Redwing's Lady. Stella Bagwell

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Redwing's Lady - Stella Bagwell


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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. As she nudged the mare up the side of the mountain, she still couldn’t believe the deputy had actually kissed her. Nor could she believe how she’d responded to him. Her body was still on fire and she knew her cheeks had to be crimson.

      Instinctively her gaze was drawn to his back and the broad shoulders hidden beneath the taut khaki fabric. Did the man go around kissing every woman who needed the aid of a lawman? Forget that question, she scolded herself. The real question was, why had she ever fallen into the man’s arms in the first place? Sure, she was upset. But there’d been plenty of times since Hugh’s death that she’d been upset. And during those times she’d never so much as touched a man, much less kissed one.

      Forget it, Maggie. You’re under extreme stress. Besides, nothing matters now except finding Aaron.

      As the horses climbed, the ground grew rougher. Several times her mare slipped, but managed to gather herself before she went to her knees. Thankfully Maggie was an experienced rider. Otherwise she might have fallen into the gorge far below to their left.

      “The timberline is just ahead.” Daniel tossed the announcement over his shoulder. “We’ll stop there and let the horses blow. Once we get in the open, we might be able to catch a glimpse of Aaron or, at least, his horse.”

      Nodding, she followed Daniel to a spot on the mountain where the fir trees ended and huge, magnificent boulders protruded from the bald, grassy slopes.

      Pulling the mare to a stop next to Daniel’s mount, Maggie scoured the mountainside for any sign of her son. “I don’t see anything. Not even any goats.”

      “His horse has been here. And not long ago.”

      Her heart leaping with hope, her gaze darted to Daniel’s face to see his attention was focused on horse tracks surrounding one of the nearby boulders.

      “What about Aaron?” she rushed the question at him. “Do you see his tracks?”

      Frowning faintly, he said, “I’m not sure. Let’s get down for a few minutes. The horses need to rest. They’ve had a hard, fast climb.”

      Maggie didn’t protest. Even though she knew the waning daylight was precious, she was exhausted. Once she slid from the saddle and stood on the ground, her legs would barely hold her upright. Along with her misbehaving legs, her head was whirling at a nauseating speed.

      Gripping the stirrup, she prayed for the rushing sound in her ears to stop and for the power to stand upright.

      “Maggie?” Daniel asked softly. “Are you ill?”

      She was drawing in slow, deep breaths in an effort to clear her head when his hand came against her back. His touch jolted her like an electrical current and the fire zapped her with a spurt of strength.

      “No,” she murmured. Then glancing up at him, she added, “I…I’m just really, really tired, that’s all.”

      As he studied her weary face, his dark features remained stoic. Maggie wondered if he wanted to say, I told you to stay behind. But he didn’t say anything of the sort. Instead he slid his arm around the back of her waist and clamped a steadying hand around her upper arm.

      “Come over here and sit down,” he instructed.

      He helped her over to one of the boulders, and after she was sitting comfortably, he went over to his horse and slipped a canteen of water from the saddle horn.

      Back at her side, he took off the lid and silently handed the insulated container to her. After she’d taken several long sips, he took the canteen and poured some of the cool water onto his handkerchief.

      With one hand he reached up and pushed the straw hat from her head. With the other, he used the moist handkerchief to wipe her heated face.

      “You’re hot and dehydrated,” he said grimly. “Why didn’t you tell


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