Harris Channing (23 page)

She
swallowed the lump in her throat and fought the surge of tears that blinded
her. Damn this place for stealing them away and damn it again for making their
proper burials wait until spring.

"I
was just heading down to the trading post for some supplies. The weather is
fine today and travel won't be so horrible." He set his hand back on the
doorknob. "I'd rather have some tea with you, though. Why don't you come
inside and warm yourself. I have some port if you prefer a glass of wine."

"No,
thank you," she said, wishing she had Alfred with her. He was a smarmy
fellow and she lamented her decision.
 
Lamented putting herself in such a precarious postion.

Pa's
advice rattled through her mind.
"If
it feels wrong, don't do it, and if your conscience is clear with the decision
you've made, then it was the right thing for you. Live your life so you don't
regret the things you've done or things you've left undone."

"I'm
not comfortable leaving you on your own. I can't fathom why Henderson allowed
you to trek here alone. Not safe. Wild animals, the occasional marauder, not to
mention the weather as changeable as it is."

She
opened her mouth to confess that he thought her at home but stopped. It
wouldn't do to share too much with a man who would take any word she said and
turn it against David. "I'll be fine," she said, hoping her voice
sounded firm. "I'll just stick my head in the barn and then I'll be on my
way."

"At
least allow me to see you back home." He walked toward her, purpose in his
stride. She took a step back, not liking the determined set of his jaw, or the
lusty sparkle in his eye. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pistol.

Terror
clawed at her throat. What was he doing? Was he going to kill her?

"Do
not move," he said in a low tone.

She held
her hands out, stumbling back a step. “Reg, please, don’t—”

"There's
a wolf just behind you."

Before
she could understand his words, he pulled the trigger. The blast rang out,
startling a flock of crows. With her heart thundering in her chest, she spun
around, searching for the beast. A flash of gray met her gaze as the scraggly
wolf darted into the thicket.

Her hands
trembled and she fought for air, almost certain she would faint. Her ears rang
from the sound of the blast and her legs threatened to give way. She let out a
low, agonized moan and sank down in the snow.

Reg
rushed to her and scooped her up into his arms. She allowed him the advantage,
allowed him to cradle her. Oh, how she longed for Illinois, and the simple life
she led there.

"I'm
sorry, Roberta. He may very well have meant to leave you alone but I couldn't
risk it."

She
rested her head on his shoulder. "Please, as much I loathe the idea, have
David bring you next time." He set his lips to her cheek and pressed a
small kiss to her chilled flesh. "Or better still, stay with me, Roberta.
Stay and be mine."

"No.
I cannot." She pushed at him, his request even more frightening than a
wolf attack.

"Why
can't you?" he asked and instead of freeing her, he held her tighter.
"I can give you things he can't. I can love you for who you are."

"Please,
put me down!" she shouted. "I appreciate your feelings but I love
him. I love David. He is who I want. Who I need."

Reg's jaw
tightened and his gaze grew narrow. "Sarah loved him and yet she came to
my bed time and time again. Do you know that his distance drove them apart? Do
you know she was lonely and sad and came to me for comfort?"

She
continued to struggle, pushing and shoving at him until her arms grew tired.
"I don't care why Sarah betrayed him. I won't do it to him, too. Now, put
me down!"

Finally,
he set her feet back to earth. "You break my heart, Roberta Shallcross. I
thought perhaps you were smarter than that."

She
gasped for air and took a step back only to have him grab her upper arms and
pull her forward. Colliding against his hard frame, her breath was knocked from
her trembling body. Dear God, what was he doing? "I want to go home,
please Reg. Please let me go."

He stared
into her face, no softness, no admiration, only loathing and lust. She vainly
attempted to wrench free but he continued to hold her in place. With a
precision that shocked her and had her mind reeling, he swooped in and pressed
his lips to hers. His mouth was firm, the kiss cold and demanding.

She
clenched her teeth, refusing his tongue entrance to her mouth. Grunting in
protest she stilled. Perhaps if she stopped fighting he would let his guard
down enough for her to escape.

At her
surrender, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and moaned, a satisfied sound
of victory and pleasure. God help her but she wanted to vomit, still, she
leaned into him hoping against hope he would relax enough for her to slip her
hand into his pocket and retrieve his pistol. Yes. That would protect her from
both two- and four-legged beasts.

He
withdrew his mouth and she threw her head back as she had with David, only this
time it was a chore and not a pleasure. He nibbled his way down to the base of
her throat and finally relaxed his hold. She groaned, the sound of pleasure a
lie that had the bile rising in her throat.

Ceasing
his seduction, he pulled back, staring at her through predatory eyes. "You
see, Roberta? We can be good together. Stay with me, be my wife."

She
lifted a brow. "Reg, do you want me that badly?" She hated the way
her voice sounded…soft and sweet. When all she wanted to do was let out an ear
shattering scream.

"Yes,
I do." He yanked her to him, his hands running up and down her back.

The scent
of him enveloped her in a cloying embrace, his touch sending ripples of
revulsion through her body. Her instincts, Alfred's instincts, David's
insistence that Reg was evil all proved right.

With her
arms now freed she slid her hands around his waist. "Why?" She hoped
the question would buy her some time, for the truth was, being so close,
feeling his hard cock pressing against her had her heart racing and the need
for escape almost too much for her to resist.

"Why?"
he asked and she inched her hands toward his pocket…it was his right pocket,
wasn't it?

"Yes.
You barely know me."

"I
know enough." He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "You've lost
so much and yet your generous heart allows you to take care of a drunken
wastrel."

Her ire
flared, yet she said nothing, just continued to inch ever closer to his pocket.

"You
know, he saved my life."

"I
know." His voice dripped with insincere sincerity. "And how I wish it
was my door to which you came."

He pushed
her back and stared down into her eyes. Was it genuine feeling that flickered
in the depths of his bright blue eyes? If she didn't believe he was driven by
his hated for David, she may have considered it. She almost pitied him…almost.

She wet
her lips and met his gaze, trying to keep his attention focused on her face,
hoping that he didn't feel her hand slipping into the folds of his pocket.
"Why do you stay in this miserable place?"

A
melancholy smile touched his lips. "Believe it or not, I feel safer here
than anywhere else."

Rising on
her tiptoes, she kissed him and he responded with a fierce shudder that had him
moaning. He once again pressed his tongue into her mouth and wrapping her hand
around the pistol, she whipped it from his pocket and pushed free.

"Maybe
you shouldn't feel so safe," she shouted triumphantly and with her hands
trembling she pointed the weapon at him. "Now, leave me alone. I'm going
home."

The
expression on his face quickly shifted from passionate lust to passionate
loathing. "Damn you Roberta."

"No.
Damn you!" Her legs felt leaden as she cautiously backed away. "You
need to find someone who loves only you. Stop settling for David Henderson's
scraps."

He
lurched forward and she cocked the trigger. Did he think her a babe in the
wood? Did he think that just because she wore a dress that she didn't know how
to shoot? She could shoot a tin can at ten paces, she could shoot a man in a
peacock blue scarf! But the idea of killing him…well that didn't sit too well.
Aiming just to his left, she pulled the trigger, the sound so loud that it
seemed to echo for a decade before finally silencing.

Reg dove
to the ground, covering his head with his hands. "Are you crazy? Are you
trying to kill me?"

"No!"
she shouted over the ringing in her ears. "I’m warning you. Let me be.
Leave me alone."

Slowly,
he stood, the chill in his gaze unnerving. "You will be sorry for crossing
me."

His tone
was too calm, his expression unreadable as he stared into her face.

"I'm
not crossing you. It is you who have crossed the line. You take advantage
despite my protests." Her hands steadied and she continued to hold the gun
on him.

"You're
a foolish woman and when something happens that causes you more misery, you
have only yourself to blame."

She
didn't like the threat, didn't like his complete lack of emotion. He had grown
colder than the snow that clung to the hem of her skirts.

"All
I want from you is peace. Do you understand?"

He
chuckled, but there was no humor in it, only a deeper threat. With his face now
crimson from pent up emotion, he folded his arms across his chest. "Be off
with you, Roberta Shallcross."

She swallowed
hard as she backed away. Her heart shattering as she glanced at the barn. Dear
God in heaven, what would become of her family now?

***

The wind
bit at David's clean shaven chin and damnation but it itched. His skin so
accustomed to the protection of his whiskers that he almost lamented their
removal. Oh, but to see Bobbie's face when she laid eyes on him. Would she be
pleased or chagrined?

With his
spirits soaring, he offered Ned his heel and the animal grudgingly upped his
pace. Finally, the cabin came into view. Smoke curled from the chimney and he
smiled. She was there. Waiting for him.

Ned blew
out an impatient breath as he pulled the heavy sledge up the steep incline.
"C'mon boy," he complained. "You're dragging your hooves!"

He gave
the horse a good-natured pat on the neck, knowing why the animal was
distracted. For at his side pranced a sturdy buckskin mare, her dark mane
sparkling in the late afternoon sun.

"She
is a pretty thing, isn't she?" he said, perusing her with the eye of a
trained horseman. "Do you suppose Bobbie will like her birthday
gift?" he asked. Ned's reply was a flick of his ears.

His
nerves bunched up in the pit of his stomach. The bigger question was would she
accept the ring that burned in his pocket? Would she be his wife? Would she
bear his children? Would she make him the happiest man in the world? God, he
hoped so. He was beyond ready to move forward.

Finally,
reaching the cabin, he slid from the saddle, his heavy boots sinking in the
snow. After tying Ned and the mare to the hitching pose, he slogged his way up
the stairs.

Trying
the handle, he found the door locked. Good. She needed to be more careful.

"Bobbie,
it's David, won't you let me in?"

He
waited, his hands dropping to his side as he strained to hear movement from
within the cabin. Nothing met his ears, just the creaking of the logs against
the bluster that continually battered the house.

Drawing
his lower lip between his teeth, he rolled on his toes impatiently. What was
going on? Why did she not answer? Questions quickly gave way to concern and
this time when he raised his hand he pounded against the door, the force loud
enough that the mare whinnied in protest.

"Roberta,
open this door!" he shouted, readying his boot to splinter the portal in
to a million pieces. Finally, he heard movement and his worries ebbed. Drawing
in a calming breath, he waited for her to open the door.

She did,
but her head was cast downward as light from the open door fell across her
form. With the plaid blanket from the bed draped over her shoulders, she
appeared so small and helpless.

Dread
twisted a knot in his stomach and when she didn't look at him, he feared the
worst. Something horrible had happened…but what?

Taking a
step inside, he watched her as she backed further and further into the shadows.
What the hell was going on?

"Bobbie,
honey…"

"David."
She dropped the blanket and rushed to him. "I did something very foolish.
And I don't know what to do to fix it."

His heart
and mind raced. Was she regretful for allowing him to make love to her?
Damnation, that couldn't be it…but what else could have happened. Darkness
settled over him like a woolen cloak and he said nothing, simply watched as she
paced back and forth before the fireplace, her face blanched, her eyes red from
tears.

"Can
you help me?" she asked, throwing her arms around him and burying her face
in his in his chest.

He
swallowed hard, staring down at her. Damnation, this wasn't at all how he
planned to spend his evening. But her need was raw and her tears real. Guilt
surged. Had he done this to her? What could have happened the in hours since
his departure?

Embracing
her, he ran his hands up and down her back. "You know I'll do whatever you
need me to."

"David,
I-I need my family to be brought here for their own safety." She pulled
away, his body aching for her return.

Relief
that he was not the cause of her upset surged through him and was quickly
replaced by a sense of despair. For if her fear was over the safety of her
family, it only made sense that it, too, had everything to do with Reg Crocker.
"Why?" he asked, suspicion thick in his throat.

Memories
of Sarah in the scoundrel's arms filled his mind as if the incident had
happened only moments ago. His hatred threatened to blind him and angry heat
flooded his cheeks.

With her
head bent low and her arms folded over her body, she resumed her pacing.
"This is going to make you angry," she said, her voice trembling.
"But I went to see them today."

"You
shouldn't have gone on your own," he said barely able to contain the ire
from his voice.

"I
know, but you left me so quickly and without words I thought you
regretted…" She lifted her gaze toward him as tears poured from her sullen
blue eyes. "I was angry and..."

"Instead
of waiting for me and confronting me you go for my throat. I never thought you
a conniving she wolf." He balled up his fists and flexed his jaw.
Disappointment, his gut burned with it.

Raising
her chin, she stared into his face, her misery of moments ago replaced by a
fury he'd never before witnessed in his sweet, pliable Bobbie. "I am none
of those things. But you must remember just what you've put me through. The
things you've said to me, the things you've done!"

"Done?
What have I done besides change every aspect of myself to satisfy you?"

"Did
you kill Sarah?"

The words
stung and shocked. What the devil was she talking about? "No, and where
would you get such a ridiculous notion?" It was his turn to pace, to burn
off the adrenaline that coursed through every inch of his body.

She
stepped out of his way. "You threatened her…"

"What?
How? How can I threaten a dead woman?"

She
started to sob, and crawling onto the bed, she pulled a pillow over her lap.
"When you were-were stopping the drink…you…"

He came
to her and lowered himself on the bed next to her. Despite his anger, his
compassion, his love for her came to the forefront. "What did I do?"

"You
slammed me into the wall and threatened to choke me." She kept her eyes
averted and her tone somber. Her fingers burrowed anxiously into the fabric of
the pillowcase, her knuckles growing white from the pressure. "You thought
I was Sarah and you accused me of carrying another man's child. You said you
could kill her."

"Oh,
God," he moaned and reaching out touched her hand, the flesh icy and
chapped from the cold. "I had just learned that she had been unfaithful to
me and that there was a chance the baby wasn't mine." Saying the words out
loud brought back the sickening feelings he had for so long tried to suppress
by drink. Feelings he wasn't sure he could even cope with now. His heart ached
from the confrontation but it burned with Bobbie's distrust.

"But
did you kill her?"

He jerked
his hand away, her touch stinging. "You let a man you think capable of
murder take you into his bed? You hate yourself so much and regard me so
little?"

He sprang
to his feet and wished he had stocked the sledge full of liquor.

"I
want to trust…"

"And
when I don't do what you want you go to the man my wife was unfaithful with for
support?"

Damnation,
she was infuriating, but her total lack of trust in him made him glad he hadn't
had the opportunity to ask her to marry him. No, he'd not wed another woman who
thought jealousy was a tool with which to control him. "Did you make love
to him, too?"

Her skin
grew pale, and her eyes widened.
 
"No! God no!
 
How can you ask
me that?"

He
clenched his jaw, choosing to believe her for he couldn't bear the idea of her
offering the monster the pleasure she had offered him.

"Why
did you do it, Bobbie?
 
Why did you
go?"

"I
was hurt…hurt that you would leave without even asking me if I was all
right!" Gone was any hint of sorrow or fear. No. Her face had grown
crimson with her own anger. "You left as if it meant nothing, when it
meant everything to me."

He ran
his fingers through his hair, the unusually short curls odd to the touch.
"It meant everything to me too and yet you squander our chances. Why not
wait? Why Reg?"