The Trailrider's Fortune (37 page)

"No, and I'm
not sure anyone would. I've known card cheats and whores. None of them believed
they were destined to do those things."

"I'm like a
wolf or a cougar, an avalanche. We keep the balance out yonder." He jerked
a thumb toward the cabin door. "You talk a lot about what's meant to be. I
was meant to be a gunman. Can't be a farmer or some dandy in a suit. I tried
sittin' in Jace's parlor in a starched collar so I could…"

He pounded a fist
on his knee. "Dammit, this talkin' don't cut it. It's just gettin' me
riled up again. It's no use. You'll leave here tomorrow, still not
understandin' that I love you, but—"

She spoke up
abruptly, yet her voice was soft. "Don't get all upset. I'm listening and
trying to hear what's inside of you. Go on and say what you feel."

"I feel riled.
Tired and confused. Pissed off, and …"

"And?"
She crept closer, almost close enough to touch his shoulder.

"
Hurt
,
Goddammit! I've had nothin' but time to lick my wounds, and reckon on how the
whole world's gone sour, and most of that's my own fault. You ain't the only
one who's lost a lot these past months."

"I know."
He did indeed look hurt. Too thin. Plagued by worries. Second-guessing himself,
no matter what he said. Bereft of the unflagging sense of humor that had always
seen him through before. "I didn't mean to sound heartless before about
what happened. Your injury. Travis said you nearly died. He's still worried
about you, and you do look much too thin."

He jerked his
shoulders. "I'm all right."

She cocked her
head, studying him. "Need a haircut, too. You shouldn't have carried me
out here, you know. You might have reinjured yourself."

"Were you
goin' to get out of that bed and come talk to me if I'd just asked?"

She flushed.
"Maybe not."

"There you
go," he replied, waving one arm. "See, it's things just like that.
Folks don't want to deal with a problem. But when I do it for 'em, they tell me
I'm wrong."

"I didn't say
you—" She started to argue, then realized he was correct. She
had
just implied that. Much as Kent had inferred she'd been morally wrong for doing
what she'd had to in order to survive. She knew how his assessment had made her
feel, knew she deserved the twinge of conscience she was experiencing now.
Everyone was quick to criticize Rafe.

She knelt in front
of the rocking chair and laid her head gingerly on Rafe's knee. "I've been
as hard on you as everyone else. I'm sorry for that. As much as I've missed you
these past months, I'm glad I didn't know—" Now her head came up.
"No, I'm not. I was about to say I was glad I didn't know you were so
terribly hurt, but I'm
not
pleased. You might have died, Rafe. Died
never knowing you'd been mistaken about Jace, or that I love you so much. When
I think of what—"

His lips on hers
wouldn't let her think. Neither would his arms, pulling her against his hard
length, and dragging her across the small space to the bunk and enveloping her.

She finally drew a
breath and found herself stretched out on the bunk beside him, her head on his
shoulder.

"Know what's
worse than thinkin' someone you love might die?" he whispered.

"No."

"Lyin' alone
night after night, feelin' a hand on your chest. Thinkin' the one you love is
there, strokin' your skin, even though it's scarred and ugly. Thinkin' there's
someone special to live for. Tellin' yourself you've got a reason to keep on,
to get well. Then wakin' up to find it's just the nerves in your chest lyin'
again."

"Oh,
Rafe." She unbuttoned his shirt, ran a palm over his skin. "Do you
feel this now?"

"Yeah, but I
know you're here. Saw you reach into my shirt. Doesn't count."

"Doesn't
it?" she asked sharply. "I could have wired you that money and sent a
letter explaining about McAllister and Slade. I think my being here in person
should count for quite a lot. And considering the rude reception you gave me,
count for even more," she huffed.

He kissed her
tenderly. "Sparkle, you're a fool crazy woman, givin' up a city doctor to
chase after me. Even crazier for sittin' out there for hours, tryin' to prove a
point."

"All right,
I'm a crazy woman. Just promise you won't leave me again, Rafe. You told me
back in Dodge it would never happen and I shouldn't worry about it. But it
did
.
Promise never again, without at least trying to sort things out. Swear
it."

She saw his eyes
were damp in the low firelight. "Sparkle…God Almighty, but I'm so sorry.
You know it was a mistake. I love you, darlin'." He gently stroked her
cheek with a long finger. "Don't stop trustin' me. I never did it to hurt
you."

"I know that,
but I still need your promise before we can be together."

He tilted his head,
staring at her. "Are you blackmailin' me again?" Sparkle had to grin
at the hopeful note in his voice.

"I think
so," she nodded. "You payin' up?"

"Shit howdy. I
promise I won't walk away from you again without at least givin' you a chance
to explain whatever I'm ticked over." He undid the neckline of her sleep
gown. She let him take the gown off, then pull his shirt free of his pants. He
climbed off the bunk and removed all his clothes. He was returning to pull
Sparkle into his arms, then stopped when he saw she was crying.

"What now?
Isn't this what you meant?"

She drew in a sharp
breath, cringing. "Your side and your back."

He grunted.
"Not gettin' any prettier, am I?" When he saw his attempt at levity
had failed, he spoke gently, bending over her in the bunk. "I'm still
alive, honey. Stop cryin'. You'd been cryin' earlier, too. I could tell when I
lit the lamp in the guestroom. I don't want to be the reason for your
tears."

"
Rafe
."
She couldn't stop her tears, but she pulled him down onto the bunk with her,
wrapped her arms around him and let him hold her until they dried up.

With little
foreplay—only a deep kiss and his hands lightly cupping her breasts as he
kneaded them—he entered her. It didn't matter. She didn't need teasing tonight.
She only needed him, with her, all around her, inside her.

She released a soft
moan and clutched him feverishly, returning his passionate kiss full measure.
He pulled his lips from hers and rested on his elbows, panting. "Sorry,
darlin'. Don't quite have the…wind…I used to back yet. Give me a… minute or
so."

"Stay like
that, take a few deep breaths," she encouraged. She tucked her head down,
wriggling to press her lips to the hardened ridge of his long Bowie scar. Her
legs pinned his. She kissed and licked at his chest, feeling it hitch as she
loved him with her tongue. God, but she'd secretly longed to do this—love him,
taste him, right
there
.

"Jesus God,
Sparkle!" She knew he was startled, but his protests became incoherent
moans as she licked and nipped with her teeth, then fastened her mouth over one
flat brown nipple. She began to stimulate him, massaging his lean buttocks with
her fingers, pulling his hips down against hers and gyrating her pelvis to
arouse them both.

Rafe began slowly
pumping his hips. She licked and kissed his scar tissue while raising her
pelvis to meet his thrusts.

Gasping, fighting
for each breath, Rafe was on fire, from the tip of his erection to the last
follicle on his scalp. Burning with a fever hotter than his infection had
caused. His woman had done more than come back to him. She'd listened to him,
battled with him, and blackmailed him. Snapped at him, shamed him, amazed him.
Now she was loving the ugliest part of him. Kissing the disfigurement, telling
him with more than words that she loved all of him. Loved it.

He seriously
thought he might die tonight.

He'd wondered if he
might be able to feel a sensual caress on his chest during lovemaking. Since
meeting Sparkle and finding his nerve sensations somewhat improved, he'd
wondered all the more. But he never would have come out and asked her to caress
him so boldly, to kiss him there even as he took her.

Hell, he'd paid
women to satisfy him and been too ashamed to ask them.

This was his
darkest secret fantasy. The one thing he'd craved but never expected to
experience firsthand. Without a word from him, Sparkle had known. She was
granting his most powerful wish:  that she'd not only prove she accepted who
and what he was, ugly as it might be, but also show him she could embrace all
of it.

For once, he wasn't
taking a woman. His woman—the person he loved more than he'd ever believed
possible—was giving herself completely to him. Giving him intense carnal
pleasure. Proving he hadn't surrendered his heart in vain. But he had to stop
her, because there was one last thing he needed tonight. One thing he had to
have…

He rose up and
rolled them onto their sides, brushing her hair from her face and smiling through
his own tears—yes, they'd begun to trickle. Nothing he could do about it—until
she looked at him and smiled back. "You close, darlin'?" He thrust
again, so she'd have no doubt what he meant.

She moaned.
"Oh God, yes. So close. Oh…"

And then her blue-green
pools went smoky teal. Her eyelids closed as she grunted out his name. They
climaxed violently together, and for a split second Rafe pictured Travis'
entire spread of cattle stampeding around the cabin walls. The walls shook, the
bunk creaked. Rafe shuddered and waited to die.

But like all
violent storms across the prairie, it was over and a quiet followed. A
stillness when the world was cleansed and right again. Peaceful.

Rafe woke some time
later, discovering Sparkle's head on his arm had put it to sleep. He shifted
their bodies and she stirred, stretching against him, wriggling her backside.
Before he knew it, they were spooning again, like the very first time he took
her. But this time he paused after a few moments, his shaft buried deep within
her, her tits in his hands, her life-force fanning the flames of his.

"I'm not sure
I'm up to sufferin' the pure hell I been in these past months ever again. Swear
I won't ask you to the opera. Promise we'll spend our weddin' night in bed,
just like this. I'll lick wine or the icin' from the weddin' cake off your
body, give you a dozen peaks and long, sweet valleys in between. Make love to
you so long, you won't leave the bed for a solid week."

She chuckled and
surprised him by pivoting so she was still impaled but facing him, embracing
him with both arms around his neck. "I can't imagine where you'd get the
idea I would like that."

"I asked you
before, but maybe you didn't think I meant it. I want you to be my wife for a
fact, Sparkle. I'll do my best to make you happy, even though I'll prob'ly
never manage to get everything quite right. Don't reckon I could make anybody
as deep-down content as you make me."

"You really
want to, don't you? Get married?" She studied his dark eyes. "You
want to see me happy. The last several sentences were all about me."

He had to smile.
From what she'd said about that damned fool doc, he'd made the mistake of
building his marriage proposal around his work, his folks, his own notions.
Rafe wasn't going to follow that lousy example. He touched the turned-up tip of
her pert little nose.

"Reckon I'm
learnin' how to blackmail from one of the best. If I want you to do somethin',
I need to sweeten the deal. From your perspective. So, how about this? I
promise to love you with all my heart until the day I die."

She choked on a
small sob. Was she going to argue some more?

"Sparkle, if
we're meant to be together like you were sayin' last night, you got to marry
me. Don't you see that?"

She gave him a
tearful smile. "Yes. Oh, yes."

"Yes, you see
my point, or yes, you will?"

"I said yes
twice
,
Raford."

"Goddamn. You
did!"

The cabin door
creaked. "Rafe, you awake?" Travis stepped inside. Miranda was right
behind him. She let out a gasp of pure shock. Rafe shot from the bunk to seize
his Colt from its holster. Sparkle dove under the jumble of quilts.

"Sorry,"
Travis coughed without an ounce of sincerity. "Didn't mean to
intrude."

Rafe lowered his
pistol, scowling. "My ass! Sneakin' up on a man like me can prove deadly,
Trav. Expected you to know better. Rannie," he mumbled, giving a half-nod
of greeting. He retrieved his pants from the floor and stepped into them.
"If I'd known my kinfolk were plannin' to pay an early mornin' social
call, I would've made sure I at least had on a clean pair of socks."

Miranda blushed.
"We were concerned. Travis' houseguest mysteriously disappeared sometime
during the night. He said she was distressed last evening. Her trunk's still
there, but he doesn't know if someone took her to the train depot or…well, we
didn't know. He thought we should ask if you'd seen her."