That was when it would be safest for Ty and Janna to move, when the much more acute senses of the deer would give warning of other men roaming around in the night. Not that Ty expected to run across any Indians on the move in full darkness, but he had learned that allowing for the unexpected was the best way to survive life's lethal little surprises.
Besides, it was very pleasant to lie in the warm aftermath of day on a thick bed of pine needles and listen to birds settling into cover for the night, calling and singing to one another as though they had a lifetime of information to pass on and only a few minutes until the last golden sunlight faded, bringing with it darkness and night.
It was also pleasant to feel Janna's warm body pressed against his left side.
After a moment's thought, Ty conceded to himself that perhaps pleasant wasn't the right word to describe the combination of sensuous heat and mental torture she had inflicted on him in the past days. He couldn't turn around but she was there, touching him in the most casual ways, never forward or aggressive, just…there. Always. A smile or a fleeting brush of her body over his, a look from gray eyes as clear as springwater, a soft laugh that made his loins tighten. He sensed that she was getting even with him for belittling her feminine allure, but he couldn't prove it. There was always a logical reason for her touches.
And her touches were driving him crazy, sending fire licking over his skin, heat whispering to him, telling him that beneath those flapping clothes was a woman. With each second that passed, the chance of the Indians returning became less likely, and the fragrance of her body became more compelling. He sensed each of her breaths, knew that she felt him as well, and he wanted nothing more than to turn toward her and mold her along the aching length of his body.
Ty kept remembering that single, penetrating kiss he had given to Janna. He could recall the feeling of her body beneath his with a vividness that sent blood rushing hotly, hardening his male flesh until it ached.
But she hadn't enjoyed that kiss. She had taken it as a punishment.
Yet it was Ty who was being punished. He owed Janna his life. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't repay that debt by frightening or hurting her as other men had. The only way he could keep his promise to himself was to keep his hungry hands off her. And his hungry mouth. And most of all, his hungry-
"Ty?" Janna whispered softly.
Her body was shaking. So was her voice. Though she made no more noise than a sigh, Ty heard her. He heard every breath she took, saw every time she licked her lips, tasted her in his memory. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to admire her without touching the easy sway of her hips as she led him along the plateau's secret byways.
"Ty?" she said, a bit more loudly.
"What?" he groaned, wondering how much longer he could lie next to her without grabbing her.
"There's a snake crawling along my leg."
Chapter Twenty
"Don't move."
Ty knew as soon as he whispered the urgent words that his command was unnecessary-Janna knew better than to make a sudden move around a snake. She also must know that all she had to do was lie quietly until the snake slithered off into the late afternoon and she would be all right.
"Can you see the snake?" he whispered.
Janna's answer was more a whimper than a "no."
"Just stay quiet," he repeated. "The snake isn't interested in you and he won't be as long as you don't move."
But Janna couldn't remain still. Tremors of sheer terror were rippling through her. She could face almost anything without losing her head, but not a snake. She remembered all too well the nightmare of awakening to her father's shouts and frantic flailing about as he tried to shake off the rattlesnake that had crawled into his bedroll. He had been bitten on his feet and his calf, his wrist and his cheek.
At the time they had been deep in Indian country, chasing one of her father's dreams of gold. There had been no one to help. None of the herbs or balms or potions her father knew had managed to pull the poison out of his body. Nor had lancing the oozing wounds helped.
She would never forget the endless death throes of the big snake after she had cut off its triangular head with her sheath knife. Nor would she forget the long days of her father's agony and delirium before he finally died.
Without realizing it, Janna began whimpering softly with every shallow breath she took. Ty heard and realized that she wouldn't be able to lie still until the snake moved on in search of its normal evening meal of mice or young rabbit. She was terrified. In the grip of such mindless fear she might scream, and then the snake would be the least of their worries.
"Janna," Ty whispered urgently. "You'll be all right. Just lie still. I'll take care of it. Whatever happens, don't move."
The increasingly violent trembling of Janna's body was her only answer.
Slowly Ty eased onto his right side, lifted himself on his elbow and reached to his waist for his sheath knife. The way he and Janna were lying, he had no choice except to use his left hand, but that fact didn't slow him down. The first thing the elder MacKenzie had taught his boys was that a left-handed knife fighter had an advantage in a brawl, and a two-handed fighter would win every time.
Ty's movements and Janna's trembling had made the snake freeze in place as it tried to decide whether the movement represented food or danger or simply a neutral presence such as the wind. In the dying light the motionless snake blended so well with its surroundings that Ty had a hard time seeing it. When he did, he swore silently.
It was a timber rattlesnake, and it was as thick around as his forearm. There would be enough venom stored up in that big mouth to kill a man, much less a girl the size of Janna.
When nothing came of Janna's quaking movements, the rattler lowered its head and continued on its evening hunt. The snake was so close that Ty could easily make out the flickering tongue and the triangular head darting from side to side with the forward motion of the coils. He could even distinguish the third "eye" that identified the deadly pit viper.
The rattlesnake's body made an odd rubbing-rustling sound as it progressed slowly along the length of Janna's pant leg. Ty watched with the poised patience of a predator, knowing that he had no choice but to wait for an opening. Until the snake's head was drawn away from Janna's body by the sinuous movements of reptilian coils, there was nothing Ty could do that the snake couldn't do quicker- and it would be Janna rather than Ty who suffered from any miscalculation on his part.
Speaking softly and reassuringly to Janna, telling her that there was nothing to fear, Ty waited until the snake's undulating forward motion finally pulled its head to the left, away from Janna's leg. Ty struck swiftly, cleanly, severing the rattlesnake's head from its body. Then he struck again with savage speed, using the knife point to pick up the deadly head and fling it far away from Janna. He grabbed the writhing coils and threw them away, as well. Then he went down beside Janna and pulled her into his arms.
"It's all right, little one," Ty whispered, holding her shaking body. "It's all right. The rattlesnake is dead."
The soothing rumble of Ty's voice and the gentle stroking of his hands over Janna's back calmed her more than his words. Unable to control the trembling of her own body, she clung to him, whispering incoherently about a water hole and a rattlesnake that had struck again and again, and the long days and nights before her father had finally died.
When Ty finally understood what Janna was saying, emotion went through him like a burst of dark lightning. He couldn't bear the thought of Janna alone with her dying father, watching him swell and blacken as the poison slowly destroyed his flesh. It could so easily have been her bedroll the snake had chosen, her tender skin pierced by fangs, her life draining away between labored breaths; and then Ty never would have known Janna, never held her, never breathed kisses over her tear-streaked face.