People began wandering toward the doorways that led into the theater.
Reaching down, Rawley snatched Callie up into his arms. “We can’t have you getting lost,” he told her. He shifted her over so he could support her with one arm, then reached down and threaded his fingers through Faith’s.
Yes, people were bound to notice she was glowing like a star-filled sky, but she couldn’t help it. He made her feel treasured.
The crowd was meandering in, searching for empty seats. Rawley began leading her along the edge, past people who were arguing about where to sit until he came to a row with several empty seats near the front. She sashayed by him and took the third seat from the end. He started to put Callie in the middle one, but she clung to his neck like a monkey.
“No! Hold me,” she demanded.
Giving Faith a wry smile, he slid into the seat beside her and settled Callie on his lap.
Faith grinned teasingly. “She does have you wrapped around her finger.”
“No more so than her mother.”
The lights were dimmed. The violins played. The moving picture began rolling.
She heard a crack, smelled the sarsaparilla, and without thought held out her hand. Rawley dropped a smaller than usual piece onto her palm. Glancing over, she saw that Callie was already sucking on her piece. With a wink, Rawley slipped his into his mouth. Looking at this man with her daughter tightened her heart.
The black and white images flickering on the screen mesmerized her, although not nearly as much as the man sitting beside her, who had reached over and once again taken her hand. She had about twenty minutes of just watching him inconspicuously before the film came to an end. But the entire time, the hairs on the nape of her neck bristled. Once she glanced around the room striving to determine who might be staring at her or what might be causing her unease but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
As they made their way out of the theater, she studied her surroundings, the people moving about. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone familiar—
Turning her head quickly, she hoped to get a better view but lost sight of him. Still, he couldn’t be who she thought he was, he couldn’t be Cole. He wouldn’t dare show his face around here and risk having to deal with her father—or with her, for that matter. She’d been too shocked and ashamed to confront him before, but if their paths ever crossed again, he’d discover she was no longer the girl she’d been. That she now possessed a toughness—
“What is it?” Rawley asked.
“I thought I saw—” She shook her head. It was just her imagination toying with her because she was no longer letting the man dominate her thoughts, because she was moving beyond him with Rawley. Maybe a part of her wanted him to see that he no longer held any sway over her. “Nothing. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I’m just tired.”
“I reckon you’ll get sleep tonight.”
She looked at her daughter, nestled against his shoulder, and was tempted to send her home with her parents, but Callie was her responsibility. She and Rawley would just have to figure out a way to be together in a manner that didn’t have her little one catching them alone together. “I imagine I will.”
On the drive home, Callie sat in her lap, doing all the talking she hadn’t done during the movie. Although she hadn’t been able to read the dialogue cards, she’d been fascinated watching the actors moving about on the screen. And she had lots to share about it as though they hadn’t seen it as well.
When they arrived at the cabin, Rawley walked her and Callie up the steps to the door. Rufus came around the corner to greet them. Faith opened the door, and the hound bounded in, Callie racing after him, which gave her a moment alone with Rawley.
“Thank you for being so good to her,” she said.
“She’s like her mother. Easy to love.”
Dear Lord, she wished this man was her daughter’s father.
“Mama!” Callie called out.
“I have to go,” Faith told him.
He slipped his forefinger beneath her chin, tipped up her face, and brushed a kiss over her lips. “Dream of me.”
Laughing, she watched as he strolled to the buggy, giving her a view of his fine broad shoulders. She was most definitely going to dream about him.
Faith was just drifting off into a light sleep when she heard the horse’s nicker outside her bedroom window. Every nerve ending bolted awake as she shot up in bed, her heart pounding so hard she wouldn’t have been surprised if whoever was outside heard it. Barely breathing, not moving another muscle, she listened intently. The huff of noise had been too close to be her horse, enclosed in the corral not too far from the cabin.
The sense of foreboding she’d experienced at the theater had stayed with her, so she’d left the flame in the lamp on the bedside table burning low, which made reaching for the gun resting beside it an easy matter. Her heart slowed and her breathing eased as her fingers closed around the cool ivory handle. Sliding out from between the sheets, she didn’t make a sound when her bare feet landed on the rough braided rug. The curtains were thick enough that the person sneaking around outside wouldn’t be able to catch even a glimpse of her shadow, wouldn’t know a reckoning was making its way toward him.
She hadn’t left any lamps burning in the front room. The curtains weren’t as thick. Moonlight filtered through the fabric lighting her way. She looked in on Callie, grateful to see she and Rufus were snug and asleep in her bed. Quietly she pulled the door closed.
When she reached the front door, she pressed her ear against the wood and listened. Silence. Eerie. Thick. Heavy. Unnatural. Not even a cricket chirping. Then the barest of noises came to her, from across the room, near the kitchen window. Someone was moving around along the side of the cabin.
Slowly, she unlocked the door, released the latch, and eased the portal open. Enough moonlight existed to show nothing skittering about. Knowing the planks well, which ones creaked and which didn’t, she stepped onto the porch in absolute silence.
A crackling as dry leaves were disturbed caught her attention. The horse made a quick snort. A man’s low voice followed. No doubt trying to silence the beast. She found it odd he’d kept the animal with him if he was trying to sneak up on her, but it was quite possible the man was a bullet or two shy of having a loaded gun.
She crept along the porch, her back skimming along the wall of the house. When she got to the edge, she peered around the corner.
Definitely a horse. And a man. A man crouched down, spreading out a pallet. Slipping her finger off the trigger, she stepped down from the porch. “What the hell—”
Rawley jerked upward and spun around so fast that she might have laughed had he not also drawn his gun from his holster in a practiced move that demonstrated his quick reflexes and his deadly aim because it was now pointing at her. “Goddamn it, Faith! You know better than to sneak up on a man.”
“And you know better than to be where you’re not expected. I damn near filled you full of lead.”
With a flourish that spun his gun around twice, he seated it comfortably back in the leather holster. “I just decided to keep watch.”
The sigh she released was filled with as much love as it was with frustration. “I appreciate that, but I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute, but I don’t like the idea of you being out here alone.” He grimaced. “I know Callie’s here, but she’s not going to be a good deal of help if there’s trouble.”
He narrowed his eyes, moved his head forward a tad as though trying to get a better look. “Are you wearing my shirt?”
“It smells like you,” she said.
He grinned. “The real thing smells better.”
“You’re not going to go back to the house, are you?”
“Nope.”
“You might as well come inside.”
“You know what’s going to happen if I do.”
She gave him her sauciest smile. “If I’m lu
cky, you’re going to take this shirt off me.”
Chapter Fifteen
With a soft sigh and a moan, Faith burrowed more snugly against Rawley. She could get used to waking up each morning with his arms around her, his scent filling her nostrils.
“Morning,” he said, his voice low and raspy, not quite as awake as other parts of his body.
Tilting her head back, she smiled at him. “Morning.”
“I need to sneak out before Callie wakes up.”
“She may already be up. I heard the front door—”
Rufus’s barks filled the air.
She groaned, buried her face in the curve of his neck. “Yep. They’re up.”
“I don’t suppose we have time to greet the day proper.”
“I would like nothing better than to make love to you, but the fella who lived in this cabin before me didn’t put a lock on the bedroom door. And Callie will just burst through because never before has there been a reason for her to knock.”
“How are we going to explain my being here?”
Rufus barked louder.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t ask.”
“Faith, she’s going to ask.” The barking grew in volume and intensity. “That girl is curious—”
More frantic barking.
“Something’s wrong.” Faith threw back the covers and scrambled out of the bed.
Rawley didn’t question her. Just snatched up his pants, but she didn’t wait on him. She drew her nightdress over her head because it was the quickest way to cover herself up. Not knowing what kind of critter had Rufus riled, she grabbed her pistol from the bedside table and ran. Her legs had never churned so fast.
The front door was open. She rushed through it, staggered to a stop.
A man was kneeling on one knee, his arm locked around Callie, holding her firmly between his legs. While she was struggling, it was obvious she couldn’t break free.
“Mama!”
The man looked familiar but his nose was so misshapen—crooked and bent, nearly flat in the middle—that he hardly resembled the bastard who’d taken advantage of her.
“Let her go,” she ordered.
Rawley stumbled to a stop at her back.
“Well, well, what have we here?” the man said, and his voice caused the short hairs on the nape of her neck to rise.
“Let her go, Cole.”
“I don’t think so.” He waved a gun in his other hand then pointed it at Callie.
Faith swore her heart stopped.
“If either of you do anything stupid—”
“You’re her father, Cole.”
For the span of a heartbeat, he appeared stunned, then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“What do you want, Berringer?” Rawley asked pointedly.
“What do I want? I want my life back!”
He pointed the gun at Faith, and Rawley stepped in front of her quickly before she could even blink. He hadn’t bothered to take the time to put on a shirt or his boots. Glancing down, she saw the gun he’d tucked into the waistband of his pants. She went to move around him, but his arm shot out, stopping her from going forward.
“And I want the damn dog to stop barking!”
“Rufus, play dead,” Faith yelled. The dog whined. “Play dead,” she ordered, and he rolled onto his side.
“That’s impressive,” Cole said.
“Grampa and me taught him,” Callie said innocently, not truly understanding the dire danger she was in or that her life was at risk.
“Aren’t you a clever girl?” Cole said.
“Let her go, Cole,” Faith said. “We can sort this out.”
“She’s my leverage. I’d planned to use you, Faith. But he’s”—he nodded toward Rawley—“been sticking to your side ever since he got back. Even cutting the wire couldn’t separate you from Cooper. Then I saw you with this little tadpole last night—”
“You were at the theater,” Faith stated with conviction.
“With it belonging to your family, I figured you’d be there, that maybe I could get you alone. But once I saw her, I decided she’d be easier to handle. You’ve got too much fight in you, Faith. How does it feel, Cooper, knowing I had her first?”
She could see the tenseness in Rawley’s muscles as he shrugged. “How does it feel knowing you’ve viewed your last sunrise?”
Cole laughed, a hideous sound. “A cowboy to the end, talking big. Except I’m holding all the cards.”
“But like Faith said, she’s your daughter. Once that sinks in you’re not going to hurt her, no matter how much of a low-down skunk you are. Me, on the other hand—” Rawley stepped down from the porch and spread his arms wide. “I’m not armed. You let her go into the house and I’ll drop to my knees right here. Then if your terms—whatever the hell they are—aren’t met, killing me won’t stop you from sleeping at night.”
She was fairly certain that as soon as Callie was free, Rawley would be reaching for his gun—but with Cole’s already drawn, Rawley’s chances of hitting Cole before Rawley took a bullet weren’t good. He had to know that.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Cole said.
Although he didn’t release his hold on Callie, he seemed to be pondering his options, and Faith was thinking as well. Her gun was hidden in the folds of her nightdress. If he’d seen it, he would have ordered her to toss it. With him holding Callie as he was, she couldn’t ensure she wouldn’t hit her daughter. And even if she could hit him with unerring accuracy, did she want Callie to see a man shot before her eyes, to have his blood spraying over her? Did she want Callie to grow up with those images locked in her memory? If there was no other choice—
Cole finally nodded. “On your knees.”
“Release her first,” Rawley insisted.
“After you’re on your knees. And put your hands up.”
With little more than a glance back at her that reflected all the love he held for her—as though he knew it might be the final time he looked at her—Rawley did as ordered. Faith wanted to stop him but needed Callie out of danger. Everything within her wanted to scream, rant, and rave, but she held her silence as she continually evaluated the situation.
When Rawley’s knees hit the dirt, Cole released Callie and gave her a little shove. “Go to your mama.”
Callie raced to her, hugged her legs. Rufus saw that as his signal to no longer play dead and loped over to the steps. Without taking her eyes off Cole, Faith placed her hand on Callie’s head. “Go into the house. Uncle Rawley’s shirt is in my bedroom. There’s a sarsaparilla stick in the pocket. It’s yours. The whole thing.” That would keep her occupied for a while. “I want you to stay in my bedroom with the door closed until Uncle Rawley or I come for you—no matter what you hear, you don’t come out. Take Rufus with you.”
“Come on, Rufus!” her little girl yelled before dashing into the house.
Faith heard a distant door slam shut and breathed a sigh of relief. For a little while her daughter was safe. “All right, Cole, now that you’ve got our attention, what is it you want?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“I don’t have ten thousand dollars.”
“Your father does. You see what he did to my face? Beat it to a pulp. I can’t even get a woman to look at me, much less fuck me.”
Knowing her father, she had suspected he’d delivered a blow or two when he told her he’d taken care of Cole.
“Your lack of success with the ladies might have more to do with the way you treat them,” she said, not bothering to tamp down her disgust for him.
“You were playing hard to get and always talking about him.” He waved his gun at Rawley. “His stupid postcards, his letters, all the places he went, the things he saw.”
“I didn’t deserve what you did.”
“I never had a woman complain.”
Her stomach roiled. “I wasn’t the first you forced?”
“You were the first to go to her daddy. Taking his fists to me and
kicking me out of town wasn’t enough for him. Somehow he managed to arrange it so I can’t get any loans or any investors. Even my family won’t help.”
“He’s a powerful man,” Rawley said, “with a lot of influence in this state.”
“Am I talking to you?” Then Cole jerked his attention back Faith. “I haven’t been able to drill a single well since I left here. I’m ruined. So I want that money. You can go and get it, but if you bring anyone back here, he’s dead.”
“She’s not getting you the money. She’s not going anywhere. But you are. You’re going straight to hell.” Rawley lunged to the side, reaching back for his gun as he did so—
Cole fired. Faith screamed as Rawley went still. She rushed over to him, lifted his head into her lap, pressed her hand to his shoulder where the blood was oozing.
“You get him?” Rawley whispered.
She looked over at Cole. He barked out a laugh. “Looks like I’m just as good at killing rattlesnakes.”
Then Cole’s gaze went to his shirt where the red blossomed out. Blinking in disbelief, he stared at her. She’d been so worried about Rawley that she barely registered firing her Colt. His gun slipped from his fingers as though he no longer had control over them. Slowly he crumpled to the ground.
Faith turned her attention back to Rawley. “Yeah. I got him.”
He grinned. “That’s my girl.”
“He could have killed you. I don’t know what you were thinking,” Faith said as she paced.
Rawley was sitting on the back veranda of her parents’ house, his arm in a sling. She’d bandaged his shoulder as tightly as she could to stop the bleeding, helped him into a shirt, and tossed a quilt over Cole so Callie wouldn’t see him. Her daughter had accepted Faith’s tale that the man had decided to take a nap.
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