If you do this you'll be no better than the two of them ... The stricken little cry reverberated in his head, over and over.
He tried to close his mind to it. He covered her mouth with his, his kiss rough, almost bruising. He filled his palms with her buttocks and lifted her, grinding her against the part of him that ached for her the most.
You'll be no better than they are.
The taunt tore through his mind again. Chester and Jake. Sweet Jesus. He was already no better than those two scoundrels. He was worse ... worse!
She just didn't know it yet.
Slowly he lifted his head. His breathing was harsh and scraping. "If you don't want this to go any farther, now's the time to say the word."
His expression was dark and tense. She'd felt the explosion of violence in his kiss, as if he'd suddenly wanted something more from her, something she didn't wholly understand. Sensing the sudden darkness of his mood, she drew a deep, shaky breath. Her fingers clutched at the pink ribbons on her chemise.
It was all the answer Kane needed.
"You'd better get some sleep."
She stared at him, confused by his curtness, confused by her body's wanton response to his kiss. Her tongue came out to touch her lips, swollen and moist from his mouth. "Kane—"
He clenched his teeth. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was teasing him! "Now, Abby."
"But—"
"Now. Before I change my mind!"
His features were closed and inscrutable, somehow fierce. He picked up Chester's rifle and stalked to the edge of the camp.
For the second night in a row, she fell asleep struggling against tears ... and not knowing why.
Abby opened her eyes to brilliant, sun-washed sky the next morning. She lay motionless, aware of an unaccustomed ache in her muscles; the events of the night before flooded back in rampant remembrance. She turned her head slightly and spied Kane.
He must have started a fire this morning, for he was crouched before it, a cup of coffee cradled in his palms. He must have sensed her scrutiny, for he chose that moment to raise his head.
Their eyes collided.
The silence was stifling. The entire world seemed to be holding its breath as time raged on. Staring at him in the cold light of day, Abby found it difficult to believe this was the man who had held and comforted her, then kissed her with such fire and passion. His expression was coolly remote. He appeared dangerous and unapproachable, his jaw shadowed with a bristly growth of beard. Apparently he'd just come from the stream. Hs hair was wet and his shirt hung open, revealing the dense mat of hair on his chest. All at once she could scarcely draw in enough air to breathe.
Abby was the first to drag her gaze away. Kane stared at the fire while she rose, her movements rather stiff. The morning air was chill, though the blaze of the sun promised another scorching day. She kept the blanket draped around her shoulders for modesty's sake. It had been too dark last night to search her saddlebags for a clean shirt and chemise. Her steps carried her without volition to the fire. She shivered a little and stretched out her hands toward the crackling flames, feeling awkward and unsure of herself.
"Coffee?" Kane didn't look at her as he spoke.
"No, thank you. I think I'll just go wash up." Her tone was carefully neutral.
At the stream, she dropped her clean clothes on a rock and sat down to pull off her boots. She wasted no time pulling off her ruined shirt and chemise. She started to reach for her clean chemise, then stopped, her gaze riveted longingly on the stream. She'd meant to merely rinse her face and hands, but the heat and two days of travel had left her feeling dusty and sweaty. She couldn't remember when she'd been so dirty! The water lapped her toes, clear and cool and inviting. On impulse she stripped completely, grabbed her soap and waded into the stream.
At first the bite made her gasp, but she ventured further, until the water nearly reached her shoulders. She ducked under, immersing herself completely. She worked the soap into a lather and quickly washed her hair and her body. Although it felt heavenly, she resisted the impulse to linger. Using her torn chemise as a washcloth, she hurriedly scrubbed herself. She left the stream regretfully a few minutes later.
She'd just struggled into her chemise and drawers when a prickly unease tickled her spine. She whirled, some sixth sense warning her she wasn't alone.
Kane sat on the bank, some twenty feet distant, a rifle propped on his knees.
Disbelief warred with dismay; a ready anger surged to the fore.
She snatched up her shirt and clutched it to her breast, glaring her displeasure. "If you were a gentleman, you wouldn't stand there gawking."
Kane met her regard calmly. He'd have turned his back if she'd asked, but as usual her tartness got his dander up. He didn't bother to tell her he wasn't about to leave her alone after what happened last night. He knew she'd never believe him.
His insolent gaze wandered slowly down the slender length of her legs and back to her face. A derisive smile touched his lips. "As I recall, it seems to me I did act the gentleman last night."
At his pointed reminder, Abby's cheeks began to burn. He was right, but did he have to be so—so arrogant about it? "A gentleman wouldn't remind me of that!"
"I never claimed to be a gentleman, which reminds me... Seems to me that for a married lady, you were pretty damned eager to cozy up to me last night."
Abby blanched. Heaven help her, she had liked it when he kissed her. She'd loved the way he'd made her feel, all tight and tingly inside, yet at the same time all hot and liquid. She'd loved the feel of his hands on her breasts, teasing her nipples to tingling erectness. She'd even found herself wondering what his mouth would feel like there.
Deep inside she was appalled. She hadn't thought a lady was capable of such wanton thoughts. Dear Lord! What was wrong with her?
But she didn't want to think about that right now—she didn't want to think about him.
"I wasn't myself last night, Kane," she defended herself weakly. "And I don't appreciate you making it sound as if it was all my fault!"
"I didn't see you trying to stop me," he drawled. "But I guess I can understand your predicament, being without your husband and all." His insolent gaze settled on her breasts, reminding her of all he'd seen ... and touched. "Just let me know if you change your mind. I'll be happy to stand in for him any time, sweetheart, any time."
Abby was too shocked to say a word. Oh, but he was cruel and jaded, rude and abrasive. God, how she hated him!
Chapter 7
They left the shadow of the mountains behind that very morning. On either side of the trail they followed, sun-baked plains rolled and dipped clear to the horizon, blending with the sky. The air was laden with the scent of summer grass, undulating wildly beneath the ceaseless caress of the wind. Even while Abby acknowledged a strange, awesome beauty to the scene spread out before her, a yawning hollowness swelled inside her. It seemed as if the edge of forever stretched endlessly before them, empty and forlorn.
Late afternoon they came upon a modest farmhouse nestled in a small basin, faded and weather- beaten. Texas bluebonnets sprouted next to the house. Several shirts flapped lazily on a clothesline. Nearby was a small corral. Between the house and the barn was a well-tended garden.
A wiry, middle-aged man stood just inside the corral, watching their approach. Kane tipped his hat.
"Afternoon," he called out. "Mind if we water our horses?"
"Help yourself." The man stepped through the gate and gestured toward a trough filled with water. He shut the gate and ventured toward them.
Kane swung down from Midnight. He turned toward Abby but she had already swung her leg over the pommel and leaped lightly from Sonny's back. For the space of a heartbeat, their eyes clashed.
Abby lifted her chin and turned to the man. "We appreciate your hospitality, Mr...."
"Willis. Amos Willis." He shook the hand she extended.
"I'm Abigail, and this is Kane." Abby smiled warmly. "I h
ate to trouble you further, Mr. Willis, but is there a well where I could get a drink?"
"Sure 'nough is, ma'am, right around the side of the house. Just help yourself."
She pulled Sonny to the trough, then walked toward the spot he'd indicated. It didn't take long to pull up a bucket of water from the well. Abby filled the dipper with fresh, cool water and drank thirstily. The top few buttons of her shirt were undone against the heat, so she dipped her neckerchief into the water and wiped her face and neck. She sighed. The damp coolness felt deliciously refreshing.
The two men were busy talking when she rejoined them. Kane paid her no heed. Feeling piqued and determined not to let him get the better of her, she focused her attention on Amos, who hitched his thumbs in his suspenders and shook his head.
"Like I said, only man's been through here rode out before dawn. Spent the night in my barn, he did. Real pleasant fella—from Laramie I believe he said. I saw a badge in his saddlebag, so I 'spect he was a deputy or some such."
Abby felt as if all the wind had been knocked from her lungs. For one paralyzing moment she could neither move nor breathe.
She heard Kane's voice as if from a very great distance. "A deputy from Laramie, eh? Pretty far from home, I'd say."
"That's what I thought, too. I thought he was headin' home, but when he left, he rode out to the north."
There was a horrible constriction in Abby's throat. Her mind was racing in tandem with her heart. Kane couldn't possibly fail to make the connection—he would know Dillon was an officer of the law ...
The two talked for a few minutes more. Abby longed to sink beneath the earth, never to be seen again. In a daze she heard Kane thanking Amos. He turned to Abby.
"I think it's time we moved on, don't you, Abigail?"
Strong fingers dug into her waist. She was bodily lifted and set on Sonny's back. She caught a glimpse of his profile as he swung away; his features bore no trace of emotion, but Abby wasn't fooled. His steely calm masked a seething tension. She'd felt it with every sense she possessed when he helped her into the saddle.
He slapped Sonny sharply on the rump and they were off.
Apprehension tightened every muscle in her body. She half-expected Kane to whirl on her the minute they were out of earshot. But they rode hard for nearly half an hour, so long she began to think perhaps she'd misjudged Kane. She began to relax, a subtle softening within her. Maybe, she decided cautiously, it had been silly to dread Kane discovering that Dillon was Laramie's marshal. Maybe he wasn't as heartless and insensitive as she'd thought. In fact, maybe it was time she gave him credit for . . .
A strong brown hand shot out and grabbed Sonny's bridle. They halted so abruptly she nearly pitched over the gelding's head. By the time she'd gathered her wits about her, Kane was off Midnight's back and standing before her.
Her heart lurched sickeningly. Kane said nothing, merely pinned her with the relentless glitter of his eyes. It vaulted through her mind that this was the calm before the storm. She wanted to plead with him that she'd had no choice. She'd been afraid he wouldn't help her if she told him the truth! But his grim countenance robbed her of the inclination.
Oddly, he made no move to touch her. His stance was supremely arrogant, his legs planted wide apart, his shoulders as wide as the mountains they'd left behind.
"Off," was all he said.
Abby's mouth went dry as dust. His tone was deceptively soft. Dismay shot through her. She was distinctly wary of the predatory air that lurked about him.
"If you're smart," he said in that same deadly soft tone, "you'll do what I say, Abigail."
A low-grade panic touched her spine. Abby clutched the reins more tightly. Sonny began to back away.
"We can't stop now, Kane." She tried to reason with him. "Didn't you hear Mr. Willis? Dillon stayed in his barn last night! We're less than a day behind. Dammit, we can't afford to waste any time!"
The next thing she knew she'd been yanked off Sonny's back. Her head swam dizzily.
Kane's hands came down on her shoulders like iron clamps. "Seems to me Dillon can take care of himself." He spoke through clenched teeth. "Especially considering he's a goddamned deputy!"
Abby blanched. The very air seemed to thunder with his rage. "No," she gasped. "He's not! He's—"
"Don't lie to me, dammit!"
Abby closed her eyes to shut out the sight of his face. It did no good. She could feel the force of his wrath in every pore of his body. Her eyes opened, huge and uncertain. He looked ready to explode.
"Answer me! Is he a lawman?"
She nodded, struggling to squeeze sound past the tightness in her throat. "Dillon is ... he's Laramie's marshal."
A vile curse rent the air. Hard fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arms. Abby gasped. Kane towered over her by half a head. He was so tall, so much stronger than she was. Fear winged through her as she sensed the violence within him, as fiercely raging as a storm.
He pushed her away from him, and she fell to her knees. "You're crazy if you think I'll take you straight to a lawman. God, what a fool I was! I believed all that talk about his vendetta against Sam—and all the while he's the law! If he finds out who I am, he'll throw my hide in jail... if he doesn't blow my head off first!"
"No," she said faintly. "I won't let him, I swear."
"You expect me to believe a word you say? Christ, and I thought I was bad!" He gave a harsh laugh. "Honey, most lawmen shoot first and ask questions later."
"I'll make certain he doesn't, I promise you! For heaven's sake, think about it! It's not you Dillon wants. It's Stringer Sam, I swear! I told you the truth. He has a vendetta against Stringer Sam because he left him for dead once!"
Kane made no effort to veil his contempt. "I'm through listening to you, sweetheart. Maybe it's time you found some other fool to take you to Stringer Sam. I'm tired of the way you treat me like dirt, the way you think you're better than me."
He was so hard, so utterly unyielding. Abby refused to give in to the tears burning just behind her eyelids. She surged to her feet, consumed by a reckless anger.
"You're right, Kane, you are a fool! And it sure as hell doesn't take much to be a better man than you!"
His spine went rigid. At his side, his hands clenched into fists. He took a step forward, then abruptly checked himself, his eyes burning like the fiery pits of hell. Too late Abby realized she'd gone too far.
"I don't have to take this, sweetheart." His voice was gritty with suppressed anger. "And by God, I won't. Not from you or anyone else."
"Fine!" she shouted. "I don't need you, Kane. I don't need any man. I—I'll find the hideout myself!"
He sneered. "Oh, that's good, real good. Just how the hell do you think you're gonna do that?"
She snatched Sonny's reins, leaped on his back. "You said Sam's hideout was north of here. Mister, that's all I need to know."
She left him standing in a choking cloud of dust.
Kane told himself over and over he didn't give a damn what she did ... where she went... what did or didn't happen to her.
It was a lie, through and through.
But she was right about one thing—he was a fool. Abigail MacKenzie had been nothing but trouble since the moment they'd met. This was the perfect chance to walk away and tum his back on her for good. To say to hell with her noble effort to save her husband. Likely as not, Sam had already caught up with her precious Dillon and the poor sucker was dead, so what was the use in sticking around?
She'd already lost her father, an unwelcome little voice needled him. What if Dillon was dead? She might need someone ...
Not him, jeered another voice in his head. After all, she'd made her feelings toward him perfectly plain—she was convinced he was scum—that he was no damn good. It doesn't take much to be a better man than you. He stiffened, his gaze alert for the telltale signs of her trail. He'd been following since she'd ridden off. Even now, hours later, the taunt still rankled.
Maybe because she was r
ight.
Still, he didn't need anyone—especially spoiled baggage like Abigail MacKenzie—rubbing his face in it.
It was inevitable, perhaps... there was a sharp, knifelike twinge in his chest as he thought of Lorelei. Why it was so, he didn't know. Abby was nothing like Lorelei, nothing at all. Abby was sassy and infuriating. She made him mad nearly every time she opened that pretty little mouth of hers. Lorelei had been sweet-natured and serene, even-tempered and calm. Always a lady, she hadn't minded depending on him, looking to him for advice.
He'd been surprised the first time she'd asked his advice. He was, after all, just a hired hand on the ranch she'd inherited on her husband's death. She'd made him feel worthwhile, as if he were someone who really counted ... It was a new experience for Kane, who'd grown up in Georgia fending for himself. But Lorelei had made him feel needed, as no one had ever needed him before...
Pain burned his heart, raw and searing. Christ, it seemed as if a lifetime had passed since then.
A lifetime of hell.
No, he thought again, Abby was nothing like Lorelei. She was fiery and rash and determined, the stubborn little fool! But even while he damned her for being so foolhardy, he admitted to a twinge of admiration. He didn't know of any other woman with the guts. No. No, that wasn't right... with the courage to ride off on her own as she had.
If he was smart, he'd run. Run and hide as never before. He was good at that. But Kane knew he wasn't going to be smart about this, not smart at all.
You said Sam's hideout was north of here. Mister, that's all I need to know.
At first he hadn't been convinced she meant what she said. But he was now.
And that scared the living hell out of him.
Abby was feeling anything but courageous when she finally laid out her bedroll for the night. It was lonesome traveling without Kane. Why it was so, she couldn't say. Staunchly she assured herself it certainly wasn't because she missed his companionship! Several times she'd been overcome by the strangest sensation, as if she had only to turn around to find him trotting behind her. Several times she did actually twist around.
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