The Outlaws: Jess Read online

  "Did you bring the soap?" Meg asked.

  He held out his hand, palm up. "It's right here. I'll bring it to you. I could use a bath myself."

  He unfastened his belt and worked his trousers down his legs. Meg let out a squawk of dismay. "Can't you wait until I'm through? This is...indecent."

  Jess gave her a hard look. "I'm sure I'm not the first naked man you've seen. Turn your head, you don't have to look."

  Meg's head whipped around, but not before she got a tantalizing glimpse of strong legs lightly furred with soft brown hair. She was relieved to note that he wore drawers, and that it looked as if he meant to keep them on to preserve her modesty.

  Meg kept her gaze averted as Jess waded into the river. He sat down behind her and she felt the soap slide over her back. She stiffened. "I can do that."

  "No, you can't." When he finished with her back, he handed her the soap. "Remember, don't get the bandage wet." Then he swam off into deeper water.

  Meg washed as best she could. She was tiring fast and needed to lie down. Jess was right. She was still weak; she couldn't have stood on her own had her life depended upon it.

  Not a moment too soon, Jess waded back to her. "Are you ready to go back?" He searched her face. "You're pale. This has been too much for you."

  "I'm...ready," Meg said. Why did her voice have to tremble so? "Did you bring a towel? There's one in my saddlebags."

  "I found it. Are you ready? Put your good arm around my neck."

  Meg obeyed, wincing when her right arm was jostled as he lifted her out of the water. He strode to the log where he'd left the towel and sat down with her in his lap. Then he picked up the towel and used it to dry her. Very carefully, so as not to disturb the bandage. When Jess's hands moved slowly down her torso, Meg plucked the towel from his hand.

  "I can finish, thank you."

  Jess gave her a lopsided grin and rose slowly, careful not to hurt her. Then he retraced his steps to camp and returned her to her bedroll. She snatched the blanket up to her neck with uncommon haste.

  "I suggest you try to sleep now. You've had enough exercise for your first day out of bed. I'll try to hunt up something for our dinner while you're napping."

  "I'm...not...tired," Meg said, stifling a yawn. "Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a moment."

  "You do that," Jess said as he walked away to retrieve his clothing from the riverbank. When he turned back to tell her he wouldn't be long, she'd already fallen asleep.

  A purple dusk was swiftly closing in when Meg awakened. A mouthwatering aroma brought a spurt of saliva to her mouth. She felt pangs of hunger for the first time since she'd been shot.

  "Did you have a good nap?" Jess asked, kneeling beside her.

  "Did I sleep long?"

  "Long enough."

  "I think I can eat something now. That's a good sign, isn't it?"

  "A very good sign. I'll bring food as soon as I change your bandage."

  He started to pull down the blanket and stopped abruptly when Meg placed a hand over his. "Do you have to?"

  "Meg, take your hand away. I've already seen everything you've got. Your body is as familiar to me as my own."

  Meg gave a soft cry and turned her head aside, unable to look him in the eye. Did he have to remind her? "Very well, do what you must."

  Jess worked swiftly, removing the old bandage and placing a new one over the wound. "You're healing nicely but you'll always bear a scar. Are you in pain? There's still some laudanum left."

  "No! No laudanum. I can bear the pain."

  "There," Jess said, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "All done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

  "I...suppose not."

  "Are you ready to eat now?"

  "Help me sit up."

  This time she held onto the blanket as he helped her into a sitting position. When she was settled comfortably against her saddle, he returned with a battered tin plate filled with savory rabbit stew.

  "I'm glad it's not broth again," Meg said, sniffing appreciatively. "Where did you get the vegetables?"

  "I found the wild onions and bought the potatoes and carrots from a farmer. I happened upon a farmhouse while I was out hunting." What he didn't say was that he'd used nearly the last of his dwindling supply of money to purchase the vegetables.

  Meg held the plate on her lap and clumsily spooned food into her mouth with her left hand. "It's very good."

  "Do you need help?"

  "No, thank you. I can manage."

  And manage she did, settling back against the saddle after she'd cleaned the plate.

  Jess took care of the dishes and returned a short time later. He dropped down beside her and felt her forehead. It was cool to the touch.

  "When can I leave?" Meg asked.

  He searched her face. "Let's play it by ear. I don't want you to suffer a relapse."

  Meg heaved an exasperated sigh. "Why should I believe anything you say? I found you with the Calders. Three brothers robbed the bank. Three, not two. Your story sounds pretty farfetched to me. How do I know you're not lying to me? Why should I believe you're Jess Gentry and not a Calder?"

  "Because of the simple fact that Danny Calder is dead. Jay told me he took a bullet during the bank robbery and died from loss of blood before they could get him to a doctor."

  Meg found it difficult to believe him despite his medical skills. "Where do you fit in?"

  "I don't. I had no idea who they were when they stumbled upon my campsite. They weren't shy about offering their names or bragging about their exploits. I was wondering how I was going to save my skin when you appeared from out of nowhere."

  "Danny Calder is dead?"

  "So they said, and I have no reason to doubt them. How can you question my skill? You wouldn't have pulled through without medical help. I'd seen many nasty infections during the war, but yours was one of the worse."

  "You were a doctor in the war?"

  He nodded.

  "You were a Rebel, weren't you?"

  Jess gave her a lopsided smile. "It's my voice, isn't it? Rafe and Sam lost all traces of their Southern accents but mine persists no matter how hard I try to lose it."

  "Who are Rafe and Sam?"

  For a moment Meg thought he wasn't going to answer, then he said, "My brothers."

  "Tell me about them. Where do you hail from?"

  Jess refused to meet her gaze. "I don't care to talk about them or myself right now. I'm more concerned about convincing you I'm Dr. Jess Gentry."

  The intensity of his feelings, his sincerity, nudged her in the direction of acceptance. But she wasn't going to let her guard down. Doctor or not, a man was still a man. Zach was the only male she trusted.

  "I suppose," she grudgingly admitted.

  "Do you want to tell me how and why you became a bounty hunter?"

  Meg went still. "I don't think so."

  "What about Zach? What's he to you?"

  "I'm tired, Jess. Good night," she said.

  Jess wisely chose not to pursue the subject. Meg's life was none of his business. Why should he care if Meg wanted to risk her life hunting down dangerous outlaws? Because you saved her life and you'd hate to think something like this could happen to her again, he told to himself.

  "Good night, Meg."

  Meg continued to improve. The following day she awakened before Jess and gingerly eased herself to a sitting position. When she succeeded with only moderate pain, she raised herself to her knees, struggled to her feet, and headed for the nearest tree, dragging up one of the blankets to cover her nakedness.

  Two steps, then two more. Her legs wobbled dangerously and she proceeded with caution. Then suddenly she felt a strong arm steadying her and she relaxed briefly against Jess's broad chest.

  "I'm fine, now, thank you."

  "Why didn't you say you had to relieve yourself?"

  Her chin notched upward. "I thought I could manage."

  His arm tightened around her waist. "You're one stubborn female. Let m
e help you. Call out when you're finished and I'll help you back."

  Meg nodded, thrilled that she'd made it this far on her own. Each step she took without help was a step closer to home and away from Jess Gentry. She didn't like the way she'd come to depend on him. There were too many things she didn't know about Jess Gentry. What was he doing out on the prairie alone? He didn't look like an outlaw, but being on the run from the law was the usual reason men refused to divulge their pasts. Jess might be a doctor, and he might have saved her life, but only a fool would trust a man who kept secrets about his past.

  Meg finally got her clothing back. Jess helped her don her shirt and slide on her trousers, though it embarrassed her to have him play her maid. She kept reminding herself that Jess was a doctor, that he was accustomed to seeing unclothed women. She would have been horrified had she known that Jess's experience in treating women was limited. He had joined the war shortly after graduating from medical school, and men made up the bulk of his patients to date.

  "When do you think I can leave?" Meg asked once she was decently clothed.

  "Another day or two. How long will it us take to reach your home?"

  "Us? Look, Jess, you don't need to accompany me. I can find my way home by myself. It's not far."

  "You're not strong enough," Jess said with a stern shake of his head. "Listen to your doctor. I'll see you home." And give that man of yours a good talking to before I leave, he thought but did not say.

  The following day Jess allowed Meg to walk around a bit. Though she moved stiffly, he was satisfied with her progress. She was still pale and drawn and appeared to have lost weight but she was so anxious to return to her Zach that he decided they could leave the following morning. He began making preparations and advised Meg of his decision.

  "We're leaving!" Meg exclaimed. "Thank God. I know Zach is frantic with worry. I rarely stay out longer than a week. If I don't have my man by then, he's probably left the area and his trail is cold."

  "I hope this teaches you a lesson," Jess said with marked sarcasm. Leave men's work to men and concentrate on something better suited to your gender. Like getting married and having children."

  Meg faced him squarely, her expression belligerent. "Are you one of those men who believe women are inferior to men?"

  Jess took one look at Meg's outraged features and sparkling green eyes and was aware of only one thing. He wanted to kiss her. Badly. Her pouting lips were pursed enticingly; he couldn't recall when he'd last kissed a beautiful woman. And make no mistake, despite her near brush with death, Meg Lincoln was beautiful, provocative, and far too tempting to resist.

  Gently, so as not to hurt her injured right side, he drew her close. "Meg, I don't think that at all. I believe men should protect women, and obviously Zach isn't doing a very good job of it. You're very beautiful, you know. You could have any man you want. Perhaps Zach isn't right for you."

  She gave him a perplexed look. "Zach is..."

  "No, I don't want to hear it. Just think about what I've said. I don't want to see you hurt again."

  Her lips hovered so close to his he could feel her sweet breath fan his cheek, see her green eyes widen with sudden awareness. Her breath hitched; he felt her body tense, and knew intuitively she experienced the same sexual attraction that made his body swell with desire.

  Damn! This was no time to form an attraction to a woman, Jess thought. Meg was still weak and vulnerable and didn't need his lustful inclinations adding to her woes. But her lips! All he had to do was lean forward and...

  The kiss was inevitable, but what happened during the kiss stunned him. The intimacy was searing, intoxicating. He expected her to draw away from him, but she shocked him when her lips softened and melted against his. The next step came naturally as he nudged her lips apart and slipped his tongue inside to explore the inner contours of her mouth. His arm slipped around her waist. A groan of pleasure reverberated from his throat as the tips of her unbound breasts brushed his chest and her loins meshed with his. He heard her whimper as he deepened the kiss.

  "Meg...you taste...so damn...good."

  His words must have awakened her survival instincts for she broke off the kiss and shoved him away with her good arm.

  With an effort he returned to the hard clarity of reality, releasing her instantly. "I'm sorry," he said, backing away. "I don't know what got into me."

  "You're a man," she said with scathing contempt. "It's what men do."

  Meg was truly frightened. For the first time in her life she'd experienced desire and she didn't like it. She'd lost control, something she rarely did. When Jess kissed her a ripple of heat had radiated through her body. She felt as if she were drowning in feelings, feelings that had no place in her life. To make matters worse, Jess's kiss had been no chaste kiss, it was the kiss of a man with vast experience in the ways of the flesh. An expert lover who could give her things she'd only allowed herself to dream about.

  What did she know about sexual hunger, or desire, or hot, insistent kisses? Very little, and she had no desire to experience those things with a man she knew nothing about.

  "Is that what you think, Meg? That all men are vile creatures intent upon their own pleasure?"

  "Of course. You know it's true."

  "What about Zach?" he challenged.

  "Zach is...different. He'd never hurt me."

  "Some man must have hurt you badly," Jess said. "I'm sorry. You deserve better than that. Forgive me, it won't happen again."

  "It had better not," Meg said.

  Why did her voice have to tremble? Meg wondered as she turned away. Why did this particular man have the power to reduce her to a mindless puddle of flesh? She had whimpered, for heaven's sake!

  And another thing. She didn't like his assumption that Zach was her lover. Furthermore, it was none of his business. Jess was a doctor, he had saved her life, but he held no special place in her life. As soon as he returned her to Zach, he would ride off into the sunset and become a dim memory. If she remembered him at all it would be whenever she looked at the wound she carried on her chest.

  Meg rested all that day, preparing for the ordeal of mounting a horse and riding for the first time since her injury. The wound was still painful; the merest jostle sent waves of pain radiating through her chest, her back, and down her right arm.

  That evening she made her way to the river alone to bathe. Jess didn't follow and she was grateful. She didn't know how she would react if he tried to kiss her again. She was confused. Normally she couldn't stand any man around her but Zach. After what Arlo had put her through she'd wanted no part of any man. Had she been wrong to lump all men in the same category? Not really, she decided. Her healthy contempt for men is what made her a good bounty hunter. That and Zach's expert training.

  That night Meg and Jess ate a meal of leftovers and retired early. She knew tomorrow would be grueling but looked forward to going home.

  Sleep didn't come easily for Jess. He couldn't get the kiss out of his head. He relived it over and over. Meg's lips were soft, clinging to his with sweet surrender for the space of a heartbeat. He wondered what had happened to make her despise men...and what made Zach so special.

  It wasn't like him to take advantage of a weak woman. And that's he'd done no matter how he tried to excuse himself. Meg was his patient, for godsake! Being a doctor made his transgression even more inexcusable. But, damn, he'd wanted Meg in every way a man wanted a woman. Had he been away from civilization too long? Deprived of female company longer than he'd like to contemplate?

  His last thought before succumbing to sleep was that he wanted to kiss Meg again, and how immensely he'd enjoy it.

  They dismantled camp early the next morning. Jess lifted Meg into her saddle and handed her the reins. She gripped them in her left hand and slowly straightened, reeling under the pain of unaccustomed exertion.

  "Are you all right?" Jess asked, his voice taut with worry.

  "I...can manage."

  "Where are we
going?"

  "Head for Cheyenne. I live north of the city, beyond the railroad tracks. Zach built the house on land he bought before he... Never mind."

  "I won't pry, Meg, if that's what you're worried about. Are you ready?"

  Meg nodded. Jess took the lead. "Holler out if you need to stop. If I had my way we'd stay here until you regained your full strength."

  "I'm fine," Meg said. "Weakness doesn't catch outlaws, or put food on the table. The Calders escaped but there are other criminals out there with prices on their heads."

  And I'm one of them, Jess silently ruminated. Aloud he said, "I'd hoped you'd learned your lesson. Didn't your latest narrow escape teach you anything?"

  "It taught me to be more careful next time. And there will be a next time, Dr. Gentry. It's all I know."

  "There must be something else you can do."

  "I didn't like the choices," Meg said wryly. "You don't know Cheyenne. It's a rough town with little available for women except...well, let's just say I refuse to debase myself."

  "What about Zach? Can't he provide a living for you?"

  "No."

  Her answer was so emphatic that Jess let it drop. He had to see Meg's lover for himself before passing judgment.

  They rode in silence for several miles. Jess thought Meg was doing extremely well until he saw her slump over in the saddle. With a curse he rode up beside her and placed an arm around her waist to steady her.

  "I thought I told you to let me know when you needed to stop," Jess said gruffly.

  "I...didn't realize..."

  "Hold on, I'm going to bring you over to my horse."

  "That's not..."

  Her protest was ignored as Jess swung her over to his horse and seated her before him, gripping her firmly between his muscular thighs. "Put your left arm around my waist," Jess said, "and try to relax. Will your horse follow?"

  "Daisy will follow me anywhere."

  "Good. Sleep if you can."