Inside the slot, moonlight was reduced to a pale glimmering over the surface of the water. The horses were better off than the humans, both by reason of four legs and the superior night vision of equines. Even with those advantages, the horses didn't have an easy time of it. Janna, with her greater experience in negotiating the slot, managed not to slip and fall more than twice. Ty fell four times and considered himself fortunate that it wasn't a lot worse.
When they emerged into the valley, humans and animals alike were soaked by a combination of rain, runoff water and sweat.
"That's it, girl," Janna said tiredly, slapping the mare on her muscular haunch. "We're home."
Zebra trotted off into the moonlight, heading for the sweet grass and clover she had discovered on her previous visit. Ty considered hobbling Lucifer, then rejected the idea. Even if the stallion wanted to leave Zebra, Lucifer was too tired to take on the slot again. With a few smooth motions Ty removed the hackamore. When it was off, he rubbed away all the marks the leather had left on the horse's head. Lucifer leaned into the touch, obviously enjoying it.
"Yeah, I know. It doesn't take long to get spoiled, does it?" murmured Ty, thinking of Janna and the night before.
"Tomorrow I'll give you a good rubdown, but right now you need food more than you need petting. Go follow Zebra, son. She knows where all the sweet things are in this place."
After Ty removed his hand, it took a moment for the stallion to realize that he was free. When he did, he snorted, shook his head and limped off after Zebra. Ty looked away just in time to see Janna vanish into the willows that grew alongside the stream.
By the time Ty got to the cliff overhang Janna called home, a small glow of flame was expanding into the darkness. Sitting on her heels next to the fire, Janna fed in fuel from the supply she kept dry in one corner of the overhang. Once the fire took hold she added wet wood from the pile that was stacked beyond the protection of the rock.
Only when water was warming over the fire did Janna turn away and go to the small trunk she had laboriously tugged through the slot three years before, when she had discovered the secret canyon. Most of the trunk was filled with books. A small part of it was taken up with the last of her father's clothes. Only one ragged shirt remained, one pair of Sunday pants, three socks and the moccasins she had traded medicines for last spring.
"I took three shirts from Preacher's store. Do you want one of them?"
The sound of Ty's voice startled Janna. She hadn't realized that he was in camp. But there he was, standing on the other side of the fire, stretching muscles that were tired from carrying the heavy backpack that now rested against the stone cliff. Ty peeled off his hat and slapped it against his thigh, driving water from the hat rim in a fine spray.
"No," Janna said, turning away from Ty again, refusing more than his offer of a shirt.
She unlaced her soggy moccasins and set them aside to dry. With cold hands she worked beneath the poncho, unwinding the cloth that bound her breasts. The motions sent stabbing pains through her bruised arm. She set her teeth and continued. She had suffered worse injuries in the past; she would probably suffer more in the future.
Ty didn't bother to ask if Janna wanted any help, for he knew she would refuse him. Without a word he lifted the cumbersome poncho from Janna's shoulders and threw it aside. The sight of the bruise on her arm made his breath come in with an audible hiss. Even though experience told Ty that the bruise looked much worse than it actually was, he hated seeing the dark shadow of pain on her skin.
"Don't you have something for that?" he asked.
"Yes."
Janna tried to step away. Ty's hands closed around her lower arms in a grip that was gentle but unshakable.
"Hold still, sugar. Let me help you."
Afraid to trust her voice, Janna shook her head in a negative.
"Yes," Ty countered instantly. "You've patched me up often enough. Now it's your turn to be patched."
Janna looked up into Ty's glance. His eyes were very dark yet alive with flames reflected from the campfire. The warmth of his hands on her chilled skin was shocking, but not as shocking as the heat that uncurled in her loins at the thought of being cared for by him. She shivered in a combination of cold and remembered desire.
And she hated it, both the memory and the desire, hated wanting a man whose feelings for her teetered between pity and contempt, lust and indifference.
"You're chilled through and through," Ty said, frowning as he saw Janna shiver violently. With quick motions he began unwrapping the cloth that bound her chest. "Where's the medicine you need?"
She shook her head, refusing him, refusing her memories, refusing everything.
"Janna, what in hell is the matter with you?"
Ty didn't wait for an answer. Janna felt cloth being stripped from her body by his big hands. Suddenly she couldn't bear the thought of her naked breasts being revealed to Ty again. He would touch them, kiss them, and the heat that was spreading from the pit of her stomach would flare up, burning away everything, even the knowledge that she loved a man who loved only his own dream… and she was not that dream.
With an inarticulate cry Janna tried to push away Ty's hands. It was like pushing on warm stone.
"It's too late to be shy," he said flatly, ignoring her attempts to stop him from unwrapping her breasts. "Hold still while I get this wet stuff off you."
"Let go of me."
The quality of Janna's voice was chilling. Ty's hands froze in the act of unwrapping her.
"Janna, what's wrong?"
His voice was gentle but Janna didn't hear that, or the emotions churning just beneath his control. She heard only her own memories, Ty's voice echoing and reechoing in her mind as he listed all her shortcomings a amp;a woman-nothing to offer a husband, too unskilled to be a mistress, good only for the male need that built up inexorably when no other woman was around.
"Little one?" Ty asked, tipping Janna's chin up and brushing a kiss over her lips. They were as cold as her voice had been. "What did I do to make you so angry with me?"
When he would have kissed her again, she jerked her head away. "Don't touch me. I don't feel like being your whore tonight."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ty's tightly held emotions exploded into a fury that was unlike any he had ever felt. He stopped trying to peel off layers of wet cloth and grabbed Janna's shoulders instead.
"Don't say something like that about yourself! Do you hear me, Janna Wayland? You are not a whore!"
Angry, ashamed, defiant, Janna stood shivering within Ty's grasp. "Just what would you call it?"
"We're… lovers."
"I don't think so," she said distinctly. "To be someone's lover suggests a certain affection mixed in with the lust. I'm not your lover. I'm a convenience until you take Lucifer and go off to buy your silk- "
"Don't say it," Ty interrupted savagely. "I'm sick to death of having those words flung in my face."
"Then stop flinging them in mine."
"I've never-"
"The hell you haven't!" Janna interrupted, her voice as savage as his. " 'I'll have my silken lady or I'll have none at all for longer than it takes to pleasure myself,'" Janna quoted, each word clipped. "'You're the least female female I've ever seen.' Then you said that Cascabel looked more like a mesquite bush than I looked like a woman, and the comparisons didn't stop after you had me, either. You