Blood and Dust @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } Blood and Dust  D. McEntire  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000."  Cover Artist: Reese Dante Editor: Alison Todd  Blood and Dust © 2010 D. McEntire ISBN # 978-1-920468-15-6 All rights reserved.  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.  PUBLISHER SILVER PUBLISHING http://www.silverpublishing.info   CHAPTER ONE  Texas, 1865.  Furry ears stood at attention, listening. Bri inched forward, going unnoticed until the snap of a twig beneath her foot echoed among the trees. Her quarry bolted, disappearing into the thick foliage and taking with it her spirit. "Dang it all," she cursed, then jerked in surprise at her vulgar language. Unconsciously, her hand flew up to cover her mouth. The memory no one could have heard her outburst came crushing down upon her; she was alone. Bri slumped to the ground in despair. Late evening now, she'd been hunting since the sun set low enough for her to leave the cave she had called home for the last two weeks. Exhaustion threatened to overtake her. Empty handed, the painful squeeze of her stomach served as a reminder of how long she had been without food. The lack of food held more danger than just an aching emptiness in her gut. Bri feared going much longer without what she needed would drive her insane. An unstable vampire was a dangerous vampire. She closed her eyes while her mind raced with panic. As it were, one unstable vampire already stalked the area. In her mind, that was one too many. A distant sound caught her attention. Bri stiffened. Holding her breath she prayed her imagination wasn't the cause. She waited for the noise to reach her again. The thundering of hooves and braying of cattle slowly grew in intensity, closing in on her location. Bri felt a tinge of relief. Though she normally ate regular food, she knew blood alone would hold her awhile. Bri's stomach growled again. An image of biting one of the foul beasts and drinking its blood to satisfy her hunger made her gag, but her stomach was too empty to retch. Taking a deep breath Bri steeled her resolve, telling herself if she didn't do this she would go mad. The fear of hurting some human held her in a state of anxiety each time she failed to capture prey. Finding the cattle, Bri watched the men on horses slow the beasts to a stop and marveled at their skill. She waited in the shadows until the humans made camp and the longhorns were settled for the night. Gathering her control and courage, she set out to do what she dreaded. Bri crept along the grass and shrubs adjacent to the cattle, intent on her hunt, until she noticed a yellow and orange flickering light. The sway of tree branches popped it in and out of view. Men's voices murmured along the breeze. The aroma of food hit her -- a siren's call to her stomach. The snort of a horse and the creak of leather froze her in her tracks. Peering over the tall grass, she set eyes on a rider watching over the part of the herd closest to her. After a few moments, the man walked his horse further down the line of longhorns. Bri felt the blood return to her head. She moved forward again, though she didn't have the slightest idea what she was going to do once she got there.  * * * *  The smell of coffee had Brody McAllister's legs traveling of their own accord in the direction of the camp. His muscles ached from the long ride and he was ready to settle for the night and rest his dusty eyes. On reaching the fire he stretched his long legs where he stood and released a groan. After being on the trail several weeks, they were finally close to Fort Worth -- the town where most drivers stopped for a short rest before heading north across the Red River and into Indian Territory. The trips seemed to get longer and harder every time, Brody thought with a mental sigh as he dusted off his hat and then ran a hand over the back of his sweat covered neck. He often wondered if the rough job caused his father seemed to age so quickly -- as if the man's body had given out long before his mind started to tire. With a long exhale, he shoved his hat back on his head to cover his grimy hair and accepted a cup of coffee from Frank's outstretched hand. "Sit." Frank's voice was raspy, and Brody knew the roughness to not be from age alone; dust played a good part in it today. Full-blooded Cherokee, the man spoke in drawn out, liquid tones which sounded to Brody almost like a song. Brody thanked him and sat on the other side of the thick log Frank occupied. He glanced over at the man, who was now the same age as his father before he left this world. Frank was also a friend and confidant. Brody thought of how long Frank had been a part of the family. The man helped raise him, and taught him the ways of ranching, cattle driving, hunting, and tracking when his father had been too busy to do so. "You think we'll make good time to Fort Worth?" Brody asked after taking a sip of his coffee, and trying not to wince at the bitter taste. Frank sipped his own coffee and nodded. "Yep." Brody smiled over the rim of his cup at how Frank didn't say much in the way of words. Most of the time his answers were riddles, which aggravated the tar out of Brody because it meant he had to pay attention to each word in order to understand the whole meaning -- what was said as well as what was not said. As Brody swallowed another sip of coffee he watched a bedraggled, dust-covered Eli, the sixteen year old son of one of the hands, carry a bucket of water to the cook. A corner of Brody's mouth tipped up. Seeing Eli scurry about the camp doing whatever he was told brought memories of himself at the same age, on the trail with his father. He'd done it all: wrangled horses, drove the wagons, and even ate dirt everyday with the rest of the hands on drag. It didn't matter how far behind the herd you rode, when you rode drag you were responsible for pulling up the rear and keeping the longhorns moving forward. You breathed and ate dust and dirt every minute of the day. A pang of loss squeezed his chest with the thought of his father. The man had been gone from his life a little over a year now. The noises around the campfire brought Brody out of his memories. He scanned the camp and took in the sight of his men. In a couple of years most of the long haul would no longer be necessary. With the railroad making its way into these parts, the herd would be driven to the depot planned for Fort Worth where the cattle would then be loaded onto the train and carted off to the highest bidder. No longer would there be a need for them to drive the beasts through Oklahoma and into Kansas themselves. The thought of giving up the long cattle drives brought a sense of relief, but it also brought a bit of sorrow. He'd been on this trail every year since turning fourteen, proving his worth to his father. "Aw, shit!" His attention caught by the not so muffled curses spewed by Cookie, Brody turned in the direction of the chow wagon to see the cook shaking his hand. The man waved it in the air several times, then stopped and shoved his fingers into his mouth. Chuckling at the sight, Brody stood and wandered over to the Dutch oven by the campfire. "Hell, Cookie. I think I'd rather have my biscuits without your burned skin in 'em, if'n you don't mind." Cookie glared, still sucking on the two fingers he held in his mouth, as he raised his other hand to wipe sweat off of his forehead. "Bewy fuwy," he said around the digits in his mouth. Still laughing, Brody turned and strode to his saddle and bedroll, which he'd placed next to one of the wagons. After surveying the area around the camp he carried them off to what seemed to be a good resting spot. Dropping his saddle, it hit the ground with a thud and a clink. Brody knelt and rummaged inside his saddle bags for soap, a wash cloth, a toothbrush, and tooth powder. Finding his comb in the bottom, he pulled it out as well. Finally having what he needed to feel somewhat like a civilized person again, Brody headed for the creek.  * * * *  Bri reached the edge of the trees; beyond it lay the open area of the men's camp. To one side she saw a covered wagon and heard the clang of pots and pans. Men sat around the fire, talking, laughing, and eating. Watching them enjoy their meal was torture. Her mouth watered and pain surged through her stomach as the aroma of their dinner wafted to her nose. Something sweet and familiar struck her. Fresh baked bread. Bri almost groaned aloud before the cook caught her attention: he was walking in her direction. To keep from being discovered, she held herself perfectly still. The man neared, stopped in front a saddle on the ground, and carefully placed a tin next to a cup, balancing both atop the saddle's seat before returning to the pot steaming over the fire. Bri took in the sight of what lay on the tin. Her eyes widened. Sprawled on the metal lay a heaping pile of stew. A large piece of bread rested on top, and she could actually see the edges of the bread soak up the liquid of the stew. The food called to her and she wanted it; now. Making another assessment of the proximity of the men to the saddle -- mere feet from where she hid -- she eased forward, crouching so low her stomach brushed the ground. She could do this, she told herself. She must, or she would crumble into nothing and blow away with the wind. Almost there . The unmistakable click of a gun close to the back of her head made her freeze and suck in a breath. "Don't move." The command was spoken in a low, stern voice. "Put your hands up where I can see them." Bri couldn't breathe, and she didn't know what to do. Finally, unable to hold her breath any longer, she exhaled slowly. Trying to achieve normal breathing again, she inhaled through her nose. The scent threw her off-guard: leather, musk, and man. Her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. She was caught and knew nothing about the man standing behind her, or his intentions. Mayhap she should just explain her own intentions and he'd let her go, she thought in an effort to calm her racing mind. "Please. I only want food. I mean no harm." She couldn't keep the tremble out of her voice. "I reckon we can spare some eats, lest you be a sneak thief. Stand up and turn around slow like." He will discover I'm not a man. The thought brought another wave of panic. She hadn't seen any women at the camp; a lone woman with a group of men was not only improper, it was dangerous . . . for her. Bri mentally berated herself for having made the mistake of trying for the stew. Her mind raced as she considered what would be needed to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.  * * * *  Brody waited while the man in front of him raised his hands so he was sure a piece with a steel barrel wasn't hidden, waiting to put a hole through him. As he'd been heading off to the creek, movement in the shadows caught his attention. He'd waited several moments until the shadowed figure had moved forward, toward camp. Knowing Indians could be anywhere in these parts, and not all were friendly, he'd made his way in the direction of the shadow -- slow and easy. With a single step in retreat to put more space between himself and the man crouched in front of him, Brody barked the order again. "Stand up slowly." Brody watched intently as the man stood to his full height, hands still held in the air. From the size of the stranger, Brody figured him to be young. The man spoke in a soft voice, so soft Brody strained his ears to hear the request for food. Though guilt tugged at him at the tremble he noticed in the man's hands, he didn't waver in standing his ground. Brody waited for the stranger to turn around and face him. The sound of footsteps approaching caught Brody's attention. The disturbance momentarily made him lose focus and remove his gaze from the stranger, but not before he noticed the young man flinch. "Brody? Brody, you need any help?" Brody recognized Lil' Dave's booming voice moments before the man's large frame came into view. The driver was big enough to hunt bears with a switch, Brody thought with an inward smile. Before he could answer the stranger spun around, ducked under his outstretched arm, which held his pistol, and took off at a dead run through the bushes and trees. The speed at which the man moved almost made Brody's jaw drop. In the blink of an eye the stranger faded into the darkness, but not before his hat flew off his head and Brody saw a long, black braid tumble down his back. As Lil' Dave stepped through the tree line, Brody walked to where the hat lay on the ground and picked it up. "What ya got there, Brody?" Lil' Dave said in his rumbling drawl. Brody ignored the question as he stared at the object he held in his hands. Running the past few minutes through his mind, he pictured the young man in his head, making a mental note of the man's build and height. The young man's trembling hands made a mental appearance. Damn. That was a woman! Brody turned and stalked toward the camp with Lil' Dave on his heels, only halting a moment to retrieve the washing items he'd left on the ground before confronting the stranger. When he reached the campfire, all eyes settle on him before their gazes lowered to the hat he held in his hands. "Trouble?" Frank asked, setting down his tin and picking up his cup. Brody thought a moment about what to say to his men. He certainly didn't think telling a group of fourteen men, who had been on a long, hard trail for several weeks now, that a lone woman wandered about the area to be a good idea. "No. Just some saddle tramp. Said he was lookin' for food but skedaddled like greased lightnin' when he saw Lil' Dave." Brody ran a hand over the hat, still deep in thought. "Reckon he thought a bear was a comin'," Cookie shouted, which started an eruption of laughter from the men around the fire before Brody raised his hands in a gesture for them to lower their voices lest the herd get spooked by the sudden noise. Returning to his saddle and bedroll, Brody saw the tin of food and let out a long breath. His gut insisted the stranger had been a woman. She said she only wanted food, but instead of getting any she bolted out of fear. Somewhere out there sat a woman, alone and hungry, and he couldn't help but feel responsible. Perhaps she had children. The thought almost made his stomach lurch. If she had come searching for food to feed her family and hadn't been successful . . . Brody fought the urge to sling his food into the fire. What he'd done was a sin to Moses. His fist clenched around the hat and his back teeth rubbed together as his jaw set. He had to find her, but when did he have time? They took to the trail tomorrow. Besides, what in tarnation sort of tale would he spin to excuse staying another day or two, or for slowing their pace when they were so close to Fort Worth and some much needed rest? Finally, his mind quieted enough to form an idea. The hat was damp, which told him the woman must have been around the creek at some time, perhaps to bathe. Grabbing his tin and a canteen he headed to the creek, praying his hunch to be right. He planned to leave the items for her in the hopes she'd find them.   CHAPTER TWO  Bri's heart thudded in her chest as she ran through the trees, keeping her hands out in front of her in an effort to push aside branches before they tried to take her head off. She'd come perilously close to being caught by a group of men. With each step Bri's thoughts turned from anger at herself for thinking she could get away with stealing food, especially with so many people around, to fear at what could have happened. If she'd been taken, how would she shelter herself during the day? How would she explain her skin smoking like her father's pipe when touched by sunlight? Reaching the creek, Bri practically collapsed on the ground. Her breath came in quick gasps, more from the scare than the run. Tears formed behind her lashes as she thought about the food -- food she'd been so close to getting. The realization she was going to spend the rest of the night hungry, then wake tomorrow evening with the same gnawing hunger, was almost her undoing. Why hadn't she heard the man who'd snuck up behind her? Had she been so lost in wanting food she'd let her guard down? The reality made her feel lightheaded. She had totally lost focus and risked her life. Footsteps in the brush silenced her thoughts. Bri pushed herself to her feet and drove her legs forward again, rushing to the trees standing tall behind a group of rocks. As quickly as she could she climbed the nearest one and hid within the leaves, where she remained as still as possible. Into the clearing walked a tall, lean man. He carried a tin in one hand and a canteen in the other. The smell hit her like a punch to the gut -- he had food. Bri tried to rein in her hunger enough to let her mind think. What was he up to? Why would he bring food to the creek? Was he trying to coax her out of hiding? Grasping the branches tightly in her hands, she willed herself to ignore the aroma filing her nostrils. Bri grit her teeth and felt somewhat insulted. Did he think she would fall for the trap like a hungry animal? When the man walked nearer to where Bri hid, and she found herself able to discern his features, her heart skipped a beat. Long, wavy hair spilled from under his hat over his shoulders and muscular thighs strained the fabric of his trousers as he made long, purposeful strides toward the creek. A familiar scent hit her, and for a few moments she forgot about the food and its enticing aroma. The man with the gun. Bri's eyes went wide at the realization. What is he doing here? He placed the items on a tall rock before straightening, and then took a long look around the area. Bri knew who he searched for: her. After a few moments he moved nearer the water's edge, where he sat on the ground and pulled off his boots and socks. Standing once more, he unbuttoned his shirt and placed it on top of his boots. His trousers soon followed, letting them pool at his ankles before stepping out the legs and setting them on top his shirt. Bri gasped. Her hand quickly covered her mouth to stifle the sound as she watched the man undress. She teetered between relief and disappointment when she noticed he didn't remove his undergarment. The improper thought both shocked and thrilled her. After he stepped into the water, he waded deeper before going under, then resurfaced a few moments later. Bri's grasp on the branch in front of her tightened; desire to leap from her perch, strip off her clothes, and join him grew stronger with each passing moment. What would it be like to play in the water with someone? To laugh with someone again? Loneliness made her chest ache and tears begin to pool in her eyes once again, but she pushed them back. Bri settled herself as comfortably as she could while the man swam. After several minutes he waded to the shore and his clothes. As he stood with his back to her and used his shirt to dry himself, Bri could see every curve and line of his taut backside through the material of his wet unmentionables, which clung to him indecently. His movements were slow and fluid. Muscles rippled and bunched as he ran his shirt over his skin like a towel. Bri's mouth went dry, and her fingers itched to feel them bunch and flex under her fingertips. Too soon, he was dry and pulling on his trousers before he sat and donned his socks and boots. Dressed from the waist down, the man stood and surveyed the area once more. After what she thought to be a slight shrug of his shoulders, he disappeared into the trees. Bri closed her eyes. Though she had not interacted with the man, she felt the loss of his presence nonetheless. Just as she shifted to leave the sanctum of the tree, another scent wafted on the night breeze -- one that froze her in place and sent chills down her spine. A man, her senses told her, but there was more. Danger and malevolence mingled. This kept Bri rooted in place. Whoever he was, she told herself, he hid within the shadows, blending among the trees. She had no doubt he waited for her to show herself. Keeping as still as possible, Bri remained on her perch, hoping the man would grow impatient. Finally, he did. Seeming to give up, he began walking in the opposite direction of where she hid in the tree. Booted steps heralded his departure. When she could no longer sense or hear him, Bri dropped lightly from the tree and landed in a crouch. Cautiously, she remained still a few moments before making her move to retrieve the tin and canteen resting on the rock. Her first thought was of the food's contents. Was it safe to eat? She had no idea if the man who brought it intended her harm, but holding back was killing her more surely. Deciding to take her chances, she grabbed the tin and canteen and bolted in the direction of her hidden shelter.  * * * *  Brody entered camp and ignored the questioning expression on Frank's face. The man was stretched out not far from his own spot. He knew it grew late, leaving not many hours until dawn, when it would be time to get a move on once again. After yanking on his damp shirt with aggravated tugs, he unrolled his tarp and spread it out on the grass, then laid his bedroll on top for what cushioning it could provide. Stretching out his legs, he propped his head on his saddle and gazed up at the black sky and its myriad of stars. Brody's thoughts kept returning to the woman. Who was she? Where did she come from? And what the Sam Hill was she doing out here in the middle of nowhere? He hoped she found the tin and would have the gumption to come out of hiding. If she did he would do whatever he could to help her and see to it she stayed safe. He'd take her with him to Fort Worth, where she would be a hell of a lot safer than she was out here. If she didn't reveal herself, well, he was at sea at what to do about it.   Dawn's arrival spread streaks of blue, pink, and purple across the eastern sky. Brody grimaced as he stood and attempted to work the kinks from his back. No matter how many years he spent sleeping outdoors with the Earth as his bed, his body never got used to it. Brody hadn't slept but a few winks through the night. He had even been awake for the watch change. It was going to be one long, hard day, he thought on a groan. Steeling himself to face it, he rolled up his bedroll and the tarp, affixed them to his saddle, and then walked toward the chow wagon for a cup of strong, black coffee, feeling it to be a two or three cup morning. "You look like hell," Frank said, amusement lacing his voice. Brody scowled at him, purposely ignoring the gleam in his mentor's eyes. "You don't look so grand yourself," he retorted. With a chuckle Frank flung the remaining drops of his coffee into the fire and headed for the horses to help the team's wrangler saddle and ready them for another day's work. As Brody prepared to heft his own saddle, he noticed Cookie walking toward him, looking ready to clean someone's plow. Brody grimaced. He knew exactly who, and what, had Cookie all riled up. "Brody, we're missin', a tin. What'd ya' do wit yers last evenin'?" Brody turned and stared at the man, who had one eye narrowed on him as if squinting in the sunlight. "I left it at the creek. Don't worry about it." Brody walked away from Cookie, ignoring the man's muttered curses. He needed to saddle up and didn't have time to split hairs with Cookie over a tin. Not only that, he was just plain not in the mood. He had intentionally left the tin and the canteen at the creek in hopes the woman would find it. She'd said she was hungry, and seeing as how it had been him that kept her from getting grub when she'd asked, he'd found it only fitting to make up for his mistake.  * * * *  A sigh escaped Bri's lips as her eyelids fluttered and opened slowly. She could feel the coming of night all around her. She was also alone, once again. When she settled down in her make-shift shelter just before dawn she'd known the cattle drivers would move on; but facing the reality of it now made her heart ache. Bri looked down at the tin and canteen on the ground beside her. The stranger left it for her at the creek last night -- heaped with food -- and though thankful, she hadn't dared make a trip to his camp to return them. Once again she found herself the sole person in this vast wilderness, with only the sounds of the night for comfort. Thoughts of the man from the camp popped into her head yet again. How did he manage to approach her unawares? She must have lost her focus badly to allow such a thing, and a mistake like that could cost her life. He could have been a rapist or killer, and then what would she have done? She didn't doubt she could take care of herself, but at what price? The only way she could escape such a man would be to kill him. Bri cringed at the thought. She'd never killed anyone, nor did she ever want to. Unlike her brother, Trevor; just thinking about him brought a chill down her spine, and Bri found herself unable to stop the unwelcome memories from surfacing. As children they'd played together, and watched over one another, until Trevor reached the early stage of manhood. The once joyful gleam in his eyes turned to something else, something she hadn't been able understand, but feared nonetheless. Her father noticed it, too. Father. Bri shook her head, trying to ease the pain at the remembered loss of her father. He'd always been kind to her and her brother, though his patience and concern for Trevor had worn him down. Bri knew it had been mixture of that and the fact they'd had to move from place to place, never able to settle in one spot for very long, making him so tired. In an effort to ease her mind from the sad memories, Bri picked up the tin and canteen and carried them to the creek. While washing the tin she took the time to study more on the man who it seemed had stolen into her thoughts and made a place for himself there. Even as she slept she dreamed about him; standing in the shadows, just far enough away for her not to be able to see his face clearly. A breeze rippled across the water of the creek and whistled through the trees. Bri closed her eyes and listened. The sounds around her were all she had to keep her company in this strange place; too much idle time kept the thoughts and memories alive. She needed something else -- something to do, something to take her mind off of her dire situation. A sudden thought made a smile tug at her face. Perhaps it was time for an adventure, she told herself. Besides, she reasoned, she had nothing better to do. Her senses were far better than a human's, why not test them by searching for the drivers' next camp? She'd make a game of it. Reality of her true situation slammed into her mind -- shelter. She would have to find shelter before dawn each morning or face the consequences. Consequences? She was in the middle of nowhere, alone, and hungry. What could be worse? Death? Bri shook her head. Death would be a gift, her mind retorted. The decision made, she stood and searched for her hat, momentarily forgetting she'd lost it last night during her flight after the man found her sneaking around their camp. Bri tightened the rope she used as a sash on the oversized pants she wore, and tucked the shirt further down the legs. She found she enjoyed wearing men's clothes; they offered her a freedom not found in the dresses and elaborate gowns she'd worn in Europe and New York. She could almost feel the tight whale-bone corset cutting off her breath and squeezing her internal organs until she felt as though she would faint. She didn't miss the hoops or petticoats, or the other twenty pounds of clothing she wore whether it be warm or cold. What she did miss, however, were the beautiful colors and fabrics. Turning her head to gaze at her surroundings, Bri knew she would never wear such fineries again. Not here. After filling the canteen with water, she stared at the tin a moment, trying to decide whether to take it on her journey or leave it at the creek. She wouldn't need a tin to eat. An image of the cattle driver sifted though her mind, and her heart skipped a beat as she smiled. The tin served as a memory of him, like a memento. No, she told herself, she would not leave it behind.   CHAPTER THREE  The sun dipped low in the horizon, leaving the sky with beautiful, swirling colors. Bri kept a brisk pace, as she was able to travel at a much faster speed than any human. A screech owl cried in the distance as she followed the well worn trail of stomped grass and upturned soil left by the cattle. Anticipation grew at the thought of seeing the man again. Then what? Her mind was right, and her heart felt it, too. Following the man to wherever he was going was pure folly, not to mention useless. When he reached whatever town he planned to sell his cattle, he would return home, where ever that may be. Home . Had she ever had a home? Her time in New York came to mind once again as she walked. She pictured the hotel where she lived with her father and brother for the last two years. Those two years had been hard on her father, and she recalled how worn his face had become; he seemed to age several years in a very short amount of time. Bri quickened her pace, going from a fast walk to a jog, then a run, trying to outrun the painful memories and the ache in her chest. She spent many nights during the past two weeks crying over being left alone in this land; she would not cry now. Several miles fell beneath her feet before the distant bellow of longhorns rang in her ears. She'd found them. A planned formed in her head. She'd get closer to where they stopped for camp, then make a quick hunt for shelter. When the time came to escape the daylight, she had to know where to go. Climbing a small hill, she gazed down at the herd, watching the drivers push them into a tighter group. She circled the hillside while keeping an eye on the cattle and the two men watching over the herd. At the base the hill, on the opposite side from the longhorns, two large boulders lay against one another, creating a small burrow she figured would adequately serve as shelter during the day. Relieved at having her worse fear settled, she made a mental note of the location and then skirted the hill, keeping low so as to not be noticed. Grass waist high, it provided cover as Bri crouched and duck-walked her way past the herd, heading for the amber glow of the campfire.  * * * *  The clang of pots seemed to ring out into the night, Brody thought, while entering camp and dusting off his hat on his leg as he walked. Thanks to a few of the herd who decided to break from the rest and head off in another direction, the team were settled in for the evening later than normal. When Frank handed him a cup of black coffee, Brody nodded his thanks, his throat too dry with trail dust to speak. The man's grin said he understood. Brody watched Frank take a spot on the ground; the man sat with his back against a tree stump and his legs stretched out before him, ankles crossed. Frank looked very much at home out here, Brody mused. Taking a huge gulp of coffee to wet his windpipe, Brody turned and assessed the area. The full moon lit not only the hills on both sides, but also the valley in which the herd were bedded for the evening. His legs ached, as did every bone in his body. Lack of sleep the night before, and then riding over twelve hours today, made him feel as though he'd lost several years off his life. Brody let out a soft groan as he made his way to where his saddle lay on the ground. Unhooking his bedroll and tarp, he set to laying them out. When he was finished, he propped his back against his saddle and stretched out his sore legs, almost mimicking Frank's relaxed position. One of the men pulled out a harmonica and began to play a soothing melody. After a few notes, another brandished his guitar, placed it over his lap, and joined the song. The music relaxing, Brody found himself fighting to stay awake. "You sleep now, you miss dinner." Frank's raspy voice jerked Brody back to consciousness. Brody sighed long and hard. "Yeah. I know. Just restin' my eyes." He heard Frank snort and knew the Indian didn't believe his excuse. Prying his eyes open and forcing them to stay that way, he noticed a shooting star soar across the dark sky, a long tail in its wake as it finally winked out. The sight made Brody smile as he stared into the vast darkness speckled by millions of flickering lights. "Won't be long. Makin' good time to Fort Worth." Brody turned his face to see Frank nod in agreement. The man pulled a clay pipe from his saddlebag and stuffed it with his own brand of smoke. After a few moments the Indian stood and poked a stick into the fire, then brought the small flame to his pipe. He dipped the glowing tip of the stick inside his pipe while sucking on the mouthpiece, lighting the dried leaves. Puffs of smoke rose from the pipe and ringed the old man, seemingly wrapping him like a blanket or warm embrace. Brody blinked several times to clear his eyes of the illusion. He must be really tired, he thought as he watched Frank toss the stick into the fire and return to his slouched position against the stump. The smell of Frank's smoke was sweet; Brody could remember smelling it all his life. It was an indication the man was near before he caught sight of him. Brody realized the scent brought him comfort, just like Frank's presence. Brody turned his head and glanced around at the men. A few smoked their own rolled cigarettes, and others drank a little too much, especially while in town. Allowing his lids to close once more, Brody tried to come up with a reason as to why he never cared much for coffin nails or bug juice. "Come get yer' eats!" Cookie called, but Brody didn't feel like moving. The music stopped abruptly as the men headed for the chow wagon to fill their plates, and though his stomach growled in protest, Brody still had no desire to move. After a few minutes a shadow fell across his face, and he cracked open one eye. Frank stood over him, pipe in one hand and a tin of food in the other. Though no emotion showed on his friend's face, Brody didn't miss the gleam of amusement in the old man's eyes. With a grunt of effort, Brody sat up and accepted the tin, and this time he was able to voice his thanks. Frank was one to ride the river with, Brody told himself as he picked up his fork. The man had always been there for him; he seemed to watch over Brody even more closely since the death of his father. The sounds of the harmonica and guitar filled the night once again. After just a few bites of food Brody found he didn't have the appetite his stomach imagined. With each spoonful he thought more about the woman. Where was she now? Brody couldn't get her out of his head. The thought of a woman out there alone and hungry still gnawed at him, eating at his insides. Women were to be protected, his mind screamed in protest. They were to be kept safe, healthy, and happy, with a roof over their head, nice duds on their bodies, and food in their bellies. They were to be loved and cherished. Unable to take another bite, Brody laid his tin on his bedroll. He stood and ran a hand over his face, grimacing at how dirty it felt under his fingers, not that they were any cleaner. "I'm heading for the pond to wash up," he told Frank as he grabbed soap and a cloth from his saddle bags. As he took a step to leave, he stopped. For some reason, which he decided he was too tired to ponder, he reached down and picked up the tin of food and took it with him. He had no idea why the thought occurred to him, but went along with it anyway. The moon lit a nice path to the pond. Brody passed one of his men, on guard for the first shift, and tipped his hat as he walked by. Once he reached the water he placed the tin on a rock and took the soap and cloth to the water's edge.  * * * *  The sound of heavy footsteps caught Bri's attention. She stopped, and sank lower into the tall grass. After a moment she saw a shadow come out of the darkness. It was him. Bri's breath caught in her throat, and her heart sped up, at seeing the man again. He seemed to glide through the grass with every stride. She noticed he carried something in his hand. Immediately, her nose told her it was food. After he passed the spot where she lay in the grass, she began to slowly inch forward to follow. Before she got too close she eased around the other side of the pond, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. The man walked to the pond and put down his tin, then went over to the water. His swagger, slow strides and low-slung hips, charmed her. He was the most graceful man she had ever seen. Dropping a bar of soap and a cloth on the ground, he removed his hat and let it fall as well, and then began unbuttoning his shirt. Bri's heart stuttered, and her palms began to sweat. He is going to remove his shirt again! The other night, when he undressed down to his drawers and swam in the creek, she had been too far away to really appreciate what her eyes were being blessed with. Unlike now. Tanned flesh with muscles that bulged and rippled as he peeled off his shirt stole her breath. A part of her demanded she close her eyes -- her upbringing telling her seeing his nakedness was improper -- but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The sight of him bare-chested made her mouth water, and her fingers craved the feel of his skin. Never had she experienced such urges, and it thrilled her. It was all Bri could manage to keep her feet planted in place; they threatened to pull her forward, listening to her hands and fingers as they conspired to force her to get close enough to touch his flesh. The man crouched and sat back on his heels. Bri watched him dip the cloth in the water, then rub soap over it several times before sliding the soapy cloth over one arm. After a few minutes, he cupped water in the other hand and rinsed away the suds. He did the same to his other arm before moving to his chest. When he smoothed the cloth over the wide expanse, Bri almost groaned. Water beaded on his flesh as the rivulets slid downward in slow motion to disappear into the top of his pants. Bri felt tortured as she watched the man bathe. Wiping her palms on her pants for the millionth time, she tried to stay calm and keep her breathing quiet. After rinsing his chest, the man cleaned his face and neck, then bent and washed his hair. When he straightened, his shoulder-length hair hung down his back, trails of water running down his skin to once again disappear out of sight. Closing her eyes, Bri tried to remember how to breathe again. She knew what she saw would replay in her dreams for many days to come, but didn't mind in the least. As she crouched in the grass with her eyes closed, a new scent came to her attention. Something dangerous drew near, and it only took a moment before she heard a deep rumble. Bri's eyes flew open. She immediately looked at the man and noticed he'd heard the sound as well. Smart man. Using her keen night vision she searched for the source of the sound. She had no definite idea as to what she looked for, but knew whatever the beast may be, it caused the hair to stand on her arms and the back of her neck. After a few minutes of scanning, she found it. Within the tall grass, not far from the pond, a set of glowing yellow eyes pierced the darkness. Glancing at the man once more she could tell he had not yet caught sight of the animal's position. When the creature eased forward a little more, Bri saw in complete detail what stalked the man, her man. A large cat, more massive than any of the alley cats she had ever seen in any of the cities she'd visited, slunk out of the shadows. In what seemed like a split second, the cat burst forward, straight toward the man. Bri didn't hesitate, her only thought to protect the stranger who had enspelled her mind, and, it seemed, her heart; she would not allow the cat to hurt him. With as much speed as she could gather, Bri left her hiding spot in the grass and sprinted towards the man, wanting, no, needing to reach him before the cat did. The cat left the ground to lunge at him and bring him down like prey. Bri sprang into the air, slamming into the cat with such force they both hit the ground hard. They were both on their feet quickly, ready to face one another. Shards of pain spread down her arm. Bri winced and let out a hiss. Chancing a glance, she saw a rent in her shirt from where the cat's massive claws had torn her flesh, it began at her shoulder and stopped at her elbow. Blood trailed down her arm, soaking into the fabric. Her eyes met the cat's and they commenced a staring contest, competing to see which of them would back down first. The cat began to shift back and forth in agitation, but Bri stood her ground, pushing aside her fear of facing this large creature. Seemingly losing its interest in her, Bri watched the cat turn its focus on the man, and she started to panic. Her mind raced for a solution. She growled until the predator returned its attention to her once more. With a loud hiss, she bared her fangs, giving the cat a taste of its own medicine. As if deciding it no longer found its quarry appealing, or at least not enough to fight for, the cat turned and loped in the direction from which it came. Bri almost sagged in relief as she watched its long tail disappear into the grass. When the sound of its retreat faded, the reality of what had happened came crashing down on her, and she gasped. In showing her dangerous side to the cat, she'd shown it to the man as well. Her true self -- fangs and all. Slowly, she turned, and saw him staring at her. His face held no expression, which worried her even more. If she saw fear or loathing, though it would hurt immensely, she could understand, but to see nothing was disturbing. What was he thinking? The horror of what she had done was too much. Though she knew her intentions were honorable and would not hesitate to do it again, her stomach knotted at the outcome. Bri clenched her hands into fists at her sides to halt their shaking. The man made no move. Several more moments passed in silence. She decided to leave quickly, before the hue and cry he was sure to raise caused the men to hunt her down like the animal she portrayed only moments ago. Sucking in a breath at the thought, she tucked her injured arm close to her chest, turned, and scurried up the hill behind her. Then she ran as fast as her legs would carry her, not stopping until she reached the trees. Bri leaned against a tall pine and tried to catch her breath, ignoring the blinding pain in her arm. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Her little game was definitely over, because the next time she was seen around the men's camp either the man, or one of his men, would most certainly shoot her. Pushing away from the tree, Bri forced herself to move forward. There was nothing left to do but return to the rocky shelter she discovered earlier. She needed to stop the bleeding until she slept and her body healed itself during the daylight. Dawn was still hours away, but she didn't care. Her shoulders slumped with her growing sadness. At least she was no longer hungry, Bri thought; she'd lost her appetite with the recent events. When Bri reached the two boulders on the side of the hill she sank to her knees beside one of the big rocks and put her face in her hands. Her heart was in tatters. She had found something to keep her spirits up while she struggled to stay alive and sane in this vast nowhere. Bri had planned on making a game of tracking the cattle drivers and watching the man she'd found so alluring. It had been something to keep her going; something to look forward to. Now she didn't dare go anywhere near him again. What did he think of her now? Her chest ached at the question in her mind. Surely he thought her a monster . . . and a monster was a danger to his herd.   CHAPTER FOUR  Brody stood on the side of the pond, running the events of the last few minutes through his head: a woman in a skirmish with a mountain lion, on purpose. How in tarnation did she not get killed? Standing in the still of the night, hearing nothing but the sound of the cattle and the bugs singing their night songs, Brody found himself transfixed as if his feet were planted in the dirt. The only part moving on him was his mind, replaying the scene before unblinking eyes. He saw himself washing the dirt from his skin and hair. He heard the sound of the cat. He watched the mountain lion coming toward him from out of the high grass, then in a split second it was in the air. Just as it came close enough for its outstretched claws to rip into his skin, a blur of movement passed in front of him. The cat suddenly shifted direction, flying sideways. It hit the dirt with a loud thud and slid several feet. Two forms lay on the ground barely a yard from where here stood, unmoving for several heartbeats until both shifted and struggled to their feet. Brody felt his chest tighten when he realized what had collided with the cat, or rather whom. A person, whom he recognized as the woman in man's clothing he'd come across at the last camp, stood mere paces away from the beast, her shirt sleeve torn and bloody. The image continued, showing how the cat turned once more in his direction and the loud, feral hiss that reached his ears, though the cat's mouth did not move. The woman stood with feet apart, her hands out as if ready to attack the cat once more. Her mouth was open, showing a set of teeth no ordinary man, or woman, possessed. If he wasn't so struck stupid by it all, he probably would have laughed recalling the expression on the cat's face at that point, Brody thought, recalling how the cat had turned tail and skedaddled. As if she had never left, Brody saw her standing before him, her face turning from something unnatural to man back into the innocent, beautiful face of a gentle woman. Her chest heaved from the leftovers of fear, and her eyes were dark and haunted. Sorrow filled them, and her shoulders slumped forward slightly before she turned and disappeared into the darkness. Like a ghost, if he believed in such things his mind retorted, the image of her backside, with her long, black braid swinging behind her, faded away. Brody could still feel the lump in his throat, which he knew were jumbled words trying to make their way out at once. His mind had tried to force out at least a sound to stop her from running away. It also screamed at his feet to go after her. But his brain had not managed to make either happen. Instead, he had stood there like an addled-brain fool. Brody cursed himself because he knew finding her in the dark would be next to impossible. He'd managed to fail the woman a second time. Brody mentally kicked himself. Running an aggravated hand through his hair, Brody retrieved his hat, shirt, soap, and cloth, snatched up the now cold dinner, and slowly headed for camp. With every step he tried to convince himself he was merely bone tired and had imagined the event. The thought a woman was somewhere out there, injured on account of he hadn't used the good sense God gave him to do something about it before she disappeared, was too much to think about. So was the idea the woman had teeth long enough to rip the flesh from any beast's, or man's, hide. Not managing to succeed in convincing himself what happened tonight didn't actually happen at all, Brody walked toward the camp, following the sounds of a harmonica and a guitar. No matter how fast he walked, he couldn't escape the worry whispering in his mind: What about the blood? No matter what had, or hadn't, happened at the pond, she'd saved his life and he'd done nothing to help her in return. Reaching the chow wagon, Brody handed over his tin, ignoring Cookie when the man cocked an eyebrow at the amount of food remaining. Before the cook could voice a question or bark a wisecrack, Brody turned away and headed directly for his bedroll, which he sank upon with a huff of displeasure. A quick glance at Frank found the man whittling the end of a dry branch. His friend didn't speak as he focused on his work and each stroke of his knife. Brody felt the questions coming. He didn't have to wait long. "Something wrong?" Brody held silent, not knowing exactly what to say. What would Frank's reaction be to what happened tonight? Would his friend believe him? Hell, he couldn't believe it himself. Scrubbing his hands tiredly over his face, then leaning them over his knees, he turned to Frank, deciding to tell the man about the mysterious woman; everything except the fangs since he was still on the fence as to whether they'd been there or not. Laying out the story, Brody replaced the part of her fighting the cat with the act of her pushing him out of the cat's path, taking a hit in the arm in the process. At a loss, and having committed a fallacy twice now, he needed his friend's guidance badly. Brody noticed Frank didn't seem too riled at his story. Actually, he realized the man hadn't shown any emotion whatsoever. "What will you do?" Brody raised his brows. "Do? I have no idea what to do. She skedaddled, just like the last time. All I seem to do is spook her off one way or t'uther, and come sunup we clear out." Brody shook his head and sighed loudly. "I hope her cuts weren't deep. She could damn well bleed to death 'fore anyone finds her." As Frank bent his head and began stroking the blade of his knife over the wood in his hands once again, Brody groaned in frustration, his head and stomach in knots over what to do. "Maybe, if I rustle up a few men, we could scout the area with lanterns . . ." Frank shook his head. "No good." Brody reached his limit. "Damnation Frank! Don't give me 'nother damned riddle. I need some help here!" Frank only shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips as if amused by Brody's growing anger. The man lowered his hands and lifted his gaze to the sky. "When day comes, Trace will go with you." Seeing Frank wasn't going to say anything else, Brody stood and walked away from the fire, toward the end of camp. He had no idea what to do next, and it ate him alive.   Sleep hadn't come to Brody during the dark hours. Wound tighter than a rattler, he'd paced on and off most of the night, then lay down a moment, only to get up again and repeat the cycle. A few times he'd caught muttering among the men, calling for him to settle down, as his moving around had kept them awake as well. All except Frank. The man never moved an inch. He'd seemed to have slept like the dead, and Brody envied him. At the first hint of light Brody found Trace, Frank's son, and headed out to search for the woman, ignoring the gathering clouds and their warning of coming rain. He led the Indian to the pond and the spot where the woman had taken down the cat. Trace crouched and surveyed the ground, then glanced up at him. Brody caught the question and confusion in the Indian's eyes. No doubt the young man read the traces of the scuffle and far more of the tale than Brody had told the man's father. Brody took a step backward and heard a crunch. Lifting his boot he found a tin lying in the grass, sporting a large dent from his heel. Picking up the tin and holding it in his hands, a smile tugged at his lips; he knew how the plate had gotten there. She brought it with her. Suddenly, his stomach knotted again. The woman obviously found the food he'd left for her, and she'd most likely followed him for more, but this time not gotten so much as a crumb. Just like before, he'd scared her away. Brody grit his teeth and told himself to focus on finding her. Glancing around, he noticed blood spotting the ground in several places; the dawning light of day revealing the red dots on the blades of green grass should lead him in the direction she'd gone last night. And, with every step he took to follow them, he fervently hoped it would point to where she was right now. Walking through the tall grass as it swayed in the breeze, he found it began to grow difficult to follow the trail of blood. He motioned for Trace to search the ground in one direction as he headed in another. After walking several feet, Brody discovered trampled grass beneath small footprints. Following them down a steep hill, Brody wondered how an injured woman could have traveled this far, over rocky terrain in the dark, while bleeding. At the base of the hill the blood trail led him to a set of boulders resting against one another. The rocks left a gap in the middle -- one just big enough for a person to squeeze through. Brody pushed his hat further back on his forehead and placed his hands on his hips. He glanced at Trace who looked as astonished as he felt. "You reckon she's in here?" Brody asked Trace, who gave only a shrug in reply. Shoving his hat back in place, he bent to his knees and poked his head through the opening, praying a snake wasn't lying in wait on the other side. Brody discovered the boulders flanked the entrance to a small cave; barely a sliver of light breached the opening. Using his elbows to crawl in deeper, he noticed with every inch he moved, the inside grew darker. "Shit," he muttered to himself, wishing he had brought along a lantern. "You need firelight?" Brody heard Trace's voice through rock-muffled ears. "Yeah, you got any ideas?" he called back, knowing Trace had good ears and would hear him. After a few minutes of breathing dirt as he lay on his belly Brody felt Trace tap the heel of his boot. He scooted backwards until he was out of the cave. Trace handed him a long branch with a strip of the Indian's shirt wrapped several times around the end. Flames licked the cloth. Brody glanced over at Trace and noticed the man's shirt to be several inches shorter than it had been when they left camp. The Indian's bronzed skin shone between the now-uneven edge of his shirt and the top of his britches. Shaking his head at the wide grin on the brave's face, Brody crouched in front of the cave entrance once again. He sent the flaming stick in first so he could see and began to crawl into the mouth of the cave a second time. Once he made his way through the opening between the two boulders the cave widened and its ceiling grew taller. Brody found he was able to rise to his knees. Moving the roughly-made torch to spread its light he caught sight of a form at the rear of the cave. As he got closer, he discovered the woman. She lay partially on her side with her arm resting across her mid-section. The sleeve of her shirt was ripped and stained heavily with blood. Brody sucked in a breath. Her wounds had been worse than he'd thought, and he damned himself for not finding her sooner. Quickly, he set the torch where he was sure it would not go out, and went to her side. Her skin, alarmingly cool to the touch, was the first thing he noticed. Bending his head to her chest, he held his breath, straining to hear her heart beat. A faint sound reached his ears. The realization had his breath releasing in a woosh of air. Lightly, Brody tapped her face. "Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?" His inability to awaken her worried him even more, and his heart beat faster in his chest as his brain raced at the possibility of her dying. Taking her arm lightly in his hands, Brody pulled back the torn cloth to assess the wounds, but was totally surprised to find no deep slashes; instead he found cuts seemingly already in the healing stage -- the skin merely an angry red around the dried blood. Confusion set in at the amount of blood staining her shirt. It didn't match with what looked to be mere scratches on her flesh. Thunder rolled outside, telling him he needed to move quickly. After sliding one arm beneath her shoulders and the other under her legs, Brody walked on his knees to the small cave entrance. "Trace, I found 'er. Need your help to get 'er out of here." In the blink of an eye he saw Trace's long fingers, then arms, poke through the opening. Brody carefully laid the woman where Trace could reach her shoulders, and as the man pulled her out of the cave, Brody made sure the rest of her body didn't rake against the rocks. After clearing the mouth of the cave, Brody reached out and plucked the woman from Trace's arm. The wind picked up, and the once-thin line of clouds on the horizon were now a dark blanket cloaking the heavens. The smell of rain was in the air. Brody knew he had to get the woman to shelter as quickly as possible. With a nod to Trace, he turned and struggled up the steep, rocky hill, praying all the while he didn't lose his footing along the way and send the injured woman tumbling to the ground.   CHAPTER FIVE  Bri felt her body moving . . . and she was back on one of the stage coaches taking her father, brother, and her from one town to another during the night hours. In her mind, she was lying on the bench, her father's lap pillowing her head. A hard jolt awoke her with a start. Bri's eyes snapped open, and as her vision wavered she stared at the worn canvas above her, billowing in the wind. The heavy breathing of horses and the rattling of items bumping together all around where she lay echoed loudly in her ears. Her head pounded, and her thoughts were definitely foggy, but her body caused her the most concern; she felt weak. Stifling a groan, Bri pushed herself up on one elbow to get a better look around. Another hard bump caused her to knock her head against the side of the wagon and she let out a loud, "Ouch!" "Ma'am? Ya'll alright back 'cher?" A booming voice called out, and Bri jumped. She leaned forward slightly and looked to the front of the wagon to see a large, beefy man holding the reigns and urging the horses onward. He glanced over his shoulder and spoke again. "Ever'thing okay? You need me to stop a minit?" Bri opened her mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. She didn't know what to say, not having the slightest idea who this man was or where he was taking her. "Um, who are you, and where are we going?" The big man laughed. "Mr. Brody said you'ins were hurt and fer you to ride in the wagin'. Said he found you by our last camp. Got sum nasty cuts from a cat." Frowning, Bri rubbed her temples and attempted to clear her head. It only took a few moments for the previous night's fiasco to come screaming back, and her heart stopped. She had shown her true self and knew very well the man had seen it by how he had reacted. But, why take her along? Better yet, how did he find her? A thought entered her mind, followed by a surge of panic. She'd heard about carnivals and gypsies through her travels to different countries, and wondered if any roamed this area. If they did, she was most certainly in big a real tangle. No doubt those traveling circuses would be eager to get their hands on a person like her for one of their cages. Show the people your pretty fangs. A chill ran up her spine. Bri closed her eyes and focused on deep, calming breaths to make thinking possible. Bri fingered the blankets covering her. Although they were comfortable and warm, fear brought a bone deep chill. What had she gotten herself into now? Being stranded in this land, alone for the past two weeks, meant she was already in quite a dire situation. What did this new predicament hold? A gust of wind blew against the canvas covering the wagon, shifting a tear and uncovering a small hole. A ray of light peaked through the opening, the beam spreading from the roof to the floor mere inches from where she sat. Bri hastily yanked the covers over her legs to shelter them from the light. Her heart beat a mile a minute, afraid more daylight would find her. She was no longer in the safety of her dark cave, and she was more afraid now than the first day she had been left alone.  * * * *  Brody rode point, keeping a good pace at the front of the line and moving the cattle along steadily. His thoughts strayed too often to the woman he'd placed in the wagon, wondering how she faired. A few of the herd separated, almost cutting him off and Brody jerked himself from his wandering thoughts. Mentally cursing himself for losing focus, he ushered the strays into line, telling himself he had to stay on task before someone -- namely him -- got hurt, or the cattle managed to get out of hand. After riding all morning, Cookie's wagon, which left before the rest of them finished breaking camp in order to be set up and ready at the next planned stop, came into sight. Brody breathed a sigh of relief; time to stop for lunch and a short rest for both the cattle and the men. It would also give him the opportunity to check on the woman, a voice whispered in his head. The men on first watch circled the herd, steering them to the grassy plains to corral them. After the last of his men dismounted and prepared for lunch he eyed the wagon Lil' Dave commanded; the one with the woman inside. Unable to hold himself back, he made his way in that direction, hoping to find her in a better state. After placing her inside on a rough pallet of blankets, he'd pulled down the flaps of the tarp covering the wagon in an effort to keep the dirt and dust out, if that was even possible. Now, as he untied the laces, he wondered if it worked. "She's up," Lil' Dave said as he came around the side of the wagon. His rumbling voice nearly startled Body out of his boots, though he was relieved to hear the announcement. After the last of the ties were undone, Brody pulled back the flap and handed it off to Lil' Dave who secured it to the side. A flash of light shone inside and a burst of movement made him jump. The woman had gone from one side of the wagon to the other so fast he hadn't seen her move. Brody blinked a few times and frowned. "Ma'am? Ain't no call for being spooked. No one's gonna hurt you. You had a purdy bad clawin' from that cat." The woman slowly separated the torn threads of the shirt, inspecting her arm a moment before settling her spellbindingly blue eyes on him. The worry and apprehension, not to mention fear, in them bothered him. He didn't want her to be afraid, but had no idea how to get her to trust him. Twice they had crossed paths, and twice it ended badly. Before him sat a beautiful woman, and though she wore men's clothing, obviously not hers and nowhere near her size, he noticed an air about her which told him she was from a family beyond his place in society. The thought had Brody shifting his stance, suddenly ashamed of his bedraggled appearance. "How's yer arm? You hurtin' any?" When she shook her head, he felt relieved because the only thing he knew to give her for pain was the whiskey Cookie kept on the Chow Wagon. His father told him long ago not to take laudanum on the trail as it was nothing but bad news. The liquid concoction overtook a man's brain to the point where he'd practically drown himself in it without a care for the world. "You hungry?" He had no doubt she was, as he recalled the tin he'd found in the grass. He figured she'd followed him from their last camp for that very reason: food. Alone out here with nothing but dust and wild country, she probably didn't have anything in the way of skills to survive. Brody's stomach spasmed. If he hadn't found her . . . "Yes, please," a soft voice replied from the dim shadows of the far corner of the wagon. Brody held the sound in his mind, letting it roll through his thoughts as it soothed his tired soul. "I'll get you somethin'. Uh . . ." Brody began to scratch his head under his hat, not knowing quite how to say what he needed to ask. Anxiety had him shifting from one foot to another. "You need to . . .?" Without thought, he waved one hand in a you know gesture, unable to finish his question and praying she got the message, but she merely stared at him as though he spoke another language. Brody tried different words. "You need to be gettin' out of the wagon?" He hoped she would get out of the wagon and make up her own mind to water the prairie.  * * * *  Bri heard the man's question, but had no idea what he attempted to say. The redness of his face made it obviously plain his embarrassment kept him from coming right out with whatever it was. It suddenly dawned on her. Yes, she did need to take care of something, but there was no way she was getting out of the wagon, at least, not until sundown. "No, no thank you." She lied and clamped her knees together, praying she could make it several more hours. Maybe she should ask for a pail or something to put in the wagon with her? And that wouldn't be mortifying? Bri stared at the man's eyes. Though his face was dirty, his eyes shone a brilliant green. His gaze never wavered, but she saw within it no signs he believed her a monster; only kindness filled their depths. A sudden breeze sent strands of dark, wavy hair blowing about his face before they rested again on his shoulders. The man stepped forward slowly and tipped his hat. "My name is Brody, Brody McAllister." A moment of silence followed, and Bri realized it was her turn for introductions. Busily admiring the man's facial features, she had not been paying attention. The smile he attempted to hide made her blush, heating her cheeks. She hoped she sat too far back in the shadows for him to notice. Bri cleared her throat. "I am Bri, Briana Wallace." Seeing his nod of acknowledgement, she held herself still as he seemed poised for more questions. To her relief, he simply turned and walked toward the wagon where the men stood in line to receive food. Bri released a long breath. What story was she going tell when the questions did come? As Bri settled against the inside of the wagon and tried to make herself comfortable, about as comfortable as one could be with a bladder as swollen as a wagon wheel, a figure stepped from the side of the wagon and directly into her sight. Startled, she jumped, glad her legs were still clamped together before she no longer had to worry about holding in what desperately wanted out. Bri found herself face-to-face with a Native American. Her heart began to race like a dog on a fox hunt. The man's long, grey hair was tied at the nape of his neck. Strands blew about in the breeze. The unrelenting stare and impassive expression on his leathery face made her uneasy, and she wondered what he wanted. To break the ice, Bri scooted forward, about as much as she dared without encountering the daylight and smiled sweetly. "Hello. My name is Bri . . . Briana Wallace." The man didn't respond, only continued to stare as if gazing into her soul. Bri saw it in his eyes. He knew. She had read many books on the Native Americans in this country, and their many myths and beliefs, so his knowing really wasn't so much of a surprise. Just unwelcome. Panic rose in her chest, and she began wringing her hands. "I am not here to harm anyone. I've never harmed a soul in my life. I-I didn't ask to come here. Brody brought me. Please don't tell them . . . I will leave at dark." The man stayed as he was for another moment. Bri didn't know what else to do or say to convince him her words held the truth. Finally, he spoke. "No. You will stay." The man shifted his gaze to the ground. He bent, leaving Bri unable to see him over the rear of the wagon unless she stood; something she wasn't going to attempt in her condition as it would risk creating a waterfall. When he straightened, she saw a bucket. He held it up, leaned over the rear panel of the wagon, and placed it inside. Giving it a little push, he slid it further inside, closer to the shadows and within her reach. Bri couldn't believe it. It seemed as though the old man had read her mind. She gave him a small smile, her gratitude nothing short of heartfelt. Appearing to have accepted her silent thanks, he disappeared around the side of the wagon. Though no longer in sight, Bri still sensed his presence nearby. A rustle of fabric sounded moments before legs came into view. Bri watched the old man balance on the wagon's bench as he draped a tarp over the canvas. The material covered the small holes, leaving her in the cool of complete darkness. Bri could have cried at that moment. Although the man obviously knew what she was, he was helping her. The idea Brody may know as well settled like lead in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want him to know. In his eyes she wanted to be normal. Plus, she had no idea what his thoughts were on the existence of her race. Tales her father had told her and Trevor as children crept into her mind. She recalled how the stories had caused her to fear for her safety among humans. That fear threatened to return now, even though she wasn't sure people in this country knew of her kind. When she and Trevor grew older, and her brother began to show an insatiable taste for human blood, her father started moving them about from country to country. It had been during their travel that she'd first heard the humans talk -- and their anger and fear -- after one of her brother's kills had been discovered. Bri held a trembling hand to her throat as her mind raced. If these men held their own beliefs and discovered her true nature, they'd surely act upon those beliefs. Fear led to action, and action would most certainly entail ending her life. The wagon shook as the old Native American jumped to the ground. The movement jostled her, causing her heart to land in her throat. Bri glanced at the front of the wagon to see it once again vacant. Listening intently, she heard the man walk away from the wagon. She listened further to make sure no one else hovered nearby before taking quick action to relieve herself, sighing as she did so. She felt much lighter, not to mention more comfortable, than she had moments ago. Booted steps approached, the ones she had come to know as Brody's, and Bri hurried to rearrange her trousers and shirt before he reached the wagon. She settled just in time. Brody's scent filled her nostrils, before the aroma of the food on the tin he carried. It amazed her that even through her desperate hunger, his was the first scent to catch her attention. "Brung you some eats." His magnificent body stood in front of the wagon, obviously waiting for her to move closer so he could hand her the tin. Daylight still shone into the rear of the wagon, not giving her the option of getting closer; she couldn't leave the confines of the corner and its darkness. Bri was in a state. Her mind raced for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why she didn't move. A memory surfaced in her mind of her father explaining his family suffered from a malady where their skin reacted badly to the sun. "I'm sorry. I cannot allow daylight to touch my skin. I burn easily. A family curse, I'm afraid." Please, please let him believe me. Brody smiled, and her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to touch his smiling face, caress his strong jawline and feel the stubble beneath her fingertips. "Oh, that's alright, ma'am. I'll just be settin' it in the wagon here." When he stepped up on the back wheel and leaned over the side of the wagon, Bri thought he intended to join her. She didn't know whether to panic or jump for joy. But he didn't. He simply placed the tin on the floor of the wagon where she could reach it without exposing herself to the sunlight. Once he'd obviously determined the tin to be within her reach, he hopped down. Bri felt her sudden joy go with him. As Bri lifted the tin, then settled once again in the darkness, she watched Brody take several steps away, and her heart sank. He was leaving; she wanted him to stay. He lifted his head and seemed to be checking the position of the sun, then glanced at the wagon. After doing this several times, he approached once again. Bri tried to keep the pleased smile trying to spread across her face at bay as she mentally scolded herself for behaving like a foolish chit. "The sun's position will stay to the sides of the wagon. With the tarp, you should be alright."  * * * *  After ensuring Bri could reach the tin, Brody hopped down from the wagon. Bri had said her skin could not withstand the daylight. Checking the position of the wagon against the sun's place in the sky, he was convinced the sides of the wagon would receive most of the sun's rays, leaving the front and rear less exposed. As he turned to leave, he noticed dark fabric now covered the wagon; the notion someone had taken care of the little lady by adding an extra tarp made him smile, but it quickly faded at the thought following on the its heels. One of his men may have taken a fancy to her. Not that he could blame them. Hell, he'd done just that, hadn't he? Still, the fact they'd been on the trail for weeks, with a ways yet to go before reaching Fort Worth and any chance of seeing a lady worried him. Though he trusted his men, at least most of them, he knew a body could only be pushed so far. Hearing a soft voice, Brody returned to his earlier spot in front of the wagon's rear panel. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Did you say something?" The woman smiled sweetly, leaving him breathless. Her face was that of an angel; eyes like deep blue pools and a porcelain face framed by black, silky hair. He blinked when he noticed her mouth moving. "I said, thank you for the food and for taking care of me. And, please call me Bri. Ma'am sounds like you are talking to my mother." The sudden change in her expression, the furrowed brows and cloudiness of her eyes, after she spoke of her mother made Brody wonder about her family, but he didn't have time to chew the fat. If he wanted grub, he needed to grab it now or he'd have to wait until later, much later. He tipped his hat, excused himself, and headed to the chow wagon hoping his men hadn't wiped the pots clean.   CHAPTER SIX  The wagon bumped and rocked along the trail. Bri listened to the baying of the cattle and the clang of items knocking together in the wagon through ears slowly losing focus on sound. She was drifting off once again into the day sleep. Her body still felt weak, the loss of blood from the evening before not yet being replenished. With her kind, once blood was gone from the body, it was gone. Regeneration could only be acquired by feeding. After telling herself she'd take the opportunity during the dark of night to sneak away from camp to take from one of the longhorns, she allowed the thought to fade before she let herself go.  "Father, why are we leaving yet again? Are we not safe here in New York?" Bri watched anxiously as her father hurried about his office, gathering papers and stuffing them into his bag. "Father?" Roland Wallace, Bri's father and sire, stopped what he was doing and let out a long breath. He ran a hand through his hair, which she noticed had begun to grey on the sides. "Bri, I want you to go to your room and pack your things. We are leaving New York at dark." Fear jumped a notch. "What? Why?" Realization set in at the only reason they would leave in the dead of night -- her brother, Trevor. Clasping together her trembling hands, she took a step in retreat. "Oh, Father. What has he done this time? He promised!" Eyes filling with tears she could no longer hold at bay, Bri found herself engulfed in her father's strong arms. He held her close within the security of his embrace. "It's nothing for you to worry about. Just do as I ask." Bri felt his lips press the top of her head before he pulled back at looked at her face. He raised his hands and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. Her father's gaze met hers. Bri knew he waited for her to acquiesce. Hurrying to her room, she began packing her dresses as neatly as possible while in a rush. Soft laughter made her whirl around. The sight of Trevor in the doorway to her room, his arms crossed over his chest and a glint of menace in his eyes, made her blood run cold. "Going somewhere, Sis?" She knew that tone -- one she heard many times when her brother was displeased at their father's decisions. She watched as he changed his stance to casually lean against the door. Dark hair framed his face and fell onto his shoulders. His eyes, black and dangerous, narrowed, watching her every move. A slight smile, almost a snarl, tipped his lips. "Didn't father tell you? We're leaving . . . but then again, you probably already know the why of it, don't you?" Long ago Bri noticed the playful boy who had taken care of her and laughed with her no longer existed. That person had been replaced by something or someone cold and dark. Though she had grown to fear her brother over the past few years, she returned the narrow-eyed stare. When Trevor straightened, his arms fell from his chest. "Yes, he told me. So be it. I'm tired of this city anyway. There's bigger and better cities out there you know, and I can't wait to see them." With that, he turned and walked away. A cold shiver ran through Bri as her mind began to imagine what insane notions played in her brother's mind. He would never stop, she thought grimly. Once again, tears fell from her lashes. Though some were for her brother and the boy he'd once been, most were for her father. He'd tried so very hard to get Trevor on the right path and change his ways. Bri brushed her tears away. Her heart felt as though it were breaking for the both of them, and she felt powerless to do anything about it.  Bri rolled onto her side, still in her dreams. The scene faded away, leaving blackness to surround her.  Bri. Sister mine. I see you are alive and well in this God forsaken country. I never doubted it. Your persistent nature has shown once again. Come to me, sister, or I will find you.  Bri jumped, grabbing the blanket and bringing it to her neck as her heart hammered in her chest. "Just a dream. It was just a dream," she muttered. Though she tried to reassure herself, Bri couldn't push aside how loud and clear Trevor's voice had sounded in her ears. Worse yet was the fact his words were not at all a part of what she remembered of the night in their hotel room in New York -- the night they'd had to flee. Was he out there somewhere? Following her? But, why? Her mind raced. She had no idea what Trevor wanted with her. He'd left her with nothing but the dress she had worn that night. Possessing no money or anything of value, the only possible explanation she could come up with was that he had decided to kill her as he'd done their father. Bri's head began to ache at the chaos spinning through her mind. That and the need for blood. She prayed evening was close, as it meant stopping soon. Even more so, she prayed for the chance to sneak away.  * * * *  Taking in a deep breath, Trevor held it and listened to the sounds of the town -- the place he'd found after following cattle drivers herding filthy animals along a well worn trail. He had been told the next stagecoach wasn't due to arrive for at least another week, and the trip out of town had already been spoken for. Although he had no doubt he could persuade whoever had done the procuring to hand over their paid means of travel to him, he did not want to wait. He'd been in this hell-hole long enough. As a man's lifeless body slumped to the ground, Trevor sighed heavily, releasing the breath he held. He removed a handkerchief from his jacket and wiped the blood from his mouth. With a feeling of disgust, he glanced down at the man. "Worthless, weak humans, not willing to ride at night." Snarling, he used his boot to roughly shove the body behind a stack of wood and out of sight. His latest attempt to acquire a guide to take him to the railroad, so he'd be able to return to New York, had once again fallen apart when he'd mentioned traveling during the night. Unfortunately, Trevor's skill at the art of compulsion had not yet come to full power and only worked periodically. Once he had come upon a man with a wagon pulled by a single, tired-looking horse. Trevor had convinced the man to do the deed, but hadn't gotten far before they had run into trouble. Wild creatures hiding within the shadows had spooked the horse, just as they had done when he'd taken his father's wagon. The driver had lacked the ability to control the beast, which resulted in the wagon nearly overturning several times. The last instance had thrown the human from the bench. Trevor had leapt from the seat in order to prevent injury to himself, and after he'd discovered the human suffered a mortal head wound, followed the horse quite a distance to where it finally settled. The fiasco had demolished the canvas covering the wagon, leaving no protection for him against the sunlight. The sun had peeked above the horizon and he'd had to seek shelter at an abandoned, run-down shack. Trevor returned to the town the next day to begin his search anew. He'd vowed to find a man who not only knew the way to the railroad and had the means to keep him secure from the daylight, but who also possessed the skill to handle any situation which may arise. He planned to take several horses along this time in case one became hobbled during the journey. Trevor's frustration over his lack of success had reached its limit. Damn you father for bringing us here! Baring his fangs, he clenched his fists at his sides. Trevor rode the wave of anger at his father, but reminded himself of the need to remain focused. Returning to New York was his number one priority right now. Everything he wanted had been at his fingertips while in the big city: money, power, sex and blood. With only a raggedy, uncovered wagon, a single horse that had seen better days, and no provisions, not to mention knowing nothing about this land, he needed a human's help. The reality of his situation galled him. Trevor thought about the wagon his family had used for travel and how, as he'd urged the horses on in the dark, it also crashed. The image of the beasts bolting once they'd broken free from their harness burned in his mind. They'd left him stranded. Just as he'd left Bri. Trevor couldn't help but chuckle softly at the irony. Moving to leave the alley, a familiar sensation brushed over him and he stilled. Bri. His sister was alive and not far away. The realization brought a smile to his face. Plans began to buzz in his mind. She was the solution to his dilemma. Bri. His beautiful sister. Sister. The thought amused him. He knew Bri wasn't really his sister. The only blood they shared was what Roland, their father, put in their veins. Trevor shook his head. He refused to think of Roland as his father or even his sire for that matter. The man had taken them from an orphanage and made them his children, turning them into that which he was now: vampire. Perhaps he should be thankful, Trevor thought as he glanced over his shoulder at the pile of wood behind which he'd shoved the body of his latest victim. Anything he wanted was at his fingertips now that Roland could no longer hound him for his actions. He'd taken care of the problem, as well as the old man's favorite, Bri; or so he had thought. "Good ol' Bri," Trevor muttered. He had plans for her indeed, he mused. Having Bri present herself in distress and needing to travel with an escort was the perfect plan. A human male would leap to her rescue in the single beat of a heart. Speaking of the beating of hearts . Distant voices of a man and a woman had him smiling in the darkness of the alley. The woman would be just what he needed tonight, and the man, he thought in amusement, would serve to wet his whistle. With long, purposeful strides, he walked out of the alley and approached the couple with ease.  * * * *  The sounds of nature began to shift as the sun slid toward the western sky. Grasshoppers and birds quieted, while crickets settled in to take their place. Brody ushered a line of cattle to the area the beasts would rest for the night. He urged them in further, closer to one another to ensure they were easier to manage in the dark. Brody felt more tired than normal, and knew the cause: endless thoughts of the woman he rescued. Bri had told him she had an illness which caused her skin to react badly to sunlight. What in tarnation was that about? He'd never heard of such an illness. Then again, he'd been able to tell from her accent she was not from this country. A part of him wondered if she made up the excuse because she hadn't wanted to leave the wagon out of fear; fear of the men, fear of him, or both. Dismounting his horse and grabbing the reins, Brody wiped his brow with his arm, pushing his hat back slightly as he did so. Her situation had him vexed. Why was a young daisy of a woman alone in this dangerous land, and dressed in men's clothing to boot? Was she on the lam? If she was, he was going to be between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't put it to rights in his head she would do something to be hiding from the law, and turning her in to the Rangers was not something he felt he could do. Tonight he'd talk to her and get some answers, he told herself. Even if I have to drag them out of her. A bad feeling lay low in his gut, telling him he wasn't going to like what she had to say. Letting fly a whistle, he got the attention of one of his hands. After motioning for the man, he waited for him to reach speaking distance. "Paco, who's taking first watch?" "Me, Senor Brody," Paco answered, pointing to his chest. The man's English held a strong Spanish accent, but Brody had no trouble understanding him. "Okay, grab your grub first." When Paco nodded enthusiastically, Brody slapped a hand on the man's shoulder before turning to lead his horse to where the mounts would be tethered for the night. Looking over his shoulder, he caught sight of the wagon in which Bri had ridden, and he wondered how she'd fared during the long journey. It suddenly occurred to him she most likely had not left the wagon the entire day, if the story about her reaction to sunlight was indeed true. Brody muttered a curse. He should have thought to bring her something to keep in the wagon for necessity, but he had been wrapped up in wondering what she was doing out here, as well as taking care of matters along the trail. Damn! He felt like a clod. How many times had he messed up? If he had to take care of a bride, he would probably put her in her grave before their first anniversary, he thought grimly. He had better stick to trail driving and ranching, they seemed to be the only things he was good for. As if reading his troubled thoughts, Frank appeared at his side. "Gave woman pot. Covered wagon. She is safe." Stopping in his tracks, he eyed Frank curiously, but Frank ignored him and continued on his way to retrieve his saddle. Brody couldn't help but wonder what possessed the man to take up her care. He thought it odd because Frank wasn't one to see to the needs of anyone, except him, and only when necessary. With a mental shrug, Brody set off for Lil' Dave's wagon, and Bri.   CHAPTER SEVEN  The wagon made a turn and slowed. When Lil' Dave called for the horses to halt, Bri silently prayed the time had come to stop for the evening. An hour ago she had gotten her hopes up, only to be disappointed to find they'd pulled off to the side to wait while a few ranch hands riding flank rounded up strays. The ride along the trail thus far had been long, and when not sleeping off the lethargy of the daytime hours, her mind had filled with thoughts of Brody; the way he walked, talked, smelled . . . The wagon pulled to a stopped and rocked slightly. Bri scooted to the end of the bed, then slowly peeled aside a section of tarp. Finding evening on its way, relief washed over her. Her body needed blood as it struggled to recuperate after last night's tussle with the wildcat. A sense of panic struck her. Now that they had stopped for the night, she would be expected to leave the seclusion of the wagon and no doubt have to answer a lot of questions. Bri didn't blame Brody. If she found a woman alone in this empty land, she would have questions, too. Doing a quick fix of her hair, as best she could without a brush, comb, or mirror, Bri rose on her knees and made sure her shirt was tucked in and presentable. She wished she had a mirror, horrified at the thought of possibly having dirt and dust on her face. She didn't want to meet any of the men, especially Brody, looking like a street urchin or homeless beggar. A part of her longed for her beautiful dresses, if only to make herself fanciful to please him, entice him, to . . . Whoa, Bri. Stop it. He's a cowboy, not a man who would be interested in a woman dressed in fancy attire. Bri sighed. Her mind was right. He wouldn't care for a woman like her. She hadn't been able to take care of herself. How could she possibly see to the needs of a man, help with ranch chores, take care of children or run a house? An ache settled in her chest. She had no knowledge of any of those things. Her father had always seen to it his children's needs had been met by hiring staff to do so. She had to admit to herself she was a spoiled rich girl. Through the cloud of dust from the horses riding through, Bri could see a lone figure. A tall, lean, muscular body walked in her direction. Immediately, she recognized him, which didn't surprise her much. Her thoughts seemed to be stuck on him so deeply she could sense his presence at any given time. Tingles ran over her body like butterflies brushing against her skin whenever he was near. Bri covered her face and groaned quietly. What was she going to do when they had to part ways? Brody said he would take her to the next town, but that meant she would be stranded there among people, which was impossible. No way could she stay there. Where would she be safe during the daylight? The tingles along her skin ramped a notch. She raised her head to find Brody within feet of the wagon. Bri plastered on a bright smile in greeting. "Are we stopping for the night?" Brody dusted off his hat, slapping it against his leg as he nodded. "Yes, ma'am . . . Bri. We've put to settin' up camp. Cookie'll get viddles on right shortly." Bri watched him fidget as if unsure of himself around her. The notion made her smile widen. She had never had a man act in such a way in her presence. "Is the sun far 'nough in the horizon? I mean, can you leave the wagon?" he asked. Bri found it her turn to nod. She was all too eager to leave the wagon. When Brody's hand came out to take hers to help her down from the bed of the wagon, Bri's heart jumped. She was actually going to touch him. Oh cut it out you silly twit! Giving herself a mental kick, she realized he waited with his arm outstretched. A flush of embarrassment crept into her cheeks as she placed her hand in his, feeling the calluses of a man who worked hard every day, and allowed him to guide her out of the wagon. Without warning, his hand left hers. Both his hands grabbed around her waist. Bri sucked in a breath. His grasp was strong, but gentle, as he lifted her from the wagon and set her on her feet. Bri lowered her gaze and took in the sight of his hands on her waist: long fingers attached to dark, tanned hands. Her gaze slid up his arms -- muscular with blue-tinted veins close to the surface. His shoulders were broad, and Bri found she needed to tilt back her head to take them in. She also noted he stood at least a foot taller than she did. Strands of hair fell across his collarbone, partly hiding a thick neck that called to her. Unable to stop herself, she raised her eyes to meet his. He stood unbearably close with his hands still on her waist and head bent to stare down at her face. The look in his eyes surprised, but also frightened, her a little. As his intense gaze fixated on her, she heard his heart beat a fast, steady rhythm. The sound thundered in her ears. For several moments, neither moved. Finally, Brody's grip on her waist loosened. His arms fell to his sides, and he cleared his throat. "How's the ride?" Bri unconsciously continued her stare. She barely noticed Brody shift his stance and speak again. "Bri? Everythin' alright in the wagon? It gets purdy bumpy in there." Bri blinked once, twice, then realized he'd asked her a question. "Oh, no. I'm fine, thank you." She waved off his concern, not wanting to let him know she did feel a little bruised and battered from knocking around in the wagon. The last thing she wanted was for him to think her a weak female. But why she felt so inclined to do so, she had no idea.  * * * *  The minute Brody held Bri's hand in his as he helped her from the wagon he wanted to pull her close and kiss her senseless. Beautiful, with a small face and petite body, her long, black hair was once again in a single braid. He wanted to unbraid it and let it cascade down her back. He itched to feel its silkiness on his fingers. Her blue eyes were stunning, and the darkness of her hair combined with the paleness of her skin made them shine like a clear day in spring. But several times he'd noticed them dim, and the cause had been plain to see -- wariness, as well as sadness. As soon as he placed his hands on her waist he knew it had been a mistake. But, he immediately reminded himself, it was the proper thing to do. No man worth his breath would stand back and not assist a lady, leaving her to fall or injure herself. When his hands encompassed her small frame, heat soared through him and spread like wildfire. The sensation so powerful, he grit his teeth not to growl and toss her back into the wagon with him on her heels. The thought amused him; as if he had a chance with someone like her. Though her men's clothing might say otherwise at the moment, she was definitely a woman of worth. A woman learned in the ways of society and most likely highly educated. He couldn't say the same for himself. Though he could read, was mannerable, and could farm, build, and hunt, he didn't have the gift of gab or the ability to spout soft soap to a woman as those men back East did. He just wasn't cut from the same cloth. Dropping his hands, Brody immediately felt the loss. Her warmth was gone. He knew he had to step away. Clearing his throat, he tried to think of something to say to push aside his thoughts. The first thing that came to mind was the long ride this afternoon, so he asked how she had faired. Bouncing around in the bed of a wagon for hours and hours had no doubt been uncomfortable, not to mention far from entertaining. He figured Bri was probably used to padded seats of coaches taking her to dine at hoity-toity restaurants and the like. Brody closed his eyes a moment. He didn't have time to think about such things, especially when they weren't making him feel fine and dandy about himself. He had many a thing to offer a woman: respect, a home, greenbacks for essentials, and two strong arms to handle whatever needed doing. But what about love? Funny, he thought, he couldn't seem to answer that question at the moment. His entire life had been spent learning the ropes of running a ranch and cattle driving. Settling down seemed to be one of those things he hadn't taken time to think about. It hadn't seemed all that important. So, why was he thinking about it now? Knowing he was slipping into a hole his mind was busy digging with these thoughts, he spoke quickly, "I'm sure you'd be a wantin' to wash up 'fore dinner. The pond's not clean. The longhorns already laid claim to it. I can spare a bucket of water since we're not far from Fort Worth." "That would be wonderful," she said with a smile. The twinkle his suggestion brought to her eyes lifted his sagging heart. He was finally doing something right.  * * * *  Tarps for curtains had been connected to the side of the wagon for her privacy, and not only had Brody brought a bucket of water, which arrived warm from the fire, he provided a wash rag and soap too. Bri felt utterly relieved at the thought of being clean. Brody's thoughtfulness warmed her to her toes. With approximately three feet in which to undress and give herself a sponge bath, she relished it like a treasured gift. It occurred to her how something taken for granted in her former life was now a luxury. Finished with her bathing, she redressed in her borrowed men's clothing, rinsed out the wash cloth, and emptied the bucket onto the ground outside her makeshift tent. Shoving aside one of the tarps, she stopped abruptly, shocked to find Brody leaning against the side of the wagon. Her cheeks heated at the thought of him standing outside the tarps while she'd washed -- totally naked -- although he could not see through the curtain, or at least she hoped he hadn't been able to. "Thought I'd remain near 'bouts in case you be needin' anything. Not all the men know'd you were inside. I didn't want anybody interruptin' your privacy." Bri nodded her understanding, holding down the urge to giggle like a school girl receiving a boy's attention for the first time. To stop herself, she handed him the cloth and soap. "Thank you for letting me use these . . . and for standing guard." Brody tipped his hat. Bri glanced at his hands, noticing he had also taken the opportunity to wash. "Grubs awaitin'," he said while pointing to the chuck wagon. Bri allowed him to take her arm, pleased at his manners. "Come get yer' grub!" Cookie shouted as he ladled stew onto the tins held by the men standing in line. As Bri took her own place in line, Brody stood behind her. He bent to her ear and whispered, his soft voice sending a wave of chills down her spine. "A body better be knowin' how to be acting at the chow wagon: wait your turn, don't stir up dust, and never, ever, touch Cookie's stuff. That would sure 'nough cause a ruckus, not to mention gettin' somethin' in your food not fit to feed a dog." Bri put her hand to her mouth to hide her chuckle. Taking another step as the line move forward, she finally stood in front of the cook. "This here son-of-a-gun stew's my specialty," Cookie told her with a toothy grin. "I'll get that for you." Brody stepped in front of her and held out a tin for Cookie to fill before she could move. She caught the amused expression on the cook's face as he spooned on stew, plopped a sourdough biscuit on top of the steamy mass, then heaped on a serving of peach pie. When Brody turned away, she almost laughed when the cook gave her a wink. Brody took her arm and led her to a place to sit; a patch of soft grass rather than the hard dirt. She felt the warmth of his arm around hers and savored every minute of it, knowing his touch would not come very often as a cattle driving was hard work, not to mention the fact he would soon be leaving her at Fort Worth. "Is this okay?" he asked, stepping over to the patch of grass. "Yes. Perfect." Bri would sit on a pile of cow dung if it meant he would sit beside her. She blinked at the thought, covering her sudden chuckle with a fake cough. "Are you alright?" Bri nodded and cleared her throat, pretending she had dislodged whatever had caught there. Cutting off his attention to her fake malady, she quickly settled on the grass Indian style, something she would never have managed in a dress and corset. Brody handed her the tin. Bri couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the peach pie. Bringing the tin up to her nose, she inhaled the aroma and sighed, then glanced around, hoping no one noticed her unladylike behavior. After picking up her fork and dipping it in the stew, she stopped. Where were her manners? She waited patiently until Brody settled beside her and dipped a piece of biscuit into his stew. At that moment, Bri brought her fork to her mouth and tasted. Her stomach growled the moment her taste buds got a hold of the food, and she quickly swallowed, utterly aghast at the noise. Under her lashes, Bri watched Brody as he ate. Strong jaws flexed as he chewed. Each time he brought his fork to his mouth, she couldn't help but stare at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them. The thought made her breath catch, which she played off with another small cough. Stop it, Bri, before he believes you are ill. When Brody glanced her way, she quickly lowered her eyes to her plate and moved the stew around to fork up another bite. She felt his eyes on her several times. It made her nervous to eat while being watched, but then again, knowing he seemed to find her interesting made her feel good.  * * * *  Firelight played across Bri's smooth porcelain skin. She had rebraided her hair after bathing. How he longed to see it hanging loose, cascading around her shoulders. The woman was amazing, Brody thought as he ate his dinner. Most women would be skittish in the dark, jumping at every sound and eyes darting everywhere at once. Not Bri. She seemed at peace as if she enjoyed the night. Her demeanor was quiet, but at ease. Coyotes yipped in the darkness. They, along with the other night sounds, didn't seem to bother her in the least. Instead, he saw a smile on her face as if she enjoyed the outdoors, at least during the night. But, that didn't correlate with other impressions he had of her. How could a woman with her upbringing not be afraid, especially in this place? As he studied her, Brody caught her peeking at him from under thick, dark eyelashes, and he wondered what she thought of him. Did she think him a rough-neck cattle driver? Someone whose only skills were ranching and driving longhorns? A man with no book learning or proper upbringing? Brody did a mental headshake. She probably thought all of those things, and by the way he looked right now -- dirty and dusty from weeks on the trail -- he couldn't blame her. Although he cleaned up the best he could each night, he was certain he still looked as though he'd been run through by a stampede of longhorns, and his clothes probably smelled like it as well. The men sitting around the campfire chatted and laughed, and every now and again he saw Bri laugh softly at their tall tales. She seemed to listen to everything, watchful of the men's carryings-on. Brody wandered what it would be like to see Bri join in the hilarity. He wanted to hear her laugh aloud and see a bright smile upon her face, easing the guarded look he noticed she wore when he was near. He discovered he wanted to see the real Bri, the person she'd been before she wound up out here alone. Before they reached Fort Worth he hoped to find out more about her, catch a little of that side, and more importantly learn how she had gotten herself alone in this place. Most of the men finished their meals and returned their tins to Cookie, then settled back in their places on the hard ground. One picked up a guitar resting beside his saddle and began to stroke the strings. A moment later, another man pulled a harmonica out of his pocket and played along. An upbeat melody had the men tapping their feet or slapping their hands on their thighs to the rhythm. Brody was surprised to see Bri join in, tapping her hands on her pant legs and nodding her head to the beat. The music swelled as the men grew louder with their night time serenade, but stayed below a level that could spook the cattle. Brody glanced at Bri. For a while she seemed to be caught up in the fun, but then her facial expression changed and her eyes held a far-away look. His curiosity whispered to him to offer a penny for her thoughts and hear the secrets she held inside. One upbeat song faded into a low, slow one. Brody took the change in pace to ease Bri away from the group so they could talk. He stood and stretched. "Bri, would you like to stretch a bit 'fore turnin' in for the night?" A wary look crossed her face, one Brody didn't miss. She obviously knew he was going to ask questions, and by the slight tremble of her hands when she fidgeted with her cup, she seemed spooked to give answers. He only hoped she would be truthful and not give him a load of bull. Holding out his hand, he assisted her to stand, then grabbed her tin and cup. Side-by-side they headed to the chow wagon where Cookie took the items and began cleaning them in a bucket of soapy water. "We'll just walk over yonder," he told her as he pointed to the trees behind one of the wagons. She nodded and walked by his side in silence. Brody sensed waves of anticipation coming off her. He noticed she walked stiffly, seeming gathering her thoughts with each step. Her face tense, her mouth stretched in a tight line. Brody cleared his throat. "I reckon you know what I'm about." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod once. "I ain't gonna beat the devil around the stump. What in the blazes has you in the prairie by your lonesome?" For several moments Bri remained silent. Brody gathered she wasn't going to answer, until she finally spoke. "My brother left me here." The words bounced around Brody's ears like a bullet in a cave. He stopped and grabbed Bri's arm to halt her steps. "You sayin' your brother skedaddled, leaving you high and dry?" Brody's blood was already boiling before he heard her answer. With a heavy, sorrow-filled sigh that blew through him like a winter breeze, he watched her look away before speaking. "Can we sit over there and talk? I'd rather not try to do this and walk at the same time." Brody eased his grip but continued to hold Bri's arm as he escorted her to a group of rocks and waited for her to settle before finding his own spot to sit.   CHAPTER EIGHT  Bri knew this moment would come, and had been dreading it from the time she awoke in the wagon and discovered he had been the one to find her and place her there. She didn't want to air her family's fallacies, nor did she want anyone's pity. At this point, she didn't really know what she wanted, besides having her happy life back. But that was not going to happen. Right now she had no home, no possessions, and no family except her murderous brother. She didn't even have proper clothes to wear. Gazing off into the night, she gathered her words and her courage to tell her tale. "My father, brother, and I left New York a few months ago. We began traveling west, then south." Bri smiled as the picture of her father revealed itself in her mind. Still gazing into the darkness, she continued with the story. "My father wanted a new start for us. We traveled to many countries before coming to this one, and after two years in New York, he believed it time to move on once more." Brody remained silent. Bri was grateful he listened instead of interrupting. "The trip was difficult." Bri lowered her head and began fidgeting with the rope she used as a make-shift belt, needing to do something with her hands. "My father and brother had many disagreements. To be honest, my brother never agreed with any of my father's wishes." Bri sighed and shook her head. "What happened?" She turned her face to meet Brody's eyes. "He killed my father, took the wagon, and left me here to die."  * * * *  Brody's heart stopped as he heard what Bri said. It took one hard case to kill his own pa and leave his sis to die. Just hard-down meanness, he thought to himself while gritting his teeth. "You three rode alone?" Surely, he thought to himself, her pa had had the common sense to hire a guide and men armed to the teeth. Especially riding through Indian Territory. Brody held his tongue, not wanting to bad-mouth her kinfolk to her face. "A guide took us to Chicago, but we had to procure another to take us south," she replied. Okay . Brody was now wondering what had happened to the guide. If she told him the guide had pulled up stakes, leaving the two feuding males and a lone female to find their own way, he was going to utter curses bad enough to make Cookie cover his ears. "Bri, what came about the guide?" For several moments, Bri didn't answer. He watched as she sat straight as a rail. She had turned her face away once more to gaze out into the darkness. Finally, she spoke, her voice sounding small to his ears. "My brother killed him as well." Her answer was far worse than Brody could have imagined, and something he couldn't let fly. Her brother was a mighty bad egg, and was sure as buzzard food if he ever set eyes on him. "How long you be in these parts alone?" Brody waited while she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them to regard him once more. "About fifteen days." Riled up, Brody's head was a heap of emotions: anger at her brother, confusion as to why her pa had brought his family to Texas in the first place, and sorrow for what Bri had to abide. "How didja survive?" An uneasy expression flashed across her face. The very same one he'd seen when he asked her if she wanted to stretch her legs a bit. "I ate raw fish, if I could catch them." She shrugged slightly. "But, mostly I had nothing." The memory of what he had thought to be a young man sneaking around the camp that first night came to mind. It had been Bri attempting to steal food. Brody bit back a curse, realizing how hungry she must have been. Red-eyed and clenching his fists at his sides, Brody found himself wanting to know who this lower than dirt brother of hers was so he could kill him with his bare hands. "Bri, what's yer brother's name?" When Bri started fidgeting again, Brody slid off the rock and used a finger to lift her chin so their eyes met. "Bri, what's yer brother's name?" He tried to keep the anger he felt out of his voice, afraid she would not answer if she knew what went through his head. "Trevor." The word was spoken on a whisper, as if she was afraid to utter it, and that didn't sit well with him. "He ever hurt you, I mean, 'sides leavin' you here?" Bri shook her head. "No." "But he's got ya spooked?" This time she nodded. The man was a goner, he silently vowed. What her brother had done was plum cultis and downright snaky. He had no doubt Trevor had meant for her to die. "What came 'bouts the fuss 'tween your pa and Trevor?" Tears filled Bri's eyes as she answered. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but held still, afraid he wouldn't get an answer if she broke down completely. "My brother complained the entire journey about leaving New York. He wanted to return to the city and threatened to do so by taking our guide, Carlos. When Carlos refused, Trevor killed him." Brody leaned in and wiped away a tear sliding down her cheek as she sucked in a breath to continue. "My father thought Carlos had traveled a ways ahead to scout out the trail, but when he found Carlos' horse, he knew what happened." Bri sniffled, the most delicate sniffle Brody had ever heard. Just looking at her, even in tears she was right fetchy, he thought, then mentally kicked himself for being such a cod. He shifted his body to regain his focus on her story. It was a mighty tear squeezer, but he didn't doubt its truth. "When father approached Trevor, Trevor admitted to killing Carlos and said we would not be able to go further without the guide. Trevor believed killing Carlos would make my father take us back to New York." Bri shook her head slowly and dragged in a ragged breath. The sound shook him to the core. Her sorrow seeped into him as if it was his own. "My father no longer had any patience for Trevor. Harsh words were said between them. My brother struck my father. He had my father on the ground and . . .and . . ."  * * * *  Unable to hold back tears any longer, Bri broke down and sobbed heavily. Everything she'd held inside for the past two weeks came pouring out of her like rapids over a fall. As Brody embraced her with his strong arms, Bri felt herself being cradled against his chest. His scent she found intoxicating. Her emotions wavered between sorrow at the memory of her father, fear and anger at her brother, and desire to get closer to this man who held her. She wanted to drown her woes in his body. She wanted to unbutton his shirt and press her mouth to his flesh, exactly where her head was right now. His hand was gentle as it cradled her head. She couldn't stop the hiccups as her tears subsided. Realizing she had soaked his shirt and embarrassed at her breakdown in front of him, she backed out of his embrace. "I'm sorry." Brody shook his head. "Nuttin' to be sorry for. You been through a mighty hard spell. One no woman should have to abide." When he leaned back to look at her face, Bri laid a hand on his shirt. "I made a mess of your shirt." "It'll dry." Brody's soft chuckle at her concern for his shirt warmed her heart and helped eased the ache in her chest. Suddenly, she realized how close his face was to her; she thought he was going to kiss her. His hand rose to her face, and he used his thumb to wipe away tracks left from her tears. Bri braced herself, waiting for the moment when his lips pressed to hers. She closed her eyes in anticipation. "You best be headin' back to the wagon. It'll be time to douse the light in a bit. We leave out at day bust." Bri's eyes opened, and she blinked at the sound of his voice. He hadn't kissed her. The disappointment landed like lead in her stomach. Bri hoped she hadn't let on what she had expected. She didn't need mortification added to the long list of emotions plaguing her right now. With a small smile she definitely didn't feel, she nodded and took a step away from him. Brody started to move with her, but she held out her hand and shook her head. "No. there's no call to escort me. You see to your business with your men. Good night." With that, she turned and walked to the wagon, her heart still low in her chest from memories and the longing to feel Brody's lips on hers. At least, a voice in her head whispered and lightened her heart a notch, she'd been gifted with the feel of his warm body against hers when he'd held her while she cried. Thinking back on it now, the deed surprised her. Most men would take their leave of a woman in hysterics, but Brody didn't hesitate to comfort her. The thought both thrilled and saddened her. He was a man like no other, and a man she could not have. Bri reached the wagon and climbed inside. She had a throbbing ache low in her belly, something that had begun the moment she wanted Brody to kiss her. The sensation was relentless, and she wished it away. Settling onto her pallet, she knew even trying to sleep to be useless. Her body could not sleep during the night, and it was hours until daybreak.  * * * *  Brody watched Bri return to the wagon, his eyes settling on the curves outlined in the men's breeches she wore. His body still felt her close, as if she'd never left his arms. She fit him like a well worn glove; reaching his shoulder, just the right height to lay her head. When he'd stood in front of her, the urge to lean down and kiss those beautiful, trembling lips had been so strong he'd had to clamp his jaw shut. To break the spell, he'd brushed away her tears instead. If he hadn't known better, he would say she'd waited for a kiss. She had closed her eyes, and seemed to have leaned forward. He'd hankered to do just that, but had held himself back. Now, his groin ached, and he knew there would be no release. He was on the trail and not about to go about buttering his corn while his men slept close-by. Brody groaned, slid his hands to the front of his pants, and shifted himself. Bri's life was at sixes and sevens, the pain of her brother's deeds written all over her face, and he was not going to put another iron in the fire. She needed comfort, but he wasn't the right man for the job. She needed to be with one of those society nobs, he told himself. Bri had said she traveled the world with her father and brother. He'd taken the words she chose when she spoke to be proof she'd come for a sound on the goose. No long, dusty trail rides, and no chores of running a ranch house had been her lot. Those things were his life, and all he had to give, he thought grimly. After running his hands through his hair, Brody returned to the fire knowing he needed to get some shut-eye. The sun rose early, and tonight would be another night with little to no sleep.  * * * *  Bri heard the men moving about the camp. She sat up in her makeshift bed, not having gotten an ounce of sleep. Normally she would have been out prowling in the night, watching the creatures come alive and wander through the darkness -- much like her; but she hadn't gotten the chance. Last night she slipped out of the wagon, intent on getting the blood her body still needed from one of the beasts sleeping a ways from camp. As soon as she climbed down from the wagon, she'd run into Brody, then had to think of a reason as to why she'd been up and about. She'd known the reason of necessity hadn't been an option since Brody had been aware of the bucket the Indian had brought her. Instead, she had told him she needed some fresh air due to having difficulty in sleeping. When she'd remembered their meeting earlier that night, she had quickly returned to her place inside the wagon before she'd flushed with embarrassment. Bri's body seemed to move like molasses as she crawled to the front of the wagon and peeled aside the tarp. Daylight approached: streaks of yellow, orange, and red colored the eastern sky. She knew if she wanted to relieve herself and break her fast she had better do it now before the sun began to peak over the horizon. After completing the first of her morning tasks, Bri found herself looking for Brody as she peered out of the rear of the wagon. She didn't find him. Throwing her leg over the wagon's panel, she turned to jump down. Hands gripped her from behind. Bri jumped. Fingers dug into her waist a little higher than she'd like, one hand perilously close to her breast. "You scared me. I . . ." When Bri glanced over her shoulder, her words caught in her throat. Though the grasp was slightly uncomfortable, she expected it to be Brody once again coming to assist her out of the wagon, but it wasn't. This man's eyes seemed to bore into her, his face had not seen a razor in what looked to be months, his breath could kill a horse, and the smile he gave her sent a chill down her spine. Several teeth were missing, and the ones managing to stay rooted inside the black gums were dark and tobacco stained. More disturbing to Bri than the man's looks and lack of hygiene was the recognition of his scent: the same one she'd picked up the night Brody left food at the creek. This was the man who'd hidden among the trees and waited for her to slip out of hiding. Bri's heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. Once again she'd been so wrapped up in thoughts of Brody she hadn't sensed anyone's approach. "Reckon I'd help ya, ma'am." His words were clipped and not at all pleasant. Bri wanted nothing more than to get as far away from this man as possible. Her eyes darted around in hopes of catching any of the other men's attention. Bri smiled tentatively and attempted to ease out of his grip by moving slightly to the side in hopes of getting the meaning across that the man's attentions were not welcome. After several anxious minutes suffering his stone-faced stare over her shoulder, she felt his hands release her waist. Bri quickly jumped from the wagon to put some distance between them. She fought the urge to brush his dirt and stench from her clothes. "Thank you, kind sir." She moved to take another step away from him. "I believe I will wash my hands and see Cookie for the morning meal." The man's cold stare didn't waver. Bri got the feeling he was sizing her up for his next meal. "You lost, Branson?" Brody's voice was music to her ears, and she almost sagged in relief. Actually, she wanted to run to him and hide within the protection of his strong arms. "No, sir. Jest helpin' the lady down from the wagin', 'tis all." With that, the man turned on his heels and walked away. Bri closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. "You alright?" When she opened her eyes, Brody stood in front of her. "Yes, he surprised me." Bri desperately tried to shrug off the matter. She didn't want to cause any fuss among the men. Brody had enough dealings without having to worry about her and mutiny among his hands. "I thought I would get some breakfast," she said to change the subject. Brody smiled, a sight so charming it made her legs weak, and she couldn't help but smile in return. His face looked boyish at times, but other times it was firm and set -- not a man to go toe-to-toe with. The idea brought a sense of pride. It was one of the things she liked about him; Brody knew how to handle himself. She wondered how he would handle her.  * * * *  Seeing Branson with his filthy hands on Bri's person ran through Brody like a rock slide. The man was an ornery cuss and not someone you would introduce to your worst enemy. Brody held in the growl threatening to escape his throat. His mind quickly pointed out the fact the only reason the man remained on the payroll was because Brody's father hired him years ago. He'd felt sorry for the man's inability to find work elsewhere. But it had only taken his father a short spell to learn the why of it. Branson was meaner than a snake and about as poisonous as one; he had to be watched like a hawk. You didn't want to turn your back on him, especially if you were a woman. Stories of Branson's dealing with women had made their way to Brody's ears long ago. He didn't want to scare Bri, but she needed to have care around the man. Brody told himself he would make sure the man stayed clear from her. "You give me a holler if'n he gets you bothered up." Without another word, he escorted her to the Chuckwagon. The men were lining up for breakfast when Bri and Brody joined them. He noticed her glance more than a time or two at the sky. Though it took him a moment, he remembered her trouble with the sun. Glancing up himself, he realized she didn't have long before she needed to return to the covered wagon and out of the sunlight. "We should be at Fort Worth by tomorrow if'n there ain't any difficulty 'tween here and there," Brody said as he led her away from the wagon. "Have you thought 'bout kinfolk to express?" He glanced at her face as he led her to a place to sit. She seemed to search for an answer, but he had a bad feeling he already knew. "No. All I had were my father and brother." "Any friends or partners of your pa's?" he asked handing Bri a tin heaped with the morning's breakfast after she lowered herself to the ground. Knowing he surely barked at a knot, he pushed the subject anyway. He didn't want to leave her in Fort Worth until certain someone would fetch her. Brody settled beside her. After a few moments, she turned to regard him and offered a slight smile. "My father did have business with a man. As soon as I recall his name, I'll contact him while in Fort Worth. I'm sure all will be fine." She sat her tin down at her feet, then turned and placed one hand over his. The warmth of her touch shot clear up his arm. At the same moment, it traveled south to his groin. Brody wanted to pull her close, but dared not to in front of his men. He could already feel their eyes on the two of them, and though he didn't care a continental what they thought, he didn't need to suffer their teasing the rest of the trail. "Brody, you have done so much for me already. Please do not trouble yourself. I'm sure my father's business partner will send for me." A cloud of dust caught Brody's attention, and he stood. From a distance, and closing in fast, a rider approached. Immediately, he recognized the figure astride the beast: Trace. As the Indian did every morning, Trace had gone ahead a few miles to scout for breaks in the trail or other hazards. Reaching camp, Trace slowed his mount to a walk then halted, dismounted, and led his horse to where Brody stood beside Bri. Trace was back earlier than usual. In fact, he hadn't expected the man to return for at least another hour. "Brody. Found wagon in trees," Trace said, pointing in the direction from which he came. The news caught Brody by surprise. "Any folks with the wagon?" Trace shook his head as he turned away and pulled an object from his saddlebag then returned to stand before Brody.  * * * *  When Brody stood to regard a rider approaching camp, Bri had to swallow the lump in her throat. No one would be coming to Fort Worth for her. She hated lying to Brody, but she wanted to save him the trouble of fretting over her. He was a rancher with no time for a woman hanging on him like a child to its mother's skirt. Bri told herself to keep to her story, and once he left her at Fort Worth she would return to hiding. After that she had no idea what she was going to do or how she would survive. But that was her concern, not Brody's. Getting his cattle and men across this dangerous land and through Indian Territory was more than enough weight for one man to bear. Leaning around Brody, she watched Trace dismount, then speak to Brody before removing an item from his saddlebags. Bri's eyes widened, both in surprise and delight when she recognized one of her gowns in Trace's hands. She jumped to her feet so quickly her tin sailed off her lap and onto the ground, her breakfast flying in every direction. "My gown!" Placing her hand on the gown's sleeve, she felt the silk beneath her fingers. Noticing the mass of fabric being pushed closer to her, she glanced up to see Trace offering her the dress. She smiled and accepted it from his hands, then hugged it tightly to her chest. Bri thought she would never see any of her belongings again, but this gown, this one thing, had made its way back to her. It gave her hope. Maybe her tale to Brody will not be a lie after all. Maybe things will indeed work out somehow. "The dress was with the wagon?" Brody's voice cut into Bri's thoughts, the word "wagon" suddenly sinking in. As Trace nodded, Bri could feel her heart race with anxiety. Was it her wagon? Where was Trevor? Realizing what the presence of the wagon really meant, Bri pushed down the sick feeling washing over her. If the wagon was near, she had no doubt Trevor was close by as well. This also meant the high possibility of Trevor's voice inside her head not being a dream after all. Bringing herself out of her thoughts, she turned to Trace and placed a hand on his arm. The man flinched at the touch, but his gaze didn't falter from her face. Bri didn't know if his sudden movement was because she was a white woman, a woman in general or because she was a vampire. Since his father, Frank, knew what she was, she figured Trace knew as well. Whatever the case, she pushed it aside and thanked him. "Trace, thank you for returning this to me." Trace gave a curt nod. Suddenly, Bri realized what she had done with her breakfast, and her face burned with embarrassment. She raised a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness. Look at the mess I made. Cookie is going to be so angry." Tossing the gown over her shoulder, she bent and retrieved the tin. Finding it covered in dirt and mud, Bri worried her lip. Not because of the food she'd wasted, but because of the mess. Laughter made her look up. She found both Brody and Trace smiling and chuckling softly. It was then she realized she must look a sight on her hands and knees fretting over spilled food. "Don't you fuss none. Cookie won't say a cross word." As Brody pulled her to her feet, she noticed his smile fade to be replaced by concern. "Want me to dish up 'nother tin for you to eat in the wagon?" Bri wanted to sigh, curl against him and purr like a content kitten. The man treated her like a precious gift. "No, no. Please, don't go to the trouble. I'm fine." She was lying again. She had taken only a bite or two before Trace had produced the gown, not to mention the fact her need for blood had still not been met. But, she wasn't going to let on to any of those things. Brody didn't need to have a woman underfoot to attend to constantly. With another word of thanks to Trace and a smile at Brody, Bri turned and made her way to the wagon with the idea of packing her dress away neatly. When they arrived at Fort Worth she hoped to be somewhat presentable, vowing she would not embarrass Brody by having him be seen accompanying a woman wearing dirt and men's clothing.   Bri lay in the bed of the wagon, rocking and rolling as the wooden wheels maneuvered over ruts and holes in the dirt and bounced over rocks. Belly full, thanks to Brody who had not believed her story of not needing breakfast and instead brought her another tin heaped with food, Bri held her gown in her lap. She brushed one of the sleeves over her face, feeling the cool silk on her skin. Closing her eyes, she took herself back in time to the opera house in New York -- the last occasion in which she had worn the gown.  "Father, are the Minstrels playing tonight?" Bri's father held her arm in his as he escorted her up the stairs to their reserved balcony seats. "Yes, my dear." Bri felt bursting with excitement. Her father smiled and patted her hand. Glancing over at Trevor ascending the stairs behind them, she noticed he wore his usual scowl, and she knew why. Her father had once again forced him to accompany them to the opera house. Trevor no longer wanted to go to any social event with her and her father, he had pulled away from them, seemingly not wanting to be in their company. Bri's chest tightened at the reality she was losing him. He was no longer the boy who used to play tag with her: the brother she loved dearly. "Come along, Trevor," Bri's father said in a low voice when Trevor stopped on the stairs and eyed a woman who stood off to the side as if waiting for someone. The glint in Trevor's eyes chilled Bri to the bone. Darkened pools, they followed the woman's every move as if hunting prey. Bri's heart sank deeper in her chest. Her brother was becoming more animal than man: cold and calculating.  As Bri watched the stage, Trevor suddenly stood with a growl and stomped away from his seat. After awhile, she felt it difficult to concentrate on the Minstrels. "Father, we need to find Trevor." With a long sigh, her father nodded. Nowhere to be found after over an hour of searching, her father decided to return to the hotel without Trevor, with the declaration her brother would have to arrange for his own coach to return to the hotel.  After a fitful day's sleep, Bri left her bedroom and entered the sitting area. The morning newspaper lay on the table. Words in large, bold print on the front page announced the murder of a woman whose body had been found behind the theatre. Bri lifted the paper and read the woman's description. She felt the blood drain from her face. The notice detailed the likeness of the woman Trevor had devoured with his eyes on the stairs at the theatre. Bri's mind knew without a doubt what her heart did not want to believe. Trevor killed the human female.  Warm tears slid down Bri's cheeks as she swayed with the rocking of the wagon. How could her brother have done such a thing? Where had she and her father gone wrong? Trevor had been loved by both of them; it was he who pushed them away, not the other way around. Of that she was certain. But, despite all Trevor had done in the past, Bri found she couldn't help but continue to hold a spark of hope for her brother. Sleep overcame her, pulling her deeper into her memories as the wagon led the way of the cattle drive along the dusty trail. As they grew closer to Fort Worth, Bri had an uneasy feeling the place held only a new set of troubles for her.   CHAPTER TEN  The wagon stopped earlier than normal for the evening meal. "We're jest outside Fort Worth an'll be stoppin' here for the night," Lil' Dave said as he stood from the wagon's bench, then jumped to the ground. The wagon rocked sharply as it rebalanced itself from the loss of his weight on one side. The overcast sky allowed her to leave the confines of the wagon earlier than usual, and Bri was grateful. Sitting on the hard floor of the wagon, being tossed and bumped against the side-boards and other items, made for a long day; and she had the bruises to prove it. While standing beside the wagon, Bri's eyes searched for Brody. She'd missed him during their mid-day stop. Frank had brought her a tin and a cup of coffee, but hadn't answered her questions when she'd asked about Brody. Bri closed her eyes when the smell of fresh water wafted upon a steady breeze. The sound of it rolling over rocks followed, reaching her ears. Its pops and plops were like music. Wearing a smile, she tossed her gown over her shoulder, leaned inside the wagon to grab the pail, wash cloth, and soap Brody had given her to keep inside to use when she needed, and headed in the direction calling to her: the creek. Water burbled along, shallow in some spots and deeper in others. Bri followed the bank, then stopped where the water seemed to be deeper, desperately wanting to dip her entire body. Since traveling with the group she had only been able to bathe by bucket. Now, she intended on having a good soak. Using her keen sense of hearing she listened carefully to determine the location of the men before stripping down to bare skin. Satisfied she was alone, she shucked her bulky clothes and stepped into the cool water. A sigh escaped her lips, and she completely submersed her head. Pure bliss, Bri thought as she surfaced and laughed softly. Since the spot she'd chosen was too small for swimming, she settled for lying on her back and floating. Bri's peace was short lived. Sensing a presence nearby, she quietly slipped behind a large rock.  * * * *  Brody and Trace rode into camp. After he'd seen the expression on Bri's face as Trace handed her one of her dresses, he'd wanted to see more light shine in her beautiful blue eyes. He'd asked Trace to lead him to the wagon. The wagon, or at least what remained of it, had been nestled between a set of trees where it obviously crashed. The front had been demolished and the team of horses were long gone. No doubt the force of impact disconnected them from the wagon's tongue. A few boxes and crates had lain strewn about the ground, either thrown from the wagon or rooted through by Bri's brother. After he had gone through the boxes and decided upon the plunder he figured Bri would appreciate having, he and Trace stacked the boxes back in the wagon and covered them with tarps from their saddlebags to protect their contents until he could arrange for someone to take them to Fort Worth for Bri. Once finished they had set out to search for signs of her brother. Though it had been two weeks, according to Bri, since her brother left her, Brody had hoped to find some sign of the direction the man had taken. More than that, he had wanted to find the man dead. Hours of searching had revealed nothing. Brody and Trace had discontinued their search and directed their mounts to the scheduled to stop for the night: just outside Fort Worth. As Brody handed his horse over to the wrangler, he glanced around the camp, noting some of the men were eating dinner, but most were readying themselves for a trip into town. Brody knew the men had been itching for a layover after several weeks on the trail; he was sure most would wind up in one of the whiskey mills and hoped like hell they didn't raise a ruckus. He didn't want to have to fetch someone from the pokey come morn. "Lil' Dave, where's Bri?" Lil' Dave stopped in mid-chew and jerked his head to the side. "She gone to the crik to warsh." Brody nodded and set off in that direction. He wondered if any of the men had even thought to keep an eye on her for her protection. Brody cut the thought short with a mental snarl. No man had best be laying eyes on her bathing in the creek. As he neared the water, he smelled tobacco. One of the men was indeed keeping an eye on Bri, but much too close an eye for his liking. Recognizing the man standing on the edge of the creek with his rifle resting in the crook of his arms and a sly smile on his face, Brody let out a growl of anger. "Branson. You got some business here?" As Branson glanced over his shoulder and took a drag off his cigarette, letting a lazy stream of smoke out of his mouth, Brody reined in all his control so as not to land a bunch of fives in the man's mush. "No need to get yer dander up, Boss. Jest checkin' on the lil' lady. Shouldn't be goin' off by herself. Ain't safe. Injuns could be 'round." Brody didn't believe Branson's excuse for a minute. "I got it from here. Thank ya' kindly for lookin' after her." After Branson tipped his hat and sauntered off towards camp, Brody let out a long breath. He didn't want to have a confrontation with the man, especially not in front of Bri, but he would if need be. Bri's men's clothing was folded neatly atop a pile of rocks beside the water. On them lay the dress. Images of her shucking the shirt and breeches, then wading out into the water in nothing but her bare, soft skin clouded his mind, and he cleared his throat to push them aside. "Bri?" "I'm here," a small voice replied before he noticed movement behind a large rock. "You okay?" "Yes, thank you." "You can get yerself dressed now. He's gone. I'll turn my back." Just as he said he would, Brody turned his back, and heard soft splashes as Bri emerged from the water and stepped onto the bank. In his mind's eye he pictured her standing naked, water glistening on her creamy skin and her long, black hair dripping as it clung to her body. Brody had to close his eyes and grit his teeth before he moaned aloud. He tried to control himself and willed the erection pulsing behind his pants to ease before he turned around, certain she would see full well what he had on his mind. "I'm finished." When Brody faced her once more, his breath caught in his throat. Bri had donned the dress Trace retrieved from her wagon. She was a doll. Afraid if he touched her she would break, he didn't move, didn't speak. After a few moments, he finally realized Bri nervously shifted her weight from one foot to another, obviously waiting for him to say or do something besides stare at her like a numbskull. "You look a mite lovely, Bri."  * * * *  Bri glanced down at her gown and brushed away imaginary wrinkles. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it." She realized how true that statement was. She was glad he approved, and she knew she couldn't deny he was the reason she had put on the dress. "I be needin' a hot bath, and a soft bed sure does sound right fine, so's I had a mind to take us to town . . . uh . . . I mean, that is if they be havin' two rooms available. I reckoned you might be thankful not to be sleepin' in the wagon again." He smiled that beautiful smile, melting her heart and weakening her knees. Even covered with dust she found him to be the handsomest man she had ever seen. "Yes. I guess I should go into town to get myself settled and send a telegram to my father's business partner." Bri almost groaned at uttering another lie to Brody. She really hated not being truthful to him, but what else could she do? He certainly wouldn't want her traveling with him all the way to Kansas. If she did go with him, what then? He would get tired of having her on the trail, and leave her in some town just like he planned to do now. Fort Worth or Kansas, the outcome would be the same. Brody lifted the shirt and pants from the rock and turned in the direction of camp. They walked in silence a few minutes until a sharp bark of laughter from Brody made her jump. "Bri?" "Yes?" She watched him smile to himself and wondered what he was going to ask. "I've been hankerin' to ask where you got these men-folk duds." Remembering how she acquired the pants, shirt, and boots, Bri couldn't hold back her laugh. But as embarrassment settled in at having to voice the act aloud, she looked down at the ground and brushed a rock with the toe of her boot. "I borrowed them." Glancing up, she caught Brody staring at her with a raised eyebrow, and she could see in his eyes he knew there to be more to the story. She laughed this time, but more from nerves than humor. "There was a man who wasn't using them, so I borrowed them." Telling Brody she had snuck up on a man bathing naked in the river and stolen his clothes -- leaving only his drawers -- was not something she felt comfortable doing. "There's really nothing to tell." Deciding to change the subject, she spoke again. "Did you ride ahead to check the trail? I did not see you at the last stop." Brody turned his face back to the direction of the camp, but did not answer her question. His pace quickened. Bri found herself having to hurry along to keep up. "Let's toss these here duds in the back of the wagon 'fore grabbing chow. Someone else may need 'em." Brody's grin showed he was joshing, and she playfully batted his arm. When they reached the wagon Brody pulled aside the flap, and the air rushed from Bri's lungs. Her mouth dropped by its own accord as she stared at her things piled on the floor: gowns, shoes, her hairbrush and comb, and even her small traveling case containing personal toiletries. Blinking back tears of joy, she turned and launched herself into Brody's arms. Her heart swelled to bursting with gratitude for his kindness. He'd made the trip to her father's wagon and brought back some of her things. He had done so just for her. "Oh, thank you, Brody," she said, pulling back to look at his face. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it." The expression on Brody's face as he held her in his arms made her heart jump, and her smile faded. His eyes darkened as he stared down at her lips. She knew what he wanted, and she wanted it, too. Bri didn't hesitate. Standing on tiptoes, she put her lips to his. Never having kissed a man, she didn't actually know what she was doing, but she didn't let that stop her. She held on tight, hoping Brody would take the lead and not reject her attention. To her relief, he didn't. Brody immediately returned the kiss, moving his lips over hers before sliding his tongue along the bottom one, making it tingle. If Brody weren't holding on to her, Bri felt she would surely collapse. His kisses felt so unbelievably good, she wanted to melt into him. His tongue danced with hers; rough, warm, and wet. Finally, he broke the kiss. They both tried to catch their breath, staring once again into each other's eyes for clues as to the thoughts running around each other's head. Time seemed to stand still. No one else existed but the two of them, until Brody blinked and cleared his throat. Slowly lowering his arms, he stepped out of their embrace. "I'll saddle up two horses whilst you get ready. I'd be a mite pleased if you would accompany me for dinner." Bri nodded vigorously and watched as he walked away. She brought two fingers up to her lips, still feeling the tingle and the warmth of his lips on hers. She had wanted him to kiss her, and although she had made the first move, he had done so, and it had been magnificent. With a giddy heart, Bri hiked up her dress and climbed into the wagon.  * * * *  With a hard pull, Brody cinched up the straps on the saddle on a mare for Bri. Deep down he hoped she did not know how to ride, which meant she would need to ride with him. The thought of her backside pressed against him sent his blood racing right to the front of his pants, making them grow uncomfortably tight. Easy boy, he told himself. She'll be headin' back to Gotham, London, or some other fancy city, and you'll still be riding the dirt trail, herding cattle. "I am ready," a voice called from behind. Brody turned. Bri had settled on a different dress, this one less fancy than the dress she had worn earlier. It was blue, the same brilliant color as her eyes. The color of her dress and the darkness of her hair made her eyes twinkle as if stars lit within them. Her hair was piled on her head with strands dangling to her shoulders. A pang of guilt hit him as he gazed at the beautiful woman all dolled up and right fitting for an evening in town. Shame had him wishing he had on his best bib and tuckers. Instead, he had to accompany her in his threadbare clothes, ones with too many days out on the trail. She would sure be right shamed, he thought grimly. Bri's soft chuckle pulled him out of his thoughts. "What's so funny?" he asked with a frown, wondering if she laughed at his raggedy duds. "You're staring." He watched her cover her mouth as if trying to stop laughing. He smiled in return, thankful to find she wasn't laughing at his manner of dress. "Maybe it's 'cause I've never seen a purdier woman, 'specially not have one stand so close to me." The blush creeping up her face was the sweetest thing he ever saw. "Can you ride?" Brody asked, patting the mare's saddle. Though he loved to see her blush, he didn't want to make her feel too uncomfortable. He wanted her to be at ease, to be herself, and tell him all about her life. "Yes. Father had purchased riding lessons, though it had been mostly indoors, of course." Brody tried to not let his disappointment show as he helped Bri mount. After settling upon his own saddle, he led them out of camp. Turning toward town, he began a slow, leisurely pace.  * * * *  Branson stood at the bar, a glass of whiskey in front of him. He lifted the glass to his lips and drank it down with one swallow before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Finally got the night away from the boss, I see?" Branson glanced to his side to see a well-dressed man, most likely a businessman, saddling up to the bar next to him. He scowled, and tapped his glass on the counter to get the bartender's attention for another shot of whiskey. "You be a wantin' somethin'?" Branson barked. He was not in the mood for company. The guy standing next to him laughed. "No, my good man. It's the other way around. I have something you want." A heavy sigh escaped Branson, his agitation at being bothered growing. His intentions were to drink enough tar water until he could no longer feel his toes, then find a female to . . . "I noticed the camp set up just outside of town and observed your boss ride in with a young woman. She happens to be my sister. I had been in the act of returning her to New York when she had left my care. Cold feet, you see. Seems she decided she doesn't want to marry her intended." "What's that got to do with me?" Branson was already bored with the stranger. He silently willed the man to leave him to drink in peace. When Branson signaled once more for the bartender, the man grabbed his arm and told the bartender to bring a full bottle. After the bottle had been placed on the bar, Branson watched the man pay with money he pulled from his breast pocket. Branson eyeballed the man's greenbacks, thinking he just hit paydirt, and intending on lightening the man's load of folding money before the night was over. But, when he lifted his gaze and looked the man in the eye, he froze. The man's eyes were black as coal. An air of death emanated from him. Branson felt it seep into his bones as though he gazed at the face of the devil himself. "I see I have your attention," the man drawled with a sly smile. "I need your help with something." Branson downed another glass. "I'm listnin'."   CHAPTER ELEVEN  Bri glanced at the darkening sky. Picturesque colors of red, purple and blue followed the sun's departure. "The night is beautiful," she said. Turning to Brody, she found him staring at her, his green eyes darkening with the fading light. After a moment, he tipped back his head and gazed at the sky. "Yep, sure is," he replied before turning back to her with a broad smile. The flickering lights of town came into view as they rode forward. Bri's imagination had her wondering what Fort Worth would be like. She'd been to a few towns along the way from Chicago to Texas, but never stayed for very long. Her father stopped only long enough for supplies, and to acquire another guide when theirs decided not to go any further. Each time that happened she wondered why the men had changed their minds. Though her father paid them handsomely, something turned them away, overpowering their urge to earn a substantial amount of money. "Is there any particulars you be needin' at the general store? I'm sure B.C. Evans' Dry Goods has ladies' fixin's." Bri smiled inwardly again at his kindness. "No," she replied, shaking her head. "You brought back plenty of my things to keep me comfortable for awhile." "Ever been to Fort Worth?" Bri hadn't been anywhere in Texas besides lost. "No." A long sigh passed Brody's lips. "Well, it's got a reputation. I wanted to warn you 'bout what you may be gettin' a gander of." Bri raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was going to tell her about the town. "They call it 'Cowtown' 'cause cattle drivers take a layover here, and parts here be known as Hell's Half Acre." "Sounds ominous," she said with a grin. Brody returned her grin and nodded. "I reckon you could say that. Not rightly hospitable for most folk." Bri almost laughed at the delicate way Brody attempted to describe Hell's Half Acre to her. From reading tales about the place after her father had said they were headed for Texas, she knew exactly what type of place that part of town was. "Have you been to Hell's Half Acre, Brody?" Bri noticed Brody jerk slightly at the question, then fidget as though the answer made him uncomfortable. She stifled a giggle at putting him on the spot. "A time or two." Short and clipped came his answer. He also didn't look at her when he voiced it. Bri should have guessed his answer. A handsome man who rode the trail as long as any of his men, it stood to reason he would desire to see to his needs every once in awhile. He was a man after all, she reasoned. His answer should not have put a knot in her stomach, but it did. Besides, she should not have asked the question if she did not like the answer, she mentally berated.  * * * *  Brody noticed Bri went silent after he answered her question. He had been to Hell's Half Acre a time or two and he'd been truthful about it as lying wasn't his nature. Wasn't that what most unattached men did when out on the trail for weeks and even months? Why did he feel guilty about it now? He hadn't known Bri then. The two of them were not courting. He fancied her right enough, but what were her feelings for him? Brody turned his horse toward the town's main street. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bri taking it all in. They passed the town's Post Office. Brody made a mental note to stop in after Bri remembered where to reach her pa's business partner to let the man know of her pa's death, and her current situation. The thought of having to say goodbye and leaving her in this town while he continued on the cattle drive ate at his insides. "Up yonder's a nice hotel. They serve eats in the kitchen." When Bri nodded, he continued on to the hotel.  * * * *  Brody dismounted and tied the reins to the hitching post. Before Bri could blink she felt his strong hands on her waist as she swung her leg over the saddle. His touch made her skin tingle and she enjoyed the sensation. "Thank you," she breathed. Bri could tell she blushed from the heat she felt in her cheeks. A sly grin crossed his face, melting her all the way to her toes. Bri blinked and had to turn away, switching her focus to her travel bag to regain her composure. Every time they were face-to-face, she couldn't stop imagining him taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless. "I'll be toten' that for you," Brody said as he leaned around where she stood and grabbed her bag, brushing against her as he did so. Bri surveyed the hotel. "This looks pleasant enough," she said as she lifted the hem of her dress and stepped onto the hotel's porch. A pair of chairs sat unoccupied in the corner. Bri imagined two older gentlemen resting in those chairs, watching folks pass by. Following Brody inside, Bri stood in the lobby and glanced around the room. She found it open and inviting. The woodwork gleamed as if recently oiled. Feeling a tug on her arm, Bri turned her attention to where a young man fidgeted behind a counter. She figured he probably wasn't used to greeting guests at the desk alone. "We'll be havin' two rooms for the evenin', please," Brody told the young man who nodded, then made a notation in the guest register before handing it to Brody. Bri watched the elegant movements of Brody's large, rough hands as he signed the paper in two spaces then removed money from his pocket and placed it on the desk. "Bring a tub to Miss Wallace's room." Brody turned to Bri, and she noticed a twinkle in his eyes. He looked pleased to be here with her, which made her feel warm inside. "I'm gonna have a shave and hot bath at the bath house, then join up with you in the dinin' hall in 'bout an hour." "Alright," she said. "Enjoy your bath." She watched Brody turn and walk out the door, his leisurely swagger making her forget everything and everyone else around her until she heard the young man clear his throat. Bri turned to see the young man standing by the stairs with her bag in his hands. "Right this way, ma'am." Ducking her head to hide her embarrassment, she walked to the staircase and followed the man to her room. The room was clean and the bed was soft. Bri stretched out on her back and gazed at the ceiling. The last couple of days have surely been an adventure, she thought to herself, half amused and half exhausted, both mentally and physically. How had her life managed to get so turned upside down? Trevor. Yes, Trevor was the cause, her mind replied. He had always been the cause of their family uprooting at the drop of a hat. Bri flung her arm over her eyes. It hurt to think of the lengths her father had gone to keep them safe, and how hard he had worked to make sure they had lived their lives at ease without fear of being discovered. A knock at the door made her jump. "Yes?" "Yer' tub ma'am," a croaky voice called from behind the painted wood. Bri rose from the bed. Opening the door wide, she stepped aside as two boys carried in a large tub. After placing the tub on the floor, they left the room, only to return moments later with buckets of hot water. Bri thanked them. Both boys blushed, which she attributed to their youth. After retrieving her wash cloth and the rose petal soap she had brought from England, she undressed and settled into the tub, wanting to soak away her troubles. She had only this one night left with Brody. One night to be happy again. Bri knew there was something between them. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. Looking and acting upon are two different things. A long sigh signaled her agreement with the thought. Even if Brody did have the slightest feelings for her, that didn't mean he would stay with her tonight, or any other night for that matter. He was leaving tomorrow, and she wasn't. She was going back to living in solitude and hiding among the shadows with no money and no possessions save what she had in her travel bag. She was in a real fix. Brody said he would arrange for someone to fetch her things from the wagon and to deliver them here. Bri wondered if Trevor had taken all of her father's money and everything else of value. She hoped there was something left she could sell. Maybe she could purchase a small piece of land and have a tiny cabin built. All she needed was shelter from the light of day and a few odds and ends to make life bearable.  * * * *  The water felt warm and soothing. Brody couldn't hold back the groan that escaped as he laid head against the rim of the deep tub. It had been several weeks since he'd had the luxury of a sit-down bath, and he planned on enjoying every minute of it. Closing his eyes, images of Bri appeared on the back of his eyelids. What was it about her had him all balled up? Everything. Yes, that was true. The woman was not only beautiful beyond words, she had grit, was pleasurable to talk to, educated, set among society, destined to marry someone of worth . . . Brody, you're off your nut. She's not for you. Brody sighed, then let himself sink under the water to drown his sorrow. His conscience was right. Bri deserved so much more than a dusty rancher who rode the trail. She needed fancy gowns with dinners and dances to attend. She needed theater and carriage rides through the park. He knew all about those things, not firsthand, but from tales his ma had told him as a child. Brody thought about his parents. They had come from England to see the new world and had settled in Texas to follow a dream of her pa's -- cattle ranching. Brody let out a breath, hearing the bubbles as they broke through the surface of the water, and wondered what had made his pa want to become a rancher.   Brody knocked lightly on the door to Bri's room. When the door opened the scent of roses wafted over him. He couldn't help but close his eyes and inhale. Opening them, he found Bri standing in front of him as she held the door. He noticed her fidget nervously from one foot to another as if waiting for him to speak. Brody cleared his throat. "I waited downstairs a spell and when you didn't show, I figured I'd check to make sure you be alright." A small smile of embarrassment slid across Bri's face which made him want to pull her into his arms. She was fragile, yet strong enough to go up against a wildcat. She was young, yet her eyes held wisdom as if she had lived more than her share of years. "I fell asleep in the bath. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I will be ready in a moment . . . as soon as I braid my hair." Brody entered the room and closed the door behind him. He was careful to stay by the door, because if he entered the room fully he would surely strip her naked and toss her on the bed. When Bri bent over to wipe water that had pooled on the floor beside the tub, Brody had to clench his jaws before he either groaned from the pressure of his growing erection against his pants, or growled at the sight of her round bottom pointed in his direction. Unable to take anymore, Brody moved forward. "Here, let me do that whilst you tend to your hair." Bri straightened and looked at him curiously before handing over the drying cloth. She removed her brush from her travel bag and began with long, slow strokes. Brody had thought the scent of her soap to be enough to drive him mad, but that long, beautiful, silk mane of hers was making his fingers itch to sift through the ebony strands the way her brush was doing at that very moment. He sat perfectly still, watching each stroke until she stopped and turned her face to him. The sudden movement broke the spell, and he quickly resumed the job of wiping up the puddles of water. Heat flooded his neck and his ears. What in tarnation? Embarrassed? He had never been embarrassed over watching a woman a day in his life! Man was he ever in a fix. If he didn't get back on the trail, and soon, he was going to do something stupid like fall in love with Brianna Wallace, a woman totally out of his grasp. When Brody finished sopping up the water with the towel he stood and turned to Bri to find she had braided her hair and had wound it in a circle at the nape of her neck. A pair of pearl combs held it in place. The smile on her face as she stood before him, as if ready for his inspection, stole his breath. "Beautiful." The only word Brody could force from his lips. The sight of her seemed to keep him addled. Bri giggled behind fingers that touched her lips. The same ones he wanted to kiss, to taste. "Shall we?" Brody stepped forward and held out his arm. Once Bri's slender hand rested on his bicep, he escorted her to the door and down to the dining hall.  * * * *  The dining hall was full. Seated in the middle of the room, Bri found herself surrounded by talking, laughter, the clink of utensils, and a few bodily noises she knew most folks believed to be a sign of a good meal. An older woman approached. She wore an apron over her cotton dress. Her hair was piled high on top her head and her face flushed from the heat of the kitchen. "Evenin' folks. There's fried chick'n, dumplin's, beans, and pie for de'sert." Bri's stomach almost growled aloud while the woman spoke of the meal choices for the night. "Sounds like a mighty fine meal." Brody turned his attention to Bri. "Care for lemonade or sweet tea?" "Oh, sweet tea would be fine." The room wobbled a bit. Bri realized she had gone far too long without blood. She quickly caught the woman's attention just as she'd turned to leave. "May I make a request of my chicken?" Bri hesitated a moment as the woman waited for her to continue. "I wish to have my chicken not fully cooked." The woman's eyebrows rose. Bri turned to Brody with a nervous smile. "I like my chicken moist and full of flavor." After a few moments, the woman nodded and walked away, heading for the kitchen. Making busy with her napkin, Bri waited. She had a feeling Brody had more questions to ask her.   CHAPTER TWELVE  Brody thought Bri's request to have her chicken not fully cooked to be a mite strange, but then again, she wasn't from this country. He figured where she was from such things were probably normal. Racking his brain for conversation, Brody blurted the first thing that came to mind. "You smell right nice, Bri. Like a field of flowers." Stupid. Bri smiled, evidentially pleased with his compliment. A few moments of silence passed before Bri spoke. "Where are you going after you leave Fort Worth?" Leaving. He had managed to push the thought out of his mind for a little while, and hated she brought it up. Leaning back in his chair, Brody folded his hands together on the table. "We'll leave out in the mornin' to get the broad horns to the shippin' pens in Kansas." He watched Bri lower her eyes once again and continue to fidget with her napkin. Brody thought he saw sadness in her face before she looked away, but dismissed it, telling himself it was only because she would be alone in town. Nothing more. Their meal arrived. None too soon, Brody thought, as the silence between them had become uncomfortable. Minutes into the meal, Brody looked up from his plate and watched Bri as she enjoyed her food. Though obviously hungry, he noticed she did her best to retain her social graces, taking the daintiest of bites and chewing them thoroughly. Her lips were glossy with moisture and he wanted desperately to lean over the table and taste the meal on the soft petals. His eyes followed her fork as she lifted it to her mouth. Something he caught sight of stunned him. Brody blinked quickly to make sure his imagination had not once again run riot. Two long, pearly white fangs were visible in Bri's mouth as her lips parted to receive the morsel of meat. Brody dismissed it as pure nonsense. When Bri glanced up at him, she stopped in mid-chew and swallowed quickly. "Is something wrong?" Brody realized he stared. He cleared his throat. "No, uh, aren't you gonna eat your beans? They keep you strong and healthy." He smiled widely at her, thankful for his quick thinking. Laughing softly, she shook her head. Brody had figured she wouldn't. He had first-hand knowledge the affect the Mexican whistlers had on his ranch hands while on the trail. He wasn't immune to them himself. Brody almost laughed at the thought of a woman trying to remain composed and proper when the ill effects of the beans hit her insides.  * * * *  After the meal, Bri was elated when Brody asked if she cared to take a walk along the town's main street. Bri's hand rested lightly on Brody's forearm. In the distance, she heard a coyote howl. Another answered the call. A gentle breeze kissed Bri's face as it passed, and she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes, tilting her head back slightly, and inhaling the night air. This was her time; when her body came alive. She always had the urge to roam at night and was glad for the walk. Her mind replayed the last couple of days and how her life had changed. She had not been alone, and enjoyed good food and conversation. There had been the anticipation of awaking the next day just to see Brody again. But, despite her current happiness, she knew it would not last. The night breeze increased in strength, making the hem of her dress ruffle. Bri got an uneasy feeling, one which made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Trevor. Her brother was here -- somewhere in Fort Worth. She scanned the town in all directions, but didn't catch even the slightest glimpse of him. Bri couldn't dismiss the voice telling her he lurked in the shadows, watching. Thunder rumbled in the distance, catching their attention. "Reckon we best be gettin' indoors," Brody said, his gaze going to the sky. Bri nodded her agreement and held on a little tighter to his arm as they made their way back to the hotel, partly because of the wind, but partly because of the strong feeling Trevor was close. They stepped inside the hotel's lobby just in time. The night sky opened up and let loose a pour of rain. Bri looked at Brody and they both laughed at how close they came to getting drenched.  * * * *  While Bri climbed the stairs, Brody approached the desk to obtain the key to his room. Once again, the young boy occupied the desk. Brody immediately noticed how the boy looked overly anxious. He had a feeling something was wrong, and whatever it was, he wasn't going to like it. "I'm right sorry, Sir," the young man squeaked. "There ain't no other room. I was wrong afore." Brody grit his teeth and bit back the curse that lay on the tip of his tongue. Though he'd been looking forward to sleeping in a soft bed, it seemed he would have to settle for sleeping in the Livery with the horses. He could try another hotel, but the thought of being away from Bri didn't sit well. At least the Livery was only a few buildings away, he told himself in an attempt to ease his aggravation. After accepting the return of the money he'd paid for the second room, he climbed the stairs to tell Bri the news. Knocking softly, he waited until he heard her voice on the other side of the door. "Yes?" "It's Brody." The door opened, and Bri gave him a concerned look. "Is everything alright?" When Bri stepped aside, he entered the room. "They done sold my room. I jest wanted to tell you I'm a headed for the Livery for the night. The other hotels are farther in town, but I don't feel right 'bout leavin' you up here alone." He was speaking the truth, more so than he cared to admit. He didn't feel right about leaving her alone, tonight or any other night.  * * * *  A thought flashed through Bri's mind, and she knew if she didn't act upon it quickly she would lose her nerve. Now was her chance to experience true happiness. It was her chance to really live and love. "Brody?" Bri closed the distance between them and placed her hands upon his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath her fingers. Its rhythm called to her like a song. She gazed into his eyes. "I don't want you to go. Please, stay here with me tonight." Bri noticed Brody's anger at losing his room fade instantly. It turned into something intense. His eyelids drooped, and his gaze dropped to her lips. Inside, her mind screamed for him to kiss her again, as he had done at the camp. When his mouth slowly descended upon hers, her breath caught in her throat. Wet and Warm. Bri leaned into him, releasing herself into strong arms that encircled her waist and back. Bri felt cocooned in Brody's warmth as he slid his lips over hers. The sensation of his tongue swiping across her lower lip made her gasp, and when she did, he slid his tongue inside. She found his taste exhilarating, and her mind declared its desire to kiss Brody like this forever. The feelings and emotions going through her head were both exciting and scary. Never had she done this sort of thing. Never had she wanted to. She had occupied her life with knowledge: learning about different cultures and lands. But her knowledge had been merely what she had found in books, not what happened in real life. When Brody eased his hold on her and pulled back, the expression in his eyes surprised her. Dark and hungry, he stared at her. His chest rose and fell rapidly. "Bri," he said hoarsely. "I need to go or I won't be able to stop myself." Bri smiled coyly and whispered, "Stay."  * * * *  That one spoken word from Bri's soft lips was all Brody's body needed to hear. He swept her into his arms, kicked the door closed with his boot, and gently laid her on the bed. Lying alongside her, he lifted himself on one elbow to look down at her face as he ran a finger along her jawline. Brody marveled at how soft her skin felt against his hard hands. "You are so beautiful, Brianna," he breathed. Brody couldn't believe this to be happening. It had been a long time since he had taken a woman to bed, but this felt different, right. Much more than simply satisfying a need. He wanted to take his time and make it last forever. After another slow, languid kiss, he slid off the bed and pulled her into a sitting position. Easing behind her, he began the task of undoing the buttons down the back of her dress. As he unfastened the first one, he heard her sharp intake of breath. "What are you doing?" Bri asked in a shaky voice. He noticed her body go ramrod straight. Brody leaned around so he could see her face. "Removin' your dress. I want to see you. All of you." He watched her eyes grow wide. Realization set in. "Bri. Have you never been with a man?" When she slowly shook her head, Brody's heart stopped. He didn't know whether to be glad or terrified he would be her first. Sweet biscuits! The pressure of doing his best to make sure this was something wonderful she would remember always was enough to shrivel a horse.  * * * *  Bri felt Brody release the back of her dress. When he began to slide from the bed, she couldn't stop the panic rising inside. Was it wrong to be inexperienced? Why did that make him stop? Turning quickly, she placed a hand on Brody's arm. "No, don't stop. I want this. I want you." She stared into his eyes, hoping to change his mind and bring back the hunger she had seen earlier in their green depths. "Please," she leaned in and whispered on his lips. "Give me this night for a memory to cherish -- a memory of you." To continue her attempt to convince Brody to stay, Bri placed her hands on his face. She felt the smoothness of his recently shaved skin and settled her mouth over his, kissing him with all the intensity and passion he had shown her moments before. Releasing the kiss, she smiled, then turned and gave him access to the back of her dress once again. Relief settled in when she felt the bed move as Brody scooted into position behind her, but anxiety and a little fear of what was about to happen between them remained. His fingers brushed against the nape of her neck sending shivers down her spine. This is really happening. I am actually going to do this. The thoughts fluttered through her mind as she focused on the feel of his hands working their way down her back, releasing a button from its hook, then another, and another. The cool air whispered on her skin as he opened the back of the dress and spread the fabric over her shoulders. Warm, wet kisses followed in its wake. Bri felt as though she would melt under his ministrations. As if she was a goddess, he seemed to worship her body with every touch of his hand, every kiss from his lips and every fiery glance from his eyes. A slight tug on her hair preceded the braid releasing from the combs holding it in place. Bri felt Brody shift to lay them on the table next to the bed before he returned once again to her hair. Slowly, he unwound the braid until the strands of her hair flowed freely over her shoulders and down her back. From behind her, Bri heard a breathy sigh as Brody sifted her hair through his hands, giving her scalp a gentle message. She closed her eyes to focus on his touch.  * * * *  Brody marveled at the silky feel of Bri's long, black hair, its softness and rich color unlike anything he had ever seen or touched. He couldn't stop himself from leaning in and allowing the strands brush his face as he took in the scent of roses from her soap. After pushing the fabric of her dress aside, revealing the chemise she wore underneath, he slid his hands over her collar bone to reach the ties. The dress slid from her shoulders and pooled at her waist. Once he untied the chemise, he pushed it off her shoulders as well. The linen fell away, baring her shoulders and entire back to his eyes. Milky white skin, soft and smooth, greeted him. Brody feathered kisses along her shoulders and down her neck, letting his breath heat the moisture left behind each kiss. "Beautiful," he whispered into her ear before gently nipping her earlobe then sucking it into his mouth. Her shudder and sharp intake of breath made him smile. Though bare to the waist, Brody wanted to see more of her. Easing himself away, he stood before her. Bri didn't look at him. Her cheeks pinkened, showing her embarrassment of being naked in front of a man. When she brought up her arms to cover herself, Brody grasped her hands and held them in his. "No. Let me see you. I've been a yearnin' to touch you since the day I found you in that there cave." Brody tugged on her hands until she stood, though very slowly, before him. Her eyes met his. The unease and fear he noticed within their depths bothered him. "Bri, I promise I will not hurt you." She gave him a tentative smile, though the nervousness still shown on her face. Brody found himself utterly in awe of her beauty. He inwardly vowed to show her just how lovely he thought her in his eyes and in his heart.  * * * *  Bri stood on wobbly knees before Brody. The top of her dress and chemise undone, both barely hung on her hips. The cool air on her chest had her skin covered in goosebumps, and Brody's caresses and kisses brought her nipples to taut peaks, begging for his touch. She had dreamt of this: being loved so gently, so reverently, by a handsome man. Lately, those dreams had been of Brody. He was that handsome man. The fire in his eyes as he looked at her stole her breath. Green eyes shone like emeralds, gazing over her body from head to toe before returning to her face. She wondered what he saw. Would he think her beautiful if he knew the truth? Bri quickly pushed the thought aside. Brody did not know she was a vampire, and she had no reason to tell him. Tonight would be the last she would see him. Bri allowed him to pull her close. He leaned in and she did as well, meeting his mouth. Brody's kiss was far deeper this time, and it thrilled her. The passion overwhelmed her senses. Want and need radiated off him in waves. Her breasts pressed against his warm chest as one of his arms slid around her waist and the other up her back. His hand gently cradled the nape of her neck. Through the fabric of her dress Bri felt the hardness of his groin against her stomach. She stepped in closer, pressing herself further into the bulge of his breeches. The growl he made vibrated in his chest and through hers.  * * * *  Brody broke the kiss. On the edge of his control, his erection throbbed, begging to be released from the confines of his pants. He stared into Bri's eyes, finding them glazed with desire. Her face flush, her lips were pink and swollen from kissing, and Brody found himself wanting to see her this way every night for the rest of his days. Reaching for her dress and chemise, he pulled the material over her hips then released it, letting the fabric fall to the floor at her feet. Without breaking eye contact, he swept her off her feet and laid her on the bed. Standing, he took another long, slow sweep of her naked body lying before him. Never had he seen something so beautiful in his life. Never had he cared so deeply to feel a woman's soft skin or touch her from her silky hair to her toes. After removing his colts and placing them on the table beside the bed, his hands went to his belt. He unbuckled it, and allowed the belt to drop to the floor. Yanking the hem of his shirt free from his pants with a hard tug, he pulled the fabric over his head then tossed it on a nearby chair. With shaky fingers, he slid his trousers and drawers over his hips, feeling relieved to have his erection free. Seeing Bri's eyes go wide, Brody took her expression as a compliment. Brody settled on the bed and stretched out alongside Bri with his leg lying over hers. He allowed his erection to press into her hip. Knowing this to be new to her, he searched for any sign the position made her uneasy or wary. He watched the quick rise and fall of her chest a moment before laying a palm over one of her breasts. As he massaged and kneaded the soft mass, he rubbed his thumb over the nipple. Bri's moan sung to his ears, the sound telling him she enjoyed his touch on this part of her body. Leaning in, he took the other nipple into his mouth. As Bri's hands slid into his hair, they massaged his scalp. Brody kept up his attention to her breast before deciding to move forward to the next step. Releasing the tease of one breast with his hand and thumb, he slid his hand down her belly and lower to her soft curls while continuing to nip and suckle her other breast. Bri gasped. Brody halted his hand and waited. When she made no protest, he continued. Finding the slit of her outer lips, she gasped again and whispered his name, but still did not stop him. Brody's fingers found moisture and his erection jumped, jutting itself hard into her hip.   CHAPTER THIRTEEN  Bri thought Brody's touch on her breasts with his hands and mouth was heaven, but when his hand slid between her thighs she lost all thought. His fingers separated the folds of her private area, and one finger slipped inside. The sensation shocked her, and she jerked. The surprise instantly vanished, leaving her caught up in pleasure. His touch moved over sensitive parts, and her body came alive in places she never dreamed had the ability. "Brody." His name escaped her lips on a sigh. What he did to her maddened her in the most delicious way she could ever imagine. His finger slid inside, then out, and then circled the flesh between her folds before doing it again. The wetness his finger spread on her skin made her want more. The ache between her legs increased. A drop of moisture from his manhood touched her hip. His hand between her legs, he ground against her side. The hard part of him pressed into her, then released, in a rhythm matching the one his fingers made. Bri's heart beat faster. She panted, trying to keep up with the demands of her lungs. A wild frenzy built inside of her. Wanting to kiss him again, Bri tugged his hair until he lifted his face. Cupping his chin in both hands, she pulled him to her mouth and kissed him fiercely. All fear of her first coupling lost, raw desire took its place. The pleasure his touch gave her made her unable to wait to learn of more sensations. She shifted, moving to the side until the hard part of him no longer pressed into her hip and lay between her legs, close to where his fingers threatened to make her cry with joy. Brody removed his fingers and situated himself over her body. As she stared into his eyes she felt the tip of his manhood against her opening. The solid, extended part of him slowly entered her. Much bigger than his finger and slightly uncomfortable, Bri forced herself to relax, allowing him further inside her body. Bri felt her insides stretch to take him in. Though the fullness felt a little uncomfortable, the ache between her legs and intense want of more pleasure made it bearable. Holding tightly to his shoulders, she felt his muscles rise and dip beneath her hands. Ever so gently, he moved. Bri felt her heart swell with the care he took with her. She knew he held himself back. Once, Bri caught a peek at a couple in the alley below her hotel room's window who'd thought themselves hidden within the shadows. Her night vision had allowed her to see everything. The man had pushed forward fast and hard, much faster and harder than Brody did with her right now. Bri found she wanted the carnal desire she'd seen in the alley that night. She wanted Brody to have what he would have with any other woman. The idea of him being with another woman made her teeth extend, but she pushed it away and told herself not to think of such things. It would only serve to ruin this time with Brody. Time she wanted to savor every minute of.  * * * *  With all the strength and resolve he had, Brody held on to his control to keep from surging forward and plunging into Bri's wet core. Her warmth gloved him; the feeling threatened to drive him over the edge. He didn't want to hurt her, and knowing this to be her first time, he wanted it to be special. He wanted to show her the pleasure in the joining of a man and a woman. His male ego puffed out its chest at the knowledge of being her first. It also demanded he be the only man to pleasure her. Slowly, he slid himself deeper until he felt the barrier. "Bri, you alright? Want me to stop?" A beautiful smile and a shake of her head answered him. Descending upon her lips for another passionate kiss, he pushed forward, capturing a small noise in his mouth. She tensed beneath him and Brody kept himself perfectly still. When her body relaxed again, he started to move once more, ever so slowly, building a rhythm to bring them both to ecstasy.  * * * *  Bri felt the pain of losing her maidenhead and could smell her own blood. The pain was momentary, and eclipsed by the taste and feel of his lips and tongue sweeping over hers. As he moved to trail nips and kisses on her earlobe, she turned her face into his neck, returning the sensation. His pulse beat hard against her lips. Bri swiped her tongue over the spot, hearing the pounding loudly in her ears. Her fangs throbbed and elongated once more. Unable to stop herself, she scraped them over the warm flesh. Her body screamed to sink her teeth into the spot calling to her, but her mind resisted. Though she craved the chance to taste his blood, knowing it would be sweet and intoxicating, she wouldn't; it would ruin everything. He would know what she was and despise her. To keep herself from taking from him, Bri bit down on her lip, tasting her own blood in her mouth. Brody's movements became faster as he pushed deeper inside. Bri brought up her legs and encircled his back, locking her heels together. Wanting more of him, she opened herself to him for the taking. A feeling like no other started from her toes. It built in intensity as it traveled up through her body. Currents of electricity soared in her veins. Breath rushed in and out of her lungs. Sounds slipped from her throat and mouth that she could not stop. Suddenly, an incredible wave rushed over her, sweeping her out of her body. Air whooshed out her lungs on a cry that echoed in her ears. The sensations raised her up. When she floated down, she found herself quickly launched into the clouds once more. She felt Brody tense above her, and with one last surge forward, he reared back his head and let out a loud growl. Warmth filled her as he shuddered and moaned. After his shudders slowed, Brody shifted and collapsed beside her, then pulled her close to him. She noticed he breathed as hard as she did. What Brody had given her was the most extraordinary experience, to which nothing could compare, she thought with pure elation. "You alright?" Brody asked softly, his fingers trailing up and down her arm. "Yes," she whispered as she scooted closer. Resting her head beneath his chin, she allowed the beating of his heart to lull her to sleep.  * * * *  Daylight had come too quickly, Brody thought as he dressed and walked to the window of the hotel room. They had made love twice last night, the second time being just as amazing as the first. Brody pulled back the thick curtain and looked out at the street. Town folk were already milling about. He knew his men would also be up and waiting for him. There was still a long ways to go on the trail to get the longhorns to the railroad. He glanced over his shoulder at the beautiful woman lying on the bed, her face peaceful as she slept. She looked like an angel; his angel. Stop it. Brody scowled at himself. She was not his. If he asked her to ride along with him to Kansas she would think he was plumb loco. Another thought struck him. She could ride to his ranch and wait for him. Who did he trust well enough to take her? Frank. Frank was his most trusted friend and mentor. Would she agree to go? As Brody's mind swirled with questions and doubts, he shifted from his spot in front of the window, not noticing the stream of light that spilled into the room. A loud cry had him whirling around. "What the hell?" he cursed aloud. Staring at Bri cowering in the corner of the room, his mind tried to determine what had just happened. One moment she had been asleep, and the next she had flown across the room. Now, she sat on the floor, trembling and cradling her arm to her chest. Crouching in front of her, Brody gently eased her arm away from her body. Seeing the circular burn mark on her flesh had him sucking in a breath. Brody turned his attention to the window. It took only a moment to deduce what had occurred. Bri had told him she had an affliction to sunlight, but he'd had no idea the situation to be this serious. Brody damned himself for being so careless. He had let the sunlight in and now she was suffering. Though the burned area was small, he figured it still hurt like hell. His mind raced to come up with an idea of what to do, then recalled noticing a drugstore only a few buildings from the hotel. Just as he moved to stand and retrieve the basin of cool water to soak the burn while he hightailed it to the store, he caught sight of something that made his heart stop. When Bri opened her mouth to speak, what he'd thought to have been his imagination at dinner last night was now in plain sight. White tips of sharp fangs appeared. When her mouth opened wider, they grew longer. The image of her and the wildcat on the trail the other night flashed through his mind. He realized the feral sounds she had made, and the show of sharp teeth, had indeed happened. Brody's feet moved of their own volition, causing him to stand quickly and leap away from her. "What are you?" The words were the only thing that came to mind. He blurted them out without hesitation or thought.  * * * *  Bri dreamed she was held in the arms of the most handsome man she had ever seen. Strong arms enveloped her, protected her. She had never felt so loved and cherished in all her life. While in her dream, heat touched her arm. It quickly turned into a searing burn. The pain stole her breath. When she opened her eyes, she saw sunlight shining upon her and smelled the burning of the flesh on her arm. With a loud hiss and an anguished cry, she leapt from the bed and landed hard on the floor before scrambling to the safety of the shadowed corner. Her arm smoldered as she held it close to her body. Throbbing pain made her dizzy. "What the hell?" She heard Brody's curse as he moved from the window and rushed to her side. When he'd vacated the window the curtain fell back into place, leaving the room dim once again. Though she tried to keep her arm from him, Brody grasped it in his hand and would not release it while he surveyed the burn. Bri saw the expression of confusion on his face as he turned her arm one way, then the other before glancing at the window. "I'm right sorry, Bri. You'd said you had an affliction to the sun. Is this what happens?" Bri started to answer, but when she opened her mouth to speak, Brody's face changed from concern to utter shock. Through the pain in her arm, she hadn't realized her fangs had elongated from the trauma. To her horror, Brody had seen them. Chest tightening, she couldn't breathe. The moment she feared had come to pass. Brody now knew she was different. "I . . . I am a vampire." Brody was on his feet before Bri could blink. The narrowing of his eyes felt like a knife to her heart. It was evident Brody knew what a vampire was, and he obviously did not hold good feelings about the race. He no doubt had heard the myths and ugly stories humans whisper to one another and tell their young, she thought grimly. She watched him raise his hand and touch the side of his neck where she had scraped her fangs last night while fighting the urge to taste him. "I wasn't going to bite you. I would never hurt anyone -- especially you." The unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes seared her to the core. He didn't believe her. She had never taken from a human and never would, that is unless she found her mate, her love, and he was willing. Without a word Brody turned and stalked to the table beside the bed. He picked up his guns and shoved them into his gun belt, placed his Stetson on his head, and headed for the door. It closed behind him with a soft click. Bri couldn't move. She sat on the floor in shock at what had just happened. Only a few moments ago she had been deep in dreams of happiness. Now, she was alone. Brody had left and would most likely not be coming back. Tears burned her eyes, then escaped through her lashes to slide down her cheeks. Her short bout of happiness had ended much sooner than she expected. She had known it would come to an end when Brody returned to the trail, but she never dreamed it would end this way. Deep down she had held on to the hope Brody would care for her enough to want her to stay with him. She had told herself to buck up and endure the trail -- the only way she could be with him. That dream now shattered; Bri rose from the floor and returned to the bed where she lay on the mattress and cried herself into an exhausted sleep. He surely would not want her anywhere near him now he knew what she was.   * * * *  Brody stepped out onto the muddy street. Last night's storm had soaked the ground, creating puddles and mushy soil. Vampire . Bri's revelation had stunned him. It had been shocking enough to see those fangs, but to hear her say it aloud had been like a punch in the gut. His mind had screamed in denial, and his lungs had scrambled for air. To keep himself right in the head, he'd grabbed his guns and left. Checking the location of the sun in the horizon, Brody knew it to be time to return to camp and ready his men to hit the trail once again. Turning his face up to the window of the room he'd shared with Bri, his stomach knotted. He was about to leave her alone in this town. Wasn't that the plan all along? Yes, it was, he told himself. They both knew he would be leaving Fort Worth, and she would wait here for word to reach her pa's partner. Brody decided the least he could do was leave money to keep her housed and fed until that person arrived. Brody headed for the Livery to retrieve his horse as well as the one Bri had ridden to town. He figured she wouldn't need the mount, telling himself her pa's partner would no doubt retrieve her by stagecoach. As Brody rode out of town he attempted to soothe the chaotic emotions in his head with the promise to send Trace to the hotel with Bri's belongings and money to hold her over until someone fetched her.  * * * *  The sun lowered in the western sky. Brody had not returned and Bri knew she had to leave the hotel; she didn't have any money for another night's stay. Walking to the wash basin resting below the windowsill, she lifted the rag and dipped it in the cool water, then pressed it to her face, washing away the trails of the tears she'd cried until she fell asleep. Her heart heavy, it felt as though it was slowly breaking into more pieces than could be counted. Brody wasn't coming back. Her head and her heart knew that. She was alone once again. The last two days had been heaven, Bri thought, trying to hold back tears that wanted to begin once again. Being around others had made her feel like a human being. Even though she wasn't exactly human, she was a person -- a person who needed to be among others. But Bri knew it to be impossible. This morning had been proof enough of that. Realization came crashing down on her. She had to return to the life she had lived for the past couple of weeks; surviving the best way she knew how. Another pair of men's clothing had to be procured and another beautiful dress left behind. Bri pulled aside the heavy curtain and surveyed the street below, knowing it was hopeless. Brody wasn't out there, but she knew her brother was . . . somewhere. She had to get out of town before Trevor found her. Turning away from the window, Bri went to the chair on which lay her chemise and dress. A few moments later she was dressed and ready to leave. As she stood in the doorway, she gazed around the room. Images of Brody making love to her last night flashed through her mind. Closing the door, she shut the memory out just as firmly. Bri descended the stairs quietly, hoping no one sat behind the desk or in the lobby. She wasn't sure if she had stayed past the allotted time, and was therefore expected to pay another night's stay. Thankfully, no one was present, so she slipped out the door. Very few people occupied the street and walkways in front of the buildings. The last of the sun's light was fading, sending everything deeper into shadows, just like her heart. "Well, well." The voice she heard behind her made her freeze. Trevor. Steeling herself and gathering her courage, she turned and regarded him. "Trevor. What are you doing here? I assumed you to be halfway to New York by now." Trevor's smile was anything but friendly. He took a step forward. Bri fought the urge to retreat. She warned herself not to cower before him. "What do you want?" "What do I want?" His tone was sharp, and his eyes blazed as he stared at her. "I want to get out of this filthy place and return to New York. That is what I want. And you, my dear sister, are going to help me." "Me? How can I help you? You took the wagon and all we had. Have you spent all of our money as well?" Bri tried to keep her voice low and not draw attention to their conversation, but the deeds her brother had done fueled the rage she felt inside. "Why would I do anything for you? You left me to die!" Bri wanted to do something totally ugly and very unbecoming, such as spit on him. This man was not her brother, she no longer knew who he was, nor did she care. Turning away, Bri thought to head to the Livery, hoping Brody had left the horse on which she rode into town last night. Her back now to Trevor, Bri was grabbed roughly from behind. A hand came down hard over her mouth. She fought as Trevor pulled her backwards. Pain suddenly exploded in her head before everything around her went black.   CHAPTER FOURTEEN  "Boss? You want I should load up Miss Brianna's things on ol' Bessy here?" Brody turned to see Lil' Dave standing next to the wagon holding the reins of one of the pack mules. "Nah, I'll do it. You go on and catch up with the others. I'll pack up her things and take them to town, then meet up with y'all at the next stop." Lil' Dave nodded. He handed Brody the reins and climbed aboard the wagon. As it pulled away, Brody looked down at the stack of boxes in front of him. Tangled in confusion and mixed emotions, he felt he was about to crack. Images of Bri clouded his mind, and he couldn't get passed them. The word vampire rang in his ears over and over. But what did it mean? Opening the largest chest, he told himself not to think of the fancy gowns inside and how beautiful Bri had looked at dinner. Pushing the gowns aside, he picked up a smaller chest with the intention of placing it inside in order to limit the number of items he needed to secure on the burrow. The lock on the box sprang open and its contents spilled onto the ground. Jewelry and trinkets lay in the dirt. With a muttered curse, Brody went down on one knee to retrieve the items and return them to the box. Lifting a small hairclip with pearls set in an intricate weave, he paused and closed his eyes. The memory of how his hands removed Bri's clips last night, and how her hair looked as it splayed over her shoulders sifted through his mind no matter how hard he tried to block it. Brody could almost smell her rose petal soap, and he groaned. What was he doing? What did it matter if she was a vampire? Bri was still a woman; a beautiful woman who had captured his heart. Something he could no longer deny. Was he going to just walk away without giving them a chance? He knew their relationship wouldn't be easy. With her affliction to the sun he would have to work out time for them, but they would still be together. Dropping the last of the fallen items into the box, Brody quickly stacked them and secured them on Bessy's back. Swinging himself up in his saddle, he led the burrow back to Fort Worth. He prayed Bri would still be there. When he left her it was daylight. He knew she could not have left the hotel then. But now the sun was setting. Upset, she may well have left town on her own. Bri had said she would notify one of her pa's partners, but something told him she had no one to notify. Brody muttered a few choice curse words at himself and spurred his horse to quicken their pace. He had been no better than Bri's brother by leaving her alone. He had turned his back on her and walked away, leaving her to her own defenses just as Trevor had done. Brody entered town and headed straight for the hotel. Jumping from his saddle, he barely took the time to tether his mount and the burrow. Once inside the hotel, he took the stairs two at a time, making a beeline for the room they had shared last night. The door was open and the room was empty. Bri was gone. Brody turned on his heels and took the stairs back to the lobby. The young man who checked them in last night entered the lobby with a newspaper in his hand. The man made his way to the desk and sat the paper on top. "Where's the woman from room four?" The young man looked up from his paper and frowned. "I can't rightly say. About an hour ago I went to check to see if she needed another night. The room was empty." The man shrugged and returned to reading. "Shit!" Brody spat and headed out the door. Stopping on the steps of the hotel's porch, he searched in every direction, hoping to catch sight of Bri. "Problem, Boss?" A voice caught his attention. Brody turned to find Branson standing in the alleyway between the hotel and the next building. "Figured you'd quit, Branson, since you didn't show at camp this mornin'." Branson laughed loudly. He bent and spit tobacco juice on the ground. A small amount of brown liquid dribbled down his chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand. The sight disgusted Brody. "Yeah. I reckon' you could say that. Found me 'nother prospect." Branson gave a sly smile, showing his rotten teeth. "Pays good, too." "I ain't got time for jawin', Branson." With that, Brody turned and started to walk away. "Lookin' for the lil' lady?" The question made Brody stop in his tracks. Something about Branson's tone didn't sit right. His stomach knotted as he turned back to the man. "Where's Bri?" Branson laughed again then sent another spray of spittle to the ground. "I'm right sure the lil' lady's alright. 'Sides, her brudder . . ." Brody lunged forward at the mention of Bri's brother only to stop short at the barrel of Branson's gun. "Now, you jest back it on up a few paces there, Boss." Brody held up his hands and took two steps back. "Where is she, Branson? What's her brother done with her?" Brody's chest was tight, not only with seething anger at the scum standing before him, grinning like a weasel in the chicken coup, but also with concern over Bri's safety. Her brother had left her for dead, so what did he want with her now? "You see, Boss Man, my new job is to take that there lil' woman and her brudder back to New Yahk, but 'fore I do, I'm spos' to take care of you." Branson waved the gun to the side, indicating he wanted Brody to walk deeper into the alley. Brody knew at the moment he could only do as Branson instructed. Brody skirted Branson and headed in the direction Branson indicated. As he slowly walked forward a faint whistle told him he wasn't alone. From behind Brody a loud grunt had him turning to find Trace standing over Branson, who was out cold. Trace smiled at Brody with an amused twinkle in his eye. Brody removed his hat and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. "Damn, Trace. Perfect timin' as always. Why did you leave the trail?" Trace shrugged. "Father said go to town. Meet Brody." Brody shook his head. "That pa of yours is one strange sum' buck."  * * * *  Bri did not know her brother's intentions. He had been quiet along the ride to wherever he planned to take her. She had awakened in the bed of a wagon with her hands bound, her mouth gagged, and her eyes blindfolded. The ride seemed to take hours, or maybe her fear made it seem so long, she thought. The wagon slowed, then stopped. Bri felt it shake, indicating Trevor had left the seat. Hands suddenly gripped her shoulders in a bruising hold. The surprise made her cry out in alarm behind the gag in her mouth. When the blindfold was ripped from her eyes, she felt the sting of strands of hair being pulled from her scalp and winced. Bri had to blink her eyes into focus. "Little sister, how do you like my humble abode?" Trevor asked, while turning in a circle, his hands out to encompass the rundown shack. After one complete turn, his cold eyes focused on her. "This is what I have had to endure, thanks to you and father." The tone he used when he had uttered the word "father" was not lost on Bri. She heard it loud and clear. But, it didn't surprise her. Trevor's hatred of Roland had been building for years before it erupted, and he had done what he obviously had thought of doing for quite some time. Bri wanted to scream at him. She wanted to ask why he brought her here, but the thick piece of leather shoved into her mouth, and the tight strap around her head to keep it in place, kept her from uttering a single coherent word. To keep her from biting through he had forced her fangs, which instinctively elongated from fear and anger, to protrude over the top of the leather. She had to continuously fight down nausea from the foul taste of the leather; its sharp tang and filth permeated her taste buds. He mercilessly pulled her forward and into the shack, then slammed what remained of the door behind him. Sitting on the dirty, dusty floor, she watched Trevor's every move, anticipating a strike at any time. He had become utterly cruel even before he killed their father. She knew he was downright insane -- mad beyond reason. She also knew the fact she was his sister would not save her from harm. Eying Trevor as he ranted and talked animatedly to himself while pacing the floor, her mind reeled from the situation. Her chaotic thoughts kept her from understanding most of what he was saying. Bri used Trevor's distraction to slowly work her bonds. Trevor had never been good at manly skills, such as how to properly tie a knot. He thought himself too high of stature to care about such things. That, she thought to herself, would be his first mistake. Suddenly, Trevor stopped, and Bri's heart stopped as well. She prayed he had not noticed her fidgeting. Cocking his head to the side as if listening, a smile crossed his face. The sight of it caused a shiver to run through her body as if ice water had coursed through her veins. Trevor turned to her. "Ah, your human pet has arrived, and it seems he brought a guest." Shaking his head in mock disgust, he said, "Seems my new guide has failed." Trevor released a rather audible feigned sigh. "No matter." Tapping his finger to his chin as if in contemplation, he laughed softly. "Hmm. I can't decide whether to let you watch him die and then use the man with him to return me to New York, or have your little pet guide me in return for your life. Perhaps I'll take the other human along for a snack on the long journey." Bri's eyes widened in shock. Her brother was truly mad. Panic rose in her chest, and she couldn't calm the frantic beating of her heart. Brody. He had come for her, risking his life to save hers. She couldn't let Trevor hurt him, her mind screamed. Watching her brother kill the man with whom she had fallen in love would be more than she could bear. She continued to slowly work her bonds as she searched the room for something, anything, to use as a weapon against her brother. Movement from Trevor caught her attention. Bri returned her focus to him and found him approaching. She tensed. A glint of metal shone at his side moments before Trevor held up an object. In horror, she recognized the item from books on humans and medical treatments used by their physicians. This one in particular she knew to be one used on teeth.  * * * *  Brody dismounted his horse and eyed the rundown ranch house sitting several hundred yards in front of him. The wind kicked up, causing dirt from the barren ground to whirl like miniature tornadoes. Before he and Trace had left town they'd hauled Branson off to the pokey for his part in Bri's kidnapping, as well as the attempt on Brody's life. After some not so gentle persuading, they managed to get the man to flap his gums. Branson had said he was to meet up with Bri's brother at the shack. It had only taken a moment for Brody to recall this place, but it had taken the entire night to get here. Trevor had had a head start. Brody prayed he wasn't too late to save Bri. "Wagon beside home," Trace said in clipped English. Brody glanced at the Indian shielding his eyes from the morning sun, then turned to look at the wooden structure which lay ahead. Facing the rear of the shack as they were, the front door was not in their line of sight. Brody leaned forward, his eyes straining to focus on the building in the distance. "Can you see anyone?" Brody knew his eyesight wasn't as keen as Trace's. Both Frank and Trace had special skills and right now, he was thankful to have his friend's son along. Trace shook his head. Brody couldn't tamp down the anger boiling inside at Bri's abduction. "The horses are still hooked to the wagon, so someone's got to be there. If Trevor . . ." Trace laid a hand on his shoulder and pointed to the sky. "We go now. Not wait till night." Brody frowned as he wondered why Trace would want to approach the house in full daylight. Normally, a body would wait for the cover of darkness and the power of surprise. Trace gave him a look that said trust me and raised a fist to his chest. Understanding his friend held complete confidence in his plan, he followed Trace as the Indian mounted his horse and slowly approached the shack. With every step Brody prayed his friend knew exactly what he was doing, and that if Trevor had hired guns with him they weren't lying in wait for an ambush.  * * * *  Bri blinked rapidly as Trevor stepped into her line of vision, a broad smile spread across his face. His hands, as well as the metal instrument he held, were covered in blood: her blood. Warm liquid filled her mouth and slid down her throat. She tried to swallow to keep up with the flow so she didn't choke, but it was too much. She leaned forward to let the blood seep under and around the gag to run down her chin, neck, and over the front of her dress. She couldn't believe her brother had yanked her fangs from her mouth, a slow death sentence for a vampire. She would no longer be able to pierce the thick hide, skin, and muscle of the cattle and other animals she had planned to feed from while hiding out on the land. Lacking fangs she would slowly die of starvation, or worse -- go mad and be forced to kill to get what she needed. Tears covered her lashes and streamed down her face. Bri had never wanted to believe her brother to be evil. Her heart had always held out hope he would see the error of his ways. Memories of them playing together as children flooded her mind, making her tears fall even more. "Oh, come now, Sis," he said in a mocking tone. "I figured this way you will not be able to cause me any trouble during our journey. If you do decide to make our travel difficult, I won't kill you outright, I'll just leave you in a more desolate place than I left you before. Believe me when I tell you, this time you won't survive." His next words echoed in her ears. "Then again, your human may no longer want what he sees." Trevor held up the instrument. He worked his hand causing it to make a clicking sound as the pointed ends engaged then retracted to emphasize his point. Bri's heart sank. Trevor was probably right. Her beautiful smile now held two empty spaces. She would never be able to smile again. Surely, Brody would not want to look upon her now. Trevor turned away from her and listened again. "Ah, they're not too far away now." Bri felt her strength wane, though the blood from her gums had finally slowed to a trickle. With the gag so tight she was unable to slide her tongue over the two holes to stop the bleeding completely. Thoughts of Brody stayed in her mind and in her heart. He didn't deserve to get caught up in this. Trevor was her brother. His actions were her responsibility. Even if it meant her own death, she had to do something. At least it wouldn't be in vain, she told herself. Trevor headed for the door. He kept his body to the side, well away from the beams of light shining through cracks in the wood. Gathering all her strength and using the hurt and anger at her brother's actions to spur her on, Bri yanked her hands free of their loosened bonds, sprung from the floor and flew at Trevor, shoving him forward with such force the door splintered into several pieces as he sailed through it, and into the sunlight. Trevor whirled around and flailed his arms about as he howled in pain. Smoke and the acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air. This was the last Bri knew as she pushed herself away from the door, and then fell to the floor where darkness sucked her into its depths.  * * * *  Sounds reached Brody's ears: screams of pure agony. Panic hit him square in the chest. "Bri!" he yelled, spurring his horse at a dead run towards the shack. At this point, he didn't care who was inside. His only thoughts were of Bri. Yanking the reins of his mount and bringing the horse to a sudden stop, he leapt from the saddle, not bothering to tether the animal and not paying attention to Trace on his heels. Skirting to the front of the shack, the first thing Brody noticed was that the entrance to the shack lacked a door, and pieces of wood lay scattered about in the dirt. His heart pounded in his ears. He shook from the inside out from fear of what he would find inside. Gun held out in front of him, Brody stepped over several pieces of the door and braced himself at the side of the doorway. Easing forward, he peered inside. The sunlight illuminated particles of dirt and dust, floating in the air from where they had obviously been disturbed by the exploding door. Through the curtain of dust, Brody scanned the inside before catching sight of Bri laying face down on the floor. "Bri!" Rushing inside, Brody sank to the floor beside her. He turned her over to lie on her back. Brody sucked in a breath when he discovered the front of her dress drenched in blood. Blood also smeared her face and hair. Brody quickly removed the crude gag covering her mouth. "Oh, dear Lord, Bri." With a gentle hand, he patted her cheeks while calling her name, trying to get her to open her eyes. Lifting her top lip, Brody searched for the source of the blood, praying her brother had not done something so heinous as to cut out her tongue. He'd heard tales of raiding Indians who had done that very thing to settlers and travelers unfortunate enough to cross their path. Seeing the pink of her tongue gave him a moment of relief until he noticed the hole in her gums where one of her teeth had been. Leaning to the other side, he found the same there. Her brother had obviously pulled her teeth, but why? "She will die." Trace's words sliced through Brody like a knife. Stunned, he stiffened and looked at the brave. "What?" "She will die." Trace repeated his words in the same flat, no-nonsense tone the brave used the first time. Brody's panic grew even more, and so did his rage at Trevor for what her brother had done to her. Now, it was directed at Trace for his quick dismissal. No. "She won't!" His mind forced his denial through his mouth. It came out hoarse and sharp. Trace spoke again. "She cannot feed." Brody watched him crook his fingers in the sign of a snake's fangs. Vampire. Brody understood now what his friend was trying to tell him, and he knew in his heart the possibility existed. Bri was a vampire. Her fangs, the lifeline for her species, were gone. Taken from her by her sick-minded brother. Without someone to take care of her, she would not survive. Trace sighed long and loud, though Brody noticed the brave's eyes had softened as he shook his head. "I look for him." With that, the Indian walked out the door. Brody's heart felt as though it slowly broke apart piece by piece. The unthinkable had happened; he'd found a woman who had touched him deeply -- physically and within his soul as well. Even though she wasn't human, Brody found being around Bri felt so right. He only now realized affliction or vampire didn't matter as long as he didn't lose her. With an arm under her shoulders and one under her knees, he lifted her close to his chest, then settled in a dark, cool corner, keeping her as far from the rays of light shining through the broken doorway and cracks in the old wood of the walls as possible. Brody sank to the floor, cradling Bri in his arms. He spoke to her, holding back the tears threatening to fall. The blood on her dress and face tore at his heart. He tried to wipe the drying red liquid from her cheeks, but only caused it to smear. A sudden wave of resolve crashed over him. Brody leaned to the side and pulled his knife from his boot. Gritting his teeth, he sliced deeply into his forearm, not caring about the risk of infection. He knew what needed to be done and didn't think twice about doing it. Propping Bri against his chest, he gently parted her lips and pressed his bleeding arm to her mouth. "Come on, Bri. Don't you leave me." After several minutes of coaxing, his prayers were answered. A warm, wet tongue slid across his arm followed by weak suction against his skin which grew stronger with each passing minute. "That's it, darlin', drink. Everythin's gonna be okay." Brody stroked her hair then kissed the top of her head as she drank from his arm. Her soft hands lifted and held his skin to her mouth while his blood brought life into her body. He could tell it worked by the color seeping back into her pale face. Footsteps scraped outside the door. In one swift move, Brody leveled his gun at the doorway, then quickly lowered it when Trace came into view. "You see anythin'? Is he dead?" Trace shook his head. "Saw no one." Brody returned his focus on Bri, ignoring the disapproving stare he could feel from Trace. Bri's eyelids fluttered once, twice, and then slowly opened. It took a moment before the haze he saw in them disappeared, but in the next heartbeat they sprung wide as plates. She flung his arm away, and her hands flew to her mouth.  * * * *  Bri felt as though in a fog, unable to make out where she was. Cold enveloped her until warmth touched her face and the smell of sweet blood entered her nostrils. Without thought, her lips opened to taste what was causing her body to stir. Liquid streamed over her tongue. She felt herself alive and wanted more. She savored the taste like a fine wine. Pressing her lips further into the warm skin, her body called out for more until her mind began to register what was happening. The heaviness of her eyelids seemed to ease. Bri forced them open, only to face the horror of what she was doing. Bri shook her head in denial. "No. Oh, sweet Mary, no!" She tried to scramble off of Brody's lap, but he refused to let her go. "Bri. Hush now. It's alright." Brody's voice rolled over her like velvet, but it did not soothe the anguish at the fact she had been feeding from him. Had she attacked him? Bri looked from Brody to Trace before returning her gaze to Brody. No doubt they thought her a monster. Her teeth. Her fangs were gone, leaving empty holes. How hideous she must look. Suddenly, her thoughts turned from horror to panic -- Trevor. Her heart stopped as she glanced around the room before she focused on the doorway behind Trace. "Is he dead?" she asked in barely a whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer. "Don't know. Trace didn't find nothin'," Brody answered just as softly. Bri squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "He has to be dead. I pushed him out into the sun." She felt Brody gather her tight, and she couldn't stop herself from leaning into his chest. "Everythin's gonna be alright, Bri. If he is not dead, he won't get near you ever again. I promise you that." Trace cleared his throat then spoke. "I hunt meat." Bri sensed the Indian's unease at the scene before him, as, without another word the brave was out the door. Bri glanced at Brody's arm where she had been feeding, thankful to find the flow of blood had slowed to a lazy trickle. "Do you need more?" He asked, slowly bringing his arm toward her face. Bri shook her head and gently pushed his arm away. She couldn't believe this was happening. Brody not only placed his life in danger to save her, he offered his blood. "No. I think I'm okay now." She looked at his face, then his eyes. The green depths stared at her, swirling with concern. "You came for me. I thought I had lost you after you found out the truth about me."  * * * *  Brody heard the hitch in her voice and cursed himself for being such a fool. He had no doubt he had hurt her with his rejection at the hotel. In his own defense, he had been caught off-guard, floored by the revelation. But, another thing sent him running scared. From the time he had realized he'd fallen in love with her he'd known he could not have her out of fear he would not be able to take care of her. Her raising had been different than the women who lived in this place. The affliction she'd told him she had with the sun had also meant she needed special care. Now he knew none of those things meant a hill of beans. He had come to that conclusion while packing her belongings. He loved her regardless of who or what she was, and he was not letting her go. "Bri, I'm right sorry for bein' clod-skulled. You ain't lost me, and never will. Come back to the ranch with me. We'll make it work, I promise." He watched the emotions play across her face: fear, doubt. After a moment a light lit in her eyes. She smiled, but kept her mouth closed and nodded. Brody felt a weight lift off his chest. He silently vowed to give everything he had to make this work. Already the wheels in his head turned. He had men to help at the ranch. He would be able to spend time with her during the evening hours, and though he would be rising later in the morning than a working man should, his ranch -- the one his father had worked so hard to build and maintain -- would not suffer.   EPILOGUE  Trace dismounted and tethered his horse to the post outside of the Post Office in Fort Worth, Texas. His legs ached from the long ride. He and his father, Frank, were returning from Kansas where they had delivered the longhorns to the white man. Before they left he'd watched them push the beasts into corrals on the iron horse. Stretching his tired legs, he took a look around town. He knew it would not be long before the iron horse arrived here, too. The earth was changing at the hands of the white man. Not all of it good, he thought grimly. He waited as his father stepped into the building where reading papers came in on fast horses. They were here to get papers for Brody. The thought of his white friend and the man's woman brought a sigh past his lips. Brody had settled at the ranch with Bri. Trace could not rightly say how he felt about the man's mate -- a vampire. At first he had thought her kind something to be feared and kept within one's sight like an enemy. That was until his father had had a talk with him as they'd ridden the trail to Fort Worth, after leaving the longhorns in Kansas. "There are more on this land than man and animal. We may not understand, and many do not believe they live, but they do. They are part of this land and are to be respected. All has a purpose, my son," his father had told him, and he could not help but agree as the man was very wise. All his life he had never known his father to have been wrong on any subject. When he'd voiced the fact her kind lived much longer than a normal man, his father had had answer for that as well. "Out of love he will share his blood with her and in doing so he will gain a gift from her as well. As he does this, the power within her will pass on to him." Trace inwardly smiled and shook his head. Yep. His father had some gift of sight, he mused. Glancing at the sky, Trace sent a silent prayer to the Spirits that one day he, too, would be so wise. Clapping his hands on his pants, dirt and trail dust flew out in every direction. Trace held his breath to keep it from his lungs. When he straightened, he glanced at the store and remembered his need to purchase a wedding gift. Brody and Bri were to join together, or marry as the white man called it, at the ranch when he and Frank returned. Stepping onto the porch of B.C. Evans' Dry Goods, the rumbling of a wagon pulled by a team of horses rang in his ears. He turned and watched a buckboard, driven by a young boy, pull up next to the store. The boy, who Trace thought to be no older than ten or eleven years old leapt from the bench to the ground, then quickly ran to the other side of the wagon to help the woman sitting quietly on the bench. "You be awantin' me to go in wit' ya Miss Parker?" the boy said as he held the woman's arm lightly while escorting her up the single step to the porch. "Thank you kindly, Thomas, but that won't be necessary. I'll only be a moment." The boy released the woman's arm, returned to the wagon and climbed back into the seat of the buckboard. When the woman approached where he stood, Trace took in her face -- radiant and kissed by the sun. Long, blonde hair hung down her back from beneath her bonnet. She was thin, too thin, he told himself. Her pale, yellow dress hung heavily from her shoulders. Trace moved quickly, reaching the door before she did and opening it wide. He stood still, waiting for her to enter the store. Just as she reached the entry to the store, she stopped suddenly. The stick she carried ceased to tap the ground in front of her. "Thank you," she said softly, turning her face in his direction. Framed behind dark brown lashes, sparkling hazel eyes stared straight ahead -- unseeing. "Ma'am," was all Trace found he could muster. The woman walked through the door. Trace noticed she held her head held high as if daring anyone to judge her for her malady. An air of determination and pride surrounded her, so thick he felt it as he entered the store behind her. Remembering where he was and why, Trace went to the pile of socks heaped atop a wooden crate. Worn and threadbare, his had lost their comfort many moons ago. As he inspected each pair for thickness and good making, he heard the woman tell the shop's owner the many things she needed. Unable to stop himself, Trace found his ears hang on every word. Her voice rang in his ears like a song. The music left him unable to concentrate on the socks. Giving up, he grabbed two pair and made his way to the handmade quilts where he picked up an intricately woven design for a wedding gift. He carried his bundle to the counter to give the white man money for what he held in his hands. The woman stood quietly, waiting for her items. As the white man brought them out, Trace recalled what she had asked for and silently checked over each one as if they were his own purchases. It surprised him that not only had he paid close attention to her words to know exactly what she had requested, but he cared enough to make sure she wasn't cheated. He didn't know this woman. Not even her name. Miss Parker. Well, he did know that much, he told himself. After her goods were stacked and readied, the young boy who had driven her into town bounded in and took several packages to the buckboard. "I sure thank you, Mr. Evans," she said with a smile, one Trace found himself wishing he himself to be on the receiving end. As she reached out her hand and handed money to the store owner, the sleeve of her dress slid back. Trace's heart stopped. Two puncture holes. Their angry red marks marred her sand colored skin. Vampire. "Want me to send one of the boys out to help ya unpack these, Miss Parker?" The woman shook her head. "No. I've taken in a guest. He's not from these parts, but he's no trouble. He and Thomas will help me put my things away." As the woman left the store, following behind the young boy carrying the last of her packages, unease seeped into Trace, making his stomach churn. He had a bad feeling about the woman's guest, and his mind screamed the name: Trevor.    About the Author  D. McEntire calls southern Indiana home and relishes life in the peace of the country along with her husband and two children, not to mention the menagerie of animals on their small farm. To learn more about D. McEntire please visit www.dmcentire.com. Send an email to Diane at [e-mail].    Table of Contents Start Table of Contents Start