The Outlaws: Rafe (16 page)

"Reverend Conrad married them, all right."

"Shit!"

"But wait until you hear this.
 
The day she married Gentry, there was a rope around his neck and a lynch mob clamoring for his blood.
 
He was accused of robbing a stage and killing five witnesses.
 
Now here's the really strange part," Dexter confided.
 
"Angela claimed Gentry was her fiancé, the man she had come West to meet.
 
Somehow she made everyone believe Gentry was innocent, and Reverend Conrad backed her up.

"Then the preacher married them on the spot.
 
What do you make of that?"

"I think Angela must have been damn anxious to escape us if she married an outlaw."
 
Chandler shook his head.
 
"I can't believe she'd do something so reckless.
 
If she's legally married, there's not much we can do about it."

"You bet your ass there's something we can do," Dexter contended.
 
"The wheels are already in motion.
 
While I was in Ordway the sheriff received a new batch of wanted posters.
 
Guess who's wanted for bank robbery in Dodge City?"

Chandler raised his glass in a silent toast.
 
"I hope it's Rafe Gentry."

"It is.
 
It appears that he and his two brothers robbed a bank in Dodge City a while back.
 
I've convinced Sheriff Tattersal that Gentry tricked him, with Angela's unwitting help, of course.
 
He now believes that Gentry really did rob the stage and kill five people.
 
I explained that I was Angela's guardian, and that Gentry wasn't her fiancé.
 
I had a hard time convincing Tattersal not to include Angela in the new wanted poster he's circulating for Gentry's arrest."

"How did you do that?"

"I painted Angela as a religious fanatic willing to go to any lengths save souls and prevent social injustice.
 
He bought my story."

"So what do we do now?
 
No matter who or what Gentry might be, he and Angela are still married."

"That's not all I learned in Ordway," Dexter said, lowering his voice.
 
"Reverend Conrad's wagon was attacked by renegade Comanche warriors somewhere between Ordway and Garden City.
 
They were both killed and their wagon burned.
 
That means the church register he carried with him no longer exists.
 
As far as I'm concerned, no legal marriage exists."

"I agree," Chandler said with growing excitement.
 
"What are we going to do about Gentry?"

"I picked up the wanted poster in Ordway.
 
I'm going to show it to the sheriff here and collect the reward once Gentry's in custody."

This time both men raised their glasses in a silent toast.

A premonition of doom plagued Rafe as he sat down to the lunch Angel had prepared.
 
The feeling had been with him for the past week.
 
He knew intuitively that time was growing short for him.
 
No matter how badly he wanted to stay with Angel, his feared the consequences.

For one thing, Chandler and Dexter were a pair of loose canons, still out there somewhere just waiting for the opportunity to take him down.
 
Then there was Brady Baxter, who wanted nothing more than to be rid of him.
 
Complicating matters were the wanted poster circulating with his picture on them.
 
Every day he expected the sheriff to come pounding on the door.

Then there was Angel to consider.
 
He could tell by the way she looked at him that she was unconvinced of his innocence.
 
He'd do anything to put trust back into her eyes.
 
She was watching him now, as if she didn't know what to make of him.

"I'm not going to bite you," he said as she slid into the seat across from him.

"I know.
 
It's just that...
 
I'm so confused.
 
Perhaps you should go into town and speak to the sheriff, explain what happened.
 
I don't even know why you and your brothers were accused of bank robbery."

"Would you like to know?"

She nodded slowly.

"Very well.
 
It happened in Dodge City.
 
My brothers and I were trying to make a go of the family farm after the war but draught all but ruined us.
 
We applied for a loan at the local bank and were turned down flat.
 
Then the banker..."

He paused, someone was pounding on the door.

"Gentry, open up!"

"It's Baxter, probably with another offer to buy me out," Angela said.
 
"I wish that mine expert would get here soon."

Rafe felt a strange tingling at the back of his neck.
 
"Wait," he said, strapping on his guns.
 
"I'll open the door."

Angela was hard on his heels as he strode to the door and flung it open.
 
"What do you want, Baxter?"

"Just this," Baxter said, shoving the wanted poster in Rafe's face.
 
"Picked it up at the bank this morning."

He heard Angela gasp and winced.
 
Keeping his expression purposely blank, he said, "I've seen it, thank you."

Rafe glanced past Baxter, wondering why the bastard hadn't brought the law with him.
 
"Where's the law?"

"If that stupid sheriff can't find you on his own, why should I help him?"

"For the reward," Rafe bit out.

"There is that," Baxter mused.
 
"But I have something altogether different in mind.
 
I scoured the town and removed all the posters I could find."

"Why would you do that?" Angela asked curiously.

Rafe unease intensified.
 
Men like Baxter did no favors without wanting something in return.
 
"What do you want, Baxter?"

"That's easy enough.
 
Sell me Simon Abbot's share of the mine and I'll keep mum about this.
 
Change your name.
 
You and Angela can settle someplace where no one will recognize you."

"I told you, the mine's not mine to sell.
 
It's up to Angel, and she doesn't want to sell."

"Don't be so hasty," Baxter said.
 
"Let's hear what the little lady has to say.
 
If she doesn't agree, I'm going straight to the law."

Angela gazed at Rafe, noted his stony expression, and her heart fell.
 
How could she make a choice between Rafe and the mine?
 
What did he want her to do?
 
His expression gave away nothing of what he felt, what he expected of her.

"Rafe, I...perhaps I should..."

"No, Angel, I won't let you do it.
 
The mine is yours.
 
Let Baxter go to the law.
 
I won't be here when he returns.
 
You're innocent in all this.
 
You had no idea I was wanted in Dodge City when you married me.
 
As for the other, I like to think you believed in my innocence."

"What other?" Baxter asked sharply.

"Nothing," Rafe said.
 
"You have your answer.
 
Angela isn't going to sell out to you."

"If that's the way you want it," Baxter growled, clearly not happy with the decision.
 
"I'm going after the sheriff."

"Don't expect me to wait around for you."

"I could take you in myself."

Rafe's mirthless grin held an unspoken challenge.
 
"Go ahead, try it."

"You're too damn cocky, Gentry.
 
A stay in prison will rid you of that."

Baxter spun on his heel and made a hasty retreat.
 
A few minutes later Angela saw him riding hell for leather down the road toward town.

Panic-stricken, Angela clutched desperately at Rafe's arm.
 
"Why didn't you let me sell?"

"Because you love it here.
 
Whether or not the mine is played out isn't important.
 
Your father wanted you to have the mine, I won't let you to sell out on my account."

"You're leaving."
 
It was a statement of fact, not a question.

"I have to."

"You say you're innocent.
 
Let me help you prove it."

He closed the door and turned to face her.
 
"I won't let you embroil yourself in my problems, Angel."

She flung herself into his arms.
 
"Oh, God, Rafe, why does it have to end this way?"

He pulled her against him.
 
She felt his tension, his indecision, and responded with reckless desperation as she flung her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for her kiss.

Abruptly she broke off the kiss and gave him a little shove.
 
Her voice held a note of panic.
 
"Go!
 
Don't let me stop you."

He seemed in no hurry as he lowered his head and caught her lips, kissing her until her head spun and she grew giddy and faint.
 
When he swung her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, Angela feared he had lost his mind.

"There's no time!"

There's plenty of time," he whispered against her lips.
 
"You don't think the sheriff will come up here alone, do you?
 
He'll want a posse to back him up, and that takes time."

Angela opened her mouth to protest but Rafe filled it with his tongue.
 
A moan slipped past her throat as he deepened the kiss, tasting her more fully.
 
Their mouths still joined, he lowered her to the bed and followed her down.

A rush of heat seared through her.
 
Her senses stretched, reached, then stirred into pounding awareness.
 
This was Rafe, the man who had made tender love to her, the man who had made her first time memorable.
 
She didn't want to believe Rafe could be a killer.
 
She didn't want to think at all.
 
She wanted to feel.

Her fingers flew to his chest, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.
 
He pushed her hands aside and tore off his shirt, scattering buttons.
 
Lifting away from her, he kicked off his boots and skinned his trousers down his legs.

"I want you naked," he said in a voice made husky with desire.
 
"I need to feast my eyes on you."

Together they rid her of her clothing, until they were both gloriously naked and panting with need.
 
Angela stared at his erection; it was heavy and pulsing, rising upright against his stomach.
 
He lowered himself against her.
 
She stroked the contours of his strong back, then dug her fingers into the muscles of his hips.
 
He was so strong, she thought, yet vulnerable to her touch.
 
No matter where she touched he reacted as if she had set fire to something deep and needy inside him.

 
His mouth was like a warm drug upon her skin as he spread tender kisses over her flesh, teasing her, goading her into a response.
 
His manhood pulsed heavily against her thigh and she parted her trembling legs for him.
 
She needed to feel him inside her.
 
Now.
 
If this was to be her last time with Rafe, she wanted to remember this moment forever.

"Not yet," Rafe rasped as his mouth continued to spread searing flames across her flesh.
 
Her breasts, her nipples, nothing was left unattended as he kissed and nibbled and turned her body to quivering jelly.

She reached down and touched him.
 
He convulsed and groaned as she brought him to her entrance.
 
"Rafe, please!"

Heaving a sigh of acquiescence, Rafe lodged himself between her thighs and eased himself upward until his shaft was pressing against her.
 
Then he reached down, opened her with his fingers and slowly pushed himself into her snug channel.

Rafe wanted to shout for joy.
 
Blood flowed to that part of him buried inside her, feeding his arousal.
 
She was wet and slippery and so damn hot he nearly lost it.
 
His face was a dark mask of self-imposed constraint as he grasped her hips and turned with them still joined.
 
She was astride him now, staring down at him with a surprised look on her face.

"Ride me, Angel.
 
I'm all yours."