“Then I guess I ain’t been riding with a cowboy these past days.”
“Damn, yer impossible,” he says. But his tone is light and he’s smiling down at me. I notice for the first time how tall he is. I ain’t short for a girl, and he’s still a whole head taller.
“Kate?” he says soft.
We’re close. Too close. We’s stopped dancing.
His gaze trails over my face, pausing where I know my cheek is either split or bruised or both. I ain’t sure why, but I reach for him, pressing a hand into his shirt. His heart thumps ’gainst my palm.
“Kate, I’d really like to kiss you.”
My heart kicks in my chest.
“Proper, of course,” he adds. “And only if you want it.”
I look at his collar, speechless, frozen. I do want it. I only just realized it last night, but I think I’s wanted it since that night in the shanty when we talked ’bout reading. Maybe even since White Tank.
“Stupid,” Jesse mutters, turning away. “The other night was . . . you only did that to . . .” He faces me again. “I’m sorry, Kate. I’m stupid and I’m sorry and—”
I grab him at the neck and pull him nearer. His mouth is warm and soft when it meets mine, his jaw rough ’gainst my skin. He leans into the kiss, arms gathering me up, and I swear a part of my head drifts right outta my body. I don’t got a clue what I’m doing, but he seems to, so I let him lead. I let him lead like we’re still dancing, and I follow blind, praying I ain’t awful while trying to keep my knees strong, ’cus I wouldn’t be shocked if they buckled and broke right here. Jesse Colton tastes like spice and tobacco and sweet mountain air, like salt and sweat from our travels. He feels like home and smells like mountains and I can’t get enough. My one hand grips him tighter at the neck. The other curls into the front of his shirt.
He breaks free. Takes a quick step away and stands there staring.
“Were it awful?” I says.
“Kate, it were so not awful, I gotta keep my distance else you won’t think I’m much of a gentleman. The last thing I want is to be on yer bad side.”
“You scared of me, Jesse Colton?”
“So what if I am? I’s seen what you can do to a man. I don’t want that to be me.”
“Pest.”
He’s still smiling, so carefree, it makes my chest hurt. So unburdened, alls I can do is smile back.
We settle onto our bedrolls. Jesse stretches out, ankles crossed. I sit cross-legged, feeling antsy.
“I’m glad you got shot ’long the Agua Fria,” he says a moment later.
“What?”
“I mean, I ain’t glad for the bullet or the pain. But I’d still be thinking you were Nate, some hotheaded, too-scrawny boy from Prescott, if it weren’t for that day.”
“Really? ’Cus you were awful to me after the Agua Fria, Jesse. Awful. Judging and goading, and what you said ’bout me in that dress!”
“Well, what if I suddenly revealed I were someone else entirely? I felt betrayed, Kate. I felt used. And then it only got more confusing in the coming days when I started looking at you proper. When I started noticing how truly tough you are, and determined, and loyal. And then what you did for me with Liluye, even after everything. I’m sorry ’bout the journal.”
“I know. We both wronged each other at least once, but that’s the past now. And ain’t you the one always saying there’s no point dwelling there?”
He smiles small. A moment later he clears his throat, glances at me sideways. “For what it’s worth, you looked damn fine in that dress. Not quite like the Kate I know, but that don’t mean you didn’t do it proud.”
I smile despite myself. I prefer to blend into the background, to be overlooked so I can scurry as I see fit. But knowing Jesse’s eyes were on me like that, knowing he liked what he were seeing . . . It makes that twisty sensation flare up in my stomach.
We’re in this together, the both of us vindictive and driven and vengeance bound. I can’t imagine sitting here alone, having to face Rose with just my Colt. I know now how foolish it were to think I could take him myself—one lone girl ’gainst a vicious outlaw. Rose is a two-man job at least, a hellhound needing an army to contain him.
“No matter what happens tomorrow,” I tell Jesse, “I’m with you till the end on this. If we go in blazing and never come out, that’s fine by me. I got nothing to go home to anyway.”
“You got me,” he says. His face is pained and serious, brows drawn down as he squints at me in the darkness. He reaches out and brushes the pad of his thumb ’gainst
my cheek. Then he draws me into another kiss.
When Jesse’s mouth opens to mine, I lose all sense of what’s decent. I forget that I’m sweaty and I smell and we both need a bath. My hands move on their own—exploring the shape of his jaw, his collarbone, his shoulders. I push his hat off so I can thread my fingers through his hair. Somehow I end up in his lap, and the tiny groan he breathes into my mouth is like a blow to the heart. He gathers me up and twists, bringing me back to his bedroll. His lips move to my neck and his hands to my waist. He pulls my flannel till it’s untucked, starts undoing the buttons.
I want him to go faster. I want him to never stop. I want my shirt off and my skin bared to him and us closer, and—God almighty, what is wrong with me? We’re in the middle of the Arizona wilderness. A coyote could be creeping into our camp. A Rose Rider could be taking aim from the mountains. Every potential danger has gone and flown my mind ’cus Jesse Colton’s hands are on my body and I can’t think straight with him towering over me like this. Can’t think at all.
“Jesse?”
He pauses, lifts his head to look me in the eyes.
“I think we should stop.”
“All right.” He sits up slow and watches as I start fastening my shirt. Even though he ain’t asked, I feel like I owe him a reason.
“I gotta have my head straight, Jesse. And you make it so my head’s . . . not.”
He just nods.
“Yer mad.”
“No,” he says, sincere. “We should prolly sleep anyway. Tomorrow’s gonna be a trial.”
A trial we might not make it through. Suddenly I realize this mighta been my only chance. This is a thing I ain’t done, and for the first time in my life I think I might want it, only I pushed it away ’stead of grabbing it by the horns.
Jesse plucks his hat from where it fell and smacks dust off the brim. He catches me watching and his brow scrunches. “What?” he says.
“Did I ruin this? Whatever this is?”
That makes him smile.
“No. Don’t ever think that. You didn’t ruin nothing.” He draws one of his pistols and starts cleaning it. “Sleep well, Kate. I’ll take first watch.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
By midday, Jesse and I’s found the rough foot trail we spotted from our mesa the previous morning. Cutting north, we follow it toward the hillside that supposedly holds the mine.