Harris Channing (14 page)

Despite
knowing that his plea was more to keep her away from Reg than it was to keep
her with him, she agreed. Every fiber in her body warned against staying with
Reginald Crocker. She just wished she could figure out why. "All right,
let's go home."

"You're
going to be sorry, Miss Roberta," Reg said, stepping aside as they
shuffled past. "He'll hurt you. I know you think you can save him, but
you're wrong. He's going to hurt you. He's incapable of loving anyone but
Sarah."

She
didn't respond to his declaration, but deep in her heart she feared he was
right. That no matter what sort of woman she was, she would always be in
Sarah's shadow.

Chapter 11

The snow
continued to fall, covering their footsteps as they left Reg's cabin and headed
home. David rode behind her as he had on the way up, but instead of reining Ned
toward home, he handed Bobbie the reins.

Was it
evil of her to enjoy the feel of his arms around her waist? Wicked of her to
savor his chin on her shoulder and his warm breath in her ear? This simple
contact was what she needed, just to feel him close, someone she trusted,
someone she longed for, someone she…

Her
thoughts came to a sputtering halt. She almost allowed herself to think the
unthinkable…someone she loved? That wasn't possible. They hadn't known one
another long enough. The time they spent together had been difficult and when
she needed him the most he pushed her away. Shouted obscenities at her and
promised her nothing. How could she even conceive that she loved him? He was
just what Reg had said, a drunkard. Just what David himself proclaimed,
irreparably broken. So, why then did she want only to be with him?
Why?

"I'm
sorry Bobbie. I should have been there for you. I keep making the same
mistakes." The sweet sound of his voice, the honestly of his apology and
she realized that even if she didn't love him, she cared deeply and what he
thought meant something to her.

"Well,
I didn't fall, so I didn't need you to catch me."

"Was
it your family?"

A sob
caught in her throat. "Yes."

"What
can I do?" He squeezed her a little harder and brushed a kiss across the
side of her head.

"Nothing.
Letting me come home instead of insisting I go to the post was exactly what I
needed you to do." She swallowed her tears and nearly choked. Home? When
did she start considering David's cabin as her home?

"I
was being selfish. I've been on my own so long I forgot that relationships were
give and take."

"Relationship?"
He had given what they had between them status? My oh my, Reg Croker needed to
knock him out more often. The anvil that rested upon her chest lightened just
the littlest bit.

"You're
the best friend I have. Hell, you're the only one who's persisted long enough
to even get to me a little since Sarah died."

"You're
all I've got, too," she said, allowing the tears she fought to fall and
mingle with the snowflakes that constantly bombarded her face and gathered on
her eyelashes.

"I
don't know why you chose to come with me rather than stay with Reg, but thank
you."

She was
tempted to tell him how much Reg made her very skin crawl, but instead allowed
the small kernel of jealousy to sit and fester. She didn't need for him to know
that the post was a better fit than Crocker's place. And the sooner she got her
family out of there the better.

"I
owe you. You saved my hands and feet. You saved my life."

"Is
that why you chose me?"

"No."

"Then
why?" he pressed, his mouth so close to her ear that his breath sent a
pleasing chill over her skin. "Tell me."

She
reined Ned down the snow shrouded path and into the wood. "Why do you
think, you silly man. I care about you."

He
chuckled. "I care about you too. Unfortunately, it took Reg Crocker
beating the hell out of my stubborn ass to see it."

"Well,
perhaps we should have him over for rabbit stew sometime soon. Just to keep you
in line." She would have laughed, but despite the small shard of delight
that his admission allowed, she was far too sad to be happy.

With the
wind blowing in her face, Bobbie urged Ned to go a bit faster. The snow was
getting heavier and despite the fact that David was with her, the memories of
getting lost in the wood were still fresh in her mind. All the trees looked
same, the path all but obliterated by the large, fresh flakes. She could be
going around in circles until doomsday and never even realize it.

The
thought of being lost in the wilderness had her urging Ned to go faster.
"Are we going the right way?" she asked, trying to keep the shrill
sound of fear from her voice.

"Yes
Bobbie, you're doing fine, and you're not going to get lost. If you dropped the
reins Ned would take you home. Besides, I’m here. I can find the cabin blind
drunk."

"Well,"
she grudgingly admitted. "I'm grateful to Ned, but I'd rather have you
sober."

He
shifted in the saddle and loosened his grip on her waist. "If we weren't
having another damnable blizzard, I'd be heading straight to the trading post
to replenish my stock. The only difference in my plan is you coming home with me
rather than staying behind," he said with resignation.

Concern
flared. "Don't you want to quit?"

"Want
to? No, but considering I have not so much as a drop left in the cabin, you're
going to get to see me at my worst."

"You've
certainly seen me at mine," she replied, wondering just what it would be
like to have him sober for more than a couple of hours during the day.
"And I don't know how long I can go on without crying, or screaming or
both."

"As
I see it, I reckon we'll just have to be miserable together."

***

Truer
words were never spoken. Without a bottle in his hands, David didn't know what
to do with himself. And damnation why did his hands tremble so much? And the
thirst…well it was unquenchable. Three blasted days without the drink and he
was a wreck, a shattered, shaking, miserable wreck.

Sitting
before the fire, he stared into the bright orange flames, wondering if maybe
he'd missed a bottle somewhere. Were there a few drops left in his flask? He
sprang to his feet and without grabbing his coat rushed toward the door.

"Where
are you going?" Bobbie asked from the pantry. She was busying herself with
dinner but the aromas that came from the kitchen, of stewed canned tomatoes and
spice didn't interest him, unless he had it with a mouthful of whiskey to chase
down the food.

"I-I
left something in the barn," he shouted over his shoulder. "I won't
be a minute."

"You're
not taking your coat?" she asked, coming toward him, her hands twisting in
her apron, her red-rimmed eyes watching him with worry

"I
won't be a moment, I-I know what I'm looking for."

He could
see by her expression that she was dubious of his motivation and she should be.
He needed to see if his flask held even the smallest taste and damnation, he
hated himself for it.

She
tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I've not come across any
whiskey in the pantry. Are you hoping to find a bottle in Ned's grain?"

Shame
washed over him. Was his thirst that obvious? "I need a drink,
Bobbie."

"I
found some coffee, tea, even some sugar to sweeten it."

Anger
surged through him. "I don't want coffee." He marched toward the door
and set his hand atop the handle to open it. Making certain his back was to
her, he grumbled loud enough for her to hear, "Don't watch me. Don't judge
me. This is why I wasn't sure this could work."

She came
up on him, wrapping her long fingers around his arm, her touch on his skin
electric. He stopped, his hand still on the door latch. "Let me help
you."

"How?"
he pleaded. "This is something that no one can help me with. It's
something that I have to do on my own and God damn it, I don't want to."
He leaned his head against the closed door. "I want to fall into a bottle
and never come out."

"Want?
You want to live what's left of your life inebriated?"

He turned
toward her and she wrapped her warm arms around him and pressed her supple body
into his. He didn't move, just stood there. Did he truly want to be drunk every
day for the rest of his life? Did he?

"No.
But I want to feel normal and I've been drunk so long, that it is normal."
Despite her intention to comfort, her touch sent his overtaxed nerves into
overload. Christ, he felt as though his skin were on fire.

"You
can give it up. I'll help you. I'm right here."

"I
appreciate that, sweetheart, but I can't do it." He dragged his tongue
across his dry lips. "I gotta get out of here."

Her hold tightened. "No! You
have to stay and fight this."

He struggled to get away from her,
pushing her back. She was relentless, her hands everywhere at once as she
grabbed hold and clutched the collar of his shirt. She tugged at him, the
fabric ripping as buttons gave way.

Damnation, why didn't she just let
him go? What did he matter to her anyway? It was simply gratitude that had her
clinging to him, not any real affection.

Her cheeks darkened and her eyes
flashed and instead of releasing him, she wrapped her arms tight around him.
"David you can do this."

He temporarily ceased his fight.
"Bobbie please. Maybe I can wean myself off the stuff but I can't just
quit. It's been a part of my daily existence for five damned years." He
slowly lifted his arms and without thought, he wrapped them about her and
really held her as a man should hold a woman. God it felt good, giving and
taking what he needed from someone. And she fit so beautifully against him, her
sweet curves melding to his hard, muscular frame.

"I know it's not easy, but you
can do it. I know you can." She rested her head against his bare chest,
her warm breath fanning across flesh thirsty for contact.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel
of her divine touch. His racing heartbeat slowed to a bearable speed and
despite his guilty conscious, blood shot to his cock, and erect, it pressed
against her. Surely, that would get her off him and he could escape into the
night in a mad hunt for a single drop.

"David?" she gasped,
easing her grip. Unfortunately, she didn’t jump back, didn’t slap him as he
wished she would. No, instead, she slid her hands down his chest. Cool
fingertips met feverish skin and when she looked up at him there was curiosity
in her eyes. Her lips parted as she gasped for breath.

Was she
so guileless that she didn't realize what she was doing? How much her close
proximity had his body longing for precious contact with hers? "Another
reason I feared this wouldn't work," he whispered, leaning in, his lips a
whisper away from hers. "The attraction I feel for you is overwhelming and
I'm weak." He moved nearer, waiting for her to respond, to push him away,
something. When she set her lips to his, he was lost, tumbling toward something
forbidden, yet completely permissible.

A small
sigh escaped her throat and the need grew. Was it possible that both of their
pain could be eased by a simple yet complex action? His thoughts grew clouded,
his thirst easing as he drank from her intoxicating cup.

Parting
her lips with the tip of his tongue, he invaded the warmth of her mouth. Dear
God but she tasted good. Better than booze, the effect stronger and more
dizzying. She responded to his tender entrance, her tongue flicking against
his. She yielded, her fingers sliding up his bare chest leaving in their wake
more glorious arousal.

He'd
never been kissed with such generosity before and moving his hands down her
body, he cupped her buttocks, drawing her closer. She shivered, her hands
clutching the flannel as she pulled her lips free and offered him her neck. Her
charity stirred the longing the drink held at bay and he lowered his head,
devouring delicate flesh. Damnation, she tasted of innocence, soap, and a
delicate flavor that belonged only to her.

Despite
the trembling of his body, he easily lifted her into his arms and carried her
to the bed. Letting her down, he towered over her, taking in every inch. She
lay with her arms open wide, inviting him to take her.

Her ample
breasts rose and fell beneath the wool of her gown. "Come and hold
me," she whispered. "It's all right to need me, David."

Completely awakened by the beauty
that stared up at him, his need for drink subsided and his need for her gained
control. Yes, he needed her. Needed to sink himself into her glorious folds, to
feel the heat of a woman's body beneath his, to empty his long held seed into
her beautiful reservoir. All thoughts of anything but Bobbie fled his mind.
Yes, she would repay her debt this night. She would save him from the biggest
monster he'd ever encountered.
Himself.

***

Roberta
stared up at him, his pain so strong all she wanted to do was ease it. Why she
hurt when he did, she couldn't fathom. And perhaps her loss made her
inhibitions fly away on the gusts of wind that battered the cabin. The only
thing she was certain of was the need in her, the need to feel a connection,
not just to another human being, but to David. And David was here and his green
eyes bespoke of his own desire, his lips parted as he dragged air into his
lungs in gulps.