Mallory Rush - [Outlawsand Heroes 02] (21 page)

"Because I've decided to tackle my fears instead of holding us back. One at a time—Rome wasn't conquered in a day. First things first, I'm going to introduce you to my competition and try not to throw a pitcher of beer at them or anyone else who asks you to dance."

"A woman ask a man to dance? How odd."

"Get used to the idea. They'll be asking, Noble." She got up, switched on the clock radio to a soft-rock station. "I'm first in line." Quickly, she took off her jeans, her top, and held out her hand.

"Dance with me? Dance with me naked in broad daylight. And once we're done, how about a dance between the sheets?"

Their discarded clothes piled in a heap, they danced their first dance.

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers they weren't, Lori decided. She stepped on his toes. He clenched her waist too tightly and grumbled, "quit trying to lead. I'll do the leading. Follow me."

As it was with most everything else in their relationship, after their share of missteps, they managed to be in sync. By the third song, she thought him a smooth and wonderful dancer—though a little overbearing in his leading and overly purposeful in his footwork, as if he had considered each turn and anticipated her reaction before she did.

By the time he dipped her and she clung to his waist for support, Lori was dizzy. Dizzy with delight. Dizzy with the fear she was determined to face the next night. He'd sweep each and every woman there off her feet. And he wouldn't even have to dance with them to do it.

"Let go," Noble whispered. "Let go of me and reach for the sky. No questions, just do as I ask."

She let go, only to gasp as he released her. A moment before her back hit the floor, his palms scooped under her to cushion the blow. And then he laid himself atop her, his chest to her breasts, her toes to his shins.

"What was
that
for?" she demanded.

"It was for you and it was for me. For us. A lesson, if you will, in letting go and trusting me to be there even when you fear I won't."

His full weight upon her, Lori rocked her hips against his. And as she did she knew a fierce want to claim those parts of Noble that remained in the past. She wanted all of him, not just what she had now.

An idea that had been brewing surfaced. "Tomorrow's my off day. Let's go for a drive. To your land. We can pack a lunch, you can show me around, and we'll spend the afternoon there."

Why was he so silent? she wondered. Was he afraid a subdivision had taken the place of his parents' house? Was he afraid to confront his worst memory by going to where it had taken place? Was this why he hadn't asked her to take him there before?

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to go—"

"We'll go." Without a smile, a kiss, he rolled off her and sat. Though he was only a few inches away, something about his posture was remote as he reached for the bedside table. Rather than the box of condoms she had expected, he took a cigar and studied it for a long time before lighting up.

Lori noticed that his hand shook slightly. "What's the matter?" she asked, scooting next to him.

"Nothing," he said shortly. He stared at the smoke rings he set afloat and she felt a terrible sense of desertion.

"That's not true. You never smoke in the bedroom and—why won't you look at me?"

His hesitation wasn't like him at all and she felt he wanted to be alone. It hurt her, this invisible distance he was putting between them.

"Let me be where you are now," she quietly demanded. "Tell me what's bothering you and let me be there for you like you are for me."

He cut his gaze to hers and she was stunned by what she saw. Lori cupped his cheek. "You're afraid of something. What is it, Noble?" she whispered.

After a thoughtful pause, he turned his lips into her palm. "What do I fear? I fear the lack of your love," he said, pulling her tight against him. "Just that. Nothing else."

Chapter 16

The house no longer stood. All that was left was a pile of crumbling bricks, what had once been a chimney. A few charred and splintered beams were scattered about; the house had burned.

With the buzz of a sawmill filling his ears, competing with the roar of the past, Noble felt his heart contract in a tight, painful fist. He had not truly wanted to venture here, knowing he might be greeted with a disaster such as this.

From the looks of it, the place had met its sad end decades ago, surely before Lori was born. Somehow the fire had been contained to the house and surrounding area, where lush green grass now grew. The nearby forest, where he had played under Attu's watchful eye, had been spared by the fire. The once magnificent red cedars and white spruces were now a legion of stumps, gone the way of the sawmill and likely framing thousands of other homes.

He closed his hand around a brick and squeezed what was left of his beloved home. It was late spring, a lovely, gentle time of year. But the chill wind that blew inside him was like winter.

Had Attu been there, he would have walked away, allowing them to tend their silent grief separately. But not Lori, for here she was laying her hand over his own.

"Do you want to be alone?" she asked gently.

Did he? In his past life, he had always withdrawn into himself, nursed his wounds and his black anger in solitude, wanting it that way because those poisons were his and his alone.

"Stay," he said, his voice tight and scratchy, rough. "I wish for you to stay with me, Lori." Her touch eased him. It assuaged his sense of loss, the toxic emotions churning through him.

For a long time they simply stood there together, staring out at the butchered forest, listening to the distant drone of the sawmill while he absorbed the comfort she gave him in their shared silence.

He let the past wash over him and then ebb away. Noble released the brick and threaded his fingers through hers.

"There is nothing for me here," he said with a heavy sigh. He led her toward the car parked on the makeshift road, rutted from lumber trucks that had hauled his childhood playground away. With more force, he said again, "there is nothing for me here. Except you." He lifted her hand for a grateful kiss. "And that is more than I had when last I saw the place. In truth, it's easier to see the house gone than it was when I stole through the woods and spied upon the murdering thief and his wife who resided there as if it were their own."

"Then you came here after you returned from England."

"Once. Just once. That was quite enough." He decided to make her privy to a portion of his plan—but not the means by which he acted upon it. "I vowed that when I next came here, it would be to take possession of what was rightfully mine. All ten thousand acres, along with the home. Since the bastard couldn't live forever"
—and since I would see to it once I had seized back my family's fortune from the bank the bastard owned
—"I determined to purchase the holdings from his widow. She was much younger and had a frivolous nature. I thought it safe to assume she would sell if the price was right."

"Whew, you're talking a lot of loot. Where would you ever come up with that kind of cash?"

He chuckled softly yet watched her carefully as he said with a light tone, "I considered robbing a bank."

Lori flinched. "Sorry, but I can't see the humor in that. Call it one of those sensitive nerves I have."

Her reaction was no surprise, but it troubled him, increased his dread for the inevitable moment when he put his love on the line and hers to the ultimate test.

Quickly rerouting their conversation, he said, "forgive my poor attempt at trivializing what was indeed a serious situation. You're right, it was a lot of money. However, the gold mine was bled dry and the logging business wasn't much of a business yet. And so the land was worth only a pittance of what it must be worth now, even with so much of the forest stripped. Yet it was, and still remains, worth more to me than a king's ransom."

She squeezed his hand, letting him know that she understood, felt the weight of his hope, his loss. This was good, he decided, a step in the right direction. "I had a dream of living on my land, taking a wife and raising children where I had spent the happiest years of my youth," he confessed.

"That's a beautiful dream, Noble. I wish it had come true."

"Even if it had, it would have been lacking." He turned, caught her shoulders. "After all, I wouldn't have had you."

Her reply was a soft, catching sound, more than a sigh, less than the profession he longed to hear.

"So, here we are, back to your chariot of steel," Noble said, sounding more chipper, and he hoped less eager than he felt. "Would you care to see the mine where my father struck gold?" He knew she wouldn't venture far inside due to her aversion to closed spaces, but as with many of Lori's confessions that had come back to him, he deemed it strategic to keep this to himself. Too much of the lawyer was in him to reveal all that he knew when such knowledge kept him a step ahead of the judge and jury.

"Check out the mine? Hey, that'd be great! At least, I'd like to see the outside of it." Lori, too, sounded as if she were trying hard to lighten the somber atmosphere of dashed dreams and tremulous hope. "Want to drive?"

"Absolutely." He handed her into the passenger's side and bent down, their mouths hovering, their eyes meeting in anticipation of a kiss slow in coming.

The moment was meant to be savored and this kiss held a significance beyond any they had shared before. Just as he knew it would be, the first, light touch of their lips sealed his past and their yearning to claim a future together. It was a lingering, lushly passionate kiss that ached with emotion and hummed with the swelling tide of dreams.

Lifting his mouth, he told her with his gaze how truly, how very deeply he loved her.

"I know you do, Noble," she whispered aloud to his silent message. She held his face in her hands and glowed. "Be patient with me? Time's on your side, but it's slipping fast from mine."

Returning her smile, he nodded his acceptance. "As any good lawyer knows, timing is everything. So is winning."

* * *

"The Long and Winding Road" was playing on the radio as he pressed the clutch and slipped the transmission into overdrive. His own inner gears were in overdrive as well. The sheer thrill of mastering the powerful machine was eclipsed by a full-throttle rush of anxiety and anticipation.

"Slow down!" Lori yelled over the music while she clung to the door and stomped her foot hard on the floor.

Noble forced himself to let up on the accelerator, and they bumped over the rough dirt road at what felt like a crawl. "Either slow it down or I'm taking the wheel," Lori commanded, and he dropped to a snail's pace of thirty on the speedometer.

"That's better," she gasped out, patting her heart. "Good Lord, what's the big hurry anyway? It's not like you've got a claim and someone's trying to jump it."

He couldn't take his eyes from the jutting formation that finally,
finally
, came into view. "Sorry, Lori," he said with false calm. "What with no stop signs or speed limits to heed, and no worry of getting caught without a license by one of your friends, I suppose I got carried away."

"I guess," she said with a huff. "Just don't get carried away again or I'm taking back the keys."

"Duly noted," he muttered, his attention focused on the mine, which was so close now he could feel it. Lord, but he could even smell the dank air, hear the echo of his footfall bounce against the jagged tunnel walls as he trod the maze to where he had hidden his gold.
His,
dammit. He had not robbed; he'd merely taken back what was his.

Somehow, he would have to make Lori understand that. Surely an easier task than making her understand his taking of lives. Even if time were on his side, his patience was already at its limit. He so wished to be done with it, to tell her right now and hurry inside the mine, which beckoned. At long last there, Noble almost forgot to put the car in park and kill the engine before he leaped out the door.

He approached the mine, forcing himself not to race. And smacked a fist against the barrier of wood and the "Warning Condemned" sign that blocked the entrance.

It took all the willpower he had and then some not to rip the sign off and charge through the wood.