Rafe's Redemption Page 18

“I was cleared of any charges. Rape—even of a secessionist—was punishable by death. But I still had to tell our family.”

  She smoothed her hands over his chest. “I can’t imagine the courage it took to tell a man you killed his son.”

  “I didn’t have to. By the time I got home, Simon had rendezvoused with my unit in southern Missouri and had telegraphed ahead. Seymour met me at the door and shoved a gun into my gut.” Rafe’s voice faded, and he took a deep breath. “A t that moment, I wanted him to pull the trigger.”

  Maggie shuddered. “A nd your mother?”

  “Oh.” He barked a bitter laugh. “She took Seymour’s side. Though, she did convince him not to shoot me.

  Maybe she didn’t want to watch me die, maybe she just didn’t want the neighbors to see. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged, the pain from that betrayal a little less sharp with Maggie in his arms. “But she told me to never come back and slammed the door in my face.”

  “Oh, Rafe.” Tightness filled her voice. “Where did you go?”

  “To—” He stopped, unsure of how Maggie would react to hearing about Pearl.

  “Oh. You went to your fiancée.”

  He nodded, remembering how his hands shook that day as he knocked on Pearl’s father’s door.

  “But she didn’t want to come here?” Maggie asked.

  Rafe blew a disgusted snort. “She didn’t want anything to do with me.”

  He felt Maggie’s throat buckle against his shoulder as she swallowed. “I’m sorry she hurt you, sorry you had to leave her behind.”

  “It’s not like you make it sound.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did.” Rafe turned her head so she had to look at him. “You seem to know exactly how I feel.” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “Don’t you think I might know what you feel? Just a little?”

  “I guess not,” she whispered. “I don’t know. I was just…”

  “Jealous?” He felt the corner of his mouth tilt. Maggie was jealous.

  She shrugged. “So what happened?”

  “When I asked her to come West with me, she called this a godforsaken wilderness.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why I ever expected she would act any other way.

  Pearl cared about money, social position. I would have been miserable with her. Even though I was raised in that world, this one called to me. Every story I ever read about the wild frontier made me want this life.” She hugged him. “A t least I know why you’ve had such a hard time trusting me.”

  “I trust you now.”

  She smiled, then snuggled against him, her back to his front. He draped his arm over her waist, holding her close.

  “Thank you, Maggie.” His lips brushed her hair, a peace settling in his soul. How had he gotten so lucky as to have this woman in his life?

  “For what?”

  “Believing in me. Nobody else did.”

  “Of course I believe in you,” she mumbled sleepily. “I love you.”

  Rafe froze. Her sleepy confession might have been accidental, but there was no doubt in his mind she meant the words.

  “Maggie.” He kissed her temple, but her eyes remained closed.

  “Ummhmm.”

  He brushed another kiss to her cheek, then buried his face in her hair. Love. She loved him. Did he love her?

  Yes, he wanted her, needed her, but not just physically.

  They belonged together. He had never met another woman like her. She made him feel like a better man, made him want to be a better man. Which meant he had to settle his past, settle with Simon.

  His mind raced to find an answer.

  Once Maggie was safe in St. Louis, he could go find his stepbrother. A lmost two years had passed. But was it enough? Would Simon listen to Rafe? They both knew what kind of man Shane had been, his cruelty a constant threat as the boys grew into men.

  Still, family was family. Rafe was the outcast. But he had to find an answer. Living like this was unacceptable.

  He would not put the woman he loved in danger.

  Loved? Yes, loved.

  A calm folded over him as he curled around Maggie and inhaled her sweet scent. The dream of a cattle ranch seemed more important now, more obtainable. He could build a real life for them. A big house, lots of children…it was all within reach.

  If Simon didn’t kill him first.

  Chapter Ten

  The smell of coffee pulled Maggie from sleep. Bright morning light slanted through the window. Oh, for a few more hours of darkness snuggled against Rafe. She reached for him, but her arm flopped across the empty bed.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He perched on the mattress and handed her a steaming cup. “How did you sleep?”

  She nodded, and whiffed a curl from her eye. “Fine.

  How about you?” A fter the heart-wrenching story he’d told, she worried nightmares would keep him awake.

  A wry smile quirked his mouth. “Better than I have in years.” He bent and brushed a kiss across her lips.

  “Thank you for that.”

  She had slept too, wound around him like a vine, listening to the steady thud of his tender heart. He’d carried so much hurt for so long, she didn’t understand what kept him from being a bitter, hate-filled person.

  Yet, when he’d seen her in need of help…

  “I’ve been thinking,” he started.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  He snorted. “Funny. But I’ve been thinking about what you said, about being able to defend yourself. Since we’ve got a few days to wait, I’ll teach you to shoot both the pistol and the rifle. I also want to show you the tunnel. Just in case.”

  “Rafe…” If he started insisting she hide again, she was going to scream.

  “Maggie, do this for me.” He slid his hand over hers and squeezed. “Please. This is how you can help. I need to know you’re safe.”

  “Fine. I’m ready.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Let me get dressed and we can start.”

  “I think it can wait until after breakfast.” He chuckled.

  “Otherwise you’ll be too weak to hold the gun.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m fine with just coff

  —” Her stomach rumbled, calling her a liar. “A ll right.

  A fter breakfast.”

  Once the dishes were dried, Rafe led her into the larder and pushed a crate full of potatoes to one side.

  The sliver went farther back than she originally thought, but the only way to get to the end was to crawl.

  He got on his knees and motioned for her to do the same. She inched behind him, watching as he placed a short ladder against the uneven dirt wall.

  “The guns and supplies are up here,” he explained.

  They shinnied up the ladder and crouched on a small ledge. He lit a candle, then reached up and pushed aside two boards. It revealed a hole big enough to climb through. A n evergreen branch hung low overhead, keeping the area clear of snow and ice. Climbing out of the hole, he reached back and pulled her free from the suffocating passageway.

  He pointed below to the roof of the barn. “See where we’re at?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Cougar Creek is that way.” His arm extended. “A nd Cecil’s house is that way. East.” He took her shoulders and turned until the morning sun blinded her view.

  She blinked and fought the shudder prickling her skin. “But we traveled for hours. I couldn’t find it even if I do know east from west.”

  “I told you I’ll draw some maps.”

  She shrugged. It would do no good to argue. He could draw all the maps he wanted. She wasn’t leaving.

  “Let’s go back inside where it’s warm,” he suggested.

  “We’ll have some more coffee, and I’ll show you how to load the pistol.”

  She crawled ahead of him, walked to the fireplace.

  “Can I have two pieces of your drawing paper?” She nodded and pulled them from the satche
l. He settled at the table, pushing his cup aside and began to draw.

  “I’ll make one map to Cougar Creek and another to Cecil’s. A ll right?”

  She watched his hand move over the paper as he spoke. “Fine.”

  “A nd when I’m finished, I’ll go over all the landmarks with you.” He darted a glance her way.

  “Fine.”

  His dark hair fell over his forehead as the pencil scratched out the directions. Let him plan her escape if it made him feel better. She had started forming her own plan.

  “Do you remember that big outcrop of rocks by Cecil’s?”

  “Uh, huh.” She gathered the ingredients to make bread.

  “A nd the row of pines run about two hundred feet before you can see the cabin.”

  “Mmm.” She measured the flour.

  “Maggie? A re you listening to me?”

  “Of course.” She kept her back to him, unwilling to look him in the face and lie. “Rocks. Pines. Cecil’s.” The chair eeked across the floor, and she felt Rafe move behind her. He slipped his arms around her shoulder and stilled her hands with his.

  “Look at me.” He turned her until they were face to face. “I need you to stop being stubborn and pay attention.”

  “I don’t know why I have to do this. You’re going to teach me to shoot.”

  He heaved a long sigh, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “What will you do if I’m killed?” he asked bluntly.

  “A re you going to stay up here until you starve?” Pain—and anger—coursed through her. “Rafe.

  Don’t.” Her eyes filled with tears. How could he be so callous? Even the thought of losing him tore her apart.

  She turned, but he grabbed her hand before she could walk away.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He tugged her fingers until she leaned against him. “But I won’t act as if nothing is wrong.” He pressed a warm kiss to her palm. “I can’t.

  Simon is a real threat.”

  “I know.” She burrowed deeper into his embrace and kissed his warm neck. “A nd I know you feel like you have to prepare me. But…”

  “What?”

  She couldn’t tell him her plan yet. It wasn’t complete.

  Somehow she had to figure out a way to secure enough of her inheritance to get Rafe to Europe. Or A sia.

  A nywhere far enough away that Simon wouldn’t look for him. A nd Rafe wasn’t going to like it, so she had to have all her arguments figured out ahead of time.

  “I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “Maggie…” He shook his head. “You have to promise you’ll go. If something happens to me, promise you’ll go.”

  “Fine, I won’t stay here and starve.” She pulled free and resumed work on the bread. “But as soon as Moses feels better, we’re leaving. Maybe Simon will never find us.”

  Leaning against the table, Rafe sighed. “Maybe. But don’t count on it. I’m not.”

  ****

  With the bread cooling on the hearth, Maggie followed Rafe up the hill behind the barn. The slippery trail made walking near impossible, the snow knee deep

  —thigh deep in places. The sun glinted off the crystals in blinding beauty. Despite the hardships of this wild land, it easy to see why people came to Colorado.

  Once they stood at the top of the hill, Rafe walked off several yards and leaned a board against a stump.

  “Just don’t expect too much,” she warned, worried that she wouldn’t be able to hit the target.

  He smiled. “You’ll do fine. I’ve yet to see anything defeat you. Just aim for the bulls-eye circle I drew on the board.”

  But half an hour and several cartridges later, she saw doubt flicker in his eyes.

  “I just can’t figure it out.” He checked the sights, then handed the gun back to her. “Try again.” Maggie rolled her shoulders trying to relieve the burn. Maybe it was no use. Maybe she couldn’t do this.

  I have to. Rafe can’t fight everyone alone.

  “Wait,” he said as she took aim again. “I know you’re strong, but your muscles aren’t used to holding a rifle for so long.” He found a large stick shaped like a Y and stuck it into the snowy ground. “Now, place the barrel through the stick and shoot again.”

  Maggie stared down the long barrel.

  “Don’t forget to hold your breath,” he reminded.

  She nodded and inhaled deeply, determined to succeed this time.

  Bam!

  The first blast hit the target’s center.

  “I did it!”

  He grinned. “I knew you could.”

  She chewed her bottom lip, her father’s haunting words of incompetence stealing her faith. “What if I just got lucky?”

  “Nah.” Rafe shook his head. “But do it again just to prove it to yourself.” Two shots later, he put his fist through the hollowed target. “See. Hell, you’re a better shot than some men I know.”

  Pride surged through her at his praise. She could do it. A nd if Simon came for Rafe, she would be ready.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said quietly.

  “You are?” Nobody—no man—had ever told her that before.

  “Yes. Look at everything you’ve accomplished since we met.”

  She nodded. He was right. She made her own decisions now, argued when she knew she was right, learned how to protect herself. A nd took a lover—a very handsome lover.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her from her thoughts.

  “A good shootist knows how to take care of his—or her—

  weapon. Let’s go into the house, and I’ll show you how to clean them. Then I’ll let you make me a pie. Or some cookies if you’d rather.” His smile made her laugh.

  “Did I say I wanted to bake?”

  “No. But I could see it in your eyes.” He tapped her nose with his finger. “Or maybe,” he waggled his eyebrows, “that was lust I saw.”

  Oh, the man was something else.

  “Hmm. You’re right.”

  He grinned.

  “I do have a hankering to bake,” she quipped, then turned and left his conceited ass in the snow.

  ****

  The next morning, Maggie finished washing the coffee cups and watched Rafe fill his canteen. Though he whistled softly and the fire snapped warmly, dread chilled her bones. He only filled his canteen for long trips. Like to Fort Craig.

  “What are you doing?” She choked the dish towel in her fist.

  “Getting ready to leave. Want to go with me?” Her stomach felt like she’d eaten a rock for breakfast.

  “You mean to leave for the Fort?” Shouldn’t that make her happy? Things would finally be settled.

  “No. I have traps to check.”

  Relief weakened her knees. Why? Why didn’t she feel eager to return to St. Louis? It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t have a few more weeks with him while they traveled, and by then maybe the attraction she felt would lessen. Or she would figure out what she intended to do about it.

  “You can come.” His hopeful expression melted Maggie’s heart. “Somebody has to make sure I behave myself.”

  She smiled. “I thought that was Wolf’s job.”

  “Nah. He goes to keep Moses out of trouble. Me, I’m on my own…”

  She loved his teasing. Since the night he talked about the Piersons, a weight had lifted from his shoulders. He smiled more, laughed more. Kissed her more. Each night they made love, and he held her close to his side, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

  “A ll right. If you insist,” she answered as if he’d placed a hardship upon her. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Good.” He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “The sun is out again today. Makes it feel warmer.” He kissed the top of her head. “But you’ll still need to dress warmly. Put on one of my shirts over yours. I don’t want you to get cold.”

  She nodded. “I’ll wrap up some salt pork and biscuits.”

  “Well, that sounds good,” he drawled, s
till holding her tightly, “but I know something that sounds even better.”

  “I’m sure I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.” His gaze turned hot, heavy-lidded as he lowered his head and nipped her lobe. “I bet you have some idea.” Hot breath sent shivers down her spine and hardened her nipples.

  “N-no.” It was difficult to talk with his tongue in her ear. “I think you’ll have to show me.”

  “Mmm. I can do that.” Without another word he scooped her into his arms and strode to the bed, placing her on the mattress as if she were made of glass. “You’re so beautiful.” He trailed hot kisses across her jawline, down her throat, nuzzling between her breasts. “Let’s get these clothes off. I want to see you.”

  Clothes hit the floor, as he stripped her. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his stiff cock bobbing as he peeled the pants from his long legs. God, he was the one who was beautiful.

  “Hurry.” She reached for him.

  He grinned. “Horny, sweetheart?”

  “Come here, and I’ll show you how much.” He swaggered to the edge of the bed, and she grasped the base of his cock, sucking him deep, inch by delicious inch. The salty flavor of pre-cum tinged her tongue as he swelled inside her mouth, the large veins pulsing.

  “Stop. You have to stop, or I’ll come.” He tangled his hands in her hair.

  “Mmm.” She nodded permission.

  “No. If that’s the way you want it, turn on the bed so I can get my face and fingers in your pussy.” The image stopped her mid-suck. Him eating her cunny while she sucked his cock. A shiver skated over her skin, puckering her nipples. Oh, yes, that was something she wanted to try.

  Releasing his cockhead with a pop, Maggie swiveled on the bed, making room for Rafe’s head between her thighs. His whiskers bristled her skin, his breath cool against her wet cunny.

  “Damn, you’re wet.” He buried his face in her curls and sucked the hidden nub.

  She arched off the mattress, tremors of pleasure shooting through her limbs.

  “Suck me, sweetheart. Let’s come together.” The words formed against her lips. The thought of making him come, of swallowing his tangy seed at the same time he brought her to orgasm, made the spring inside her wind tighter, tighter.

  In one slide, she sucked his cock to the back of her throat, swirling her tongue around the length. Tightening the suction, she bobbed, delighting in the texture, hard as steel, smooth as silk. Sucking noises filled the cabin, mixed with guttural groans from Rafe. His talented tongue fluttered like a bee’s wing on her nub while his fingers thrust in a short, short, long rhythm that shook her body with spasms.