River Lady (James River Trilogy 3)

She scrambled up the side of that rock like a fly, heaving herself over the top and crawling on her hands and knees before running with all her might.

Wesley tackled her, slamming her into the ground just as more of the fiery shot whizzed over them.

“What is that?” She gasped from under him.

“Quiet!” he hissed, covering her head with his hands, protecting her slight body with his own.

Leah couldn’t breathe, but she was much too frightened to need to breathe.

“They got away!” came a voice from below them. “Leastways I ain’t goin’ up that rock to look for ’em. I reckon they’ll think twice before they try stealin’ again.”

For a long while they lay quietly.

“Wesley,” Leah managed to say. “I can’t breathe.”

He rolled off her, stood, and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

He pulled her along behind him at a galloping pace until he stopped and leaned against a tree, his chest heaving. Leah did the same.

When they’d caught their breath, they looked at each other.

Wesley was the first to grin. “So much for our Good Samaritan acts.”

Leah gave a little laugh. “We could have been killed.”

Wes grinned wider. “Wonder what he’ll think when he finds the bag of food?”

Leah couldn’t refrain from laughing any longer. “I hope his dog doesn’t get it sooner. Oh Wesley, I never went up a rock faster in my whole life! I thought you were going to throw me over the top.”

“I tried to. That dog was so close I could smell its breath.” He laughed. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“A few scrapes and bruises, that’s all. I’ll be sore tomorrow. What about you?”

He was still laughing. “A bloody side, but not bad.”

That sobered her. “Where?” she demanded, moving in front of him and grabbing the buttons of his shirt.

“You sure are eager to get my clothes off, woman.” He grinned down at her.

“Shut up, Wesley,” she said conversationally, unbuttoning his shirt. In the moonlight she could see two long, deep scratches. “They don’t look bad, but they ought to be washed. Let’s get to the water.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said happily, following her as she walked through the woods to the nearby stream.

Wesley removed his shirt while Leah tore part of her petticoat away to wash the cuts. “What would men do without women’s petticoats?” Wes murmured. “You are a very pretty young woman, Leah,” he whispered, then touched her chin so she looked at him.

The air was filled with the charges between them, dancing lights of the moon on the water drawing them together.

Leah’s fingers moved from the cuts on Wes’s side to his dark, warm skin, upward to the dark mass of curling hair on his chest. She couldn’t move away when his lips came near hers.

“We are still married, you know,” he murmured.

Leah awoke from her trance. “If you’re trying to seduce me, Wesley Stanford, you have just failed. Here! Clean your own wounds.” She jumped up and started back to the camp.

Wes grabbed his shirt and ran after her. “I didn’t mean anything, Leah, honest,” he pleaded. “I just thought—.”

She whirled on him. “You thought that I was an easy woman and available so you’d take what you could get, didn’t you? Why didn’t you ask your virginal Kimberly out tonight and try to seduce her? Because she’s good and I’m bad, right? It’s all right to try what you can with a Simmons but not with a lady like Miss Shaw. Well, you were wrong! I gave myself once to you because I wanted to, and the next time I’ll choose the man and he won’t be one who tricks me.”

“You mean Justin,” Wes said angrily, then changed his tone. “Leah, I didn’t mean to trick you. Everything just sort of happened. I wasn’t trying to seduce you because you’re experienced, but you’re a pretty girl and—.”