Divine Deception (6 page)

Trader still held the man’s limp and broken arm as he turned to catch the fist of one of the other men as it swung toward Trader’s head. Trader applied the same pressure to this man’s arm as well. The cracking of a second bone seemed to echo through the store as he pushed both men to the floor.

“
Okay, devil,” one of the other men growled, pulling a large knife from its sheath at his thigh. Trader reached out as if the man intended to present it to him. Grabbing the man’s hand, Trader turned his own knife back on him. He held the knife at the man’s throat even though the villain used both his hands to try to push it back.

Fallon gasped and covered her ears too late as she heard another bone break when Trader shoved his foot into the man’s knee, causing him to fall to the floor, moaning in pain. Trader then turned to the final villain, who pulled a gun from his boot and pointed it at the mighty, cloaked hero.

“
I ain’t so clumsy,” the man said, smiling triumphantly.

“
Oh, really?” Trader mumbled as his fist met the man’s jaw. The sound of another fracture resounded. Fallon stood paralyzed. “Mr. Thompson, will you fetch Sheriff Rigby, please?” Trader asked. Mr. Thompson closed his own gaping mouth and nodded before bolting for the door. Meanwhile, the leader of the degenerate group was trying to get to his feet.

“
Ya dirty devil! Ya broke my arm!” he shouted.

Trader walked to the man and pushed his head down against the floor with his foot.

As the man’s face contorted with humiliation and pain under the sole of Trader’s boot, Trader growled, “I could’ve broken your neck as easily. How dare you touch my wife?” The pinned criminal began cursing. “Shut up! Or I will crush you completely!” Trader growled.

Trader turned to Fallon then. “I told you to bring Ben with you today!” he growled at her. Fallon stared at him, too stunned to respond. He looked down at the man whose face was beneath his boot. “Well, it wasn’t her fault anyway, was it?”

“
Ya dirty devil! How much did ya pay for her anyway?” the man shouted.

Reaching down, Trader grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him to his feet in one swift, effortless movement. “What?” he growled into the man’s face.

“
Well, ya’d have to have bought her. No woman worth nothin’ would want ya to—” The savage was silenced as Trader dealt a fierce-fisted blow to the man’s mid-face, no doubt breaking his nose in the process.

The sheriff arrived in the next moment, and Trader’s hood focused on Fallon. She was still in a state of stunned horror, humiliation, and fear, and she dashed from the store. Dropping to her knees in front of the watering trough, she began to splash the stagnant water on her face, rubbing her flesh thoroughly where the man’s mucky, foul tongue had tasted her. She continued to scrub her tender cheek even as Trader took hold of her shoulders.

“
Fallon, come along. I’ll take you home,” he said, almost softly. But Fallon continued to cup the water in her hands and bring it to her face, rubbing mercilessly.

“
Help me! Help me wash it off!” she wept in a whisper.

“
It is off. Now come along,” Trader commanded. She pulled away from him and began sobbing bitterly.

“
It’s still there! I can feel it! It won’t come off!”

Trader took hold of her arms and pulled her to her feet, turning her to face him. “It’s off! Come out of it, girl!” he ordered as she clawed at her face with her fingernails.

“
I can feel it!” she cried, tears streaming over her cheeks.

Trader firmly took her chin with one gloved hand, he said, “Fallon! Listen to me. It’s gone. He won’t try it again. He can’t. I’ve made sure of it.”

But Fallon was still frantic. Taking Trader’s gloved hand in hers, she began rubbing her cheek with it.

“
Take it away—that awful feeling!
You
touch my face! You touch me, and I can stand it. You touch me, and I’ll be all right.”

Trader pulled his hand away quickly and paused only a moment before removing his glove. As he cupped her tender cheek firmly in his warm palm, Fallon covered his hand with her own, pressing it harder against her flesh.

“
Trader,” she sobbed in a whisper, finally able to calm herself slightly. “Trader, what if you hadn’t come for me? They would’ve…what if you hadn’t come for me?” she cried.

“
I came for you, Fallon,” he said in a soothing voice, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His hand was warm, calloused, powerfully capable of inflicting great pain. Yet Fallon reveled in the feel of it on her face. It was the first time he had truly touched her. Other than the moments, the so terribly brief moments at their wedding, the painfully brief moments when she’d slipped his wedding ring on his finger, the excruciatingly brief moment when he’d kissed the back of her hand. It was the first time Trader’s flesh had met with her own. It caused her mind to burn and her flesh to tingle. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to feel his touch forever.

But as she opened her tear-filled eyes, her attention fell to the blood soaking his pants at one thigh.

“
Oh, Trader!” she cried, panic rising in her anew. Using her skirt, she dabbed at the wound. It was bleeding excessively, and she pressed firmly on it with her small hands.

“
It’s fine, Fallon,” Trader muttered, replacing his glove.

“
It’s not!” she said, as she knelt to inspect it. The wound was perhaps seven inches in length and alarmingly deep. “Oh, Trader! What if Doctor Smithers isn’t in town?” Fallon could barely control the overwhelming sense of panic growing within her.

“
He is. Here he comes now,” he answered calmly. Fallon stood up and called to the doctor.

“
Hurry, hurry! He’s cut badly!” She looked down at her hands and dress, which were covered with blood. It wasn’t the sight of blood that weakened her but the fact that it was Trader’s blood on her hands and clothes. She looked up at him and whispered, “You could’ve been…” and then she felt his strong arms about her as everything went black.

“
Stop it! Just stop it! I think that degenerate did more than lick your face in that store. You’ve been hysterical ever since. I am not Julia’s lover—although it is quite flattering you would even imagine it to be so.” Fallon was furious at his mocking and pushed at his chest, stepping back and out of his grasp.

“
Those moments in the store were the most horrible I’ve ever known, Trader! Worse even than being beaten or starved! How can you mention it?” She turned and picked up the reins to her horse.

“
I’m sorry, Fallon,” he said, catching her arm. “But you’ve been so solitary since it happened. And now, you’re accusing me of being some other woman’s lover! And you claw at your face all the time! It’s even bruised from it. You’ve washed it clean. For Pete’s sake, girl!” She looked up at him.

“
I still feel it there, Trader. I still feel it!” She put her hand to her face. He angrily pushed it away.

“
Then think of something else! Didn’t some little boy ever kiss your cheek? Think on that instead.” She looked down, embarrassed somehow that no boy had ever placed a sweet kiss there. Then she saw it, and her attention changed. She looked boldly at his bare chest, bronzed from working in the sun. A massive scar beginning at his right shoulder and traveling diagonally across his chest and stomach disappeared into his trousers above his left hip. Almost as a reflex, she reached out to touch it with her fingers. “Don’t,” he warned.

“
Oh, Trader. Does it pain you still?” she asked in a whisper. Such a gruesome scar certainly would hurt forever. It had been a deep, nearly mortal wound from the ghastly look of it.

“
More than you can fathom,” he said, turning back to his work. Fallon had covered her mouth, stifling the gasp wanting to escape as she saw his back was scarred as well! Two massive scars, sickly pale against his bronzed skin crossed each other across his back. She could not help but reach out to touch it. It seemed so unreal! Surely it was not. Trader startled and spun around to face her once more. Catching her wrists in the vice-grip of his powerful hands, he growled, “Don’t touch me, Fallon!” Again her attention was fixed on the gruesome scar across his muscular, perfectly sculpted torso.

“
Saber wounds. Aren’t they?” she whispered. He pushed her hands away, his chest rising and falling with his angered breathing. But Fallon could not silence herself, for the scars were somewhat familiar to her. “My daddy had similar ones. He received them in battle during the war.”

“
Go home, Fallon,” he growled, returning his attention to his work. Fallon stood trembling, staring in disbelief at the terrible scars on his back. “Go home,” he repeated.

Fallon turned to mount Kelly but paused. Perhaps he would offer her no explanation for his wounds, for his distance. But she would offer him reason.

“
I have nothing to remember, Trader. You may have many romantic conquests to think on when you need to, but I have nothing save a disgusting, stinking, vile man
tasting
me.”

Fallon brushed a tear from her cheek and put her foot in the stirrup to mount. However, Trader’s hand took hold of her arm, halting her. He turned her to face him and discarded his working gloves again. Reaching down and retrieving his shirt from the ground, he proceeded to tear it.

“
What are you doing?” Fallon asked, puzzled.

Without uttering a response, he tore a strip from the fabric and placed it over Fallon’s eyes, tying it at the back of her head.

“
Trader, what are you—” she began, but his bare hand caressing her cheek silenced the words in her throat. His touch, though forceful and masculine, was gentle and tantalizing, sending her unpleasant thoughts and memories of the cruel man from the store into oblivion.

As his hands caressed her cheeks, her neck, her forehead, he said, “Forget it, Fallon. Don’t think on it again.” She clutched his forearms to retain her balance as he took her shoulders and drew her closer to him. He stroked her cheek tenderly with his thumb. Then, as he held her face in his powerful hands, Fallon, for the first time, felt the softest caress of his lips as he kissed her cheek ever so lightly. Her knees weakened, buckled slightly, and she was humiliated when a small gasp escaped her lips. She wanted to throw herself into his embrace, to feel his warm, muscular form against her own, promising acceptance and safety. Instead her hands gripped his forearms tighter, afraid she might succumb to the desire to be held against him. His arms were solid as oak. She knew they would avert any harm that might threaten her in the future. He kissed her cheek, pressing his lips firmly against her flesh. Then he—or she herself, she didn’t know which—broke the barrier. Fallon fell against him and into his strong embrace. His mouth was hot and sweet, tinged with the flavor of peppermint when it hungrily seized her own. The feel of his mouth pressed to hers, taking hers, drinking of hers, rapt her in a divine sensation. She felt as though her very first life’s breath had filled her lungs, filling her body with some sort of heavenly nectar. Trader’s kiss was deliriously blissful! His embrace nearly crushed her, but she did not care. The feel of it washed her with blessed security and safety.

All at once, his mouth left hers, paused at her cheek a moment before he breathlessly murmured, “No,” pushing her away from him. “I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have…” he stammered. Then seeming to regain his composure, he removed the blindfold he had fashioned from his shirt. Fallon looked up at him, gazed into the dark hood, her mouth still moist with his peppermint kiss. “Now…now put what face you will with that and think no more of the animal in the store.”

Trader had given her all that he could—all that he ever would. Somehow Fallon knew it was all he could give her, but it was more than she had ever dreamed. She was grateful. Painfully grateful. Deliriously grateful.