The order had been gently given, but she knew it allowed no room for compromise. He left the room and she dropped onto the bed. "I find your brother extremely irritating."
"He would die for you, señorita."
Although Angela entertained the possibility that the words were true, she did not dare hope that she would ever mean that much to a man. "I hardly think so."
"Then you do not know him."
But what she did know was that she had taken an instant liking to Juanita. Smiling, she held out her hand. "I'm very happy to meet you."
Juanita squeezed her hand and said, "Mi casa es su casa."
* * *
Angela sank into the wooden tub, allowing the steaming hot water to lap at her throat. Eduardo had hauled in the tub and filled it with buckets of water. He was almost as shy as Juanita was, muttering a greeting to her before hastily leaving the room. Angela supposed the younger siblings had little choice when the older ones appeared to be so forceful.
She rested her head against the back of the tub where Juanita had set a rolled-up blanket to cushion her neck. She thought she might stay here forever.
She felt the tug on her hair as Juanita worked a comb through the tangles. "We should probably just chop it off," Angela murmured lethargically.
"Oh, no, señorita. You have beautiful hair, and I have nothing else to do this morning. Besides, I think it would please Lee. He smiles whenever he speaks of you, and it has been a long time since I have seen him smile."
Angela rolled her eyes, not daring to believe that she had the power to make a man smile with little more than the mention of her name. "Are you sure it wasn't a grimace?" she asked teasingly, thinking of her earlier debacle when she had tried to appear calm.
"Oh, very sure, señorita. It is a small smile, sort of wistful as though he was afraid that if he smiled too big, fate would take away his reason to smile at all."
Angela hesitated and then decided that the question she wanted to ask wouldn't exactly address what he looked like. "Does he have a nice smile?"
"A very nice smile. It always warms me inside to see it."
"But you said that he doesn't smile often."
"Not for many years now," Juanita said softly, but Angela heard the sadness in her voice.
She was struck again by how much everyone cared for Lee. It was not fear for the outlaw that drove them. No, it was a deep bond.
She knew she should have chastised him this morning when she awoke in his intimate embrace. Instead, she had wished desperately that he'd allow her to roll over and touch him, hold him as he held her. She wanted to know the cut of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the angles that formed his chin. She knew his height, the breadth of his shoulders, the sturdiness of his arms. But she wanted to know all of him.
She considered asking Juanita to describe him, but she would not allow Lee's sister to unknowingly betray him. Although she despised his need to keep his appearance hidden from her, she also respected his right to want it.
"Lee is the oldest," she speculated.
"Oh, no," Juanita said. "Alejandro is older, although not by much."
Angela sat up slightly. "But Lee seems to be in charge."
"Sí. He is good at giving orders."
"So it's Alejandro, then Lee…" She trailed off, not certain where to go from there.
"Roberto. Jorge. Me, then Eduardo," Juanita finished.
"And Miguel," Angela added.
"Oh, sí. Miguel is the youngest."
"He must have been a baby when your mother died." She cringed when Juanita pulled the comb through her hair, making her scalp sting.
"He was just a baby," she acknowledged.
"When were your parents killed?" Angela asked, unable to remember when she'd first heard of the outlaw.
"I said no questions, querida," Lee said sternly.
Angela squeaked and dipped lower into the water. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Because you were too busy interrogating my sister."
"I wasn't interrogating her. Besides, you didn't say I couldn't ask questions. You only said that I couldn't ask what you looked like."
She heard his footsteps echoing loudly now as he came farther into the room. She could clearly imagine him bearing down on her.
"You can go, Juanita."
"What are you going to do to her?" Juanita asked. The tremble in her voice surprised Angela.
"I am going to get the tangles out of her hair."
Juanita quickly attacked her hair with the comb. "I can get the tangles out."
"Juanita," Lee chided gently. "It is my fault they are there. I removed the pins."
His knees creaked, and she knew the moment he took the comb and her hair out of Juanita's hands.
"I do not think it is right for a man to be in a room alone with a woman," Juanita said in a small voice.
"She and I were alone for many nights, Juanita," he said quietly.
"You promised me that you would never hurt a woman."
"And I kept that promise. I will keep it until the day I die. But this one here, she is a smart one. She will find answers to questions she is better off not knowing."
She heard Juanita rise to her feet. "I will never forgive you if you hurt her."
"Juanita, you know me. Do you honestly think I would hurt her even if I had not given you that promise?"
"I'm sorry, Lee, I know you would not hurt her."
She heard tears in Juanita's voice, his knees pop as he stood, and she envisioned him taking his sister within his arms.
"It's all right, Juanita," he murmured. "It's all right."
Juanita sniffed. "I need to fix the midday meal. Do not worry, señorita, he will not hurt you."
She listened as Juanita walked out of the room, and Lee once again crouched beside the tub. "She was afraid of you," Angela said.
"She is afraid of the memories. You must not ask my family about that night. It is better that they forget."
"How can they forget if you're constantly seeking revenge?" She felt the teeth of the comb dig into her crown just before he yanked it through her hair. "Ow!" she cried, and slapped her hand over his.
"I do not know how to do this," he barked.
"Give me the comb." She held out her hand.
"I can do it. Just tell me how."
She sighed. He was the most aggravating man. "Start at the end and ease—gently—the tangles out until you work your way to the top."
"Sounds simple enough."
The back of his hand came to rest on her bare shoulder, and she felt the movements as he repeatedly jerked the comb through a section of her hair. She wanted to press her chin against his hand, cradle it within the hollow of her neck. She was grateful the water lapped above her chest, wondered where his gaze wandered. Was he smiling now?
During their kisses, she'd ascertained that he had straight teeth and full lips, and she could well imagine that his smile would beguile any woman fortunate enough to have it directed her way. Had he ever grinned at her? Without permission to touch his face, she had no way of knowing. For all she knew, he was scowling, that fine mouth of his turned down in annoyance, not up in appreciation.
His efforts gentled, slowed. She became aware of his forearm touching her arm, heat radiating near her shoulder, warmth that didn't have to pass through cloth. "You're not wearing a shirt?"
He stifled. "No, I came in to get a clean one. I did not expect to find you in the bath already."
She'd been so desperate to wash away the grime that she'd practically ripped off her clothes. "I was eager to be clean."
Skimming his fingers along the shell of her ear, he moved aside her hair. "Is the water too hot?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head slightly. "Why would you think that?"
"Because dew has gathered along your throat, a drop trails down … right here…" He nuzzled her neck.
She was acutely aware of the wanton desire pooling deep within her, his lower lip capturing the moisture as
his heated mouth journeyed higher, his eyelashes fluttering against her ear as though he'd closed his eyes, his teeth nibbling at her lobe, his rapid, harsh breathing. She heard him swallow hard as his fingers fisted around her hair. "Maybe … maybe I'd better comb out the tangles," she offered softly, breathlessly.
"Sí, I need to take a bath," he rasped.
She halfway expected him to leap into the water with her. Instead, she heard the familiar pop of his knees as he stood and noted that his hand shook when he pressed the comb against her palm. She listened to the heavy tread of his boots as he quit the room and sought what comfort she could in the knowledge that she'd determined he had large feet.
Smiling, she sank further into the water. He also had long eyelashes, long, thick eyelashes that tickled like the fragile petals of a dandelion when her mother would blow them into her face. Her smile of wonder spread throughout her body. Of all the things about an outlaw to discover.
A small sound caught her attention, the brush of a body against a wall. "Miguel?"
She heard him catch his breath. "How did you know, señorita?"
She touched a finger to her ear. "I have very good hearing."
He padded across the floor, and the warmth of his body hovered near her shoulder. She thought about telling him that he shouldn't be in here, but a child's innocence was incredibly disarming.
"Lee said I could have a piñata for my birthday," he announced, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to talk to a woman who sat in a bathtub. "Will you come to my birthday party?"
She heard the yearning in his young voice, but she didn't know exactly when his birthday was or if she'd still be here.
"Will there be lots of children there?" she asked.
"My brothers and Juanita."
Her stomach tightened with the knowledge that she should have understood. He could have no friends here because his brother was an outlaw. With a sadness for all he could not have, she smiled, knowing no matter how long it took, she wouldn't leave until she'd fulfilled this obligation. "I'll be here for your birthday."
"Gracias, señorita. I will let you try to break the piñata." He flung his thin arms around her neck and planted a slobbery kiss on her cheek. He released her abruptly, and she heard his hasty retreat, no doubt eager to share the news that he would have a guest for his birthday celebration, news that would probably not be welcomed by many family members. But she would deal with them when the time came.
Besides, that little boy with his eagerness filled an aching chasm in her heart, a chasm created that awful day she'd lost Damon Montgomery. She couldn't believe she'd told Lee about it. She had been nine, old enough to watch him. He had been a year older than Miguel would soon be. Five. Equally eager, equally enthusiastic, equally giving of his hugs and kisses.
He'd had nothing to fear because his father was one of the most respected Texas Rangers in the state. He'd had nothing to fear except the carelessness of a friend who had ignored the sound of approaching horses until she'd heard his yell, who'd hid out of fear at being captured by the renegades who had caught him and ridden away with him. Her head knew that it had been too late to rescue him, and that her only recourse had been to sneak away and find her family. Her head knew that she'd done all she could.
But her heart had never forgiven her.
* * *
Standing by the stone well, Lee dumped another bucket of cool water over his head. He had to get the woman away from here before she made him loco. How could he possibly have touched his mouth to her soft neck, to be so close that all he could smell was the delicate scent that belonged to her alone, to nibble on her ear as though he were a starving man sitting down to his first meal? It had taken all the willpower he possessed not to dip his hand beneath the water to take pleasure from the weight of her breast within his palm. Her alabaster flesh demanded a man's mouth pay homage to it. He had never in his life yearned for anything as much as he longed to possess Angela.
But his quest for revenge would ensure that he never had her. She was not the type of woman to give herself lightly … to lift her skirts for him. Only he did not want her to merely lift her skirts. He wanted her to bare her body, every inch of flesh revealed so his gaze could feast on her perfection.
The water had teased her nipples into hardened buds that he had longed to close his mouth around, to run his tongue over, to tempt his lips with. Bared, with no cloth to separate their flesh this time. The water had not been clear enough for him to see anything else, but his imagination had not stopped with only what he could see. He had held her for so many nights that he could envision every curve, every dip, every slope that promised a man heaven … especially a man who lived in hell.
He dropped the bucket into the well and began to crank the handle to bring it back up. He doubted that a fourth dousing would cool his heated flesh, but he could always hope.
"What are you doing?" Alejandro asked.
Lee released the handle and glared at his brother. "Taking a bath."
"I thought I saw you bathing earlier."
But then he'd gone to his room to get a clean shirt… "So? Now I am taking another one. Is there some law that says a man cannot take two baths in one day?" he demanded.
Alejandro lifted a brow in speculation as he planted his butt on the stone ledge of the well. "I remember Ramon used to spend a lot of time in the river after Christine caught his eye."
Lee plowed his hands through his drenched hair, flinging out droplets. "Will you stop comparing this situation to Ramon's? It is nothing like his. He loved Christine, she loved him. Even if I loved Angela—which I do not—but if I did… I know"—with a heavy sigh, he sat beside Alejandro, barely aware of the hard edge biting into his backside—"I know she is a fine lady, and I … I am an outlaw. She could never love a man such as me." He looked toward the house and swallowed. "I have to take her home. Tomorrow."
Alejandro slapped his back. "Good. When you return, maybe we will go to Laredo. Visit a cantina, find a lovely señorita—"
Lee reached for the shirt he'd snatched off a peg by the door when he'd walked out of his room. "Another woman will not satisfy me." Slipping the shirt over his head, he acknowledged that unfortunately, he couldn't have the one who would.
"So you have fallen in love her." Alejandro's question came out as a statement.
"I don't know. I just know that sometimes it is like there is a hole in me, and when she is near, it is no longer empty."
"You have always been too poetic. You are a man; she is a woman. It is that simple."
"If it were that simple, I would have already bedded her. But nothing about Angela is simple. She is incredibly brave."
"She tried to slow you down, get you captured."
"Would you have not done the same thing in her place?"
"She shot you."
A smile played at the corner of his mouth. "That, I think was a mistake. She would not have sewn me up otherwise. When I told her that I had to delay taking her home, that I had to come here first, she did not protest."
"She is blind."
"She sees more than I do."
Alejandro released a great gust of air. "Then keep her."
"I cannot do that. Do you remember how Christine grieved when Ramon died? I could not ask Angela to endure that suffering. And she would, for a day will come when my luck will run out."
"No one knows what you look like. I could become Lee Raven."
Lee stood, faced his brother, and held his gaze. "No, hombre. It is my price to pay. I knew it when I squeezed the trigger."
"Lee!"
Turning, Lee smiled as Miguel's churning legs brought him nearer. Everything in his life was done in such a hurry. As soon as the boy was within range, Lee scooped him up and held him high above his head. The child squealed with delight. "What is it, little Miguel?"
"Juanita says it is time to eat."
Lee swung him around and settled him on his shoulders. "Then we must go eat."
Mig
uel dug his fingers into Lee's hair. "Your hair is wet."
"I was bathing. Perhaps you need a bath, heh?"
"No!" The child laughed, a delightful sound that caused Lee's chest to ache. Ah, to possess such innocence again.
"Lee, when will Hector have his babies?" Miguel asked.
When they'd let Miguel name the cat, they hadn't known how to explain about its gender, but apparently that didn't matter to a child. Since Lee had not yet looked in on the critter, he cast a glance at Alejandro, who shrugged and mouthed, "Soon."
"Any time now. We will check on him after our siesta," Lee assured him. The boy was almost jumping on his back with anticipation.
They caught up with the others as they neared the front porch. Lee swept Miguel off his shoulders and set him on the porch.
With his brothers in his wake, Lee followed Miguel inside, to a room that housed a large oaken table and several chairs. He stumbled to a stop at the arched doorway, and his brothers rammed into him one by one like a line of dominoes being knocked down.
"Dios mío," someone whispered, accurately echoing his thoughts.
Angela gingerly walked around the table, skimming her fingers over a plate, setting a fork and knife on either side, before moving on to the next. She wore one of Juanita's blouses with puffy sleeves and a scooped neck, revealing the barest hint of the swells he'd seen before. One of Juanita's skirts was cinched in tightly at her waist, a bright red sash emphasizing its narrowness. And her hair. Her glorious hair. On either side of her head, one of Juanita's combs kept it from falling into her face, allowing every strand to cascade down her back past her waist.
"You're welcome to sit down," she said, when she had completed her circle of the table.
Miguel scrambled into his chair. "You can sit by me, señorita."
She bestowed upon him the most beautiful smile that Lee had ever seen, more lovely than the one she'd given Juanita that morning, so full of happiness and joy that it caused a profound ache in his chest. He had yearned to see such a smile grace her face; now he knew he would have been better off never setting eyes on it.
"All right," she told Miguel. "Keep talking until I find you."
"I am here, I am here…" Miguel repeated over and over while her laughter filled the room with the sweetest lyrical music.
THE OUTLAW AND THE LADY Page 10