Wild Fire (Book II)

Beyond Prying Eyes

     The forest trail was beautiful in the melting orange and pinks of the fading day. As they rode together currently in silence, Emma leaned into Dutch resting her tired shoulders against his wide chest. He hummed behind her curling a protective arm around her waist, and pulling her warmth into him, absorbing her closeness.

     She took in the world around her. The haunting bend of the pines that lined the grassy path like spiked fingers pointing towards the heavens. Their branches tall and spiney and blocking out the view of where they were going on either side. The forest itself was a symphony of birds and animals, insects and far away voices that traveled on the wind like the ghosted echoes of towns long fallen. The mix of the sounds meshed with the sweet smell of smoke on the fields, lone fires burning warm somewhere in the distance, embracing her with the mix of Dutch's leathery smelling cologne and the musky fur of the horse beneath them. It was truly beautiful wherever they were going, and the closer they got, the rippling song of water braided itself into the melody and eased her troubled senses, lulling her eyes heavy.

     She laid her head back against Dutch's chest turning her ear to his thumping heart as they cantered and closed her weary eyes. Dutch straightened beneath her allowing her subconscious cuddle under his collar.

     A pleased smile pulled at his lips as he tipped his head down at her watching her silky hair bundle against the pleat of his vest. "Are you sleepy my dear?" He whispered just above her head, flicking his eyes from the path to the milk cheek that pudged against his sternum. "Mmm-hmm." she murmured, nuzzling her head against the heat of him. She shivered, the cool air of the engulfing night closing in on her and plucking away at the much-wanted snooze she sought against the outlaws embrace.

     She was so beautiful, he thought, watching her turn in the saddle and place a tiny hand against the red scarf in his pocket. So perfect, so needing. And Dutch wanted to give her everything. He wanted to halt The Count and turn her in his arms and kiss her right then and there. Take her heart shaped face in his hands and cover the drowsy lids of her eyes with his mouth until she felt safe enough to sleep beside him eternally.

     Instead, he reached back with his circling arm and took the curled blanket from the horse's rump and covered her with it, draping it over her and the sides of the steed, then scooped her back up against him so that she was just under his guarding chin. "Sleep sweetheart. We are almost there, I promise, I won't let you fall." he looked down at her again and was met with those half-lidded swirls of cobalt blue and a tired nod. She settled her face against him, sliding her splayed hand just under her jaw, and he felt her breathing begin to slow to a steady whistling whirr.

     She stayed like that, pressed to his ribs until her hand pillow fell limp and her body slumped into him completely vulnerable. Dutch leaned his lips to the crown of her head pressing a kiss to the part in her feathery hair. The honeyed scent of her flowed into his senses forcing his eyes closed against the welcomed perfume.

     He wanted, no, NEEDED to get her to that cabin. He felt that familiar stir below his bulleted belt. That ache for her that had burned since the moment she fell under his care. His breath caught, holding in the longing he felt to run his hands over her creamy skin. Drink in every freckle, every dimple, along her soft luring curves. Even as the thought burned him below, the edge of the cabin's roof came into view. Around them the mixing colors of the sun had given way to the encasing arms of mother night. Stars punctured the sky, forking through the heavens in shimmering pin pricked twinkles. Their beauty matched only by the angel Dutch held in his arms.

     He rode as gently as could, leading the horse to the hitch and halting him with an audible hush. The Count nickered at him defiantly, but Emma still snoozed contently beside him, stirring only closer under the blanket. Dutch let the reins fall, gathering the girl close with one arm and expertly sliding his other under the fall of her thighs. He slid from the horse toting her up right like a miniature bride, stepping cautiously across the yard and up the wooden stairs to the little two room cabin perched beside the still moonlit water.

     Hunkering low, he leaned his shoulder into the door opening it with a muffled creek and shut it back carefully with the toe of his boot. The little cabin opened up into a small kitchen and living area, with a sprinkle of tables, chairs, and a small couch with tiny dressers on either side. At the back of the room was one door leading to a modest bedroom. A double bed, and a single dresser reflected back in a full body mirror that glowed by the window under the gleaming eye of the moon.

     Dutch stepped over to the bed, hovering above its soft blankets a moment holding Emma to him. He searched her slumbering face, tracing her peaceful features with soft chocolate eyes. He didn't want to put her down. The thought of her being away from him panged an emptiness through his chest that rattled to his core and clawed against his throat. He wanted to hold her like that forever. She was a little fragile animal curled within his grasp. Only HE could protect her. Only HE could truly love her the way she needed to be loved. Those rambunctious boys, of his whom he loved so much, could never know the art of loving a woman such as Emma.

     She was a puzzle, fractured and stolen, from where love could actually take a human soul. She didn't know that sort of adoration and feared every thought of having to do so. All because that bastard Clayton had stripped her of the knowledge of a man's gentle touch. She knew no such kindness. Did not, he dared say, even seek it, because of the unfathomable end that may befall her for relinquishing the heavy walls her own body had set up to protect her. But he would break those walls. Tear through each shuddering brick, until the soft intoxicating sounds of her ecstasy played through his ears like music. He had to repeat to himself on a constant not to force it. She needed to want him so badly that the request for him passed her own lips. Patience was a virtue.

     He finally relented, placing wet kisses across her cool brow, before ultimately setting her atop the blanket and sliding his muscled arms from beneath her. He didn't cover her with the blanket though. Instead, he walked back out to The Count gathering their things and once again covered her tiny, curled form with the fur of his dark woolen coat. He wanted her to drown in the scent of him. Wanted it to be the last thing her nose breathed in as she slept, and the first thing that embraced her when she woke.

     He tucked the long garment around her and under her curled legs observing his work as he stood over her eyeing her from head to her snuggly covered toes. Satisfied, he walked back into the den lighting a thick cigar in his fingers and stretched his long legs out to the porch. He leaned there lazily against the post, pianoing his ringed fingers across the stretch of tobacco held closely by his mouth. Dark eyes twinkled along with the heavenly diamonds, as he thought of the things he had in store. It would be a while before he slept yet, but the thought of those gentle commands urging her into his welcoming arms stirred him even further below the smart seams of his pants. He could hardly wait to wake up with her crushed against him. A low hum escaped him at the thought, as he peered over the smooth water. Time. All he needed was sweet, escaping time. Time, and the inevitable unraveling of the wild fire that was to be between them.