Sweet Silken Bondage

by Bobbi Smith

  Reina felt the heat of Cordell's gaze upon her, and though she managed to keep her expression serene, in truth, her nerves were frayed. She'd thought things were difficult maintaining her disguise before Cordell had showed up, but now, here she was, stuck overnight in this isolated cabin with the very man her father had hired to find her!

  Reina wanted to run and hide from the bounty hunter's disturbing presence, but there was nowhere to run and certainly nowhere to hide. The small cabin offered no privacy whatsoever. She was trapped for the duration, and her only hope was to brazen it out and pray that in the morning he would ride out of her life forever.

  "Here ya go," Hanley announced, distracting Reina from her desperate thoughts, as he set a big kettle of steaming stew in the middle of the table. "Help yourselves."

  "Thank you," they responded.

  Ruth did the honors, taking up the ladle and dishing out generous portions to everyone. When they had all been served and were about to dig in, Melissa suddenly turned her big-eyed, innocent childish gaze to Reina.

  "Sister Mary Regina?" she said her name sweetly.

  "Yes, Melissa?" Reina asked.

  "Aren't you gonna say Grace tonight?"

  Reina almost groaned out loud. She had been so caught up in her worries about Cordell that she'd completely forgotten the prayer over the meal. Melissa had put her on the spot their first night out on the trip, and she'd been stuck saying it every night since.

  "Of course, Melissa. I'm sorry," Reina said with a tranquility she was little feeling. "With all the upset, I'd almost forgotten." Ducking her head to hide her embarrassment, she quickly began to pray. "We thank you our heavenly Father for all the blessings you've bestowed upon us this day. We thank you for Poke's health, and we pray that he will continue to improve." Reina knew she had to say something about Cordell, but it irked her tremendously to do it. "We thank you, also, for the intercession of Mr. Cordell, whose unselfish bravery today saved us from certain harm. We pray that you will guide him safely on his way." Awayfrom me, please God! she added fervently to herself. "Shelter us all from evil and bless this meal we are about to share. We ask this in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Amen."

  "Amen," echoed around the table.

  "Let's eat, folks!" Hanley encouraged, and they did.

  Everyone ate hungrily, but Reina. Cordell was sitting far too close for her to act normally. His presence had been disturbing to her before she'd known who he was, and now that she knew the truth about him, she found him even more so. Reina concentrated on her food, pretending to eat just so she could avoid being drawn into further conversation. The less she said at this point, the better.

  "Sister Mary Regina?" Ruth finally spoke up, think ing the nun was too quiet and that something might be bothering her.

  "Yes?"

  "You're awfully quiet tonight. Are you feeling all right? Is something wrong?"

  "No, not really. I guess I'm just a little tired after the trauma of the holdup and all..."

  "I'm sure both you ladies must be, and Melissa, too," Fred acknowledged, thinking that the women had held up very well, considering the circumstances.

  "Very," Reina agreed with an honestly weary smile.

  "As soon as we get done eating and I get things cleared away, I'll set up the cabin so you can go on to bed," Hanley offered.

  "Thank you, sir. I'm sure a good night's rest is all I need," she responded and then thought, that, and to wake up in the morning and find the sun shining, the birds singing and Clay Cordell already long gone!

  Reina glanced up to find Cordell's fathomless eyes upon her again. It suddenly seemed as if the cabin was closing in on her, and she knew she had to escape him, if even for only a little while. Despite her nervousness, she managed a small smile. "I think, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go on outside for a breath of fresh air."

  "Sure, ma'am," Hanley assured her. "You'll be safe as long as you don't wander too far off."

  "I won't," Reina promised, overjoyed just to be able to get away by herself so she could calm down and get herself back under control.

  "If you like," Hanley offered as she started for the door, "I can heat up some water and you ladies can wash up tonight."

  "Thank you, sir. I know Melissa and I would appreciate it," Ruth answered.

  Reina glanced down at her habit then and realized just how dirty she'd gotten that day. Between the miserable heat, tending Poke's bloody shoulder wound, cowering in the dirt and dressing Cordell's arm, her white habit was filthy. Although at the time, she'd hesitated to take two outfits from the convent, now she was glad that she had. "I guess I'd better take advantage of your kind offer, too, Mr. Hartley. Would it be possible to wash a few things out, too?"

  "Of course," he told her. "You go on outside and enjoy your walk, Sister. I'll have it all ready for you when you get back."

  "Thank you" Reina retreated from the crowded room, eager to enjoy the peace and quiet of the moonlit California night.

  "You be careful out there, Sister. There's all kinds of varmints in the woods this time of night," Poke called after her protectively as she disappeared through the door.

  "I will," came her answer. But Reina knew Poke was concerned about the wrong kind of varmints. The only varmint she was worried about was the one who was sitting there at the dinner table staring at her with those damned unnerving gray eyes of his!

  Clay watched Reina as she went on outside, then thoughts of Dev, so long denied, surged through him. Clay was glad that he'd been able to help stop the robbery, but he was still angry with himself for the mistake he'd made in chasing after the wrong stagecoach. He wasn't sure how he could have been so wrong, but he had been and now he would have to pay the price.

  At the thought, Clay almost laughed out loud in cynicism. He wasn't paying any price! Dev was the one who was paying! He only hoped his friend was holding up well. From the look of things he was going to have to travel all the way back to Louisiana to catch up with the Alvarez girl, and there was no way to do that quickly. It was going.to take time, and he prayed that Luis Alvarez would make sure he had enough time to do it.

  Hanley put the water on to heat and then, with Fred's help, began to partition the cabin for the women by stringing a line across the room and hanging blankets over it. He fixed it so they had the area closest to the fireplace so they would be more comfortable in the chill of the night. As Hanley helped pour the water for Ruth and Melissa, Clay figured they deserved some privacy while they bathed.

  The thought of getting cleaned up before bedtime appealed to Clay, too. So he got some soap and a towel from Hanley, a clean shirt and his shaving gear out of his saddlebags and headed out to the water trough. His arm was stiff and more than a little sore, and it gave him some trouble as he took off his shirt. When he'd discarded the ruined garment, he flexed his shoulders and arms to test the strength of his injured limb. He was relieved to find that he still had full mobility for he couldn't afford to lose any time nursing himself. He had to head straight for New Orleans at first light.

  As Clay thought of Louisiana, it was inevitable that memories of his father and Windown would follow. He hadn't been home in years, and he was sorry that this was going to be a trip born of necessity and not a social visit. Clay knew, though, he couldn't concern himself with anything but finding Reina Alvarez. Once that was done and Dev had been freed, then he could think of coming back to Windown. Until then...

  Clay pushed all regrets aside as he primed the pump. When the icy water finally started to flow, he bent under it, taking care not to get his bandaged arm wet.

  Reina had wandered around the station grounds, trying to come to grips with the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. Over and over she chided herself for her fears. Very logically, she told herself that her secret was safe. If Cordell hadn't recognized her yet, he wasn't going to. But even as she tried to accept that very sane rationale, her instincts refused to allow her to relax. She felt much like an animal hiding in the woo
ds while the predator ranged nearby.

  As she paused near a small grove of trees not too far from the house, Reina sighed raggedly and clasped her hands together in an effort to stop them from trembling. She'd lingered outside as long as she could now, and she knew she had to go back inside, appearing calm, even if she didn't feel calm.

  Clay had just finished shaving and washing and was drying off when he caught sight of Reina standing alone in the distance. He paused in mid-effort to stare at her, thinking she appeared much like an angel at prayer.

  As heavenly as Reina looked, though, Clay was still very much aware of her as a woman. He found her to be everything he'd never thought he'd find in a female. She was a perfect combination of beauty, humility and gentleness of spirit. Yet at the same time, she was so fiercely brave that Clay couldn't imagine her ever running away from anything. Above all else, though, she was a completely honest woman, a woman without guile. Clay wished that he'd had the luck to find her himself before she'd decided to take her vows and enter the convent.

  Reina sensed Clay's intense scrutiny even before she knew he was near. She looked up and couldn't stifle a gasp when she spotted him, watching her from where he stood by the watering trough. He was naked to the waist, his sun-bronzed skin glistening wetly in the muted moonlight. It was not the beauty of his powerful body that held her attention, though, but her first glimpse of him, clean-shaven.

  In that instant, she realized he was the most magnificent looking man she'd ever seen. Her mouth went dry and her heart lurched madly as she stared at him in fascination. She had thought him attractive before he'd shaved, but now...

  Reina let her gaze trace his features. Visually, she caressed the hard, lean line of his jaw and the firm, sensual curve of his mouth. Something intense flared deep within her, and she suddenly found herself caught up in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. She was drawn to Clay physically like a moth to a flame. She wanted him as she'd never wanted another man, and yet in that very attraction was the ultimate danger.

  More shaken than she cared to admit, Reina struggled to maintain the fragment of fragile control she'd only so recently acquired. Girding herself, she managed what she hoped was a serene smile and started to walk back toward the cabin.

  "Good night, Mr. Cordell," Reina said sweetly as she moved past him, taking care not to look at him.

  "Good night, Sister," Clay answered in a husky tone that, unbeknownst to him, sent shivers of awareness coursing through her. He watched Reina go, wondering how it was she managed to stay so tranquil in the face of all of life's ugliness. Clay wished that he had just a little of her inner peace.

  Reina's nerves were stretched taut as she entered the station, and she was greatly relieved to find that Hanley had been kind enough to provide for their privacy. It surprised her to find that everyone had retired early, but in a way she was very grateful, for she needed some more time alone to sort out her thoughts.

  "There's hot water for you there by the fire," Ruth directed from where she lay on a pallet next to her sleeping daughter.

  "Thanks," Reina answered, and she quickly undressed, leaving on only the practical cotton underwear while she washed. At the convent, she had balked at parting with her fancy silk underthings, but Maria had been adamant. Now, Reina was glad she'd listened to her friend, for it would have been difficult to explain to Ruth why she was wearing such fine, lacy undergarments.

  Reina was busy scrubbing away the day's dirt and grime when she heard Cordell reenter the cabin. She froze in her actions, much like a deer sensing trouble, and she waited. When she finally heard the sounds of the bounty hunter bedding down for the night, she relaxed and finished her ablutions.

  Feeling somewhat refreshed, but still a little tense, Reina donned her long nightgown and then believing she was alone, got her brush from her case. She sat on a chair before the low-burning fire, enjoying the luxury of brushing out her hair. It was the first time she'd been able to do it since she'd left Monterey, and it felt wonderful.

  Reina let her thoughts drift as she drew the brush over and over again through her thick, ebony mane. She missed her home and the comfortable life she led there, but despite all the hardships she was encountering, she was still firm in her resolve not to go back. She despised Nathan Marlow too much to even consider spending one moment more with him, let alone a lifetime. It occurred to her then, that her father had had better taste in his choice of a bounty hunter than he had in his choice of her betrothed. She wondered resentfully, why, if he'd felt so compelled to choose her husband for her, that he hadn't picked someone like Cordell. Clay Cordell was ten times the man Nathan was, and had her father arranged her betrothal to him, she probably would never have even considered running away. The only place she would have run, she thought wickedly, was straight into his arms. The man was devilishly handsome, and she only regretted that they couldn't have met under different circumstances. Reina gave a delicious chuckle at the direction of her thoughts and then quickly bit down on her lip as she realized how decadent she'd sounded.

  Forcing herself back into the role of Sister Mary Regina, Reina abruptly stopped brushing her hair and packed away the brush. She finished getting ready for bed and then snuggled down deep beneath the blanket on her pallet. Soon she would be in New Orleans and everything would be all right. She would be safe there from her father, from Nathan Marlow and from Clay Cordell. As sleep claimed her a short time later, she was only vaguely aware of a deep, soft voice bidding her good night.

  Clay was miserable as he lay on his own pallet across the room on the other side of the blanket barrier. In agitation, he wondered if somewhere along the line of his existence he'd unwittingly done some terrible thing and was deserving of this kind of torture. He knew he hadn't lived the life of a saint, but then again, right now, he was beginning to feel like he was in the running for that position.

  Clay groaned inwardly as he thought of the innocent, yet totally seductive display he'd just witnessed. The time he'd spent with Frenchie hadn't been nearly this exciting or this tormenting! How was he supposed to know that Sister Mary Regina was going to take her time about retiring? And, if that wasn't bad enough, how was he supposed to know that with the fire going he'd be able to see through the damned blankets?

  Clay stared up at the ceiling and asked God in mute appeal why he'd been given this cross to bear. He'd been playing the role of the gentleman, and this was his reward? He'd made it a point to linger outside long after Sister Mary Regina had gone indoors to give her time to get in bed. He'd come in himself then, intending to lie down and go right to sleep, and, instead he'd been subjected to the most tantalizing torture known to man - the sight of a beautiful, but unattainable young woman in all her glory. Her fire-silhouetted image on the blanket had nearly driven him into a frenzy, and when she'd sat down to brush out her hair, he'd almost torn the partition down and grabbed the brush from her hand to finish the job for her.

  Clay was perplexed by the power of his reaction to her. It certainly wasn't just because he needed a woman. Frenchie had satisfied that hunger when he'd been in Monterey. No, there was something very different about the way he felt toward this nun, and it was as disturbing as it was powerful.

  In a fit of frustration, Clay rolled over, closed his eyes and pulled his blanket up over his shoulders. As he lay desperately courting oblivion, he found that he was glad he would be riding out on his own in the morning. Knowing how he felt about Sister Mary Regina, Clay knew it was a good thing that he was not making the trip back East on the stage, for he wasn't sure he would be able to control the desire he felt for her. When he finally felt himself drifting off, he whispered a hoarse good night, for he knew that he would be gone in the morning before she awoke and that he would never see her again.

  It was late afternoon when Philip and Clay mounted the front steps of Windown and entered the house. Clay had been back home for almost a week, and Philip was thoroughly enjoying having him there with him again. They had spent the better pa
rt of the day riding the fields and working with their breeding stock, and they were tired but content as they made their way into the study. Clay dropped wearily into one of the leather wingchairs while his father moved to his small liquor cabinet and poured them each a tumbler of his best bourbon. Philip's smile was warm and happy as he handed Clay one of the glasses.

  "I can't tell how good it is to have you home again," he told him with heartfelt emotion.

  "It's good to be here," Clay agreed, giving a deep, satisfied sigh as he settled back and relaxed. He'd missed his father and Windown more than he cared to admit, and, had circumstances been different, he might have considered staying on for a while. As it was, though, he knew he had to concentrate on his real reason for coming to Louisiana-finding Reina Alvarez. "I'm just sorry that I can't stay longer."

  "So am I," his father remarked, knowing it would do no good to say any more on the subject. When Clay had first arrived, he'd confided in him his reason for coming. He'd told him about his friend Dev's arrest and how he'd been forced into taking the job of hunting down the runaway girl. Philip knew how angry and frustrated his son was over the whole situation, and he refused to add to the strain by trying to pressure him into remaining permanently.

  If the Alvarez girl doesn't show up here by the middle of next week, I'll have to head out again." Clay scowled at the thought, aggravated that his discreetly made inquiries about the Delacroix family had turned up nothing. "Damn!" he swore. "If she was heading here to the Delacroix plantation like her father thought, she would have made it by now. But there's no record of her anywhere, not on the steamboat lines or the stage lines or at any of the hotels."