Samantha James (20 page)

She started to cry.

K
ane felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Not once. But over, and over, and over.

It seemed odd to see this strong, fiery woman in tears. She’d turned away from him, but beneath the blanket, her shoulders were shaking. The sight completely unnerved him.

Never had she been more vulnerable.

Never had he resented her more.

Because tears were the one thing he hadn’t expected from her … the one thing he couldn’t deal with.

A voice like a cattle prod reared inside him.
Don’t just stand there, you fool Comfort her
.

His insides wound into a knot, coiled tight and hard.
I can’t
, he thought.
She thinks I’m a coldhearted bastard
.

She’s right, too
, jeered the first nagging voice.
But she needs someone, Kane. She needs someone now
.

Not me. Christ, I’m the one person she doesn’t need
.

Look around, you horse’s ass. Do you see anyone else? She’s alone, Kane, alone just like you’ve always been. Her pa’s gone, remember? You’re the only one here, Kane, the only one who can help her
.

Panic surged within him, panic and some nameless emotion as violent as the storm that raged earlier. He felt like shoving his hand through the wall. He felt like running out into the night, until he could run no further. He clenched his fists, over and over, unable to go to her, unable to leave.

“Abby.” Uncertainty made his voice harsher than he realized. “Abby, stop it.”

Seized by a bone-deep despair, Abby merely wept harder. Utter helplessness welled up in her, a flow she couldn’t stem.

The sound of her weeping tore at Kane’s heart, even as it tore at his sanity. He ground out her name, the sound as raw as her sobs. He wondered furiously if this wasn’t just another ploy—a woman’s trick to get him to knuckle under and do her bidding.

“Abby … Jesus … Don’t cry. For heaven’s sake,
please
don’t cry.”

Bracing himself inwardly, he knelt down beside her. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he tipped her chin to his. She made no effort to fight him. Tears slid unheeded down her cheeks, pale and glistening. She looked utterly defeated, too beaten to even wipe them away.

Something caught at his heart. Slowly, as if the movement caused him great pain, he closed his arms around her. She gave a dry, heartbreaking sob and clung; the sound pierced his chest like a rusty blade. All at once Kane found himself struggling with the unlikely position of having to be strong for both of them.

He didn’t want to be. God, but he didn’t! He’d been on his own for too many years. He’d lived his life for too long without ties. He didn’t want Abby leaning on him for comfort or support—he didn’t want the responsibility and he sure as hell didn’t need it!

But her body nestled against his aroused a flood of sensations he didn’t want to feel—a feeling of protectiveness, of possessiveness as foreign to him as he suspected tears were to her.

Scalding tears seeped into the hollow of his throat. “You were right,” she wept. “We should have stopped for the night. I shouldn’t have insisted we keep going.”

She rocked against him. He eased her face into the notch between his neck and shoulder. “You couldn’t have known the winds would change. No one could.”

“You
did.” Abby hated her foolish tears, but she couldn’t seem to help it. “God, I should have listened to you. It’s my fault Sonny’s dead … If I hadn’t been so—so stupid, so stubborn and determined to argue with you, Sonny would still be alive …”

It wasn’t just the horse. Kane was achingly aware of that. No, her weakness right now wasn’t solely because of guilt over Sonny. As she’d already revealed, it was all mixed up with guilt over leaving her dead father. He knew what it felt like to lose a loved one—God, when he’d lost Lorelei, it was as if his heart had been ripped out.

“Maybe you’re right,” he whispered, smoothing the rain-washed cloud of hair that tickled his chin. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t gone on. On the other hand, there’s every chance the storm would have caught us anyway, even if we
had
stopped for the night—and maybe Sonny would
still
be dead.”

With his thumbs he gently wiped away the dirt and dampness from her cheeks. “We can’t go back, Abby. We can’t change what happened, and so we have to learn to live with it.”

He pulled her onto his lap, settling her against him like a kitten. She melted against him as if she belonged there. He squeezed his eyes closed, aware of a tightness in his chest that was nearly unbearable—part pleasure, part pain.

He offered no more advice, certainly no wisdom—God knew it wasn’t his to impart. But his presence seemed to calm her. Her crying soon ceased.

Night descended, heavy and thick, while the roll of thunder grew ever more distant. The fire sizzled and hissed. Sparks showered and crackled, sending a blaze of yellow further into the shadows.

At some point her hands had crept up to his naked chest. The softness of her cheek, still damp with her tears, nestled just above his heart. Her long, ragged sigh stirred the dense mat of hair on his chest.

Every muscle in Kane’s body went rigid. The closeness of warm, feminine flesh, the fragrant, womanly scent of her, her yielding pliancy, the fragile weight of her breasts pressing his chest … The warning signs were abundantly clear.

He thrust her from his lap.

Abby knew the instant something changed. She’d felt the tension invade his body a fraction of a second before he shoved her away. Caught off guard by his abruptness, she could only stare as he bounded to his feet and strode toward the fire. Once there, he shoved his hands through his hair, his displeasure keenly evident.

Bewildered, she whispered his name.

There was nothing. Even the fire ceased its crackle and hiss.

A pang shot through her. She rose to her feet. Rather awkwardly she moved to stand just behind him, careful not to trip over the trailing ends of her blanket. For a timeless moment she remained huddled there, her arms around her middle, trying desperately not to feel so forlorn, so … abandoned.

His withdrawal was complete and absolute. She could see it in the iron cast of his jaw. Why? she cried. What had she done to make him suddenly so—so distant! All at once she felt so hollow, so empty that she Wanted to die.

Her shuffling had alerted him to her presence. He whirled, his expression so fearsomely forbidding she stumbled back a step.

His mouth thinned as the blanket slipped, revealing one smooth, bare shoulder.

“Why didn’t you change like I told you? You had plenty of time.”

Abby flinched. His tone was like a whip. She inclined her head to where her chemise and drawers lay draped over the shack’s only two chairs. Her gaze remained riveted to his as she whispered, “My underwear’s still wet.”

He jerked his head to where he’d dropped her saddlebag in the opposite corner. “I never met a woman traveled with only one set of underwear.”

His rudeness made her cheeks burn. Feeling more foolish and uncertain than ever, Abby shook her head. “I only brought two, besides those.” She nodded toward the chairs. “Jake ruined one,” she went on, her voice very small. “And the other …” Her voice trailed off. They both recalled last night, the way he’d torn her chemise cleanly in two. The memory rose stark and vivid in both their minds, shared but appreciated by neither. Kane jerked his gaze away, muttering under his breath. Knowing she was naked beneath the blanket wreaked havoc with his insides.

Abby directed her gaze to the floor. A shiver tore through her. It had taken her a long time to get warm after Kane had left. All at once she wanted his arms hard and tight around her once more. She wanted it with a yearning that made her ache inside. But what could she say?
Hold me, Kane. Hold me close and don’t ever let me go
.

Scarcely daring to breathe, she started toward him.

His lips drew back in a relentless line. He stepped back and flung up his arm. “Don’t,” he warned.

Abby was not to be deterred. Behind a mask of courage and bravado, she breached the single step that lay between them. Trembling inside, but compelled by some deep-seated need she didn’t fully understand, she extended her fingers toward the raspy hardness of his cheek.

His hand snaked out. His fingers wound around her wrist.

She cried out at the fierceness of his clasp. “Kane, please, you—you’re hurting me!”

His gut twisted. No more than she was hurting him, he thought. God, only half as much as he was hurting! Sweat beaded on his forehead. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t need any more complications in his life. He had problems enough without adding one more, let alone this particular one. Goddammit, he didn’t need
her
.

He released her, his breath harsh and scraping. “You heard me.” His tone was grating. “Don’t touch me. Just—just stay the hell away from me!”

Her wounded expression stabbed like a blade. She shook her head in puzzled confusion. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so—so deliberately hurtful?”

“You’re fine,” he told her brusquely. “Tougher than any woman I know—hell, tougher than most men!”

She shook her head wildly. “No, Kane, I—I’m not.” Her lips trembled. “Surely you of all people know I’m not!”

Frustration and bitterness warred deep in his heart. “I don’t know anything,” he said harshly. “I don’t know who I am anymore. Christ, Abby, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing with a man like me!”

Again she shook her head. She spoke the only truth in her mind. “I—I’m not afraid of you, Kane.” She wanted very badly to touch him, she realized. But his regard was blistering, his features black with rage, his nostrils pinched and white. And she couldn’t stand it if he rejected her yet again …

“Maybe you should be,” he said fiercely. “Who am I for you to put your trust in? I’m a criminal, wanted by the law. Do you have any idea what men like me do to women like you?” Her face drained of color, but still she didn’t retreat.

Kane went a little crazy then. “Jesus, I could be leading you off to God knows where—to do God knows what to you! I could tie you up and rape you—a thousand times, a thousand ways. I could beat you, treat you like the animal you’re so fond of calling me. And when it was over, you’d pray for death because a woman like you could never stand the shame of being used by a man like me.”

Each word was like an angry, pelting blow. He wanted to seize her, haul her up against him and ravage the soft, sweet innocence of her mouth. He wanted to hurt her as she was hurting him. He wanted to turn her faintly shocked, bemused features white with fear … to see her turn from him, make her see him for the black-hearted scoundrel he really was.

But she didn’t whirl to run screaming as if he were a monster from hell. She just stood there, huddling beneath that god-awful blanket, her eyes brilliant and blue and unwavering. The purity of that look tore at him like a spear. God! What would she say if she knew he was wanted for murder?

But it was a murder you didn’t commit, whispered a voice.

He was a coward, he realized defeatedly. That was why he’d left Sam’s gang. It wasn’t just because he was tired of being hunted, tired of running … He’d left because he was afraid someone would catch up with him. He was afraid some gung-ho sheriff would shoot him. Or see that he hanged. He had nearly felt the rough hemp of a noose scraping his neck once … and that was a fear he’d never been able to conquer. He didn’t want to die …

And he was just as fearful of Abby, because she made him feel things he didn’t dare feel again.

Her eyes still hadn’t left his face. “You wouldn’t—do those things to me.” She moved so close he felt her chest expand in a deep, tremulous breath. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Kane. I know you wouldn’t. I—I trust you.”

He felt suddenly savage. “Come on, Abby. You think I’m sinful and corrupt, a piece of worthless scum. And I am. Shit, I—I’m no better than Stringer Sam!”

Her fingers jerked on the edge of the blanket “Don’t say that,” she cried. “Sam doesn’t have a conscience. He—he doesn’t even have a heart.”

He laughed, the sound brittle. “And what makes you think I do?”

She gave a stricken little cry. “God, how can you even ask that? Oh, you try to act so cold, so heartless, but you’re not—did you think I couldn’t feel the difference when you held me tonight? I—I’m not made of stone, and—and neither are you!”

He turned his back on her. Damn you, Abby, he raged inwardly. Don’t do this to me. Not here. Not now.

“And what about Sonny? Oh, I know it was silly to be so upset … but you—you buried him … for me … and then you took care of me, Kane … and no one as evil as Stringer Sam would do that for someone else …”

Her voice wobbled traitorously. “I didn’t even realize you’d left, and then when I did … I felt so guilty, because you didn’t have to do anything for me, but you did … And I was so worried with you out in that horrible storm … all I could think was … what if you were lying out there … hurt … alone …”

Kane swallowed, his jaw clenched tight, trying vainly to shut out the sound of her voice. God, he thought rawly. He’d been so convinced she wouldn’t even care—that she hadn’t even noticed he was gone …

“Oh, damn … What’s wrong with me? It’s starting all over again … I’m crying and—” She didn’t know her voice had already given her away. “—and I never cry, at least almost never …”

She choked back a sob. It was no use, the sound escaped, tearing Kane’s heart to shreds. She lowered her head, unable to see for the tears that blinded her. She stumbled and turned, her only intent started to get away before she shamed herself further. Only suddenly he was there.
Kane
.

And this time he wasn’t pushing her away.

Hard arms engulfed her. He crushed her against him. For the second time that night his thumbs grazed her cheeks, skimming the moisture away. With an effort, she willed away the last scalding rush of tears. His hands slid into her hair. Slowly he pulled her head back.

His expression was years beyond her experience. His eyes were fire-bright and glittering, a look that stole her breath and sapped the strength from her legs.
Hungry
was the only word that filled her mind.