Kissed by the Outlaw Page 5

  But only for a moment. He could bear no more than that.

  As for Kelly, her face was flushed. Was she remembering the spanking she'd gotten over his knee? McSwain had trouble casting that scene from his memory, too, though he had been entertaining thoughts of bending her over and doing other things to her, as well.

  Things that, for now, he wasn't at liberty to do.

  "That won't be happening again," she mumbled, evidently more to herself. "You won't get the chance. I'll be gone long before that."

  "Fine. Again, for as long as—"

  "For as long as I'm here, I have to abide by your rules. Yeah, yeah. Whatever, macho man!"

  McSwain had never heard that term before. To him, it didn't sound particularly respectful. He almost let it slide before deciding to give her a chance to explain herself.

  "What does that mean, macho man?" he demanded.

  Kelly blew out an exasperated sigh. "You would consider it a compliment!"

  "That so? So what does it mean?"

  "A macho man is a man who…" she trailed off.

  McSwain wondered if she delaying her answer because she'd been confronted, and she realized she was on shaky ground. Or had she really had to think about the term's meaning?

  "Think Sean Connery, Clint Eastwood, John Wayne—"

  "Who are they?"

  "Oh, that's right. None of them have been born yet." Meeting his gaze, she didn't look angry now. More like she was trying not to break into a smile. "A macho man is a real masculine guy who is… intensely masculine."

  McSwain pursed his lips and shrugged. "That's good so far."

  "Figures you'd like that. He's also very into being muscular and anything to do with being a guy, and—and none of this offends you, does it?"

  He shrugged. "Doesn't sound like anything to be offended about. That's who I am. A… macho man."

  When had their conversation turned around for the better? She looked somewhat reluctant to be giving him a mischievous smirk. McSwain responded with a swarthy wink.

  "What do you call a woman who's good at being a woman?" he wanted to know.

  "Oh, I don't know. I don't know if there's really a term or a word for that."

  "I think there is. I think the word would be Kelly."

  Now why would he have said such a thing? Jess McSwain wasn't much of a romantic. He sure wasn't a ladies' man. He rarely knew how to act around a woman, even less around a lady. As headstrong as she could be, Kelly Long was a lady. Being around men was so much easier, less unpredictable.

  Not to mention less interesting.

  Just as he was about to tear his gaze away—he'd been staring at her for too long, as it was—she leaned in closer and kissed him. Right on the mouth, her lips warm and hungry, she kissed him.

  Immediately he saw her bite her lower lip and turn in her seat, staring straight ahead of her. He opened his mouth slightly but was still too dumbfounded to say a word.

  "I'm s-sorry. That won't happen again," Kelly stammered.

  McSwain drew in a breath. He pulled the brim of his hat down further to shield his eyes from the sun and drove on.

  Do it again, woman. Kiss me again.

  He couldn't initiate a kiss himself. No matter how much he wanted one. And was he ever craving another kiss from that woman.

  Yet if he tried, she would push him away. Besides, he wasn't good with any of that—kissing, hugging, romancing. He could take a woman in his bed, certainly. But all that leading up to the sexual act itself—

  "Can we talk about something else, McSwain?"

  Her question jarred him back to the present. "Like what?"

  "Like can we go back to where your friends live? Charles and Sarah Colton? Because if we find the creek by their house, we may be able to find the waterfall. I mean, obviously the water from a waterfall runs off into creeks and rivers and such. Right?"

  He nodded. She was clearly over the kiss. He was still pretty rattled.

  Rattled and aroused.

  "I would think so," he agreed vaguely. "But what if it's a waterfall back there… in North Carolina, 2014? And here, the opening—or portal, whatever you call it—is somewhere else?"

  Kelly paled. "I have thought about that, too. I don't know much about those things. Up until now, I never really believed in them, anyway."

  I hope you never find your portal, Kelly.

  He was grateful to have kept those words to himself. Realistically, even if they couldn't find the portal, who was to say she would want to stay with him? He couldn't keep her there with him against her will.

  What she wanted was to return to her world. The world she knew, the world that hadn't included him.

  Yet Jess McSwain had to admit it had been pleasant sleeping beside a warm body the night before, waking up beside someone as lovely as Kelly Long. She'd been kind enough to fix them both a breakfast of eggs and buttered slices of bread, what was left from dinner last night. If he hadn't been so sure she'd run off into the woods and endanger herself, it would have been pleasant to return from town to a clean, swept house… a woman's loving arms.

  "While you're taking everything to market, can I… well, would it be all right with you if I walked around?"

  The town of Cheyenne had come into view. She was asking him to allow her to walk around unescorted. On the other hand, he wouldn't be that long, and he didn't want to seem overbearing. What was the harm?

  "All right. Don't be long. I expect you back here at the wagon in no more than a half hour or so," he told her.

  "Okay. I'll see you then." Smiling, she took his chin in her hand and guided his gaze to hers. "If—if I am a little late, you aren't going to leave me here by myself, are you?"

  Her hands were so soft. He covered the hand on his face with his for a moment, staring back at her, and then they both dropped their hands.

  "I'd never do that," he grumbled. "Now try not to be late, missy."

  Chapter Four

  Kelly had to get away for a brief while, to clear her thoughts, to refocus.

  Remember, you have to get out of here. You have to go home. You don't belong in the wild, wild West—and you sure don't belong with some reformed, Western-style bad boy!

  Kelly walked along the boardwalk, passing the saloon, the hotel, and the small businesses. The scene was surreal to her, at the same time fascinating. There were cowboys and women in long dresses and hats everywhere. From somewhere close, she heard the wail of a train whistle, heralding the Union Pacific coming to town.

  She was really here. This was happening.

  What was even crazier, what was with that kiss back there on the road from the farm?

  If McSwain was truly what he claimed to have been, she was lucky he hadn't ravaged her back there. But, no—Jess McSwain had seemed almost shy after having been kissed. Grinning, she touched her fingertip to her lips, remembering what it had felt like to kiss him.

  A little ravaging, coming from him, wouldn't have been so bad.

  What the heck is wrong with you, she asked herself. One minute, she was livid because he was informing her that she was to follow his "rules." Either that or face another spanking over his knee. The next minute, she was throwing herself at him like some nineteen-century saloon floozie.

  And what was with those people across the street?

  Not everyone was being rude, but enough people had been staring at her ever since she'd left McSwain at the wagon. That made her nervous, though she kept her shoulders squared and her head high.

  Focus. You're not going to be here for long. There's a way home and you are going to find it.

  Her pep talk to herself lifted her spirits, if nothing else. She slowed down as she passed the general store, and then the Sheriff's office, and then, to her delight, the dressmaker's shop. The sign over it read HATTIE'S DRESSES.

  "Ma'am! Ma'am!"

  Kelly turned, surprised that she was the one being addressed. Trotting towards her, wearing a shimmery, dark green dress was a woman in her early thir
ties. She was pretty, though with more rouge and lipstick than necessary at that hour of the day.

  "Yes?" Kelly offered her a smile.

  The young woman looked hesitant, almost afraid. "Pardon me if I'm intruding…"

  "No, not at all."

  She was a prostitute. Kelly wasn't sure how she knew that, but she could usually trust her instincts. The woman folded her arms across her ample chest and gave Kelly a wary smile.

  "That man you rode in with," she began. "He your husband?"

  Kelly could tell the woman looked leery, as if expecting to be ignored or worse. "No. He's not my husband. I'm—I'm only visiting."

  "Oh. Well, that's what I thought." The woman lowered her voice. "He's one of the McSwain brothers. The only one left."

  Wow. It's true. Was there any reason, seriously, to have believed it wasn't? A man would lie about many things. Making himself out to be someone who'd help up people at gunpoint wasn't one of them.

  Kelly froze, saying nothing and waiting for the woman to tell her that McSwain had lied. That he'd killed people. That she was in grave danger and had to get as far away from him as possible.

  "That was some years ago," the prostitute reported. "He's been trying to put that all behind him. Man paid his debt to society. Been trying to turn over a new leaf for a while now. Some people, though—they don't want to let you come up from the ashes."

  Kelly felt the weight of fear falling from her shoulders. "I appreciate you telling me that," she said, also keeping her voice low. "What's your name?"

  "My name?" The painted lady looked surprised. "My real name is Emma."

  "Emma. And I'm Kelly. Thank you."

  The prostitute gave her a pretty smile before turning and hurrying back in the direction from which she'd come. Kelly turned but not before seeing her enter through the door to the saloon.

  She preferred not to dwell on how the prostitute had come to know McSwain, even beyond that of a casual acquaintance. History hadn't exactly been her best subject in school, but she knew enough to know that men outnumbered women out there on the frontier. Cowboys were said to have been frequent visitors to prostitutes' beds.

  That most likely also went for cowboys who had been sought by lawmen.

  He's been trying to put that all behind him.

  From where she stood, Kelly spotted McSwain returning to the wagon. She watched him tossing crates and canvas bags back into the wagon, then gently patting the horse's forehead. He looked around, and he must have been looking for her because he waved when he saw her.

  McSwain waited until she returned to ask, "Ready to go look for your waterfall?"

  "Yes, I am." The fact that he was keeping his promise pleased her.

  "All right, then. See enough of our fair town?"

  "Some. It's bigger than I thought it would be."

  People were looking at him now. Men, mostly. Darkly, as if prepared for any menacing move on McSwain's part.

  He seemed to have trained himself to ignore the stares of others. She allowed him to help her onto the wagon.

  "We can stay if you want to," he suggested. "But we won't have daylight forever."

  "I'd rather go find the portal."

  "All right. See anybody who could maybe tell you where to find it?"

  "No. I didn't speak to anyone at all." She shrugged and watched him take the reins.

  That wasn't the truth. She didn't see any reason to tell him about the young woman who'd dared to approach her, all for the purpose of defending him. Telling him about it didn't seem right to her, as if she were betraying a confidence.

  "Fine. Guess we'll see about getting you home now." McSwain offered her a grin from under his wide-brimmed hat, and once more they took to the road, this time leaving Cheyenne behind them.

  * * * * *

  "There are no lights. I think there should be lights. Bummer."

  McSwain heard the disappointment in Kelly's tone. He was positive it couldn't quite match the depth of his own, which would beset him once she found her entryway back to the world in 2014.

  "What kind of lights?" he asked in a drawl, leaning against a nearby tree.

  "I don't know. They were colorful. They appeared and then they disappeared."

  At her feet, Mimi whimpered and tilted her head to the side in that whimsical way of dogs. Kelly stood overlooking the creek, her brow knit in frustration.

  "We can go in the opposite direction, if you'd like," he offered. "But the current is moving that way. Not sure how far it is to the waterfall…if there is one."

  "Hmmm. What if it's only certain times a year or something?" She was speaking, but it struck McSwain that she was talking to herself.

  The color draining from her face, Kelly crouched down on the ground and clutched Mimi to herself. McSwain stood over her, watching her intensely. He happened to look back at the house belonging to Charles Colton and his wife and saw their wagon out front. Evidently, they had returned.

  "Don't despair, now," he urged. "This doesn't mean we won't find the way back. Might just take a little longer than you thought it would."

  "That's not acceptable. I have to find a way back. And I don't have forever." She flashed him a cross look, her tone testy.

  "Well, I know that's not what you want to hear, Kelly. Don't be so quick to give up hope."

  "Yeah, that's easy for you to say! I bet this has never happened to you. Oh, hell—this has never happened to anyone I know!" Her voice cracked. "I'm so stupid. I'm sorry I ever wandered off that trail."

  "And getting mad at yourself, while at the same time pitying yourself—how's that gonna help you?" McSwain softened his voice. "I may not have ever woken up in another time and place, but I've never had an easy life, either."

  She rose to her feet. With her back to him, she folded her arms across her chest. Kelly didn't say another word.

  "I'll give you a few minutes," he said, shaking his head as he stepped away.

  Better to give us both a few minutes, he told himself. She's afraid and she's upset. And on top of all that, she's stuck with you. Did you really expect her to do a little jig to celebrate that prospect?

  He wasn't in much better spirits himself, though he managed to smile and wave back at Charles. Why couldn't Kelly have been born in his time? Why couldn't he have met her some other way, other than her having fallen through whatever imaginary hole in the universe and landing there, right smack in the middle of his life?

  Knowing Kelly, she wouldn't have been any less stubborn or difficult. At least she wouldn't have had one foot there and one in a time far into the future, a time he couldn't even begin to imagine.

  He understood that she was fearful. That she didn't comprehend what was happening to her. But did she think this was any easier for him? Having to search the woods for an elusive, otherworldly passageway?

  He felt somewhat better seeing the amused smirk on Charles' face. His friend looked about ready to chop some firewood, and behind him Sarah smiled a greeting at McSwain and brought some supplies into the house.

  "What is that woman's fascination with that creek?" Charles asked.

  McSwain chuckled. "If I told you, I doubt you'd believe me."

  Charles' eyebrows rose. "Well, now, that's an interesting answer."

  Where to begin? McSwain hooked his thumbs into his belt. "Charles, let me ask you a question. Have you ever heard of people being able to move from one point in time to another? It's like they go through an invisible door that takes them from one world to another."

  "Ah, now that you mention it…" His friend folded his hands on his ax handle and nodded. "When Sarah and I first came here, we heard a story told by the Indians, something about a man who appeared in these mountains. Long time ago… a man who dressed very strangely. Like a soldier, but not any soldier you've ever seen before. He kept talking about a cave he'd fallen into."

  "That's what happened to Kelly. A cave behind a waterfall." McSwain took in a deep breath. "What happened to the soldier?"


  "Oh, I don't know. I didn't pay much attention to the story. It was mysterious, sure, but it didn't make any sense to me. A man falling into a cave and ending up in another—"

  Hearing the splashing behind him, McSwain tipped his hat to his friend in apology. "Excuse me, Charles."

  Now what mischief was that woman up to? She was swimming? Maybe some of her craziness was rubbing off on him, because he could sort of understand that. Perhaps once she was in the water, or even under its surface, she would be better able to find the entrance back to her world.

  Then McSwain saw it. There, hanging on the branch of a tree, was the dress Kelly had been wearing all day long.

  He shot a look into the creek and his eyes widened. Kelly wasn't completely naked, but she was showing more feminine flesh than he'd seen in a long while. She dove underneath the water, and before she did, he saw her scantily clad bottom—shiny, pink fabric covered her pretty, chubby cheeks and her shapely legs—that disappeared under the water with her.

  When she emerged for air, he found his voice. The arousal he'd felt before was nothing compared to what he was going through now.

  "You get your behind out of there right now, woman!" McSwain barked.

  Kelly slicked her hair back with one hand. "Do you mind? I'm looking for that stupid portal!" she tossed back at him.

  "You look for it in your clothes!" He yanked her dress from the branch. "You come on out of that water. Now, woman."

  Embarrassed, McSwain held the dress in front of him, trying to hide the throbbing bulge in his pants. He couldn't tell if Kelly had noticed it or not, but her mouth formed a playful smile.

  "There's no portal in here. But the water feels nice. Why don't you join me?" Her demeanor was playful. Flirtatious. Maddening.

  "She's in there? Swimming?" Charles called out from behind McSwain.

  "Charles—stay back!" McSwain cried, but it was too late. Both Charles and Sarah had come to see what was happening.

  "Oh! That woman's indecent!" Sarah covered her husband's eyes with her hands. "What is wrong with that crazy woman, McSwain?"