and withdrawn all day, she wondered if she was the cause. Ever since they had returned to the orphanage and explained to the Reeds that Susan had decided to leave the order, Daniel had been especially reserved.

  “Are you worried about what people will say now that I’ve left Saint Francis?” She waited, then added, “I don’t want you to think that because I’ve left the convent you need to take care of me. I’ll be fine. I’ve asked Esther and Donovan if I can stay here until I find another teaching position. They didn’t appear to mind.”

  “I’m sure they were delighted. They’ve missed you.”

  “Perhaps, but I can’t help thinking I’m just another mouth to feed.” That feeling grated her pride, but there was little else she could do for the time being.

  Daniel began snapping the pieces of his revolver together. While he was bent over his task, she took a roll of muslin strips and a jar of ointment from the tray. “Essie told me I should check your wound and change the bandage.”

  That comment captured his attention. He looked up at her. This time he didn’t question the wisdom of the idea. He set his weapon aside and stood. “Fine. I assume you want the shirt off.”

  For some strange reason Susan had the impression that she, and not his injury, would be under careful scrutiny.

  “That would make my job easier.”

  “Glad to oblige, but …” He held up his palms to show her that he was covered with oil and grime.

  “Oh. I see.” Rosy patches stained Susan’s cheeks, but she refused to cower away from the challenge Daniel had thrown down.

  She reached for the buttons on his chambray shirt. One by one, she freed them from their holes, leaving a ribbon of bare flesh in her wake.

  It had been days since she had seen him so intimately exposed. She had forgotten how quickly a glimpse of his chest could cause her heart to thud, her limbs to tremble. Daniel Crocker was a beautiful man. Firm, well-formed, muscular.

  “Now what?” Daniel asked, once the placket gaped open. He watched her in tense anticipation. He’d never thought she would accept his challenge. He’d assumed she would back away, just as she had so many times in the past.

  “I think my task would be easier if you took your shirt completely off.”

  Her blush of discomfiture deepened. He loved to see it. Her eyes sparkled like jewels. Her lips were unconsciously parted and inviting. But …

  He retreated behind the emotional barriers he’d erected the day before when Susan had announced she’d left the order. He couldn’t take advantage of her right now. She was vulnerable and a little lost. She didn’t know where the future would take her. And the only thing Daniel knew for sure was that he could never have her.

  Determined to appear unflustered, she walked behind him to take hold of his collar. “I’ll help you remove this, since your hands are dirty.” Her cool, schoolmarmish attitude deserted her the second her knuckles touched his skin. Darts of excitement skittered over her nerves like drops of water on a hot griddle.

  Because she tried not to touch him, it took her several seconds to draw the shirt away from his shoulders. She could see the muscles contract beneath the sliding caress of the fabric, and the sight fascinated her. But she quickly abandoned the chore as soon as the fabric pooled around his hips, leaving his arms imprisoned in his sleeves.

  As she circled him once again, she blurted, “You’re very fit, Daniel.”

  He didn’t answer, but she knew by the way he watched her so intently that he wasn’t completely unaffected.

  She bent to the strips of muslin wrapped low around his abdomen and discovered she had abandoned her efforts at disrobing Daniel much too soon. Part of the bandage was still covered by the waistband of his trousers.

  “I don’t suppose you could …” Her request died before it could even be uttered, and firming her resolve, she reached for the top button to his pants. Her bravado wavered, but she forced herself to continue.

  He tried to stop her, but his arms were effectively pinned at his sides.

  She ended any protest he might have made by meeting his gaze head-on and saying, “Don’t, Daniel. Don’t stop me. I need to do this. I need to know that I can.” There was no denying the desperate edge to her words.

  Though the stance of his body remained as hard and tensile as steel, she sensed that he had relented.

  By the time the button gaped open and she
had removed the bandage from his waist, Susan was wondering if she had accepted more of a challenge than she could handle. Her hands shook uncontrollably; her knees threatened to buckle.

  She saw that Daniel’s wound was healing quite nicely. The skin had knitted together and had lost most signs of infection. Only the angry edge around the cut and the string of black stitches testified to its fragile recovery.

  “It looks better. Much better.”

  When Daniel would have spoken, she ignored him and began coating the area with one of Essie’s ointments. Unconsciously, she let her fingers stroke him. Lovingly. Tenderly.

  Daniel groaned. His hands balled into fists, and he fought to be free of the sleeves. “Susan, don’t!”

  His arms sprang loose and snapped around her back. Broad, oil-slick palms spread over her shoulder blades while his mouth swooped down to take her own.

  Immediately her lips parted, and his tongue swept inside. Susan admitted to herself that this was exactly what she had been waiting for since she’d stepped outside the convent. She’d needed to be sure that she could enjoy Daniel’s embrace without experiencing the guilt she’d always felt. She’d wanted to revel in the sensations he aroused without thinking about the spiritual consequences. And although the emotions that had stormed her prior to her resignation had been powerful, they seemed paltry compared to the rush of heat and light that stormed through her now. She felt no shame, only a rush of pleasure.

  “I tried.” He broke away from her and pressed a string of kisses down her throat. She gasped, never having known that particular area could be so sensitive. “I tried to stay away. I know you need time to adjust to all that’s happened, and I know the last thing you need is the complication of someone like me in your life, but I can’t stop what’s happening. I can’t leave you alone again.”

  She clung to him and pressed herself into the warmth of his broad chest. Like a starving person, she greedily consumed the sensual food he provided her.

  “I need you,” he whispered next to her ear.

  “Yes.”

  “But I don’t want to frighten you.”

  The black fear lingered on the edges of her consciousness, taunting her, tormenting her. “You won’t.”

  He stroked her hair and tilted her head. “I could. And I probably will—but I need to know that you trust me enough to let me help you.”

  “Daniel, what are you saying?”

  He trembled on the precipice between peril and safety, between total commitment and solitude.

  “I want you.”

  Daniel rubbed her back, bringing her hips firmly into contact with his own. Susan held still, afraid to move any closer, but unwilling to step back.

  She felt so good in his arms that Daniel wondered how he had ever thought he could stay away from her. She belonged to him. She belonged with him.

  Now he wanted to stay with her, to see each experience firsthand.

  “Susan, I don’t want you to stay here at the orphanage. I want you to come with me.”

  She opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak. She didn’t know exactly what Daniel was offering. She didn’t know if he wanted a companion or simply felt sorry for her. But judging by the fire in his eyes and the familiar sweep of his hands on her hips, she had a fair idea.

  “Do you trust me to take care of you?” he asked.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Will you come with me?” He waited for her answer. If she refused, he didn’t know what he would do, but he couldn’t let her go. If she agreed, he would do anything, anything, to provide for her.

  “Yes.”

  He wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. He’d been so afraid she would refuse, he’d almost missed her acceptance.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’ll go with you.”

  He shouted in delight and hauled her close, lifting her off her feet. “You won’t regret it, I promise. You and I have always made a good team. Tomorrow we’ll …” He broke off and set her on the floor. “Damn, I forgot about Kutter.”

  “Kutter?”

  “My boss. I was supposed to meet with him yesterday, but Braxton’s message slipped my mind.” Without warning, he released her and snatched his rifle and coat. “I’ll be back in an hour, two at the most.”

  “But what—”

  He caught her and pressed a quick heated kiss on her mouth. “Trust me,” he said again. “I’ve got to talk to Kutter about resigning from my job with the Pinkertons.”

  “Resigning!”

  “Then you and I will start making some plans.”

  “But, Daniel—”

  He kissed her again, this time more slowly, lingeringly, sweetly. “I’ll be back. You watch the house. Hem that pretty dress Essie gave you—I think I’ve ruined this one.” He touched the curve of her cheek. “I don’t ever want to see you in black or gray again, you hear?”

  She grinned. “I hear.”

  She followed him onto the back stoop, receiving two more kisses for her effort. And as he rode into the night, she couldn’t help thinking that for the first time in as long as she could remember, the anger had faded from Daniel’s features and he appeared happy. Completely and utterly happy.

  His joy lit a warm fire deep in her belly, a blaze that fought with the cool dregs of her fear.

  Chapter 18

  He huddled in the cold, his hands numb, his feet nearly senseless. Days had passed since he’d encountered Gibby in the alchemist’s shop, long endless days of silence and anticipation. In all that time no word had come of Crocker’s weakening condition. Life had continued unaffected until finally he’d decided to check on the Pinkerton himself.

  Diamond-chip stars shed splinters of light on the snow. He watched the orphanage. He waited, to no avail. Hours passed. Hours filled with a burning purpose. Then suddenly he had proof that Crocker had escaped the poison’s effects once again: the Pinkerton emerged from the building like an avenging warrior. His stride was firm, his stance purposeful.

  The pleasure on Crocker’s face caused an ache to curl around the man’s heart. No. No! Why had Crocker chosen not to take the powder? How could he have been so lucky—or so wise? By now he should have been weak and shaky, but judging by the sure way he mounted his horse and rode away, he had somehow discovered the entire plan.

  The voices in the man’s head began again, chastising him for his failure. A fury rose in him, so thick and black that he couldn’t think. Too much pain had resulted from Crocker’s sins. Something had to be done. He had planned on Daniel’s weakened condition to sway the odds. Now he would have to revise his plans. He would have to employ every morsel of information he had gathered over the months to lure Crocker into his trap.

  His limbs were immobile from the icy moisture that had seeped through his clothing, but he managed to push himself to his feet and stagger away from the barn.

  His months of planning would serve him well. He knew everything there was to know about the Pinkerton: his hiding spots, his strategies, how he handled the pressures of his job, and what he did on his own time. He also knew how to bring Daniel to his knees. Crocker would pay dearly for each breath he took. This time the Pinkerton’s little nun would serve as a tool. He would hurt her, hurting Daniel even more in the process.

  In one week Baby Floyd would be brought into Ashton. On that same day Crocker would learn the meaning of vengeance and betrayal. He would suffer as no man had ever suffered. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.

  Only then would he be allowed to die.

  The stranger hobbled toward his mount. Stinging pins of feeling pricked at his legs but did not weaken his determination to see his plans through once and for all. The Pinkerton agent had bested him one too many times. Now he would drag Crocker into hell and beyond. He had already laid the groundwork. He had gathered an army of men. Tonight he would meet with them and revise his plans. Before the end of the week he would close the trap so quickly that Crocker w
ould never foresee it, nor would he escape it once it was sprung.

  Daniel cursed in impatience. With each mile that passed, he wished that his life could have been more like that of other men. He wished he could rise with the sun, spend his days on the land, and pass his evenings with a beautiful woman.

  But now he planned to make that happen. With Susan. He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to realize that they were meant to stay together. Perhaps he had needed her to leave the convent before allowing himself to think of such a thing. Now that she had done so, he couldn’t push the idea from his mind.

  There were a dozen things he needed to do to see their future secured. He would have to check on his land, find employment, buy stock and supplies. But first he had to sever his ties with the Pinkertons.

  As he rode, Daniel damned every obstacle that stood in his way: the icy wind, the darkness, and most of all, Jedidiah Kutter for trying to pull him back into a world he wanted to forget.

  He had to admit that even contemplating a change in his way of life scared him to death. He’d always lived alone, never depending on anyone but himself. But he couldn’t go back to his old ways. He had to do this, now. While he still had the guts to throw his solitary existence away and learn to love a woman.

  Hunching deeper into the coarse fur of his coat, he nudged his horse to a greater speed and rode through the trees to the main road. There he followed the double line of railroad tracks until he reached the fork where the Humboldt and Western ran east through a narrow pass and the Wasatch Territorial ran south.

  The gelding galloped beneath the causeway built over the creekbed, and Daniel veered sharply to the left into a steep rocky canyon, following Braxton’s directions. Pulling on the reins to slow his mount, Daniel moved quietly, cautiously. Once through the pass, he scanned the jumbled rocks around him with a care and suspicion that had become second nature.

  When he reached a boulder that obstructed the trail, Daniel paused. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he issued four short whistles, then waited. When the signal was returned, he nudged Chief with his heels and carefully slid his rifle from the scabbard on his saddle.