The Outlaws: Rafe (31 page)

"Just how fond of me are you, Angel?" he growled against her lips.
 
"I know you enjoy making love with me, dare I hope for more?"

"The truth, Rafe Gentry, is that you're an insufferable, overbearing despot who doesn't deserve an answer.
 
You should know without being told how I feel about you.
 
I wouldn't allow intimacies with a man for anything less than love.
 
Even from the first I felt an affinity to you.
 
I looked into your eyes and knew you weren't capable of murder."

"Yet you thought I'd killed Baxter," he charged.

She bit her lip.
 
"That was my first reaction.
 
After I had time to think about it I knew I'd wronged you.
 
That's why I was so eager to prove you innocent of Baxter's murder.
 
I love you, Rafe.
 
I don't know if we'll ever find happiness together, but you deserve to know."

Incredible joy surged through Rafe.
 
Until he realized how utterly futile it all was.
 
"Oh, God, Angel, I'm so sorry our lives are in such a mess.
 
You'd be better off if we had never met.
 
I already had two strikes against me that day you saved my life.
 
Being accused of Baxter's death only muddied the waters.
 
I want to clear my name.
 
Returning to Dodge City is the first step in proving to you I'm not an outlaw."

She took his face between her hands and brought his mouth to hers.
 
Her kiss was gentle, forgiving, soothing.

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Rafe Gentry.
 
I believe you.
 
One day you'll prove to the world that you're a decent man."

They sank to the bedroll with mutual accord.
 
He covered her lips; her mouth opened to his hungry tongue.
 
She sighed, her head fell back, her throat arched.
 
With a hoarse groan he kissed the slender column, licked the salty sheen from the tender spot at its base.
 
She moved against him, as if to ease the tingling of her flesh as his fingers sought the wet heat between her thighs.
 
He probed the slick petals of her sex, spreading her, easing his erection inside, nearly mad with the need to possess her fully.

Angel.
 
His Angel.
 
She loved him.
 
God help her.
 
God help them both.

He entered her slowly.
 
She smiled at him, a knowing, womanly smile, opening herself wide to receive him.
 
She rocked against him, holding him tightly in the cradle of her slender arms and legs, squeezing him snugly inside her.
 
But it was not enough for Rafe.

Reversing their positions, he brought her on top of him, letting her set the pace as he feasted on her breasts dangling enticingly before his face.

Moving together in fierce possession, they strove for fulfillment, breaths mingling, voices raised in exultation.
 
The tension and hunger they felt for one another was nurtured and sustained by their searching mouths, and when the ultimate pleasure surged over them, Rafe buried himself deep within her, spilling himself inside her as her fingers dug whitely into his shoulders.
 
Tremors rippled through him into her, and she came with a loud cry, her body stretched taut, her head thrown back, neck arched, eyes tightly closed.

Massively overpowering emotions burned behind Rafe's eyes and deep within his heart as held his Angel tightly within the circle of his arms.
 
He knew intuitively that he would do whatever it took, go to any lengths to clear his name and give Angel the kind of life she deserved.

They rested the following day, stirring themselves only to eat, make love, bathe, and make love again.
 
After their evening meal Angel folded up their clean clothing and packed their saddlebags.
 
They left their private Eden early on the second morning.

Unwilling to risk being identified in Ordway, they gave the city a wide berth and continued into Kansas.
 
When they rode through a small border town, Rafe was pleased to note that no wanted posters bearing his likeness nor those of his brothers were prominently displayed.
 
In fact, the town lacked a sheriff and lawmen of any kind.
 
What it did have was a rather crude hotel.

"What do you say?" Rafe asked, giving the hotel a once over.
 
"Shall we spend the night in a real bed and eat a decent meal in a restaurant?"

"All I see is a Mexican cantina," Angela noted.

"Some pretty good food can be had in cantinas," Rafe said.
 
"I'm willing to give it a try if you are."

"A bed does sound good.
 
A bath in warm water sounds better.
 
Are you sure it's safe?"

"I seriously doubt anyone in this town has ever seen a wanted poster," Rafe assured her.
 
"It may be our last chance for a bed until we reach Dodge City."

Rafe checked them into the Siesta hotel and they were given the key to a room on the ground floor.
 
Apparently they were the only guests for the sleepy-eyed clerk seemed rather startled when Rafe asked if he had a vacant room.

"They're all vacant, mister," he said.
 
"Take your pick."

"You don't have many visitors pass through, do you?" Rafe observed.

"Not many.
 
Sometimes a few drovers passing through on their way back from a trail drive to the railhead will stop in, but this is the wrong time of year."

"We'd like a tub and hot water," Rafe said.

"That costs extra, mister, in advance.
 
So does the stable out back for your horses."

"I'll take the horses around back and bring in the saddlebags," Rafe told Angela as he dug in his pocket for money to pay their tab.
 
Before they'd entered the hotel, he'd taken some of the cash from Angel's saddlebags and stuffed it into his vest pocket.
 
"Wait here for me."

Rafe returned a few minutes later with their saddlebags and guided Angel down the dim hallway to their room.
 
Though sparsely furnished, the sheets and counterpane appeared clean, as did the curtains flapping in the breeze at the open window.
 
Rafe gazed longingly at the bed, dropped the saddlebags and flopped down on the quilted counterpane with a exaggerated sigh.
 
He grinned and held his hand out to Angela.

Further persuasion wasn't necessary as Angela joined him.
 
When he turned and reached for her, Angela pushed him away.

"No, not yet.
 
Baths first, then dinner."

"You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Gentry," Rafe growled.
 
"Very well, we'll do it your way, but I intend to put this bed to good use tonight."

The meal they purchased at the cantina after they each had bathed in the huge wooden tub dragged into their room by a young hotel employee was surprisingly good.
 
The only discordant note to the evening was when a rough looking character dressed in buckskins kept staring at Rafe.
 
He wore a week's growth of beard and his hair looked as if it hadn't seen a comb in days.
 
Angela must have noticed too for she insisted they leave before Rafe finished his coffee.

"I don't like the way that man looked at you," Angela said once they were back inside their room.

"He was looking at
you
," Rafe teased, trying to put her mind at ease.
 
He'd noticed the man himself and hoped he wasn't a bounty hunter.
 
That's all they needed now.

Rafe sauntered over and locked the door.
 
"I'm ready to make use of that bed now."

Rafe loved Angel with a fierceness that surprised even him.
 
The uncertainty of their future produced an urgency in him that drove everything from his mind but the woman clinging to him in sweet surrender.
 
His worries melted away when he heard Angel cry out and felt her body convulse around him.
 
Giving his own passion free rein, he spilled himself inside her.
 
Blissful moments passed as the last dregs of passion flowed from him into her.
 

 
Hugging Angel close against him, Rafe finally succumbed to the concern that had plagued him since spotting the stranger in the cantina.
 
He sensed danger.
 
Even now he felt it closing in on him.
 
He must have been loco to think he could single-handedly clear himself and his brothers of bank robbery charges.
 
He was beginning to think that bringing Angel with him was a mistake, that he was endangering her life instead of protecting it.

The longer Rafe thought about the stranger in the cantina the more certain he became that the man had recognized him.
 
He glanced at Angel.
 
She was sleeping soundly.
 
Carefully he extracted himself from her arms, rose, and dressed.
 
He was the kind of man who faced danger head on once he identified it.

The hotel lobby was deserted when Rafe walked past the desk and out the door.
 
He headed toward the cantina.
 
The stranger looked to be a drinking man and the last time Rafe had seen him he was sitting at a table with a bottle of tequila before him.
 
But he wasn't there now.
 
Rafe was a realist, he knew the man wouldn't leave town had he recognized Rafe.

He turned away from the cantina and retraced his steps back to the hotel.
 
Maybe he'd been wrong all along.
 
Maybe the man had been staring at Angel.
 
And maybe pigs fly, Rafe thought, disgruntled.
 
He recognized a bounty hunter when he saw one.

"Rafe Gentry?"

Rafe went for his weapon but the gun barrel pressing against his back was a powerful deterrent.

"That would be a mistake, mister," the disembodied voice behind him growled.
 
"Keep your hands where I can see them."

Rafe cursed the full moon that made him a target as well as his lack of attentiveness.
 
"Who are you?"

"Name's Clyde Dudley."

Rafe stifled a groan.
 
He knew Dudley, not personally, but he'd heard of him.
 
He was a bounty hunter, and a damned good one.
 
He'd heard that Dudley brought in more men than all the other bounty hunters combined.

"What do you want?" Rafe asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I've been waiting for you.
 
I knew you recognized me back there in the cantina, just as I recognized you."

Cautiously Dudley moved around until he was facing Rafe, his gun in one hand and a crumpled sheet of paper in the other.
 
He handed the paper to Rafe.
 
Rafe smoothed it out and saw his face and those of his brothers staring back at him.

"I'm not guilty," Rafe said.
 
"Neither are my brothers.
 
We were falsely accused."

"Sure you were," Dudley said with a smirk.
 
"I've been looking for you and your brothers for a long time.
 
It would be quite a coup to bring in all three Gentrys."

Rafe blanched.
 
"You haven't...
 
My brothers..."

"They're still at large.
 
Haven't been able to track them down.
 
Heard you were wanted over in Colorado for another crime so thought I'd head over there.
 
I can't believe I found you in a dump like this.
 
Who's the whore with you?"

Rafe stiffened at the insult.
 
"Leave her out of this," he bit out.

"Her name," Dudley persisted.
 
"Is she wanted?"

"Angela is my wife.
 
She's as innocent as the day is long."

Dudley gave a snort of laughter.
 
"Not if she married you, she isn't.
 
Where's your horse?"

"Stabled behind the hotel.
 
Why?"

"The closest sheriff is in Garden City.
 
I'll turn you in there and collect a tidy little reward for your capture."

Carefully Dudley removed Rafe's guns from his holster and stuck them in his belt.
 
"Don't try anything funny.
 
The reward says dead or alive."

Angela awoke with a start, aware that Rafe was no longer sleeping beside her.
 
Panic surged through her.
 
Call it intuition, call it the special bond linking her to Rafe, Angela knew Rafe was in trouble.
 
She rose quickly and dressed.
 
She was halfway out the door before deciding she might have need of a weapon.
 
She spied Rafe's rifle propped up beside his saddlebags and went back for it.