Miracle Jones by Nancy Bush

soft.”
    Miracle said unsteadily, “You need to lie back down. I’ll get you some water.”
    But he only pulled her closer, fixing her between his legs and pressing her against him in a way that stole her breath. She could feel that part of him, and it was hard and insistent.
    She squirmed in protest, shocked, which only seemed to agitate him further. His hands slid beneath the curve of her buttocks, and he pulled her up, nearly off her feet, to seek a further intimacy.
    God’s truth, without clothes on he’d be inside her! Miracle choked out indistinguishable sounds. A thrill shot through her. She suddenly wanted to wrap her legs around him and promote this incredible feeling.
    “Stop!” she cried out in fear.
    She thrust her palms against the hot skin of his chest. But his mouth sought hers, melding her lips in a truly demanding kiss. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, moist, insistent and seeking. Miracle made a strangled sound that succeeded in sounding like a moan. She twisted in his arms, fighting to wrench her mouth from his. She succeeded in breaking contact only because he was still weak. Stumbling backward, she held the back of her hand to her now pulsing lips.
    “You’ve got to lie down,” she told him again, from a safe distance away. Her chest heaved as if she’d run ten miles, and her blood surged through her veins.
    He stumbled after her, and Miracle backed toward the camp. The last few feet she turned and fled, running right to the water’s edge. It was unnecessary. Harrison’s knees buckled, and he collapsed with a thud against the dry, hard ground.
    With a cry of fury directed totally at herself, Miracle rushed to his side. Gently she turned him on his back. There was a gash on his chin from a sharp stick. Curse and rot him! He deserved to be hurt. How could he do that to her?
    Muttering, Miracle dabbed at the cut with the remains of her torn petticoat. She tried to move him to the blanket, but it was no use. He was too heavy.
    Snatching up one of the blankets, she curled it into a pillow, then she gently lifted Harrison’s head and laid it on the blanket, shaking out another blanket to spread atop him.
    “…won’t let you, you bastard…” he muttered, flinging an arm out. “…stop… Lexie…”
    Miracle ripped off another strip of petticoat and dipped it in the lake water. When she tried to lay it on his forehead he batted it away with surprising strength.
    “…kill you first…” he bit out savagely.
    Well, at least his thoughts had turned from lust to fury, she thought wryly. Unfolding her own blanket, she spread it on the ground a safe distance away from her troublesome patient. No use tempting fate. Lord, but he was persistent!
    Harrison’s feverish muttering went on as Miracle focused her gaze at the heavens, blocking out his voice. Just the sound of it made her limbs go weak, her brain turn to mush. She couldn’t help thinking about his mouth and chest, and that hard part of him that made her insides quiver.
    Gritting her teeth, she counted the stars. They weren’t as bright tonight. A cloud cover was coming in.
    Harrison moaned. Blast! Miracle clapped her hands to her ears and doused the flames of desire burning through her. She concentrated on a vision of Aunt Emily’s pious and judgmental face. That ought to cure her if nothing else would.
    He murmured something else, reaching outward. “Want you…” he muttered.
    “Hellfire,” Miracle bit out in disgust. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Four

    “How is she?” Lexington Danner asked softly, touching Tremaine’s hand.
    He was staring down at the woman lying inordinately still in the cold blackness of early morning, her skin nearly as white as the starched linen pillow beneath her head. Feeling Lexie’s fingers slide into his, Tremaine turned to her. Her green eyes stared up at him, demanding the truth, hoping for a miracle.
    “It’s diphtheria,” he stated quietly.
    Lexie’s lips trembled and her