Julie Garwood - Come the Spring

"What the hell? " Cooper muttered as he stepped forward.

She leaned up on one elbow, her heart slamming inside her chest, and

stared at Donald, silently willing him to take action. Cooper saw

where she was looking and turned just as Donald moved forward.

"Son of a bitch, " Cooper shouted.

Rebecca panicked. She spotted Donald's pistol on the bench an arm's

length away from her and rolled to her side, grabbed hold of the

weapon, and fired.

Cooper was going for his gun when the bullet struck him. The force was

so powerful, he was thrown backward into the corridor against the

windowpane. The glass shuddered from the impact.

Rebecca scrambled to her feet. To keep from screaming, she covered her

mouth with her hand and fired once again. She'd aimed too high the

second time. Cooper was already crumbling to the floor. The bullet

missed him but shattered the glass. It rained down on top of his prone

body.

"Oh, God . . . Oh, God, " she whimpered. "Did I kill him? Make sure

I killed him. Hurry, Donald." Growling low in his throat like a

cornered animal, Donald rushed into the hallway. His eyes darted from

side to side to make sure no one else was coming down the aisle. "If

he isn't dead, he will be, " Donald muttered. "Stop crying and get

dressed. We have to get off the train."

"Yes, yes, " she whimpered before turning to do as he ordered.

Donald quickly dragged the unconscious lawman to the door connecting

the cars, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake. The train was

slowing to take the curved trestle above a yawning black lake when

Donald opened the door. He could see a small town looming up in the

distance on the other side of the lake. He bent down, half lifted

Cooper, grunting from his weight, and then shoved and kicked him out.

He stood there watching as the train clattered on around the bend,

smiling when the marshal hit the water.

No one had seen him. He was sure of it, and he doubted that anyone had

heard the gunshots either, for the sound the train made as it thundered

along the tracks muffled any other noises.

Once again he had gotten away with murder. Excitement surged through

his blood, and he began to pant with euphoria. He thought he saw a

movement out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't be certain. He

turned away as a precaution so that his face wouldn't be seen, and then

took his time strolling back to Rebecca's compartment. The carpet had

already absorbed the blood, and it looked as though the stains had been

there for some time. No one would know how fresh they were unless he

got down on his knees and felt the wetness.

Donald remembered to bolt the door this time. Rebecca hadn't gotten

dressed yet. Her clothes were laid out on the bench, and she was

frantically shoving her torn garments into her valise. He grabbed hold

of her from behind, slammed her up against the wall, and violently took

her.

No one heard her screams.

_arting wasn't sweet sorrow, it was agony. Jessica looked as though

her heart were being torn apart when she said goodbye to Caleb. She

didn't shed a single tear, however, and neither did her son. Her

departure didn't faze him, for he'd taken quite a liking to Josey and

Tom Norton.

He squirmed in Jessica's arms when she kissed him good-bye, couldn't be

bothered with waving farewell, and didn't give his mama a backward

glance when she walked out the doorway. He was busy wreaking havoc in

Josey's kitchen.

Jessica surprised Cole. He knew she wouldn't make a scene in front of

the baby, but he expected her to cry and carry on as soon as they were

outside. He even had an "it's for the best" lecture all ready. But

Jessie didn't carry on. She remained solemn, but dry-eyed, throughout

the journey.

She deserved a reward for holding up so well. They'd pressed hard all

day, only stopping twice to rest their horses for a short spell, and by

sunset, she was clearly physically and emotionally spent.

At dusk, he stopped his horse alongside hers and silently berated

himself for pushing her so hard. She wasn't a skilled horsewoman, and

the long ride must have been extremely difficult for her, yet she never

once voiced a complaint.

"We'll catch the train in Edwardsville tomorrow morning, " he said.

"The town's about five miles south from here. I doubt we'll find fancy

accommodations there, but you would be able to sleep in a bed, " he

explained. "Or we could make a little detour and sleep outside by the

waterfalls."

"You aren't thinking about going back to Rockford Falls?

" she asked, already shaking her head.

"We're a long way from Rockford Falls, " he assured her. "The spot I'm

thinking about has a little waterfall that spills into a clear, blue

water basin. It's real secluded."

"How much of a detour is it? " she asked tiredly. She pushed a strand

of hair out of her eyes and noticed the dust on her hands. A bath

sounded luxurious to her.

"About a mile from here, " he said. "If we do sleep out, it means

getting up a little earlier."

"What would you like to do? " He always preferred sleeping out under

the stars, away from the noise and crowds and congestion of a big town,

but he wasn't going to sway Jessica. It was her choice, not his.

"Whatever you decide is fine with me."

"I'd love to have a bath."

"I'm sure we can find a bath for you in Edwardsville."

"But I'd rather sleep outside. Is it really secluded by the

waterfall?

" "Yeah, it is."

"Then I'll be able to practice."

"Practice what? " he asked.

"You'll see, " she said. "I can't do it alone. You're going to have

to help." He raised an eyebrow. "Does practice involve touching? "

He was teasing her and fully expected to make her blush. She didn't,

though. She agreed instead.

"Oh, yes, you'll have to put your arms around me. At least I think you

will. I'm not sure. I don't have any experience." He nudged his

horse into a trot and led the way down a narrow slope.

She was right behind him.

His mind jumped from one licentious thought to another. What in

thunder did she want to practice?

He glanced back. "This practice . . . it requires seclusion? " She

hid her smile. "Oh, yes, it does."

"Why? " "Because I'm going to make a lot of noise. If there were

other people around, I would be inhibited." He pulled back on the

reins and waited for her to catch up to him. He could see the sparkle

in her eyes and knew she was up to mischief.

"You aren't talking about what I think you're talking about, are you?

" She batted her eyelashes at him. He burst into laughter.

"What do you think I'm talking about? " she asked innocently.

"Sex."

"No, " she blurted out before she too burst into laughter.

"Men don't like to be teased, Jessie. Remember that." He took the

lead once again. She trailed behind him just as she had for the last

eight hours. She didn't say another word for a long while, until

curiosity got the better of her.

"Cole? " "Yes? " "Were you disappointed? " "About what? " "That I

wasn't talking about sex."

"No, " he snapped. "I wasn't." Her shoulders slumped, and she felt an

acute wave of disappointment.

"Then you never once thought about it. . . with me? " He couldn't

believe they were having this conversation. Didn't she realize the

effect she\was having on him? Probably not, he decided. It was

apparent she was innocent, but she wouldn't be for long if she kept

asking him such personal questions.

"Yeah, I thought about it."

"And? " "And what? It isn't gonna happen, Jessica."

"No, of course not, " she hastily agreed. "But I've thought about it

too, several times, as a matter of fact." He almost fell off his

horse. "Will you stop talking about it? ! " "You don't have to yell

at me. I was just being honest with you. You're very easy to talk to,

at least you were until you got upset, and admitting that I've thought

about making love to you isn't a crime.

I'm not going to act on it. I wouldn't even know what to do."

"Then I don't have to worry you'll do anything stupid."

"Like what? " He didn't answer her. He swore he wasn't going to say

another word, and he definitely wasn't going to look back at her, at

least not until he had gotten rid of the notion of dragging her off her

horse, pulling her clothes off, and making love to her.

"I hope the water's warm, " she remarked.

He hoped it was cold . . . icy cold.

The last mile seemed like twenty to her, and by the time they finally

arrived, she was bone weary.

Cole helped her dismount. His hands stayed around her waist much

longer than necessary, and she leaned into him, thankful for his

assistance.

Her legs were so shaky she was sure she would have fallen flat on her

backside if he hadn't held on to her.

She glanced up to thank him, noticed his clenched jaw, and quickly