Only 06 - Winter Fire

longer dug into her breasts and belly. Now theweight and strength of the man lay lightly along her right side.
    He was still there, still poised. If he wanted to, he could cover her again as swiftly and silently as he had before.
    â€œYou all right?” the man asked softly.
    She nodded.
    Then she wondered if the man would understand her silent communication now that he wasn’t close enough to feel her every heartbeat. It was as dark as the inside of a boot beneath the overhang of rock.
    â€œGood girl,” he murmured.
    He must have eyes like an eagle , Sarah thought. Lord, if only I had the wings of an eagle I would fly away .
    The thought sent a shudder of pure longing through her.
    â€œNow don’t go all contrary on me,” the stranger said softly. “We’re not out of this mess by a long sight.”
    We? she asked silently. Last time I looked, I was alone and there wasn’t any mess at all!
    Men’s voices, the creaking of saddle leather, and a horse’s impatient snort drifted up from the blackness at the base of the cliff.
    In the night stillness of the red rock desert, sound carried a long, long way.
    All right , she amended silently. I was alone and a mess was gathering around me .
    Now I’m not alone. Danger is right within reach .
    And it smells of apples .
    Sarah struggled against a smile.
    She lost.
    Case Maxwell saw the flash of her smile. He wondered what the girl found worth smiling about in this unholy mess.
    And despite the darkness, despite the heavy men’s clothes she wore, Case had no doubt that it was a female he was lying halfway across. She was soft, slender, and smelled of summer roses.
    Must be Sarah Kennedy , he decided. Either that or BigLola. They’re the only white women for several days’ ride .
    Somehow he doubted that the girl he had discovered in the shallow cave was Big Lola. Word had it that Lola was man-sized, man-hard, and tough as any sporting gal who had ever ventured west of the Mississippi.
    The slender waif who was trying not to smile didn’t have the attitude—or the smell—of a sporting gal.
    Sarah Kennedy , he said to himself. Has to be .
    As it had during the Civil War, his mind worked quickly, assembling the information he had on the subject of a girl called Sarah Kennedy.
    Widow. Young. Avoids men, quiet as a shadow, and even harder to lasso .
    A kid brother called Conner, an old outlaw known as Ute, and Big Lola live with her on Lost River Canyon ranch .
    Wonder why nobody mentioned that Sarah smells of summer roses and has a smile quick as lightning?
    Just what the hell is she smiling about, anyway?
    He was opening his lips to ask when the sound of approaching horses came up to him from the black and silver land below. The horsemen were headed toward the foot of the cliff, which was barely thirty feet below the cave-like overhang Case was hiding in while he spied on Ab Culpepper and his savage kin.
    Then Case had discovered that he wasn’t the only one who wanted to listen in on the uneasy negotiations between the Culpepper boys and the outfit known as Moody’s Breeds.
    Hell of a place to find a girl who dresses like a man and smells like summer rain and roses , he thought.
    Hell of a place for a girl, period .
    Only a few inches beyond his head was the outer edge of a shallow cave that water had eaten from a solid stone cliff. The far end of the cave was barely ten feet behind his boots.
    A tiny stream of water from the seep at the back of theoverhang wound along the downward slanting rock just a few inches from his gun. From there the water spun over the lip of stone and out of sight into the night.
    That little trickle wouldn’t cover the sound of a bird fart , Case thought grimly. Hope Sarah has as much sense and grit as she seems to .
    Any rash move by either of them would give away their presence to the outlaws below.
    At least she had sense enough not to scream , he consoled himself. We might get out of this yet with our hides intact .
    On the other hand, he wasn’t counting on a happy outcome. War and its brutal aftermath had taught him not to expect any kind of luck but the kind that killed you and destroyed whatever you held dear.
    Very slowly he lifted his right hand. He touched his index finger against Sarah’s lips in a command for silence. Though the touch was light, he felt her flinch away.
    Sarah nodded to show she understood that she must be very quiet.
    As she