Rafe's Redemption (15 page)

“Where did you get them?” She reached for the stack.

“I paid the hotel clerk to find paper and some pencils.”

“That’s why you…”

He knew she wouldn’t finish the sentence—she was too kind—but the accusation hung between them all the same. That’s why you left me.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Her hand skimmed his, brushing his raw knuckles, but he pulled away. He didn’t deserve her thanks.

“Let’s go.” He turned, threw the saddle onto Moses and tightened the cinch.

Myrna buckled the bridle, then pointed a finger at Rafe. “I never saw you, hear? The major was snoring in the stall when I opened the barn.”

“Thank you.” Rafe slipped an extra dollar into her hand.

“You make sure and keep your wife close.”

“I will.” Nothing else was going to happen. He’d die before he let another man hurt her.

He swung into the saddle, then settled Maggie in front. Myrna cracked the door open and poked her head outside. A fter looking both ways, she waved Rafe forward.

He wrapped both arms around Maggie and pressed his heels to Moses’ belly. They darted behind the buildings and climbed out of town, disappearing into the trees.

She snuggled against him, and his arms tightened—

along with his heart. He didn’t want to think about what that feeling meant or where the feeling would lead.

The devil was behind him, and he had to ride like hell.

****

Moses covered the last few miles as if he knew the urgency of their trip. The afternoon clouds had opened, and now heavy snow fell like rain, with large flakes that stuck to their coats and trousers. Rafe hated to expose Maggie to another blizzard, but there was no time to stop. When the major woke, he’d be out for blood. If Rafe was caught, Little Owl’s chance for escape would vanish.

A rching his back against the wind, he tugged down his hat and tucked Maggie closer against his body. Her dreamful whimpers tormented him. He fisted the reins until his scabbed knuckles cracked. She shivered. Damn it! How much farther? Rafe stopped and squinted through the flakes.

“A re we there?” Maggie straightened in his arms and glanced over her shoulder.

The purple marks on her cheek boiled his blood and locked his jaw. He should have killed the major. But the thought of one more death on his hands churned his gut.

“Rafe? A re we almost to Cecil’s?”

“Just about.” He pulled her closer, needing to feel her, needing to know she was safe as he legged Moses forward. They sidestepped down a small hill, sliding the last few feet. Maggie gasped, her fingers biting into Rafe’s thigh.

“Easy, sweetheart. We’re fine. Moses won’t fail.” He’s not me. He’s never killed a man or disgraced his family.

Finally the row of pines, bowed with snow, came into view. Rafe guided Moses beneath the limbs and stopped in front of the mine tunnel. The cabin door cracked open and a rifle barrel poked from the slit.

“State your business.” Cecil’s gruff voice sounded miles away.

“It’s McBride.” Rafe jumped from the saddle and lifted Maggie down.

Little Owl’s squeal pierced the night. The door flew open, and she pushed past Cecil to hug Maggie. “I knew you would not leave.” Her dark braids swung in time with her enthusiastic words. “Come in. Hurry. Get warm. You also, McBride.” She tugged them inside. “Sit. I will make coffee.”

Rafe hesitated, anxious to talk to Cecil, unsure of how much to say in front of Little Owl.

“Was the pass already closed?” Cecil leaned the rifle behind the door, his brows raised in question.

“No, we ran into some trouble—”

“Your face!” Little Owl dropped the cup she held and dragged the lantern across the table to peer at Maggie’s jaw. “What happen? McBride not…” She glared over her shoulder.

“No! He’s not that kind of man!” Maggie’s fierce denial surprised him.

“There were soldiers in Lesterville,” Rafe explained.

“A nd you and Cecil have to hide.” Maggie jumped from the table, grabbed a blanket and stuffed it into a crate. “You have to pack. They’re riding this way.” Little Owl paled. “Cecil…” Her eyes filled with tears, and she buried her face into her hands.

“Tell me.” Cecil pulled Rafe aside as Maggie consoled Little Owl. “Is it bad?”

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s worse.”

****

Rafe slid one last rotten post across the opening, closing off the western tunnel from the main shaft. “A ll finished. That should hold them.”

“A re you sure this will fool the soldiers?” Doubt creased Maggie’s brow.

“Would you go into a mine marked ‘poisonous gas’?”

“Well, no. But…” She chewed her lip as she peered between the boards.

“Once Cecil rakes our footprints from the entrance, the mine will appear deserted.” He brushed dirt from his hands and grasped her shoulders. “Trust me. Major Douglas will search the cabin—maybe send a few men inside the mine. But none of them will venture down this far. Those men just survived four years of war. They won’t be anxious to asphyxiate in here.”

“I suppose.” She frowned and bit her bottom lip again until it was as red as a strawberry.

Need rolled through him. He wanted to kiss away the marks she left, caress the worry from her face. Wanted the graze of her teeth on his cock, wanted her mouth to surround the head. He’d love to run her a hot soaking bath, wash her body until she was happy and relaxed.

Then he’d make love to her slowly and show her how proud he was of the decision she’d made to return.

Everything he’d assumed the day they met was wrong.

She was the strongest, most unselfish woman he’d ever known, the kind of woman he’d be proud to call his own.

If only things were different.

Gravel crunched as Cecil squatted on the other side of the boards. “I’ll meet you inside once I cover our prints.”

Rafe nodded, clasped Maggie’s elbow, then wound his way down the tunnel. Rust-covered rail tracks lay dislodged in places and made for treacherous walking.

The small lantern threw long shadows along the crumbling dirt walls as they shuffled along, and the mournful wind howled its way through the mine.

A quarter mile down, the shaft opened into a large cave where they had made camp. A high domed ceiling let the smoke from Little Owl’s cook fire dissipate, hiding any sign of their presence.

Maggie pulled free of Rafe’s hold and walked to the fire. He felt her absence immediately. She knelt beside the flicking flame, the low light darkening the bruises on her pale skin, exaggerating her forlorn expression. Did she regret coming back? Or did the memory of this morning’s attack haunt her?

He moved behind her, aching to hold her close, needing to know she was all right. Needing to know she didn’t hate him. She turned, her sad gaze skated over him, then back to fire.

“Little Owl is already asleep.” She nodded toward a dark area in the back of the cave.

“You need rest, too.” He tilted her chin until he could look into her eyes. “Maggie—”

“Whew! It’s a full-blown blizzard out there.” Cecil strode from another tunnel, brushing snow and ice from his coat. “I replaced the vines and shrubs in front of the secret entrance so we’re safe for tonight.” He looked around. “Where’s Owl?”

“She went to bed.”

“Then that’s where I’m going.” He stopped beside the fire and stuck out his hand to Rafe. “I can’t thank you enough, my friend. A nd you, Maggie.” He reached for her. “I know what you gave up to warn us. Thank you.” Maggie smiled, accepting the awkward hug Cecil gave. The sight of her in another man’s arms, even Cecil’s, triggered a jealous burn in Rafe’s stomach. Damn, when had his feelings gotten so out of hand?

“If you hear anything, wake me.” Cecil checked his rifle.

“I will. Don’t worry.” Rafe would stay awake all night.

Cecil nodded, then extinguished his lantern and tiptoed to Little Owl. Rafe squatted and fed more wood into the fire. Maggie watched, her gaze lost, as if silently asking for something. But what? Hell, he didn’t know a thing about comforting women.

“Why don’t you sleep?” He grabbed two blankets from a crate and spread them beside the fire. “I want you to take both of these so you’ll stay warm.”

“No.”

He sighed. “Maggie, don’t argue tonight.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she swiped them away, then knelt on the blankets and tugged him to his knees.

She looked up at him, pain, fear, need in her watery gaze. His entire body ached to hold her, wrap her in safety and never let her go. But after all that happened, being mauled was probably the last thing she wanted.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Her tears ripped him apart.

He caught one droplet on the end of his finger. “Tell me what to do.”

She swallowed hard. “Hold me. Please. I need you.” His heart skittered to a stop. Relief that she wasn’t angry warred with the desire that her innocent words conjured. A nd the request was just that. Innocent. She couldn’t know the thought of sleeping together stiffened his cock to near bursting. A nd the kind of man she deserved would be able to control himself. Even if it killed him.

If he said no, Maggie was going to fall apart.

A dmitting fear humiliated her, but every shadow looked like the major, every noise sounded like footsteps marching down the tunnel. Rafe was the only one who could make all that go away.

“Of course I’ll hold you.” He stretched out on the thick wool, then pulled her into his arms, smothering the fear, sharing his courage, filling her with his strength.

“You’re safe, sweetheart.” His warms hands stroked her back. “A nything you need, I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

“I—I k-know,” she sobbed. Stupid tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking his shirt. A ll day she had pushed the major from her mind, knowing this would be the result.

“Do you?” he whispered over her hair. “Do you know how bad I feel for letting you get hurt?” He scattered kisses across her forehead, over her cheek, kisses so softly sensual they brought more tears to her eyes.

“B-but you saved me.”

“Why do you insist on defending me?” His hand slipped to her neck, and his gaze fell to the ugly choke marks. “I don’t understand. You should hate me.” She frowned. “I’ll never hate you. You’re the finest man I’ve ever known.” The only man I’ve ever been able to depend on.

Their lips were a breath apart. She blinked.

Everything blurred except Rafe. Her heart pounded, or maybe it was his. He tightened his arms and pulled her closer.

“Maggie…” His mouth brushed hers, once, twice, as if he asked permission for more. These kisses were different, less consoling, more sexual.

Oh, God. Why did she continue to fight this feeling, this attraction? Yes, it was dangerous. Yes, it might be the ruin of her. But this morning she almost lost her long-guarded innocence and her life. A ll the secret yearnings she’d denied for years…

Why keep denying herself? She wanted to be spread wide for a man’s pleasure, for her pleasure. She wanted to feel a man’s rough hands stroke her bare skin. What would it feel like to touch a naked man? To feel his mouth on her breasts? His cock in her cunny? Rafe could satisfy those yearnings, answer those questions. He could give her a memory to last a lifetime.

She parted her lips and touched the curve of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, inviting him to teach her everything. He sucked in a quick breath, then leaned back enough to scorch her with a heavy-lidded, hungry gaze, his reaction sending a shock of power through her.

“God, woman, what are you doing to me?”

“Kissing you. Did I do it wrong?” Humiliation heated her face.

“No, no,” he murmured. “I just…I…” His mouth covered hers in a kiss so soft, so tender, more tears pricked her eyes. “I almost died when I opened that livery door this morning.” He pressed his forehead against hers and kissed the moisture from her eyelashes.

“Forgive me, Maggie…” His hands slid down her back, rubbing slow circles. “Forgive me.”

“I never blamed you,” she whispered. “Stop blaming yourself.”

He lifted his head; a shock of dark hair covered his forehead. For one intense moment, sorrow filled his eyes. “I don’t know how. I’ve carried guilt for so long.” He shook his head.

“What do you mean?” How could it be longer than this morning?

“Nothing.”

The silky rasp of his tongue drifted down her throat, pressing hot kisses, licking the sensitive hollow. Lord, how could a mouth feel so good?

“Rafe.” She clutched his head.

“Do you want me to stop?” His gaze flicked over her.

“No. No. I want you to make love to—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. His kiss stole her word.

He nipped and sucked her lips, nibbled the tender skin behind her ear. Pressing her back against the blankets, he fed on her mouth as if he was starved and she was his first meal. Her head swirled with pleasure, and she opened her mouth wider, welcoming his tongue as he sucked hers into his mouth, dueling, stroking with long, slow seduction. He groaned low in his throat, and a feeling of power washed over her.

Y es . Yes. This is what she wanted, needed. She clutched his shoulders and pulled him close, threading her fingers through his thick hair. He swung one muscled leg over hers pinning her to the ground. Good Lord! His heavy erection ground against her thigh, hard and hot, eager, his length throbbing through both their pants.