by Leann Harris
“I’m sorry, April. I seem to keep stepping in it with everything I say. Carmen said I had as much finesse as that old bull out in the yard.”
“Oh, no.” She clutched his hand to her chest. “You’ve been wonderful. I feel that no matter what happens, I’m safe.” Her eyes met his. “There’s a strength in you, Rafe. A knowing of right from wrong. And that is rare in this day and age.”
Rafe knew he needed to keep her talking. She might reveal something. “I’m not so unusual. Most Rangers are men with well-defined senses of right and wrong. They go with the spirit of the law.”
She grinned. “Are you telling me that Rangers aren’t real careful with the letter of the law?”
“That’s a problem that has been corrected.” A note of indignation crept into his voice. “Besides, if you can’t remember last week, how do you know about those little Ranger incidents?”
“I don’t. I guessed it from your expression.”
He was dumbfounded by her observation. His wife couldn’t read him if he’d carried a placard and she didn’t care to try. It appeared that April did.
When April took her evening shower, Rafe went into his office and placed a call to Alex.
“I’m sorry for calling so late, but I have a question for you.”
“No problem.”
“April’s starting to remember things. This afternoon she remembered seeing the body of another man who’d been shot. She can’t recall too many details. Is there anything I need to do?”
“Don’t pressure her. If she wants to talk, lead her, but don’t force her. Her mind might shut down if she feels she has to remember.”
“That’s not a lot of help,” he grumbled.
“Don’t gripe to me, Rafe. You should know that sometimes things take time. You don’t get all your leads instantly, do you?”
“No,” he admitted reluctantly.
“One thing leads to another. Just look at this experience in the same light. If you’re patient, I think April will remember everything.”
“I hope it’s before that shooter tries again.” As he hung up the phone, Rafe realized he had hoped that his sister would have a magical answer. Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy.
When had it ever been?
April wrapped her arms around her waist and looked out the window. She was careful enough to stand back from the window, but she could see the Davis Mountains in the distance on this bright, moonlit night.
In her mind, she relived the events of the day. It had been like riding that roller-coaster that she had seen in her memory. Up—the feeling of Rafe’s hands on her ankle as he readjusted her stirrup; down—when Rafe threw her back into his truck, shielding her with his body.
Terror washed through her. Someone wanted her dead. What had she done so wrong? She thought of the body she’d seen in her mind this afternoon. Had she seen something she shouldn’t have? Her eyes fluttered closed and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.
And poor Rafe. He was caught in the middle of her nightmare. She was grateful that his wound had been minor, but it was her fault that he’d been shot, no matter what everyone was trying to tell her.
The flash of memory she had had earlier danced through her brain. Again, she shied away from it. If that was what was in her past, she didn’t want to remember. And maybe that was the problem.
Up until today, she hadn’t given any thought to why she couldn’t remember. Now, the ugliness of her past had resurfaced and the brief glimpse she had had made her shudder.
Chills raced over her skin. It was going to be a long night.
“Rafe, I’ve got wonderful news for you.”
Captain Banks sounded in a good mood. Rafe was glad that someone was cheerful. Heaven knew, he wasn’t. His leg hurt, his head hurt, and each time he looked at April, he started to fantasize.
“Well, I certainly could use some good news.”
“There’s a CNN crew in Big Bend. They were doing a story on the scum bringing illegals across the border.”
“In the park?” Rafe couldn’t believe his ears.
“No. They were to meet this informer in a border county, but the guy never showed. So since they were there, they went to the park and did a story on how the Endangered Species Act has affected the natural order of things. Well, those fellas are done and going to be driving through Saddle this afternoon. They’d like to stop and do a story about April.”
“That’s terrific, Steve. Talk about a stroke of good luck.”
“Yeah. I told the crew to check in with Derek in town. He can direct them from there.”
“I think things are going to start to shake loose,” said Rafe, then he hung up the phone.
April was watching him. “What was that about?” she asked.
“You’re going to be on TV, April. CNN is sending a crew by the house to interview you. With that much exposure, I think we’ll get a lead.”
She didn’t look thrilled. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she murmured, “I hope so.”
April sat in Rafe’s study, trying to calmly answer the interviewer’s questions. She didn’t have much to say. The young man in his late 20s turned to Rafe.
“You found her on your land?” Marty asked, pointing to April.
“Yes. April had been caught in a flash flood. There wasn’t any sign of her car and she had no identification with her. We’re hoping that if anyone knows her, they’ll call the Rangers.”
The young man finished his piece and then they shut off the camera.
“When will this run?” Rafe asked.
“We’ll file it immediately, but I can’t guarantee when it will run. It depends on what kind of news day it is. You were fortunate that we were in the area.”
“My boss told me about your aborted story on illegals. That’s too bad.” Rafe tried to sound casual. He didn’t want to alarm the reporter, causing him to clam up. If he pushed, that’s what would happen.
The young man rolled up the cable for the microphone. “Yeah, that was an odd deal. The man sounded very urgent. We went down to where he was supposed to meet us, but he never showed.”
Rafe wanted to ask more about their informant, but he knew that the reporter wouldn’t give him any more information than he already had.
As he watched the news crew drive away, Rafe’s sixth sense kicked up.
Rafe woke with a start. He sat motionless, listening.
A moan floated through the air—the sound of someone in pain.
He threw back the sheet and slipped on his sweats. Then he opened his bedroom door and paused. There it was again—another moan.
“No, no, don’t.” The echo of the words hadn’t even finished reverberating down the hall by the time he burst into April’s room.
April’s scream tore through the air and she sat up. Rafe crouched and looked around the still room, alert for danger.
No one was there. Except April, who was sobbing.
“April, querida, are you okay?” he asked as he sat beside her on the bed.
She struggled to regain her composure, then nodded.
Gently, he stroked back the strands of hair that were plastered to her face. “Can you remember what you dreamt about?”
“Blood. There was so much blood.” Her tears began to flow again. He pulled her into his arms and let her cry out her fear. “It was the man I saw earlier today.”
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly he became aware of April’s cheek resting on his chest, and her soft breasts pressing against him. He tried to concentrate, in spite of the roaring of his blood through his veins.
“Do you remember anything more?”
She paused. “The carpet was one of those oriental ones. Blues and greens. And blood.”
“Where is this carpet? Can you see anything else around that stain?”
She pressed her head against his chest, then sighed.
“I know you don’t want to try, but I think your mind is trying to tell you something.”
Glancing up at him, she said, “I know.”
“It sounds logical to me. I’ve dealt with several amnesia patients who had witnessed something that caused them to lose their memory. Also, it’s been a couple of days since I found you. The swelling on your temple is looking better, so...”
She didn’t look conviced. After a moment’s pause, she nodded. “Okay.” Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the dream. “The man is blond. I can’t see his face clearly.” Again, she pressed her face into Rafe’s chest.
“Can you see anything about the man? What’s he wearing?”
“A white shirt, tan pants.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“No.” She didn’t elaborate.
Rafe suspected that she didn’t want to recall what she had seen. Maybe later, when she wasn’t so frightened and upset. He lightly stroked his hands over her back.
Suddenly, the details of their immediate situation hit him full force. April only had on his T-shirt and her panties. He didn’t even have his shirt on, so only the thin fabric of the T-shirt separated them. He could feel every inch of her luscious body.
His fingers ran over her chin and then tilted it up. “Relax, April. You’re safe now.” He felt like a hypocrite uttering those words; he felt anything but safe and comforting. “There’s no one here who will hurt you.”
Her eyes locked with his, then her fingers touched his chin. “I believe you.” Like a blind woman, she ran her hands across his skin, seeming to enjoy the roughness of his beard. Closing her eyes, she repeated the action. Her lips parted slightly.
“April,” he warned.
Slowly as a sleepwalker, she opened her eyes. “What?” she answered absently.
His hand captured hers. “If you keep doing that, I can’t guarantee that—”
“Yes?”
“I’m a man. And you are a woman I find very attractive.”
“Really?”
His head lowered toward hers. “Really,” he whispered before he settled his lips on hers. Blood roared in his ears as he felt her mouth bloom under his. She slipped her arms around his chest, anchoring herself to him. There was no hesitation in her actions. She wanted this.
Her tongue darted into his mouth, then quickly retreated. She didn’t have to issue the invitation a second time. Rafe eagerly caressed her lips with his tongue, then slipped inside to taste the honey that was her. Slowly, he ran his tongue over her teeth, stroking the sides of her mouth.
His hands slid down her back and slipped under the T-shirt. Her skin was incredibly smooth, like the finest satin. His hands moved up her back, enjoying the suppleness of her skin.
She seemed as impatient as he was. Her hands skimmed over his back, tracing the bumps of his spine, then eased over the muscles of his shoulders.
He grasped the edge of the T-shirt and pulled it up and over her head. Pausing, he looked his fill at the beauty revealed to him.
“So beautiful,” he whispered and stroked his hand over her fullness. She closed her eyes, reveling in his touch. He smiled at her response. His lips replaced his fingers, and a moan was torn from her throat.
“Do you like that, querida?” he asked in a low voice filled with passion.
“Oh, yes.” She reached for him and he pulled her toward his chest. The feel of her breasts against him was a brand, burning into his flesh. And it made him feel elemental, like the first man on the earth with his woman. It made him want to bury himself in her warmth and never stop.
That last thought was like a bucket of cold water on him. He closed his eyes and tried to find the frayed end of his self-restraint and honor. April was his responsibility. She wasn’t here for him to enjoy for the moment. How could he even have thought that?
She must have felt his emotional withdrawal, because she looked up at him. “What’s wrong?” she whispered. “Rafe? Did I do something wrong?” There was a note of panic in her voice.
“No, April,” he replied as he set her away from him.
She seemed to feel awkward and grasped the sheet to cover herself.
He stood up. “I’m sorry, April. I had no right to do what I just did. Things got out of hand. I only meant to see if you were all right.” He didn’t look at her, but instead headed for the door.
“Rafe?” Her soft voice stopped him as effectively as a slug from a .44. But he didn’t turn around.
“It wasn’t all your fault. You didn’t do anything I wasn’t willing to do, that I didn’t want to do.”
Her words didn’t ease his conscience. He still felt like a snake.
He turned and looked at her. “It won’t happen again, April. If you’re worried, don’t be.”
As he walked out of her room, he thought he heard her say, “I wish it would.”
Chapter 10
April stared at the closed door, holding her breath, hoping that it would open again and that Rafe would walk back in. She waited and waited, but the door didn’t open.
Sighing, she slid down into her bed. Her breasts were tender and aching. Her eyes fluttered closed and she remembered every moment that she was held in his arms. His chest had been smooth but with muscles that were defined and comforting. The feel of his hard chest under her cheek had given her a sense of peace.
While in his arms, she felt no harm could befall her. Whatever evil lingered in her past couldn’t touch her while she was guarded by this Texas Ranger. The terror of her nightmare had vanished the instant he had taken her into his arms.
Although he had reluctantly told her about his family, she wanted to know more about him. What was his favorite food, besides green chili? What kind of music did he like? What was his ex-wife like? And why wasn’t there a woman with him now?
She rolled over onto her stomach. She ought to be wondering about her own past, she told herself. Instead she was obsessing about Rafe’s, and what he was like in fifth grade. Maybe there was a book in the study. She needed to think about something else besides how attracted she was to a certain quiet Texas Ranger.
She slipped on her jeans and T-shirt and headed toward his office.
Rafe didn’t even bother going back into his bedroom. There would be no sleep for him. He walked through the kitchen and out the back door. A soft, cold wind blew down from the mountains. Looking up into the sky, he took a deep breath, hoping to slow the pounding of blood through his veins..
What had just about happened in April’s room was something he wanted, but would he be able to pay the price? April was about as helpless as a newborn foal. She didn’t need some overzealous cowboy pressing her for sex.
That wasn’t what happened, a voice in his head argued.
“Yeah, well it would’ve if I hadn’t come to my senses.” He felt as if he were being torn in two. Never before had he run into a case like this, where he couldn’t manage to separate his personal feelings from the job. There was no sense of professional distance here.
He muttered a phrase in Spanish, one that would have made his mother wash out his mouth with soap. Turning, he walked back into the kitchen. He paused by the refrigerator, pulled out a plastic jug of water and filled a glass. After downing it, he headed for his bedroom. When he stepped into the hall, he noticed a light from his office. He knew he hadn’t left it on.
He strode into the room, a dozen thoughts racing through his head. The sight of April squinting at the books on his shelves stopped him cold.
“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”
She jumped. “You scared me,” she told him.
She hadn’t answered his question. And he needed her to answer.
Her cheeks went pink. “I couldn’t sleep. I saw some books in here the other day. I thought I might do some reading in the hopes that I could....”
He knew what she didn’t finish saying. She wanted something to think about besides the moments they had spent together. He could understand that, and felt like a fool for being suspicious of her. Heaven knew, he could us
e something, too, to occupy his mind—besides visions of April.
“I have just a few novels. If you like Zane Grey, I have several of his books. I even have a book on Cervantes and Don Quixote, but unless you read Spanish, that might not be the best choice for you.”
“You read Don Quixote?” She sounded as though it was an unheard of thing for a Ranger to have literary taste.
“Most Rangers can read.”
She gave him a puzzled frown, then her eyes widened. “No, no I didn’t mean that.” She sounded nervous. “What I meant was that you read Spanish—I’m making this worse.”
He laughed, and she relaxed her stance.
“I also speak Spanish fluently.” He pulled the book from the shelf and handed it to her. She opened it up and thumbed through a few pages.
“I read it for a literature class I took in college,” he continued. “The DPS always needed Spanish-speaking officers, so I have a minor in Spanish in addition to my law enforcement degree.”
“That’s wonderful.” Her eyes scanned a paragraph, then she handed the book back to him. “I don’t think I can read Spanish.”
He put the book back. “Then I guess you’re limited to Zane Grey. Or I do have several criminology textbooks. They are interesting, but they make bad bedtime reading. And we don’t want to add to the nightmares that you had tonight.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” she murmured.
He couldn’t prevent the laugh that burst from his lips. She threw him a glance, then smiled. She took one of the Zane Grey books. He took another.
She looked surprised.
“You’re not the only one who needs something to cure insomnia.”
“Oh.” Her expression told him that she understood exactly what he was talking about.
“Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?” he asked.
She hesitated, biting her bottom lip. “Well, I could make that chocolate pudding we bought at the store.”
Rafe’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Nodding her head, she said, “C’mon.”