Logan's Outlaw Part 19

Logan felt like roaring. He was rangy and restless, too wild to be cooped up inside the house, waiting for Sarah to rise. In their room, he dug out a breechclout, a pair of leggings for him, a deerskin tunic, leggings for her, and both of their moccasins. If ever he needed a night run, he did this night. He changed into the Sioux clothes and slipped his knife sheath over the thick tie of the breechclout.

"Sarah," he whispered, bent over her. "Honey, wake up."

She looked up. A warm, sleepy smile welcomed him. But it was chased far too quickly by fear. "Is it time? Do we have to leave now?"

"No." Logan sat on the bed. "It's over. You're free. It's done."

She drew herself up to a sitting position. "How?"

"I got Hawkins to talk. Sheriff Declan heard his confession. He absolved you. Declan's going to write it up and have him sign it."

Sarah wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing her face flat against his heart. "It's done. Logan, I can't believe it. I really don't have to go to jail?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "No, sweetheart. Not to jail. You may have to be a witness in court against the men who were in this with Hawkins." He felt the hot moisture of her tears on his chest. He drew back, swiping his thumbs against the wet streaks on her cheeks. "Let's go for a run."

She nodded, laughing. She reached for her nightgown, but Logan stopped her. He pointed to the dress and leggings. "Wear these. We aren't alone here at the ranch. I don't want the men to get an eyeful of my wife in her underclothes."

Sarah drew the tunic onto her lap. It was made of soft deerskin, still a natural color. The neckline was sliced open in front, bordered by a thick panel of intricate beadwork, as were the cuffs and hem. The sides of the tunic were open, allowing the wearer free movement.

Sarah had helped prepare deerskin hides for this sort of clothing. It was intense and time-consuming work. She'd been allowed to make herself a plain tunic while she'd been Swift Elk's wife, but it had none of the elegance or decoration this one had.

"This is far too fine, Logan. I will ruin it running."

"It is far less elegant than you, believe me. It is what I want you to wear. Please."

"I won't want to take it off."

"I'll be able to get you out of it." He drew her to her feet. "Are you familiar with these?" he asked, holding up the leggings.

"I wore them while I was with Swift Elk." She looked around for the breechclout to go with the leggings. He gave her a slow smile and shook his head. Pulling her over to a chair, he tied the hide around her hips that would have supported the breechclout, if he were letting her wear one. He held one legging for her to step into, then tied it to the ribbon of hide, then did the same with the other leg.

She stood before him naked except for the leggings. He took hold of her waist, mostly to keep himself from touching her in other places. He pulled her slim body forward, burying his face in her soft stomach. He looked up at her. "I love you."

She smiled and brushed his hair from his face. "I love you."

He lifted her tunic and drew it down over her arms. It fell to her knees, the sleeves covering her arms to just past her elbows. She moaned as the suede went from cold to warm, taking on her body's heat. "I feel naked in this."

"Mm-hmm. A state we'll make use of right after our run."

Outside, they moved silently down the drive, walking hand in hand. "Where shall we run?" Sarah asked.

"East. Always to the east."

She grinned and turned in that direction. There was a faint lightening of the eastern sky, a hint that dawn was not too far away. They stepped off the drive onto the prairie and moved into the night wind. The Circle Bar was surrounded by gently rolling hills. They ran down the first hill and up the second, sometimes racing, sometimes just simply moving next to each other.

Sarah's laughter spilled out into the night, quickening something deep inside him. She looked back at him. In the slowly brightening light, he saw her eyes widen as she looked at him. She gave a little shriek and took off running hard. He gave chase. About a half mile east was a clutch of boulders on the crest of a hill. He let her keep her lead until he'd cornered her in the rocks.

She turned and faced him, laughing. Catching sight of his intense look, she held up a hand, clearly realizing she'd become his quarry. "Logan Taggert," she warned, struggling to catch her breath.

"Turn around," he ordered.

"I don't trust you," she laughed.

"You shouldn't. Turn around." Slowly, she did as he ordered. "You are mine. Only mine, Sarah Taggert," he said against her ear, his hand circling to the softness of her belly. He moved her back a few steps so that she was up against the lower boulders. "Bend over."

"Here?"

"Here." He pushed her forward, moving her hands to brace against the rocks. He loosened his breechclout and lifted her skirt. The leggings framed her soft cheeks. He almost came just looking at her. He slid into her, seating himself to his b.a.l.l.s. She was wet, slick, ready for him. He held her hips and pulled out of her, slowly, slowly, knowing she felt the long stroke of him. In again, just as slowly. He found a rhythm that made her body react, clasping and releasing him.

The sky was growing ever brighter. He could see the slickness of her when he drew out, feel the heat of her when he pushed in. He stroked her mound, pressing against her sensitive nub in time with the way he was pumping into her. He could feel her body's reaction. She started arching back, taking him as he took her, whimpering little sounds of pleasure.

"Say my name, Sarah," he growled. "Say it."

"Oha""

"Say it."

"Logan. Logan!" she cried out as her body convulsed over his c.o.c.k, milking him like a soft, wet fist. He slammed into her hard, pumping fast, wanting more of what her body was doing to him, more until ecstasy broke free within him. He cried out as he spilled himself inside her, his body releasing in an o.r.g.a.s.m that eased into a dozen little aftershocks.

He pulled free and straightened their clothes. Leaning his back against a boulder, he pulled her against his body. "That, darlin', is why you will always wear this when we run."

She slipped her arms around his waist. "Only if you always wear the getup you have on now, too."

"Do you want to head back?"

She shook her head. "Let's sit and watch the sunrise first."

They moved around the clump of boulders and sat on the far side of the hill. It was the most peaceful moment of Logan's life. He put an arm around Sarah's shoulders. Behind them, to the north and west, a low rumble of thunder sounded.

Logan looked back, disappointed that a storm would intrude on their morning. The boulders blocked his line of sight. He supposed they should head back rather than be caught out in the open in a lightning storm. "We'd better get back. We'll have to catch another sunrise," he said, giving Sarah help rising.

No sooner was she on her feet than a horse cleared the boulders and landed just inches from Logan. He barely had time to register the look of rage and hatred on the Indian's face as the flat of his war club struck him against the temple.

Swift Elk.

He screamed a fierce war cry as the blow he'd struck Logan knocked him off his feet and sent him tumbling down the hill like a rag doll. Sarah flew down the hill after him as another horse came around the boulders.

Eugene.

She had almost made it to Logan's side when she stumbled and fell. Swift Elk let loose an arrow that screamed by her ear on its way to the ground where Logan lay. Sarah dragged herself to her hands and knees and scrambled for Logan's p.r.o.ne body. She draped herself over his torso, her hands testing his head for the wound Swift Elk had caused. Her fingers came away b.l.o.o.d.y, but his skull was intact.

The ground shuddered as Swift Elk turned his pony and came back at them. He leapt from the saddle, withdrawing his knife. Sarah turned and faced him, keeping herself between him and Logan. "Don't you dare touch him. He spared your life. You owe him." She didn't know whether she spoke in English or Sioux. It didn't matter. Her words gave him pause.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing, you crazy devil?" Eugene asked as he pulled up next to them. "It's bad enough you knocked him out. If you kill him, there will be no avoiding the h.e.l.l that will rain down on us. Let's just get away, before the rest of the ranch wakes up."

"You have the heart of viper and the brain of polecat. You have no words I wish to hear," Swift Elk cursed Eugene in Sioux. He turned and came toward Sarah. She did not flinch, did not surrender her position over Logan's body.

He stepped toward her, grabbed a fistful of her tunic, stroked the knife over the soft flesh beneath her chin. Sarah had no doubt her life was about to end in a b.l.o.o.d.y wash of hatred. She lifted her chin, daring him to do as he threatened.

"Dammit, man, I'm not waiting around. Leave her and let's go!" Eugene shouted. He took up the reins of Swift Elk's spare horse, then kicked it into a fast trot down the slope of the hill.

Swift Elk grabbed Sarah's arm and jerked her forward.

"No. No, I won't go. I won't do this again. I am not married to you any longer. You are taking me from my husband." She dug in her heels and tried to jerk herself free. Swift Elk backhanded her, effectively silencing her.

"You come with me, or I will kill him. It is your only choice."

Sarah looked back at Logan. He'd once vowed to find her if she were ever taken again. He'd told her to live, to believe. She looked at Swift Elk and didn't fight when he tossed her up on the back of his horse and turned his mount after Eugene.

Sid, Sager, and Sheriff Declan sat at the kitchen table, enjoying a second cup of coffee. Declan was filling them in on his and Logan's visit with Hawkins. Hearing the details of Sarah's ordeal, both Taggerts fell silent.

Sager stared down at his coffee. How would he have felt if it were his wife, Rachel, who'd gone to h.e.l.l and back? He looked at Sid, seeing he wrestled with the same thoughts.

"I want him home for good, Sager."

"I do, too. We need him."

"Sheriff !" a man shouted as he ran toward the kitchen door outside. "Sheriff !"

Declan lurched to his feet as the man stumbled into the kitchen. "He's gone. Hawkins is gone and the guard's dead. His throat cut."

Sager and Declan hurried out to the stable. So many of Sid's men were in and around the area that it was useless trying to distinguish footprints in the dirt floor.

Sager called Sid's foreman over. "Get horses ready for me and the sheriff. And get a couple of men ready to escort Sid over to the Crippled Horse. Tell Old Jack to double the guard and keep Rachel and the boys inside. Do it now!"

He pulled another man aside. "Tell me how many horses are missing."

Declan was examining the lock. Someone had used a crowbar to pop the lock open. Sager knelt by the door, searching for something, anything that seemed out of place or notable. "Cala"look." He nodded to a soft moccasin print, partially obliterated by several boot prints.

They looked at each other. "Swift Elk."

Sager checked inside the stall. Between the straw on the ground and the many footprints in the s.p.a.ce, he was only able to distinguish one other impression.

"Sagera"there are just two horses missing," the man reported. "Sid's sorrel and the sheriff's palomino. No saddles are gone. They rode bareback. There were three horses making tracks outta here though."

"Swift Elk took a fresh horse and is leading his old one." Sager went back to the house to gather his gear. Sid met him at the door. "Logan and Sarah are gone."

Sager went down the hall and into Logan's room. The bed was unmade. Sarah's nightclothes were in a pile on the bed. Another outfit of Sarah's was on the floor. Logan's s.h.i.+rt and trousers hung over the arm of a chair, along with his gun belt. A trunk of Indian clothes was open and several pieces had been pulled out. A pile of clothes sat near the trunk, still packed.

He couldn't tell what was missing, other than the occupants themselves. "Maybe they just went for a walk."

"Without their clothesa"or shoes?" Sid asked, nodding toward Logan's boots.

"What's wrong?" Declan asked as he joined the other two in the room.

Sager shook his head. "They're gone."

Declan looked around the room, seeing no signs of a struggle. "Gone as in out for a stroll or gone as in taken?"

Sager met his look. "Maybe when we find Hawkins, we'll find them. Let's go." He paused on his way to the door. "Dad, I want you to go over to Old Jack's. Stay there with Rachel. Take your gun and a couple of men with you."

Sager and Declan headed down the hall. "If someone came in and attacked them, I would have heard. I was up, in the kitchen writing out his confession. I didn't hear a thing."

"Shadow Wolf. Shadow Wolf! Do you live?" Logan came awake fast. Without moving, he met the gaze of a pair of dark brown eyes. Cloud Walker. His cheek hurt. His head felt like a son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h. Sarah!

He pushed up fast, looking around for her. The Earth spun and vibrated. He clasped his head between the heels of his hands. Christ, he wanted to be sick.

"Do not move fast. You still bleed."

He sat up, catching sight of Cloud Walker's braves astride their horses, staring impa.s.sively at him. He held his head and looked around them, terrified he'd see Sarah's body.

"What are you doing here?"

"We are looking for Swift Elk."

"You're too late. He's already gone."

"Did he do this to you?"

Logan nodded. "Where is Yellow Moon?"

Cloud Walker shook his head. Logan stood up. The world wavered beneath his feet. He tried to breathe his way through the nausea, the pain hammering at his head. He checked the level of the sun, gauging how long he'd been out cold. An hour at most.

"I need to go after her."

Cloud Walker shook his head again. "You will come to my camp. You have killed five Sioux. You must answer for those deaths."

Cloud Walker pulled Logan's arm over his shoulder and led him over to the warriors. "Put him with me," Many Deer said.

Logan looked at his hard, impa.s.sive face. He nodded, a gesture of grat.i.tude. Taking hold of the warrior's arm, he swung himself up behind him. The men turned as one and rode fast down the hill. The hard stride of the horse jostled his head, blurring his vision.

"Shadow Wolf, take the rope. Tie yourself to me. We cannot slow down."

Logan looked down at the rope tied loosely around Many Deer's waist. He smiled to himself, but left the rope where it was. "I'm fine. I'm fine, Many Deer. Do you know how to use that yet?"

"I can tangle a man in eight moves."

"So, that would be no."

"Not much. But I will get it."

"I will show you. But first, we have to find Swift Elk and save Yellow Moon. She is my heart, my everything."

"It is foolish to love a woman so. It gives them too much power. They think to rule you in the tepee and out. I care nothing for your wife. We have come to stop Swift Elk from making more trouble for our people."

"Good. Go faster." Logan focused on relaxing into the horse's stride. Slowly, his mental faculties realigned themselves. He still had a wretched headache, but it was nothing compared to the pain he'd felt earlier.

At midday, they rode into Cloud Walker's camp. Children shouted and ran to greet them. Dogs barked. Several campfires were smoking, tended by women busily preparing meals. He'd never been to Cloud Walker's village before, but it was like so many others he'd visited, it felt like home to him. Logan's gaze swept the women as he searched futilely for Sarah. He had to get Cloud Walker to lend him a horse so that he could go after Hawkins and Swift Elk. This time, he would show no mercy.