Renegade (8 page)

Tucker’s brow furrowed at the sight of the two horses tied up at the rail beside the house. He moved silently to the window and stood stock-still at what he saw inside.

Samantha Rigg and Matt. Samantha’s hair was unbound and in disarray. Her clothing, as well as Matt’s, had been carelessly donned. They stood near the fireplace looking down at a pan of food on the fire. Samantha turned toward Matt. Matt took her into his arms.

The pan on the fire was forgotten.

So it was true!

Tucker stepped back from the window, seething. He knew passion when he saw it. Yet he was somehow surprised at the confirmation that Matt wasn’t really any better than he was.

Somehow he wished it weren’t true.

Pausing only a moment, Tucker then walked silently back to his horse. He mounted, uncertain of his emotions when he kicked the animal into movement.

His mother had said one thing and his father another.

His brother spoke one way and acted another.

His own noble moment had been for naught.

Only one thing was sure. Jenny was his for the taking.

Tucker arrived at Jenny’s ranch still angry at the scene he had witnessed in his brother’s ranch house. In scouting the land, he had learned where Jenny lived, and he had traveled there with haste.

Jenny’s background was no mystery to him. He knew her father was all she had left, and that she kept house and cooked for him, as well as for the three men who worked at the Circle O. He had seen Bart, Lefty, and Mike busily repairing fences on the way, leaving the possibility that Randolph Morgan was working without them somewhere else. If he were lucky—

Refusing to complete that thought, Tucker dismounted and knocked boldly on the door. Jenny responded to his appearance with a spontaneous smile, but his own smile faded when her father walked up behind her and extended his hand.

“I’m glad to see you, Matt.” Randolph Morgan’s voice was gravelly, but the pride in the old man’s eyes despite a curved posture that bespoke his age was apparent as he continued. “Jenny and I have been waiting for you to show up. Been busy, have you?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve spent more time than I should have at the ranch.” Pretense his forte, Tucker continued. “But I hope to make up for my neglect by taking Jenny for a ride this afternoon.”

Randolph looked at him curiously. “I admit to surprise that you’re taking time off in the middle of a workday.”

“I finished what I intended to do, and I wanted some time with Jenny if she’s available.”

“Of course I have time for you!” Jenny interrupted, turning to her father as she said, “I won’t be long, Pa. Everything is ready for supper, but I’ll be back before then.”

Randolph’s smile was wry. “I guess I forgot for a moment how it was to be young.”

Tucker felt the old man’s eyes follow him as he saddled Jenny’s horse and they rode away. Riding along a sunlit trail a short time later, Tucker suggested, “There’s a nice glade nearby where we can dismount and talk.”

“I know. What I don’t know is what’s so important to talk about that you had to come to see me in the middle of the day.”

Tucker shrugged as he turned his horse into the glade. “Maybe I just missed you.”

“I know I missed you.”

Tucker looked up as Jenny continued soberly. “But I need to know, is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Tucker dismounted when they reached the shadowed glade and lifted Jenny down from her horse and said more softly, “Unless wanting to see you is wrong.”

Jenny was so close to him that her body touched his as she replied, “You never invented reasons to see me before, Matt. That’s one thing that’s different. You’re not wearing that belt buckle that you’ve worn every day since your father’s death, and that’s
another.” She added, “The third thing is the way you make me feel.”

With a sudden need to hear her say the words, Tucker replied, “How do you feel, Jenny?”

“I thought you knew.” Jenny’s brown eyes worshipped his as she whispered, “I love you, Matt. I’ve always loved you. When you talked about marriage between us, it was the answer to my prayers. Even though I knew there was no real magic between us, we knew each other so well that I was sure it was right. My only concern was that you’re so handsome, and I’m so plain.”

“You’re not plain.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!” Livid, Tucker grasped Jenny’s arms tightly and insisted, “I told you, you’re wholesome and you’re honest. There’s a quality in you that makes your brown eyes sparkle and your features shine.”

“They shine only for you, Matt.”

Tucker winced at her use of Matt’s name.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Tucker stepped back and shook his head. He walked toward the nearby stream, aware that their mounts followed and began drinking. He stared at the horses for a long moment, and then turned to look at Jenny as she walked up beside him. He said with more honesty than he had intended, “I think the way I feel about you is new to me.”

“It shouldn’t be, since we’ve known each other for such a long time.” She shook her head as she admitted, “But the way I feel is new to me, too, somehow.”

Tucker stared at Jenny and then asked, “What’s different about it?”

“I don’t know. I feel a sense of anticipation when I see you that I never felt before.” Her face colored as she proceeded determinedly, “And the way I feel when you kiss me. It’s like…like you feel the same thing I feel…hungry, maybe.”

“Hungry…”

“For more than food.”

Tucker stared harder. He had never met anyone like Jenny before. She spoke to him so openly, declaring her emotions without shame. He felt as if he were drowning in the warm depths of her eyes. They touched a part of him he hadn’t known existed.

“Kiss me, Matt.”

“Jenny…”

“I want to know if I dreamed the way I felt, or if it’s really true.”

“Jenny, I came here to—”

Lifting herself on tiptoe, Jenny slid her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his. Her chaste kiss more than he could bear, Tucker grasped Jenny tight against him. He pressed his mouth deeper, clutched her closer, strained her against him until her slender body melded to his and their kiss left them breathlessly wanting more.

Tucker groaned as he drew back from her. He had never felt this way with a woman before. Jenny wiped away the past, cleansed him of all wrong-doings, made him feel new and unlike the man he had once been.

“I love you, Matt.”

Tucker returned sharply to reality.

“I’m waiting to hear you say you love me, too.”

Tucker stared down at Jenny…sweet, loving Jenny who had no idea that she was in the arms of an imposter. She didn’t deserve that.

“Matt…”

“I have to go now, Jenny.”

“Go?”

Tucker pushed Jenny away firmly. “I…I have something important to take care of.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Jenny’s expression grew pained.

“No, this has nothing to do with you.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Matt.”

“I have to go.”

Tucker lifted her back onto the saddle of her nearby horse, ignoring her protests when he mounted as well. He turned out of the glade and back onto the trail, aware that Jenny followed behind. The tears in her eyes cut him deeply when she drew up alongside and whispered, “Tell me what I did, Matt.”

Tucker did not respond. He still had not replied to her question when he delivered Jenny to her
ranch and turned his horse back onto the trail with her earnest pleas echoing behind him.

Toby wandered through his livery stable nervously. Unable to remain still, his concern deepening, he looked again at the sky, where a setting sun forecast the end of another day. Samantha still had not returned from her daily trek. He had not inquired what she was looking for or what she intended when she left that morning. He had learned early on that Samantha had her own mind, and that his affection for her did not allow him to question her.

He trusted her. He knew that whatever she was about, she had good reason for it.

And Matt had explained where she was. Yet…

Toby walked out onto the busy Winston street. The Trail’s End was alive with color; it would be another lively night. The regulars would miss Samantha there if she did not return.
He
would miss her. Although she appeared to be a saloon woman like the others, Samantha was different in a way that had nothing to do with her natural beauty. He had known that from the first day, even if he could not put into words exactly what he sensed.

Admittedly, Samantha had become the daughter he had lost in another lifetime far away from this place. She stirred memories he had once chosen to forget, but they were cherished memories, just as he cherished Samantha. What concerned him now was
that he could not escape the feeling that something had happened.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’ll see you soon.“

An unexpected thickness filled Toby’s throat when he recalled Samantha’s words. She didn’t want him to suffer needlessly. He appreciated that thoughtfulness.

He could only hope that Matt had told him the truth and that Samantha was not at his ranch, waiting for him to return as he secretly suspected. He had seen the way they looked at each other, and he knew Matt’s previous commitments. He had the feeling that the dear girl was in for more trouble than she imagined.

He had seen the determined look in Samantha’s eyes. She would return when she was good and ready. For the time being, he needed to wait.

The sky outside the ranch house darkened as Samantha stirred. She felt the warmth of Matt’s arms around her, and she smiled. It wasn’t like last time, when she had awakened alone.

Samantha kept her eyes closed as a wave of uncertainty swept her. She hadn’t truly intended to find herself in Matt’s bed when she started out that morning. She wasn’t sure exactly how or why she was there, except she had been unable to resist the look in Matt’s eyes that said so clearly that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She did not comprehend her feelings the evening
when he behaved so obnoxiously and she had felt actually repelled by him. She could only conclude that it was an aberration, since in his bed with his arms wrapped around her and with his loving words in her ears, she loved him.

Matt had not said those words. Perhaps he never would. She sensed that something remained between them.

Of course, it was Jenny.

Suddenly uncertain, Samantha started. Or perhaps it was all a dream.

“What’s the matter?”

The light-eyed gaze that came into her line of vision when she opened her eyes was familiar. The mouth that briefly covered hers, forestalling a reply, was equally familiar. Still groggy from awakening, she became aware that she was naked underneath the light coverlet and that Matt was as naked as she. Samantha flushed.

“I’m hungry.”

“So am I.”

Matt kissed her again. His kiss sought to intensify when Samantha drew back unexpectedly and said, “I’m hungry for food.”

“You said that before. I hope you realize we’ll have to scour that burned frying pan.”

Samantha chided, “You don’t sound disappointed that it burned.”

“I guess I’m not.” Matt kissed her again. He threw back the coverlet and stood, unashamedly naked.
“But I guess I’m hungry for food, too. Let’s see what I have in the cupboard.”

An hour later they had consumed smoked ham, dried and reconstituted vegetables, coffee, and biscuits. They had also conversed and laughed, yet a familiar hunger remained.

They were tight in each other’s arms later when Samantha looked out the window at the slowly rising moon.

“I guess I’m going to be staying here tonight.”

“I guess you are,” Matt mumbled in response.

Samantha surprised herself by asking, “Do you have any regrets?”

“Do I look like I do?”

Matt clutched her close then, and Samantha abandoned herself to his arms and the wonder they raised.

It was only later, in the darkness of the night, that Samantha realized Matt had not really answered her.

And she wondered.

He was hiding something.

“I don’t have time to talk.” Matt’s reply to Samantha’s casual question became surprisingly cautious after they finished breakfast at the start of the new day. Still standing beside the table where they had eaten, he looked at her in a way totally unlike the man who had just shared a pleasant meal with her, and who had made torrid love to her the previous night. He added, “I have to feed the animals.”

She supposed that meant no more questions.

Samantha glanced at the sun shining through the windows of the ranch house as he walked out into the yard. The sunbeams lighting the house’s interior did not match Matt’s sudden mood.

Samantha scrubbed a little harder at the same frying pan they had thoughtlessly burned the evening before, and her heart thumped responsively despite her fatigue. Truthfully, Samantha had not realized how deep her reactions to Matt could be, or that she
could expend that much energy in his arms. Yet her sleeplessness had been worthwhile.

They had arisen that morning and had eaten a leisurely, intimate breakfast—eggs from Matt’s chickens in the rear coop and bacon cured in Matt’s own smokehouse, accompanied by the strong, hot coffee that Matt insisted upon. She had even made biscuits from a recipe she had committed to memory.

Matt had told her that his father and he had often awakened at dawn and gathered part of their breakfast from the coops in the rear of the house before the sun had risen. Samantha had smiled at the thought, but her smile faded when she recalled that Matt appeared to have regretted telling her even that smallest detail about his past life.

She had waited for him to ask about hers. She had previously only offered disconnected information. She had finally concocted a plausible story that she hoped would satisfy him.

He hadn’t asked.

Samantha scrubbed harder, aware that Matt had gathered the dirty dishes automatically after they had eaten, obviously from long practice. He would have done the cleanup, too, but she had offered and he had accepted.

Her nose twitched as she continued to scrub. She’d never do that again.

Matt had appeared to be annoyed that the lock on the door was sticking, but she wasn’t surprised. Despite Matt’s most diligent efforts, the ranch house
had begun deteriorating. It was clean, but the bedroom, the only one, bore the marks of totally male habitation from the ragged coverlet on the bed that only a man could bear, to the curtainless windows that allowed in the sun as soon as it rose, and finally to the uncovered, wooden plank floors.

A woman would have managed a rug of some sort. She would also have replaced the chipped plates and worn utensils in the kitchen, even if she needed to do it slowly, so as not to strain a weary budget.

Then there was the worn settee in the living room that bore the marks of years, and haphazard furniture that was comfortable, but unappealing to a woman’s eye. It was obvious that a woman had not lived in Matt’s quarters for years.

That thought afforded Samantha unexpected relief, but relief was only temporary. She wondered what changes Jenny would make after she and Matt were married.

Jenny in Matt’s bed…Matt loving Jenny the way he had loved her…

Samantha stiffened; the thought rankled. She had asked Matt to love her, and he had done so, so thoroughly and completely that her heart again thundered in recollection. She had not asked him for more than that…and he had not offered.

Samantha forced a shrug, but her introspection stung. She needed to remember that this time with Matt was merely a respite and that Matt had done nothing to disprove anything that the Pinkertons
had established previously as fact. Actually, he became silent and morose when she asked him even the simplest question. She could explain his behavior in only one way. He was afraid he would let something slip that he would regret later.

Although their lovemaking was uninhibited, their conversation was not. Yet Matt had been so giving and loving when he had held her in his arms that she could not imagine he was the thief she had hoped to bring to justice.

She was so conflicted.

Samantha listened to the sound of Matt’s footsteps as he walked toward the barn. She struggled to believe that his commitment to the heritage his father had provided was in too sharp a contrast with criminal acts, yet she knew he was concealing something—something important.

Samantha walked to the window to watch as Matt disappeared into the barn. He would be there tending to the animals for some time. She wanted—she
needed
—to follow through with her investigation. She wanted to be wrong about everything she knew so far to be true about him. She needed to discover that she was chasing the wrong man.

Waiting only a moment longer, Samantha put the frying pan back on the shelf and quickly dried her hands. She then started searching.

She was hiding something.

That thought continued to haunt Matt as he
mucked out the barn. He had already tended to Samantha’s horse. A new shoe had done the trick. All that was left to do was to finish up.

Questions filled Matt’s mind as he turned to his mount and mumbled, “How do I tell Jenny about Samantha and me? I need to be honest with her. Do I tell her she deserves a man who loves her with passion, not a man who admires her solely for the honest, trusting, and loving person that she is? Is loving her like a brother enough?

“Then how do I tell Samantha after making love to her that there can never be a future for the two of us together? Because that’s true, too.”

Thunder’s ears twitched. Matt’s mount turned to look at him curiously, his dark eyes questioning, and Matt was bitterly amused. Now he was talking to a horse. He supposed that would be the only reprieve left to him when Jenny turned her back on him and Samantha did the same.

The truth was that Samantha was everything he had always been wary of in a woman. She was too beautiful, too passionate, and too smart for her own good—like his mother. Like his father before him, he was entranced by her. And like his father before him, he felt he could trust her completely only when she was lying in his arms.

Matt’s frustration expanded. He supposed his only alternative was to be totally honest with Samantha about the way he felt—about his burgeoning distrust.

Matt took a deep breath. He supposed there was no time like the present.

Making that sudden decision, Matt propped his rake against the side of the barn and started back toward the ranch house. It did not occur to him that he had approached the house silently, or that he had opened the door quietly, too—until he walked in on the sight of Samantha rummaging frantically through his desk.

Stunned, Matt demanded, “What are you looking for, Samantha?”

Samantha turned toward him guiltily. Obviously taken aback, she stammered before managing, “I was looking for some paper. I wanted to send a note to the bartender at the Trail’s End explaining that I’d be back to work tomorrow at the latest.”

“How did you expect to deliver your note?”

“I…I guess I didn’t think that far.”

“No, I don’t suppose you did.” The lines of Matt’s face tightened as he demanded softly, “I need to know the truth, Samantha. Why were you searching my desk? What did you expect to find? Money, maybe, or something valuable that would make the night we spent together profitable?”

Samantha gasped.

“Tell me the truth.”

The truth…she couldn’t.

Matt stood silently as Samantha remained motionless. He repeated, “I need to hear the truth, Samantha.”

Speaking abruptly from the heart, Samantha replied, “The truth is that the night we spent together was more than I ever dreamed it could be. It was so wonderful that I didn’t truly believe it could happen again—and then I realized it probably wouldn’t. The truth is that you’re betrothed to someone else that you love in a way you don’t love me, and that I refuse to be the woman on the side for any man—even you. The truth is that we don’t really have a future together, and that truth is more than I can bear.”

Matt paled.

Samantha managed a shaky smile as she whispered more softly, “I think I should go back to town now. You did shoe my horse, didn’t you?”

Matt nodded.

Samantha glanced at the chair where she had thrown her hat. Grateful that she was otherwise dressed, she felt her smile wobble as she reached for it and said, “I suppose there’s nothing left to say.”

Matt grasped her arm before she took two steps toward the door. He whispered unexpectedly, “Don’t go.”

“I must.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I asked you not to apologize to me again.”

Matt gripped Samantha’s arms more tightly. “Everything you said about me is true. I am betrothed to another woman…a wonderful other woman who I don’t want to hurt.”

Samantha began trembling. She had known this was coming. She had been warned.

“But now faced with your leaving, I realize I don’t want to let you go, either.” He swallowed tightly. “I’m going to tell Jenny about us as soon as possible.”

“No…I mean yes…I mean—” Samantha shook her head. “I don’t know what I mean.”

Matt drew her closer. His lips only inches from hers, he whispered intently, “There’s another truth that you didn’t mention—the truth that none of this really matters. It only matters what we feel. What do you feel, Samantha?” Matt’s light eyes mesmerized her as he asked softly, “Do you want me the same way I want you, with a driving desperation that makes you forget everything else? Do you want me to make love to you until the rest of the world becomes a shadow and the moment is all that’s important? Because that’s what I want.”

Samantha stared at Matt, her throat too thick to immediately respond. Yes, she loved him. Yes, she wanted him. Yes, she needed him. Yes, she wanted all the things he wanted, no matter the cost, although the cost was turning out to be heavier than she had ever imagined it could be.

But then, she had silently answered all his questions beyond doubt.

In the absence of a response she could not utter, Samantha slid her arms around Matt’s neck and pressed her mouth to his. Her need deepened when
he returned her kiss, returned her caresses, and then drew her tight against him before carrying her to his bed.

The loving took over—a thoughtless, driving, passionate love.

“What were you looking for?“

The unanswered question took on a new significance.

Beams of the noon sun glowed through the windows as Samantha moved around the kitchen, still wrapped in Matt’s love. Silent, she felt the afterglow of their lovemaking envelop her, and she knew it affected Matt as well. She saw it in the way he glanced at her surreptitiously, as if to reassure himself that she was there. She felt it in the way his brief glances adored her, just as she adored him, and in the way he turned to her again and again, drawing her close as if the thought of being separated from her was unbearable.

She knew, because she felt the same way. The wonder of him was fresh in her senses, and she—

Samantha gasped aloud when the ranch house door snapped open abruptly to reveal a man standing in the doorway—a man so similar to Matt in appearance that she could see no physical differences between them!

Samantha went rigid with disbelief as she glanced between them. The same dark hair and light eyes, the same severely handsome features and full lips,
the same powerful body that Samantha remembered only too clearly lying atop hers.

She gasped again.

Matt’s double said heatedly, “So she’s still here, you bastard!”

The stranger’s harsh tones were so similar to Matt’s that Samantha’s arms fell limply to her sides. Stepping back from Matt, she could do no more than stare. She was unable to speak when Matt responded, “Yes, I’m a bastard…just like you are.”

Samantha’s eyes widened farther when the other Matt laughed harshly with a smile that she had believed was Matt’s own and replied, “Somehow that admission doesn’t give me the satisfaction that I thought it would.” His expression hardened. “But I want you to know you’re responsible for the only two noble moments I’ve ever had in my life, and that I see now they were both mistakes. Thanks for setting me straight, brother, and for proving to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was right all along. You
are
no better than I am.”

He turned abruptly and walked back out through the doorway through which he had entered only a few minutes previously.

Twins!

Stunned, Samantha mumbled incredulously, “So that’s how he robbed those banks and got away with it.”

Realizing abruptly that it was too late to take back those words, Samantha looked at Matt to see
his eyes widen. He spoke in a tone of dawning realization.

“So you know my secret. It was my brother who no one knew existed that robbed them, while I was an easy alibi. Are you ready to tell me your secret now, Samantha? Why were you looking through my desk? What did you expect to find—something that explained my part in the bank robberies, maybe?”

“Maybe.”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“No, I don’t.”

Samantha said defensively, “You had your secret and I had mine, but now I understand how you and your brother were able to get away with everything.”

Not bothering to confirm or deny her statement, Matt said flatly, “So it’s time for you to tell me what you’re hiding.”

Samantha hesitated, and then said, “I’m not what you thought I was. I’m not a dance hall girl.”

“That’s not really news to me.”

“I came here looking for you…hoping to get evidence about the bank robberies that other detectives had failed to get.”

“Why? Was it for the reward?”

“Money had nothing to do with it!”

“What was your reason, then?”

“I wanted to prove I could work efficiently as a Pinkerton detective despite my sex.”

“A Pinkerton detective?” Matt was incredulous.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t.” Matt took a backward step. “Or maybe I just wouldn’t care. I thought I knew who you were and how you felt, but it looks to me now that everything between us was just a calculated act on your part. I suppose you’d go to any length to get what you came for.”