The Outlaws: Rafe (23 page)

Cupping her breasts in his hands, he heard the quick intake of her breath as he tweaked her nipples, not hard, just enough to give her a jolt of pleasure/pain.
 
He kissed her ear and licked a trail of fire down the side of her neck and along her spine.
 
The heat of her bottom against his loins created a blazing inferno within him and he could wait no longer.

"Part your legs, sweetheart."

He heard her make a strangled sound deep in her throat as she did what he asked.
 
His fingers slid inside her.
 
She was hot and slick, wet and as ready for him as he was for her.
 
He lingered but a moment, stroking her deeply, drawing moisture from her core onto his fingers, struggling to control the surge of heat that cried for completion.

He entered her in one hard thrust, impaling her with the thick length of his shaft, hips locked together.
 
Perfect, he thought with a sigh.
 
She fit him like a glove, clasping him tightly in her wet sheath.
 
Easing himself out, he trust himself more deeply, then withdrew, in and out, harder, faster, deeper with each stroke.

He heard her whimper and he stiffened.
 
She sobbed his name, begging for release.
 
He felt something rise up inside him.
 
It swelled and broadened into a need he was hard put to explain.
 
He was suddenly desperate to keep this woman from harm, to protect her for as long as God gave him breath.
 
Then all thought ceased as Angela cried out, her body wracked by tremors.
 
Then it happened.
 
Everything that had been building inside him exploded.
 
Shimmering waves of scalding pleasure washed over him, through him.
 
Arching his neck, he shouted his ecstasy for all the world to hear.

He shuddered and collapsed against her.
 
Her knees gave way and he fell on top of her.
 
Aware that he was too heavy for her, he rolled away.
 
That was the last thing he remembered before he sank into oblivion.

Rafe awoke to broad daylight.
 
Panic swept through him, until he realized Angela was sleeping soundly beside him.
 
For a moment he feared...but no, where could she have gone?
 
She was right here, snuggled against him, her body warm and rosy from their loving.

He hadn't meant to sleep so long.
 
He'd left his horse near the cave, and though there was water within reach, the poor animal had no food.
 
Obviously he'd been more exhausted than he'd thought.
 
Then he remembered Baxter and knew he had to do something about the man.
 
He had no idea what he would do until he spoke with Baxter.

Beside him, Angel stirred, stretched, and opened her eyes.
 
She smiled up at him.
 
"What time is it?"

"We slept through the night."

She bolted upright.
 
"Oh, no!
 
You have to go.
 
I'll take Baxter to the sheriff after you're gone."

"Not on your life.
 
We're going to leave here together.
 
I'm not going to let you talk me out of taking you with me this time."

He rose and pulled on his clothes.
 
"I'll wash in the kitchen.
 
Pack your things after you've finished dressing.
 
We'll have breakfast before I decide what's to be done with Baxter.
 
I'll scout the kitchen and see what we can take with us.
 
Be sure and bring the cash you happen have on hand."

Rafe didn't give Angela time to object as he hurried out to the kitchen.
 
He was rifling through the cupboards and piling trail food on the kitchen table when he glanced out the window and spied Jim Cady, one of the miners, come rushing out of the mine, hollering at the top of his lungs and waving his hands as if he had just seen a ghost.

Rafe stifled a groan.
 
He hadn't counted on anyone finding Baxter before he decided what was to be done with the man.
 
He shouldn't have exhausted himself making love to Angel.
 
Then a thought struck him.
 
Why hadn't Cady released Baxter if he'd found him?
 
He was debating whether or not to expose himself to Cady when Angel came rushing from the bedroom.

"What is it?
 
What's all the commotion?"
 
She glanced out the window.
 
"That's Cady.
 
What's he saying?"

"I suspect he's found Baxter."

"Where is Baxter?"

Rafe shrugged.
 
"Beats me."

"Don't let him see you," Angela cautioned.
 
"I'll go out and see what's happening.'

Cady screeched to a halt when Angela stepped out onto the steps.
 
His skin was waxy and he was perspiring profusely.

 
"Baxter's dead.
 
Someone murdered him.
 
Shot him through the heart."

    
Angela's hand flew to her throat.
 
"No, you must be mistaken."

"He's dead, all right."
 
He started backing away, then he turned and ran for his horse.
 
"I gotta go for the sheriff," he shouted as he leapt aboard his horse and raced down the road.

Stunned, Angela returned to the house on shaking legs.
 
How could Baxter be dead?
 
The last time she saw him he was very much alive.
 
Suddenly it dawned on her that she wasn't the last person to see Baxter alive.
 
It was...

Rafe.

Oh God, why had he done it?
 
Why had Rafe killed Baxter?

"I heard," Rafe said, eyeing her warily.
 
"And I know what you're thinking."
 
He reached for her.

"No!
 
Don't touch me!
 
Why did you kill him?
 
No matter how despicable he was, killing him in cold blood wasn't right.
 
Oh, God, I don't even know you."

"Angel, I did not kill Baxter," he enunciated slowly.
 
"He was very much alive the last time I saw him."

She backed away, shaking so hard her knees were knocking.
 
"Don't lie!
 
Who else was there?
 
Only you and I knew Baxter was in the mine.
 
I never believed all those charges against you were true, but now..."

"Angel, you've got to believe me.
 
Don't turn your back on me now.
 
We've come too far."
 
He grasped her shoulders and felt her stiffen.
 
He released her immediately.
 
Her fear was so palpable he could almost taste it.

His eyes hardened to the color of stone, cold and gray and unforgiving.
 
"I thought I knew you but I was mistaken.
 
I won't stick around this time to protect you.
 
You're sole owner of the mine, now.
 
Your marriage to Baxter makes you his beneficiary.
 
I hope that makes you happy."

"I...I don't know what to say or think.
 
You were the last person inside the mine.
 
Baxter was alive when I left."

"You could say you don't think me capable of murder.
 
You could say you'll come with me when I leave here.
 
You could say...
 
Forget it.
 
What's the use.
 
I can see I'm wasting my time.
 
I hope you have no objection if I take some trail food from the kitchen with me."

Rafe couldn't believe this was happening.
 
Who in the hell had killed Baxter?
 
He hadn't a clue.
 
All he knew was the bastard was alive when he had left the mine to join Angel.
 
He should have known better than to think a woman like Angel would believe in him.
 
He had nothing to commend him.
 
No home, no money, a reputation he hadn't earned, and the law breathing down his neck.
 
But after all he and Angel had been through together, he couldn't help feeling raw and hurting after her hasty judgment of him.

They had just spent the night making love, for godsake!
 
Never would Rafe understand women.
 
This was the last time he'd ever let himself trust one.

"Take what you need," Angela said dully.
 
"I have some money..."

"No!" he all but shouted.
 
"No," he said, more reasonably.
 
"I don't want a damn cent of your money, lady.
 
And I'm going to prove to you that I no killer.
 
I'm not even a bank robber."

"Rafe, I'm sorry.
 
I'm just so confused.
 
If there had been anyone else here...
 
I need time to think."

"Time has run out, Angel.
 
You never were completely convinced that I'm not an outlaw.
 
There was always that tiny kernel of doubt I sensed in you.
 
Even when we made love you had a wary look in your eyes, as if you couldn't quite decide what or who I was."

"That's not true!"

 
"Then prove it.
 
Come with me now."

She took an involuntary step backward.
 
"I can't."

Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
 
"I didn't think you would."
 
He brushed past her and filled his pockets with food he'd already set out on the kitchen table.

"I'm taking feed for my horse with me."
 
Angela nodded.
 
He paused with his hand on the doorknob.
 
"Good-bye, Angel.
 
I've enjoyed the ride."
 
Then he was gone.

Angela stared at the door.
 
Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest as she blinked back the tears.
 
She wanted to run after Rafe, to tell him she knew he wasn't a killer, but her legs refused to move.

If Rafe hadn't killed Baxter, who did?
 
The logical part of her brain went through the litany of facts.
 
Baxter was going to kill Rafe.
 
She'd hit Baxter with a rock.
 
His bullet grazed her arm and Rafe escorted her to the mine's entrance.
 
Then he'd gone back inside to tie Baxter up.
 
He stayed a long time.
 
Too long.

Had Rafe shot Baxter?
 
What was his motive?
 
Revenge?
 
Did he hate Baxter for forcing her to marry him?
 
Whatever Rafe's motive, it wasn't enough to resort to murder.
 
Even as much as she hated Baxter for killing her father she couldn't kill him in cold blood.

On the other hand, she could have misjudged Rafe.
 
When she looked into his eyes she didn't see a killer.
 
She saw a man who had made a woman of her, a man who had taught her passion.

She saw a man with two faces.
 
An dangerous outlaw and a gentle lover.
 
Who was the real Rafe Gentry?
 
She hadn't wanted him to touch her after she'd learned Baxter was dead and she recalled the flash of pain her words had produced.
 
But she couldn't help it.
 
She'd always been a little confused where Rafe was concerned and this latest incident only added to her confusion.
 
Was she capable of loving a killer?
 

That question hung in the air like Autumn smoke, thick, suffocating, stifling her thought process.
 
Would she ever know the real Rafe Gentry?
 
Unlikely, she thought as she watched him make his way up the mountainside to the cave where he'd left his horse.
 
She watched until she could no longer see him, then turned away.
 
She went through the motions of fixing breakfast, though she wasn't hungry, and poured herself a cup of strong coffee.

Time passed.
 
She was staring at an uneaten biscuit, her thoughts a million miles away when she heard riders approaching the mine.
 
Her mind suddenly alert, she scraped back her chair, opened the door, and stepped outside.
 
She recognized the sheriff before he reined in at the mine entrance.
 
His deputy and Jim Cady were with him.
 
Cady lit a lantern, then all three disappeared inside.

Angel waited with baited breath for what seemed like an eternity before the men reappeared, this time carrying a body.
 
They laid the body on the ground and wrapped it in a blanket the sheriff retrieved from his saddle.
 
Cady and the deputy waited beside the body while a grim-faced Sheriff Diller walked over to where she was waiting.