Redwing's Lady. Stella Bagwell
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His brown hand wrapped around her upper arm, and without a word he led her over to the two areas he’d inspected a few moments earlier. “See, your son was standing here. There’re the imprints of his boot heels. His horse was here beside him. You can see the tracks of the gelding’s shoes where he stood. But then, here the ground is scraped where the hooves dug deep. The horse was spooked or agitated and took off at a gallop up the mountain.”
Yes. Now that he’d shown her, she could see the story, too. “You’re right,” she replied as her mind whirled with possibilities, none of which was pleasant. “But couldn’t Aaron have mounted up before the horse ran away? How do you know he’s on foot?”
“Because the boot heels follow the horses tracks. See there?”
He pointed to a dim trail winding through the trees. The horse’s hoof prints were visible to her, but not her son’s. Yet she didn’t argue with the deputy. She’d already learned her lesson about that.
“No. But I’ll take your word for it.” She turned her gaze on his face and suddenly she was acutely aware of his fingers pressed around her arm. He was standing only inches away and she could feel heat radiating from his body and the callused skin of his hand against her flesh. His dark face gleamed with sweat, which had also soaked a V shape on the chest of his khaki shirt. His arms and shoulders and thighs were all heavily muscled, and she instinctively knew that he was a strong man. Both physically and mentally. The fact helped to reassure her confidence in his ability as a lawman.
Concern darkened Daniel’s brown eyes as they flicked over her face, and then slowly he reached a hand up to her cheek and pushed back a loose strand of red hair.
“You look very tired, Maggie. Why don’t you stay here and let me ride on?”
She somehow managed to find the strength to straighten her shoulders. “No. You might need me.”
He didn’t say anything, but his fingers continued to rest against her cheek. His eyes probed deeply into hers.
Maggie couldn’t speak. She felt herself being drawn to him. And though she tried to stop the forward motion of her body, she stepped into his arms, anyway.
He seemed to understand that she needed human contact and that she was longing for a pair of strong arms to hold her. He drew her deeper into the circle of his arms and, with one hand against the back of her hair, pressed her head against his shoulder.
“Oh, Daniel,” she said with a broken sob, “I’m so scared.”
“Don’t. Don’t cry, Maggie,” he murmured. “Everything is going to be fine. Aaron is a strong boy, and he’s comfortable with the outdoors.”
The fabric beneath her cheek smelled of sun and wind and a faint musky scent that was utterly masculine and uniquely his. She drew it into her nostrils as her hands clung to his strong back.
“But…he’s…he’s still going up the mountain!” she exclaimed brokenly.
His hand slid up and down her back in a slow, soothing movement. “He has to be getting tired. He’ll stop soon. And then we’ll catch up with him.”
She didn’t make any sort of reply. She couldn’t. Her throat was too choked with a jumble of emotions that weren’t all to do with her missing son. Dear God, she prayed frantically, what was happening to her? Her son was somewhere in these mountains, alone and probably lost. How could she let her mind slip, even for a few seconds, to this man?
Guilt rushed through her like a shocking downpour of cold rain. “We, uh, we’d better be going,” she stammered as she quickly lifted her head and backed away from him.
To her dismay, he caught her by the hand and prevented her from moving completely away from him.
“Not until I know that you’re all right,” he said.
A frantic wail bubbled up in her throat to nearly choke her, and she stared at him as though he’d just lost his senses. “All right? All right! Are you crazy? How could I be? My son is missing! These mountains go for miles and miles! There’s nothing up here but wilderness—maybe a few mountain goats, elk and, God forbid, bear! Tell me, Daniel, am I supposed to be okay with that?”
He caught her by the shoulder, and though he didn’t shake her, his fingers pressed firmly enough into her flesh to catch her attention.
“You’re staying here. I’m going on alone,” he said flatly.
Her mouth popped open to form a shocked circle. “Why?”
His face was grim, unmoving. “You’re becoming hysterical. You’ll be no good to me or Aaron like this.”
Releasing his hold on her, he gathered up the gelding’s reins and stuck his boot in the stirrup, but Maggie managed to grab him by the arm before he could swing himself up in the saddle.
“What are you, inhuman?” she demanded.
Lowering his boot back to the ground, he looked down at her, his features rigid except for one lone muscle ticking in his jaw. “I’m a lawman,” he said in a clipped tone. “It’s my job to keep a cool head.”
“What about a cool heart?” she taunted.
For the past hours while he’d been in this woman’s presence, he’d been fighting with himself to be a gentleman. Maggie was a lady. And he’d been telling himself it would only complicate things if he allowed himself to touch her the way he’d often dreamed about touching her. But her taunt had changed all that. He was no longer a gentleman. He was just a man.
Maggie continued to stand her ground, to wait for his answer, but it didn’t come in the way of words. Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders, her breasts were crushed against his chest and her lips were captured beneath his.
Chapter Two
“Wh-what was…that for?” Maggie stammered breathlessly once he finally released her.
As Daniel looked at her, he realized he’d never seen a more erotic woman. Nor had he ever wanted one the way he wanted Maggie Ketchum. Her breasts were heaving and her lips were red and moist from his kiss. If circumstances were different, he’d kiss her all over again. And again. If she’d let him.
“To tell you I’m not just a lawman, Maggie. I’m a man, too. I can lose my cool. If that’s what you want.”
She’d never had a man speak to her in such a spare, blunt fashion. But then she’d never had a man kiss her like Daniel Redwing had kissed her, either.
“No,” she quickly answered, then, glancing awkwardly away from him, she added in a subdued tone, “No. I want to find my son.”
“Then mount up. And stay behind me,” he ordered sharply.
Like a squaw walking behind her brave, thought Maggie furiously.
Trembling from head to toe, she gathered up the mare’s reins and somehow managed to climb into the saddle.