Texas Baby Sanctuary Page 9
She moaned and tried to turn again but he held her steady.
“You’re a sexy, powerful woman, Grace,” he whispered.
His fingers slipped down her back. So slowly she felt like screaming. She sure hoped she knew what was coming. And coming soon.
Suddenly her bra was undone, sliding across her body and joining her jeans on the floor. Now she was almost naked and he still had on all his clothes.
Grace had no idea how to ask for what she wanted. What she needed. She’d forgotten how. Or maybe it was more like she had never known how.
Now she was left feeling like a foolish virgin without a clue what to do or say. Pretty funny, really. A virgin with a nearly one-year-old son.
Her shoulders sagged at the half-baked joke. The joke on her. A decent man like Sam deserved someone who was whole and could make him happy—in every way.
The hand that had been slipping down her back gently gripped her shoulder. From behind her she heard his boots hitting the carpet—one after the other. Then the whooshing of material as he must’ve removed his clothes. The next thing she knew, he was surrounding her with his long legs, still encased in jeans. After he snuggled up close behind her, she felt his naked, hairy chest against her back. So he’d removed his shirt. But why not everything?
Before she had a chance to become too curious, his hands came around her rib cage, his fingers lingering on her breasts. With just the barest of touches, her whole body jerked in response.
“Easy does it.” He stopped moving his fingers, resting his palms against her nipples and letting their gentle warmth seep into her skin. He waited, until finally she thought she might burn up with the fever.
“Sam, hurry. I…”
“I won’t hurt you, Grace. Patience. This is for you and it’s better slow.”
Sam surprised her. Jose had never touched her that way, and had never bothered to speak to her at all. He’d always been in a hurry. Ripping and pawing at her until he got what he wanted.
Sam’s hands began lightly stroking her nipples as if her breasts were made of the softest silk. She soon lost herself in the sensations consuming her, feeling hot and sexy yet safe at the same time.
She wanted to touch Sam in return, to somehow give him the same sort of wonderful erotic massage. But he wouldn’t let her turn. All right, if this was how he insisted it go, for now she would try to relax and enjoy. Grabbing on to his thighs with a vicelike grip, she leaned back against his chest and closed her eyes.
“Relax, beautiful,” he whispered close to her ear. “You’re too tense. Let yourself go loose. You deserve a little pleasure.”
Suddenly it occurred to her that it had been a long time since a man had seen her naked. And that man had barely stopped long enough to look. From Sam’s vantage point, he could see everything.
But she wasn’t the least embarrassed or nervous with Sam and wanted him to keep going. So she let loose of his jeans and flexed her hands, trying not to fist them again.
His fingers glided down her chest, circled her belly button and slipped under the waistband of her very plain panties. Now she felt embarrassed that she hadn’t thought to buy at least one pair of sexy underwear. She bit her lip, closed her eyes and fought to stay loose.
Don’t stop now.
This slow torture was…was… Pure pleasure.
At a loss for words, she held her breath. Sam’s fingers tangled in the curls at the apex of her thighs and her legs fell open—all by themselves. Really.
Would he think her too wanton? Too needy? At this point it didn’t much matter what he thought. Just as long as he kept going.
With the gentlest of touches, one of his hands cupped her breast while the other stroked the tender place between her legs. She wouldn’t mind if he speeded things up—just a little. But he kept stroking. Slowly. Softly. Patiently. His fingers touched her, over and over, adding electricity and warmth with every pass. The ache inside her turned to desperation.
Squirming, her hips lifted off the bed. She felt the tension curling up to capture her entire body. How was she supposed to sit still through this?
She gave herself permission to moan. He couldn’t mind that, could he? But as pitiful little sounds began to emerge from her throat, she realized this whole experience was unique. Sam actually seemed to like hearing her sounds of pleasure.
He began murmuring encouragement and hushed words of endearment, but she could barely focus on anything, save for the feelings building inside her.
Sliding one finger inside her warm depths, Sam began teasing her with his moves, in and out, pushing her toward some higher plane. But it still didn’t seem like enough. She wanted him to feel these wondrous sensations right along with her.
Frustrated, she was helpless to beg for more. Helpless to do anything but rock her hips and listen to her own moans growing louder and louder.
“Please, Sam…”
His touches remained steady, tender, until she thought she might actually go crazy. The aching in her groin and the electricity running up and down her limbs built toward something just out of reach. Something totally unexpected but desperately sought.
Her every feeling now seemed brand-new and magnified tenfold. She was growing more and more edgy, reaching out for some elusive gate to the unknown.
Then without warning, Grace exploded. A blast that rocketed her off center. Stars burst behind her eyelids, and it was all she could do to hold it together and concentrate on the most amazing feelings ever.
* * *
When she came back down to reality, Sam was cradling her in his arms. He swept light kisses across her face and mouth, making her feel wanted and safe enough to continue lying still. Luxuriating in the feelings as the static pulses continued bouncing inside, she sighed aloud.
But she’d expected more ardent moves from him. More insistent. He didn’t appear to be in any rush.
In another moment she realized his kisses were much too tame, not passionate in the least. “Sam? Don’t you want…?”
“Another time. It was my pleasure to show you that you are indeed a beautiful woman—in every way.”
“I never knew it could be so wonderful.”
“I guessed.”
She lifted her head to look in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“No,” he said softly. “Thank you. I haven’t been in the presence of such peace and beauty in a very long time.”
Sam was so unlike Jose it stunned her for the moment. He was unselfish. And generous to a fault.
All of a sudden she felt greedy and selfish. And she didn’t like the feeling at all. “But…seriously, Sam. When do you get a turn?”
“Nothing says I have to. I’m good.”
“I’ll say you are. But…” Had she changed enough over the past few weeks to ask for—no—to demand what she wanted?
“What if I wanted another turn? This time my treat.” Well, guess that demand answered her question. She held her breath and waited for an answer.
A smile broke the serious look on his face. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had a more compelling offer. Sounds good to me.”
“Really? When?” She rose up on her elbow and tried to ignore the fact that she was still half-naked.
The same sad, remote look she’d noticed over the past days filled his eyes for a moment. But then he blinked it away. And this time when his gaze landed on her, the look he gave her was so erotic it ignited a bonfire at her core.
“There’s something we need to take care of first.”
“What?” She hoped against hope he wasn’t about to say they had to get rid of Jose Serrano before anything else happened. That jerk had ruled her every move for far too long.
“We need to make a trip to town,” he said with a wry grin. “I think it’s time you got yourself a decent pair of boots. And I need to stop in to visit my brother Gage. Travis tells me he’s been back in town from a business trip for a few days, but I haven’t heard a word from him.”
Those didn’t
seem like good enough reasons for why they couldn’t continue what they’d started right now. Not in her opinion. “When are we going?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“But that means we have until Mikey comes back here tonight. Why couldn’t we…?”
“In the first place, we have one more stop to make tomorrow. I wouldn’t be much of a bodyguard if I didn’t make sure we had protection. This—” he waved a hand between them “—came as a…surprise and I wasn’t prepared.”
“Oh.” He wanted to protect them?
He must know she’d been checked over by every specialist the FBI had when she’d first escaped Jose and was declared physically fit—if not mentally stable. And as her guardian, he was well aware of her currently self-imposed celibate state.
So he was truly concerned about her welfare. How about that? The man was too good.
Probably too good for her in the long haul. But Grace wasn’t thinking of the long haul at the moment. In a few days or a couple of weeks, she planned to disappear again anyway. But before she went, she intended to find that magic edge with Sam at least once more.
And that time, he would be going over the edge along with her. She’d never felt so sure of anything in her whole life.
* * *
Outside on the porch Sam took a couple of deep breaths. He’d had to leave Grace to take her shower alone before he weakened and joined her.
Staring down at her filthy shoes, he decided that removing crap would make a perfect occupation for a man who’d apparently lost his mind. He picked the shoes up by their laces and walked around the house to the hose.
While pouring water over them, he stretched his shoulders and stared up at the sky. The first of the evening stars were already visible and a half-moon had made its early appearance on the horizon.
His mind went back to a few moments ago with Grace. The trust she had given him was astounding. It had touched him in a way nothing had for as long as he could remember. Oh, sure, before tonight, she’d trusted him to be a good protector. But that was only his job. This time she’d turned over her body to his care.
Despite his multiple misgivings about his own steadfastness, he refused to let her down. He would not disappear from her life the way he’d done to his own family years ago.
Maybe he could change. Maybe he’d already started to change.
Putting away the hose and carting the soaked shoes back to the porch to dry, Sam decided to take the time to clean the shotgun, too. Tomorrow would be soon enough for her to learn that particular lesson. And tonight he thought she needed a break.
He sat on his mother’s rocking chair and worked at cleaning his childhood gun. Darkness engulfed him under the shelter of the porch roof, but he didn’t need light to find every inch of the weapon. He could’ve cleaned the old Remington in his sleep.
Familiar nighttime noises: the rustling of crisp breezes through the cottonwoods around the house; the first of the katydids getting ready for their spring mating; the soft snuffling of horses in the corrals, took his imagination back to his boyhood and the many nights he’d spent out on the plain with his father’s ranch hands. The only things missing tonight were the sounds of cattle softly stirring through the darkness. But in his mind he could hear them still.
As he worked and listened, the soft, familiar sounds of evening changed their tone. The winds suddenly seemed ominous. Peering into the distance, Sam stared through the deep night shadows and thought he saw movement. Every leaf, every blade of grass appeared like a specter in his mind.
It wasn’t possible that Serrano’s men could’ve found them so quickly. And even if they somehow guessed he’d brought Mikey and Grace to Chance, they would play hell getting on the ranch without being stopped. Too many gates and too many ranch hands who knew better than to allow strangers on the land.
Yet as impossible as he believed it was, his gut told him Serrano was getting close. Tomorrow morning Sam would have to make a few attempts at disguise so they could go into town undetected by any strangers.
A few other ideas for misdirection came into his mind, too. Along with his earlier idea for obtaining another gun for Grace. A little more security around the house might be in order, as well.
The hair on his arms stood on end as even the insects went silent. Perhaps her idea of confronting the monster by being prepared would be for the best. Meet the enemy straight out and get it over with.
Because whatever else Sam did or did not do to prepare, he felt another confrontation was coming. And coming soon.
Chapter 13
Hector Robles drove a pickup along a ranch-to-market road near Chance, Texas, in the early spring sunshine. Hector’s partner, Pedro, sat shotgun. The truck belonged to Chance County rancher big Jim Ed Thacker.
The men were performing duties for their new jobs, running errands for Thacker’s Double-T ranch. Being ranch gophers didn’t pay much, but then the work gave them both plenty of reason to meet the people of Chance and hear local gossip.
Almost to Main Street, Hector downshifted and said, “I think we need different jobs. Something that gets us closer to the interior of the Chance ranch.”
“Then you believe that rumor of a baby living at the old Chance homestead is true? You haven’t informed Senor Serrano.”
Hector didn’t bother answering. Sometimes he got sick and tired of explaining things to Pedro.
“How do you plan on getting close to the old homestead?” Pedro leaned forward in his seat until the seat belt cut into his thick neck. “That casa is supposed to be miles inside the last gates. And word is, the background of everybody who gets hired out there is checked and double-checked. Seems to me, they act like they’re expecting trouble.”
“Of course they are. That’s what makes me so sure the rumors are true.”
But Hector was ten moves ahead of whoever made the rules for the Bar-C. He had it all figured out. Now he simply had to put his plan into action.
“Admit it,” Pedro whined. “They’re too smart for us. And Serrano will kill us if we can’t capture his baby alive.”
There were times when Hector would be grateful to Serrano for putting a bullet hole between Pedro’s eyes. First, however, he needed his partner’s added gunpower.
To have any hope of even getting that far, Hector needed to find a way of keeping his damned partner’s big mouth shut. “Don’t talk anymore. Don’t say a word. Especially around strangers. Let me do all the talking—and all the thinking.”
Pedro shut up, but his stare was sending threats.
Okay, Hector wouldn’t mind killing his idiot partner even if Serrano didn’t do it for him.
Right after they safely tucked the baby into the boss’s waiting arms. Hector figured it wouldn’t be long now.
* * *
As they made their last stop at the Feed and Seed Store, Hector got the news he’d been waiting to hear from one of the stockboys. A contractor was in town hiring temporary hands for spring cutting on the Bar-C.
Spring on a huge place like the Bar-C, where they raised sheep and angora goats in addition to quarter horses and cattle, was the busiest time of year. Sheep and goats needed to be sheared. Cows needed cutting and weaning, castrating and branding. Horses would have to be broke, castrated and earmarked.
There’d be plenty of work for fifty or more good men in addition to the regular ranch employees. And as dull as Pedro was, he was good with a rope and a horse. Hector, too, had been raised on an estancia before he’d migrated to Los Angeles and joined Serrano’s gang. He could handle any job on the ranch that they chose to give him.
Ranch work was hard but it would give them the opportunity to learn the lay of the land and look for an opening to reach the baby.
“Are we going to the diner to apply for jobs?”
Hector could hear his partner’s stomach growling from here but the diner was clear on the other side of town. “Yes. But we apply for work first—then eat. Keep your mind on the prize. Believe me, the pat
ron will know if you don’t.”
“But Serrano is in Mexico.”
“Don’t count on that being true. Serrano is a smart man who has lots of friends in the U.S. I wouldn’t put it past him to be in hiding here in Texas. And watching us.”
Pedro actually turned his head to check through all the pickup’s windows, looking for any sign of the boss.
Hector didn’t for one minute believe Serrano could get over the border with every lawman in America looking for him. But he wouldn’t put it past the smart drug lord to hire more people to follow them around, waiting for any slipup. He and Pedro needed to be alert.
Hector had to park down the block from the diner. Apparently many men had heard about the contractor. He would have to be smarter and stronger to get hired.
As he jumped from the pickup’s cab and his boots hit the asphalt street, Hector couldn’t help but checking around himself—just to see if anyone was watching.
He didn’t notice anyone or anything out of place. But as he turned back to head for the diner, he caught a flash of a sleek black 4x4 dual cab pickup driving down the block running parallel to Main. It was the vehicle he had been trying to find for weeks.
After doing his homework in Fort Stockton, Hector had a feeling that truck was the one he’d been seeking. The one and only truck sold on the day the woman and baby had disappeared from town. And what’s more, the same 4x4 had been paid for in cash. That told the story as far as Hector was concerned. Who paid cash these days but someone on the run?
It was a thrill knowing he’d been right. The prize was within his reach. But he would not chase after any phantom trucks this morning. Too many witnesses. Too many chances for screwups.
No, Hector would bide his time. Get the job on the Bar-C. Waiting another few days, enough time to make a plan, would be smarter than rushing in.
He wouldn’t call Serrano just yet, either. Hector planned on winning. And Serrano was not known as a patient man.
Chapter 14
Grace wasn’t crazy about the way her clothes smelled. Sam had insisted on her wearing his younger brothers’ old jacket and hat from when they’d been teenagers. The clothes were a fair fit, but the smell of moth balls was starting to make her gag.