~ ~ ~*~ ~ ~
Wild Angels
By Amiboshi-chan
Chapter two
A side of prime beef sizzled on an iron spit over a glowing pile of coals several yards from the ranch house veranda. A coyote howled somewhere off in the twilight and a mournful answer echoed. The smell of burning wood filled the air. As Chichiri swabbed spicy chili sauce on the beef, some of the thick concoction dribbled onto the embers. Flames shot upward, as they would inside everyone's bellies after a taste of Chichiri's secret sauce.
Missy's heart was beating hard with happiness and excitement. Clinging to the railing, she lingered on the veranda, content to observe the crowd. As the fiddlers broke out into soft song, Cyril and Ellen waltzed for the first time as man and wife.
It was almost painful for Missy to witness so much happiness. The persistent lump she'd been choking on all day came again. Fighting back tears of joy, she laughed at Cyril's mock awkwardness when the fiddles abruptly quickened and he was forced to dance a Highland jig.
Nobody could out-celebrate a cowboy, Missy thought fondly. Fast moving boot heels clicked on the wood in quick rhythm. She laughed out loud when Kaen joined in and lifted her skirt slightly to reveal slender ankles and layers of snowy white petticoats, as she executed a series of intricate steps. Missy watched in admiration as her older sister's dark eyes flashed as she picked up the pace, moving with grace while the fiddlers played faster and faster to match her lightening-quick feet.
Then, without warning, the tempo changed. Strains of fiddle blended with the romantic strumming of a Spanish guitar; another waltz for the newlyweds.
Cyril kissed Ellen and pulled her close, and they began to float around the dance floor in a way that made Missy's heart catch. A part of her hungered to be in the middle of the swirling, twirling couples, but her awkwardness kept her lurking in the shadows at the edge of the Veranda. Ellen had shown Missy how to wear the complicated frippery of a lady, but she still did not know how to be one. So, she merely clapped her hands to the brisk tempo while she watched other girls from nearby ranches being swept onto the dance floor by one handsome cowhand after another. Her only consolation was that she was in no danger of making a fool of herself, hidden alone in the shadows.
"Grab a partner!" Nuriko called out. "Everybody dance! I don't want to see anybody sitting this one out!"
"Boo." Tasuki's voice jarred Missy. "Penny for your thoughts, little lady."
She whirled around to find him standing no more than six inches from her. His black string tie and long tailed coat had been discarded. The white shirt he wore was half unbuttoned, and an errant breeze ruffled the soft cloth against his chest.
"And just when I was finally enjoying a private moment," Missy snapped, pulling her gaze from his torso.
He eyed her with cool detachment and picked a bud from the roses that grew in abundance by the veranda. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were hiding up here away from the dance floor, Miss Brooks." A half- smile curved his lips and his eyes twinkled mischievously in the firelight as he sniffed the blossom.
"I ain't doin' no such thing. What a fool notion." She turned back towards the dancers and started clapping again, but the toe-tapping music had changed. Now everyone was twirling in another slow, seductive waltz. She had been so caught up in her talk with Tasuki that she hadn't even noticed. Her cheeks burned and she brought her palms together awkwardly, not really sure what to do with her hands.
"Care to try?" Tasuki asked, with a chuckle.
"Try what?" Missy knew exactly what he was asking, but she'd sooner take a polecat for a walk then let Tasuki McCarty know she couldn't dance a lick. She looked back at the dance floor, staring determinedly at the laughing couples, trying to ignore the knot that had taken up permanent residence in her middle.
He stepped closer and leaned near her ear. His warm breath carried the faint trace of whiskey—and danger. "Would you care to dance with me?"
Missy whirled to face him once more. She summoned her voice, but her refusal died in the back of her throat when she encountered his charming smile.
The night breeze lifted strands of is silky orange hair. Silver moonlight and the amber glow from the bonfire played on his face, turning his eyes a most unusual shade of green. Missy couldn't describe it, or what looking into his eyes was doing to her insides. It appeared, for one heart- lurching moment, that his eyes glowed with an inner fire.
'Goll-dang, if he isn't the handsomest cuss I've ever seen.'
She swallowed hard. Her heart beat against her ribcage like a gloved fist. "I—uh, that is . . ."
"You can dance, can't you?" One winged brow rose in silent challenge. Then he raised his hand and deftly slipped the rose bloom behind her ear, tucking a thick lock of hair over it.
The heat of a blush raced up her cheeks. Her first inclination was to turn tail and run. She couldn't dance, but she'd gotten to know Mr. Smart- jackass McCarty well enough to know he would require her to prove it. That was a humiliation she would just as soon spare herself, if you please.
"I—I—"She stammered, while visions of public indignity raced through her mind.
The corner of his mouth lifted. "I believe I'll take that as a yes, Miss Brooks." He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close before she had a chance to flee.
Panic welled up in her, but it was soon overwhelmed by the stunning impact of how it felt to have his arm around her. A tiny voice in her head said 'dig in your heels and run while there's still time,' but she didn't listen. She just let him clamp her against his body and pull her off the veranda.
"You know, Miss Brooks—" his grin widened "—Back home I was considered to be quite a good dancer."
"Yeah, well, what do a bunch of Easterners know about anythin'?" She answered defensively, raising her chin a notch higher.
Tasuki laughed, deep and low in his chest. He had to admit that he liked this easy, teasing banter, and that he liked Missy and the tug-of-war that went on between them. It was much more pleasant than getting all tangled up romantically. As he looked down at her sweetly flushed face, and lips that were soft and kissable, he realized this was what he wanted. He wanted to stay in the Territory where he was safe from having to make any permanent commitments and decisions. He was content to stay where he could tease Missy and know that she was always there, day in and day out. She had no suitors hanging around, so he had a clear field. It was the best possible situation for a man who had no desire to settle down.
Missy blinked back her confusion. Tingling heat meandered into her limbs from the spot on her back where Tasuki's hand rested. She was afraid her knees would buckle, afraid she'd get all tangled up in her dress, fearful she would make a fool of herself and sure Tasuki would take an inordinate amount of pleasure in whatever indignity befell her. But to her surprise, he started talking to her in low soothing tones, as if she were a skittish filly he was determined to gentle.
"Put yourself in my hands, little lady. I promise not to step on your toes." His deep voice vibrated through her as he held her tightly against his body. "At least not too often."
His rumbling laughter drew Missy's eyes back to his face. "And what happens if I step on yours?" She managed to ask, as her foot touched the first pine board. "You won't think your little joke is so funny then, will you, Tasuki?"
The mocking grin faded as he replied. "I hope I am tough enough and man enough to take whatever comes of this dance, Missy." He paused to stare at her, unblinking, while her heart hammered in her chest. "Now and in the future."
His words hung before them like a spider's silken web. Then he smiled gently. "Now wipe that frown off your pretty little face and act like you're having fun! Ellen and Cyril will wonder what I'm doing to you if you keep scowling like that!"
Missy swallowed hard. Telling her that she was pretty was just about the nicest thing Tasuki had ever said to her. He had been everywhere, seen everything. How in tarnation could a man like him think a girl who wore chaps and boots was pretty?
For half a moment, Tasuki returned her serious gaze, then he tilted back his head and laughed. Rich, hearty tones of masculine mirth erupted from him. Her belly quivered in reaction to the sound of it.
"Oh, you were teasing. You are always sayin' the dangedest things to me--" She would have said more, but suddenly her feet had wings.
Tasuki twirled her out onto the dance floor. With a sobering chill she realized the flames dancing beneath the side of beef and all the torches surrounding the floor had driven back the night. She might as well have been dancing beneath the noonday sun. Now everyone would see if she stumbled or fell or made an ass of herself. She stared at her feet, trying desperately to avoid stepping on Tasuki's shiny black Justins.
"You needn't look so terrified, Missy." He said softly. "I promise you that I'll never let any harm come to you-never." His words penetrated and lifted her out of her gloom. Her head slowly came up and she shifted her concentration from her feet to his face. Her breath lodged in the space beneath her heart.
'I'll never let any harm come to you—never.'
All her fears flitted away into the night. She forgot about the crowd of people, and the dance steps she didn't know. Her world compressed into the circle of space she occupied within Tasuki's arms. He turned her in a tight circle that brought her bosom up against the wide, muscular expanse of his chest. Each time he executed a new dance step and expertly pulled her along with him, her heart beat a little faster.
Tasuki smiled at her, and she suddenly realized she was well and truly at risk, but not of breaking a leg of even her foolish neck. As she stared into his eyes and her heart thrummed inside her chest, she knew what she risked now, was her heart
She could care an awful lot about Tasuki McCarty-if she let herself.
A slow, lazy smile teased the corners of his mouth. "See, I was telling the truth when I said you were in good hands." As he bent a little nearer and drawled the words into her ear, his breath fanned out over her neck and left a trail of hot chills in its wake. "I spent a good many hours dancing before I left New York, Missy. I know what I'm doing."
The spinning turns and his warm breath on her skin made her as dizzy as if she had been at the bottle of whiskey right along with the menfolk. A thousand new and unfamiliar feelings sizzled through her, and even though she longed for something sharp to say to diffuse the tension of the moment, nothing would come to mind. She was trapped like a rabbit in a snare set by Tasuki himself.
"May I have the next dance with my sister?" Chichiri's smile was full of brotherly affection as he tapped on Tasuki's shoulder. An uncharacteristic blush crept up Missy's smooth cheeks. Putting on a dress had changed more than her outsides, it would seem. Wearing ruffles and petticoats gave her an aura of vulnerability, and attitude of shy unease.
Tasuki released his hold on her waist with some reluctance as he stepped back and allowed Chichiri to sweep Missy into the crowd of dancers. They made a striking contrast—the weathered rancher with pale blue hair, graying slightly at the temples, and his radiant, fresh little sister, fiery at the Territorial sun.
Tasuki shook his head. All this silly sentiment was only a combination of moonlight and whiskey. He was about half drunk and that was what was making him wax poetic, he assured himself. Tomorrow reason would return. In the light of day Missy would be herself; there would be no soft glow of fire, no waltzes, no strange tightening of his gut each time their eyes met unexpectedly. Tomorrow she would be back to normal, and once again he would be fending off her hostility and her barbed words.
It was something to look forward to.
~ ~ ~*~ ~ ~
By Amiboshi-chan
Chapter two
A side of prime beef sizzled on an iron spit over a glowing pile of coals several yards from the ranch house veranda. A coyote howled somewhere off in the twilight and a mournful answer echoed. The smell of burning wood filled the air. As Chichiri swabbed spicy chili sauce on the beef, some of the thick concoction dribbled onto the embers. Flames shot upward, as they would inside everyone's bellies after a taste of Chichiri's secret sauce.
Missy's heart was beating hard with happiness and excitement. Clinging to the railing, she lingered on the veranda, content to observe the crowd. As the fiddlers broke out into soft song, Cyril and Ellen waltzed for the first time as man and wife.
It was almost painful for Missy to witness so much happiness. The persistent lump she'd been choking on all day came again. Fighting back tears of joy, she laughed at Cyril's mock awkwardness when the fiddles abruptly quickened and he was forced to dance a Highland jig.
Nobody could out-celebrate a cowboy, Missy thought fondly. Fast moving boot heels clicked on the wood in quick rhythm. She laughed out loud when Kaen joined in and lifted her skirt slightly to reveal slender ankles and layers of snowy white petticoats, as she executed a series of intricate steps. Missy watched in admiration as her older sister's dark eyes flashed as she picked up the pace, moving with grace while the fiddlers played faster and faster to match her lightening-quick feet.
Then, without warning, the tempo changed. Strains of fiddle blended with the romantic strumming of a Spanish guitar; another waltz for the newlyweds.
Cyril kissed Ellen and pulled her close, and they began to float around the dance floor in a way that made Missy's heart catch. A part of her hungered to be in the middle of the swirling, twirling couples, but her awkwardness kept her lurking in the shadows at the edge of the Veranda. Ellen had shown Missy how to wear the complicated frippery of a lady, but she still did not know how to be one. So, she merely clapped her hands to the brisk tempo while she watched other girls from nearby ranches being swept onto the dance floor by one handsome cowhand after another. Her only consolation was that she was in no danger of making a fool of herself, hidden alone in the shadows.
"Grab a partner!" Nuriko called out. "Everybody dance! I don't want to see anybody sitting this one out!"
"Boo." Tasuki's voice jarred Missy. "Penny for your thoughts, little lady."
She whirled around to find him standing no more than six inches from her. His black string tie and long tailed coat had been discarded. The white shirt he wore was half unbuttoned, and an errant breeze ruffled the soft cloth against his chest.
"And just when I was finally enjoying a private moment," Missy snapped, pulling her gaze from his torso.
He eyed her with cool detachment and picked a bud from the roses that grew in abundance by the veranda. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were hiding up here away from the dance floor, Miss Brooks." A half- smile curved his lips and his eyes twinkled mischievously in the firelight as he sniffed the blossom.
"I ain't doin' no such thing. What a fool notion." She turned back towards the dancers and started clapping again, but the toe-tapping music had changed. Now everyone was twirling in another slow, seductive waltz. She had been so caught up in her talk with Tasuki that she hadn't even noticed. Her cheeks burned and she brought her palms together awkwardly, not really sure what to do with her hands.
"Care to try?" Tasuki asked, with a chuckle.
"Try what?" Missy knew exactly what he was asking, but she'd sooner take a polecat for a walk then let Tasuki McCarty know she couldn't dance a lick. She looked back at the dance floor, staring determinedly at the laughing couples, trying to ignore the knot that had taken up permanent residence in her middle.
He stepped closer and leaned near her ear. His warm breath carried the faint trace of whiskey—and danger. "Would you care to dance with me?"
Missy whirled to face him once more. She summoned her voice, but her refusal died in the back of her throat when she encountered his charming smile.
The night breeze lifted strands of is silky orange hair. Silver moonlight and the amber glow from the bonfire played on his face, turning his eyes a most unusual shade of green. Missy couldn't describe it, or what looking into his eyes was doing to her insides. It appeared, for one heart- lurching moment, that his eyes glowed with an inner fire.
'Goll-dang, if he isn't the handsomest cuss I've ever seen.'
She swallowed hard. Her heart beat against her ribcage like a gloved fist. "I—uh, that is . . ."
"You can dance, can't you?" One winged brow rose in silent challenge. Then he raised his hand and deftly slipped the rose bloom behind her ear, tucking a thick lock of hair over it.
The heat of a blush raced up her cheeks. Her first inclination was to turn tail and run. She couldn't dance, but she'd gotten to know Mr. Smart- jackass McCarty well enough to know he would require her to prove it. That was a humiliation she would just as soon spare herself, if you please.
"I—I—"She stammered, while visions of public indignity raced through her mind.
The corner of his mouth lifted. "I believe I'll take that as a yes, Miss Brooks." He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close before she had a chance to flee.
Panic welled up in her, but it was soon overwhelmed by the stunning impact of how it felt to have his arm around her. A tiny voice in her head said 'dig in your heels and run while there's still time,' but she didn't listen. She just let him clamp her against his body and pull her off the veranda.
"You know, Miss Brooks—" his grin widened "—Back home I was considered to be quite a good dancer."
"Yeah, well, what do a bunch of Easterners know about anythin'?" She answered defensively, raising her chin a notch higher.
Tasuki laughed, deep and low in his chest. He had to admit that he liked this easy, teasing banter, and that he liked Missy and the tug-of-war that went on between them. It was much more pleasant than getting all tangled up romantically. As he looked down at her sweetly flushed face, and lips that were soft and kissable, he realized this was what he wanted. He wanted to stay in the Territory where he was safe from having to make any permanent commitments and decisions. He was content to stay where he could tease Missy and know that she was always there, day in and day out. She had no suitors hanging around, so he had a clear field. It was the best possible situation for a man who had no desire to settle down.
Missy blinked back her confusion. Tingling heat meandered into her limbs from the spot on her back where Tasuki's hand rested. She was afraid her knees would buckle, afraid she'd get all tangled up in her dress, fearful she would make a fool of herself and sure Tasuki would take an inordinate amount of pleasure in whatever indignity befell her. But to her surprise, he started talking to her in low soothing tones, as if she were a skittish filly he was determined to gentle.
"Put yourself in my hands, little lady. I promise not to step on your toes." His deep voice vibrated through her as he held her tightly against his body. "At least not too often."
His rumbling laughter drew Missy's eyes back to his face. "And what happens if I step on yours?" She managed to ask, as her foot touched the first pine board. "You won't think your little joke is so funny then, will you, Tasuki?"
The mocking grin faded as he replied. "I hope I am tough enough and man enough to take whatever comes of this dance, Missy." He paused to stare at her, unblinking, while her heart hammered in her chest. "Now and in the future."
His words hung before them like a spider's silken web. Then he smiled gently. "Now wipe that frown off your pretty little face and act like you're having fun! Ellen and Cyril will wonder what I'm doing to you if you keep scowling like that!"
Missy swallowed hard. Telling her that she was pretty was just about the nicest thing Tasuki had ever said to her. He had been everywhere, seen everything. How in tarnation could a man like him think a girl who wore chaps and boots was pretty?
For half a moment, Tasuki returned her serious gaze, then he tilted back his head and laughed. Rich, hearty tones of masculine mirth erupted from him. Her belly quivered in reaction to the sound of it.
"Oh, you were teasing. You are always sayin' the dangedest things to me--" She would have said more, but suddenly her feet had wings.
Tasuki twirled her out onto the dance floor. With a sobering chill she realized the flames dancing beneath the side of beef and all the torches surrounding the floor had driven back the night. She might as well have been dancing beneath the noonday sun. Now everyone would see if she stumbled or fell or made an ass of herself. She stared at her feet, trying desperately to avoid stepping on Tasuki's shiny black Justins.
"You needn't look so terrified, Missy." He said softly. "I promise you that I'll never let any harm come to you-never." His words penetrated and lifted her out of her gloom. Her head slowly came up and she shifted her concentration from her feet to his face. Her breath lodged in the space beneath her heart.
'I'll never let any harm come to you—never.'
All her fears flitted away into the night. She forgot about the crowd of people, and the dance steps she didn't know. Her world compressed into the circle of space she occupied within Tasuki's arms. He turned her in a tight circle that brought her bosom up against the wide, muscular expanse of his chest. Each time he executed a new dance step and expertly pulled her along with him, her heart beat a little faster.
Tasuki smiled at her, and she suddenly realized she was well and truly at risk, but not of breaking a leg of even her foolish neck. As she stared into his eyes and her heart thrummed inside her chest, she knew what she risked now, was her heart
She could care an awful lot about Tasuki McCarty-if she let herself.
A slow, lazy smile teased the corners of his mouth. "See, I was telling the truth when I said you were in good hands." As he bent a little nearer and drawled the words into her ear, his breath fanned out over her neck and left a trail of hot chills in its wake. "I spent a good many hours dancing before I left New York, Missy. I know what I'm doing."
The spinning turns and his warm breath on her skin made her as dizzy as if she had been at the bottle of whiskey right along with the menfolk. A thousand new and unfamiliar feelings sizzled through her, and even though she longed for something sharp to say to diffuse the tension of the moment, nothing would come to mind. She was trapped like a rabbit in a snare set by Tasuki himself.
"May I have the next dance with my sister?" Chichiri's smile was full of brotherly affection as he tapped on Tasuki's shoulder. An uncharacteristic blush crept up Missy's smooth cheeks. Putting on a dress had changed more than her outsides, it would seem. Wearing ruffles and petticoats gave her an aura of vulnerability, and attitude of shy unease.
Tasuki released his hold on her waist with some reluctance as he stepped back and allowed Chichiri to sweep Missy into the crowd of dancers. They made a striking contrast—the weathered rancher with pale blue hair, graying slightly at the temples, and his radiant, fresh little sister, fiery at the Territorial sun.
Tasuki shook his head. All this silly sentiment was only a combination of moonlight and whiskey. He was about half drunk and that was what was making him wax poetic, he assured himself. Tomorrow reason would return. In the light of day Missy would be herself; there would be no soft glow of fire, no waltzes, no strange tightening of his gut each time their eyes met unexpectedly. Tomorrow she would be back to normal, and once again he would be fending off her hostility and her barbed words.
It was something to look forward to.
~ ~ ~*~ ~ ~