She spit into his face. “I’d rather die.” He wiped his face, smearing blood and spittle across his cheek. “That’s all right, too. Don’t think I won’t kill you right now.” He smiled. “I’d rather wait for Rafe. But I won’t if you push me.”
Madness gleamed in his stare. He would kill her without a care. Then Rafe would walk right into the trap.
He pressed the gun in her side, into the baby, as they walked to the house.
“It figures,” he muttered, “that Rafe would be here all cozy with a fine piece like you.” He squeezed her bottom, then pushed her inside the cabin. “A ll this time I’ve been sleeping on the damn ground and eating hardtack.” He glanced around the small room and sniffed. “You probably cook for him every day.” His eyes landed on the bed. “A nd fuck him every night.”
She backed toward the table. The last thing she wanted this man to do was look at a bed and think about her.
“Don’t worry. I’m not as hungry for you as I am for food. It’s your good luck that I haven’t had a hot meal in a month.” He stomped toward her, but stopped at the kitchen chair and settled himself into the seat. “Now fix me some goddamn food and be quick about it.” His gaze landed on the plate of fresh cookies, and he waved her away with his gun. “Coffee first. But don’t get any more ideas about besting me.” His hand caught hers before she could move, bending her fingers backward until they cracked. “If you do, I’ll tie Rafe up and gut him in front of you.” He pressed harder. “Understand?” Tears sprang to her eyes, but she managed to nod without crying out.
Simon shoved her to the hearth. She fell against the stone, her hand automatically covering her stomach.
Evil laughter filled the room. “Well, I’ll be damned.
You’re carrying his bastard, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Isn’t that ironic?”
Maggie scrambled to her feet. What did that mean?
“Too bad he’ll never live to see it.” His voice was a cold sneer. “Maybe I won’t kill you. Maybe I’ll take you with me and raise his son as my own.”
“I’d kill myself before I let that happen.” A nger made her spit the words, each syllable clear and precise.
He chuckled. “We’ll just see. Now hurry up with my coffee.”
She filled a cup, and Simon motioned for her to set it on the table. His face held no expression except anger.
Everything about this man scared her. He would make her regret being caught unprepared.
“Fix me some of those eggs.” He nodded to the basket. “A nd fry up some bacon. Don’t bother saying you haven’t got any. I can smell it from your breakfast.” She gave a quick nod and turned to crack the eggs.
Time was running out. Rafe would be back soon.
Glancing around the kitchen, she took note of her weapons. A fireplace poker, an iron skillet and a butcher knife. But Simon expected her to try something like that.
Her attack had to a surprise. A nd this time it had to be deadly.
She needed a gun from the larder.
How could she get to them? Maybe while he ate?
If only she had a bottle of laudanum, she could lace his coffee and knock him out. Offering him whiskey was too dangerous. He might not drink enough to pass out and some men became mean when they drank. Simon was already the scariest man she’d ever met.
Rafe. His face flashed in her mind. A lump gathered in her throat when she thought of him. Her soul ached.
He was like the air she breathed. He couldn’t die. They had come too far for it to end like this.
What was he doing right now? She blinked away tears and pictured him walking along the creek with Wolf.
The sun would glint off his dark hair, and his gray eyes would crinkle at the corners when he glanced at the sky.
She wanted to see him again. Wanted to kiss and hold him. It was unacceptable that the last time they saw each other, one or both of them would die.
She stiffened her spine as she fixed Simon’s plate. He would not kill them. No matter what she had to do, she would find a way to save them both.
****
The afternoon ticked away minute by minute. Maggie sat on the hearth, as far away from Simon as possible, watching him eat. The warm coals at her back did nothing to stop her from shivering. Cold sweat trickled down her spine. He kept his hand on his pistol. His eyes never left her face, daring her to try something. No doubt he anticipated killing her.
He smirked as he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re shaking like a leaf. You must be anxious for me.” His laugh was low and mean.
Bile rose up her throat. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.
She bit her lip and forced herself not to panic. Maybe after he ate, she could distract him. A nother shudder racked her body. Dear God, help her. She w a s the distraction.
Forcing a deep breath, she plotted. If Simon was busy with his hands, then she would be able to reach his gun and—
“You’re different than most women I’ve come across out here. Where did Rafe find you?” His expression was calculating.
“In Cougar Creek.”
“Well, you’re better looking than the two whores they had to offer while I was there.” He finished his coffee and stood, stalking her. “But Rafe always did draw women like flies.” Simon chuckled and dragged his fingers down her cheek. “While I was in town, though, I heard an interesting story about a man buying a pretty woman off the auction block. Good thing I kept this tintype of me, Rafe, and Shane.” He tapped his pocket. “Otherwise, I might never have found him.”
Maggie stepped away from him.
“Get back here.” He motioned with his gun.
She hedged, fearful. She didn’t want his touch, but obedience was the only chance she had.
“Now,” Simon growled.
She took the few steps to him, then met his eyes. His stare made her skin crawl.
“I haven’t had a woman in a long time.” He reached to tug her hair from its braid, smiling when she cringed.
“Unbutton your shirt.” He tapped a button with the end of the pistol. “I want to see your tits.” Her hands shook as she reached to her neckline. She squeezed her eyes closed unwilling to watch him touch her body.
“Open your damn eyes. I want you just like when Rafe takes you. I bet you don’t close your eyes then.” Hatred dripped off every word.
With one hard yank, he tore the shirt open. He grunted his approval and placed the gun on the table.
“That’s better.” His hot breath washed over her as pulled her to him.
She concentrated on the gun…just out…of reach. If she could get Simon to back up one step—
“Maggie! I’m back.” Rafe’s voice echoed through the room.
Simon jerked away from her and grabbed the gun in one smooth motion.
“Rafe, no!” She lunged for the door.
Simon pushed her away. His face filled with fury.
She dug her fingers into his arm and pulled with all her strength. “Run, Rafe. Run!”
“Shut up.” Simon’s fist caught her off guard. Pain exploded in her head as the sharp blow landed her across the room.
The rough stone wall knocked the air from her lungs.
She crumpled to the floor and tried to catch her breath.
Lights danced behind her eyes, dizziness overwhelmed.
The coppery taste of blood seeped into her mouth as she swept her hand across her lips.
She had to get up. Rafe needed her.
Clawing the wall, she climbed to her knees.
“Stay down.” Simon gave a vicious kick to her ribs.
“I’ll be back for you.”
Maggie groaned and curled into a ball, trying to protect her stomach. Waves of nausea threatened as she dropped her head to the cool stone floor.
She had to get up.
****
Rafe dropped Moses’ reins and yanked his pistol from the holster. Maggie’s screams made his stomach crawl into his throat
. Moses whickered and another horse answered. Rafe glanced into the barn. A large saddled black stood in the dim room.
Someone was in the cabin with her.
Dread slithered down his spine. Christ, please don’t let it be Simon.
Sweat poured down his face and slicked his hands.
He had to get to her, but he’d already lost his greatest advantage, the element of surprise. Could he sneak through the tunnel without making any noise?
The door opened. Too late. Whoever was there was going to die.
Rafe took aim. Maybe this would be easier than he’d thought.
“Hello, brother.” Simon stepped to the doorway. He kept his gun arm curled inside as he leaned casually against the frame, calling the greeting as if they were friends instead of fatal enemies. “Nice little place you have here.” He nodded inside. “I especially like your woman.”
Blood roared in Rafe’s ears as he cocked his gun.
“Get out here and settle this like a man.” He had to get Simon away from Maggie before he—what if he already had?
Simon shook his head. “Drop your gun first. Then we’ll talk.”
Damn it. If he didn’t have a weapon, he didn’t stand a chance.
“Do it,” Simon yelled, “or I’ll kill her right now.” He motioned with his gun, and then smiled, the same madness Shane had shown, flickering in his eyes. “You know I will.”
He would. Rafe tossed his pistol in front of him.
“There. Now come here. This is between you and me.
Leave her out of it.”
Simon grinned as he stepped outside and slammed the door. “Don’t think I can do that. She’s mighty sweet.
Warm and willing.”
“Shut up, you bastard.”
“Better look in the mirror. A nd what’s this I hear about you making your own little bastard?” Rafe clenched his fists and forced himself to think. He couldn’t let Simon provoke him. Maggie needed him alive. “What do you want?”
“Come on, now. I’ve waited years to kill you.” He grinned. “Don’t take away my pleasure by pretending you don’t know.”
Rafe’s pulse hammered against his ribs. He had to stay calm. Wolf waited in the trees. A t Rafe’s command, he would attack, but at this angle Simon would have a clear shot at the dog. Wait for an opening. Don’t let him bait you.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Simon.”
“It wouldn’t be like this if you hadn’t killed Shane. He didn’t deserve what you did to him.” Simon stepped toward Rafe, his face twisted in anger. “Nobody but you gave a damn about some rebel whore.” The veins stood out on his forehead as he spoke. “But you just couldn’t let it be.” The words gritted between his teeth.
“He was a rapist.” Rafe regretted the words as soon as they were out.
Hatred filled Simon’s eyes. “He was my brother!” The words exploded from his mouth, then a cold, eerie calm settle around him. “See, your trouble is you just don’t know when a woman’s really wanting it. That reb whore probably wanted Shane. A nd your woman…” A cold fear settled in Rafe’s gut. “Well, at first she acted like she didn’t want me.” Simon adjusted his groin. “But it wasn’t long until she begged me to fuck her. Why, right now she’s on the bed waiting for more.”
Rage boiled through him, his heart pounding so loud surely Simon could hear it.
It would be the last thing the bastard ever heard.
Rafe didn’t need a gun. He would tear Simon apart with his bare hands. Hurtling across the space that separated them, he tackled Simon to the ground. Two shots went wide as they wrestled for the pistol.
Wolf loped from the underbrush, growling and circling the men.
“Get back, Wolf!”
Simon rolled to his feet and pulled back the hammer, but Rafe plowed into him, knocking them both to the wet ground. The gun flew from Simon’s hand and landed with a plop in the mud.
“I’m gonna kill you.” Rafe didn’t recognize his own voice. Fury, hatred overtook him. He hit Simon again and again, pouring all the anger he felt into the punches.
“You son of a bitch. You’re dead. Nobody hurts her.
Nobody!”
Straddling Simon’s chest, Rafe slid his hands around the man’s throat. He wanted to watch the life drain from his stepbrother’s evil blue eyes. He wanted Simon to pay slowly for what he’d done to Maggie.
A nd this time when his stepbrother was dead, Rafe wouldn’t feel one ounce of remorse.
****
Two gunshots sounded outside, and Maggie’s heart jumped into her throat, threatening to cut off her air.
Rafe. Oh, God. Rafe! She clamored to her knees, clawing the rock wall to get to her feet.
Fear raced through her as she stumbled to the window and looked out. She nearly collapsed in relief.
The men tumbled on ground, fighting. There was still time.
Her face throbbed and her ribs ached from the beating, but she hobbled toward the larder. Her body trembled as she heaved against the crate that hid the tunnel.
Hurry. Hurry. Rafe needs you.
She dropped to her knees and crawled through the dark passage until she found the ladder. There was no time to light the candle. A s soon as she reached the ledge and moved the board, the sun would light the cavern.
Sweat ran down her back, but she shivered as she climbed. Dread filled her body. It took an eternity to reach the top. Kneeling on the ledge, she reached for the board covering the hole. What if she made too much noise? She held her breath and tried to hear the men.
Silence surrounded her. What if it was too late? She said a prayer and scooted one piece of rough wood aside.
Bright sunlight flooded down onto the guns. Thank God, Rafe kept them loaded and ready. She grabbed the rifle and poked her head through the opening.
The men fought on the ground, rolling in the snow and mud. Painful sounds of flesh pounding flesh met her ears. Cursing each other they kicked and punched, each trying to obtain the advantage.
Nausea threatened as she slid the rifle free and climbed out of the tunnel. She flattened herself on her stomach, wincing in pain. The damp earth soaked through her torn shirt as she balanced the gun on a fallen log. She squinted at the site on the end of the barrel.
Damn! Her battered eye blurred her vision. Taking aim again, she tried to steady the gun on Simon.
Panic swept over her. What if she missed Simon and shot Rafe? They were so close, too close. A lways in motion. First one would gain control, then the other.
Hitting a still target was one thing. Rafe could walk right into the bullet meant for Simon.
But did she have a choice?
She blinked several times, but her vision didn’t clear, and her hands wouldn’t quit shaking. The pain streaking through her body made it near impossible to hold the rifle.
Taking a deep, painful breath, she gripped with all her strength and stared down the barrel.
The men clawed at the ground each trying to reach a pistol that lay nearby. Rafe was on his back when Simon came at him. One vicious kick sent the evil man staggering.
Maggie’s heart pounded as Rafe crawled toward the gun. He almost had it…
Simon dragged him backward. He punched Rafe’s face repeatedly, then grabbed the weapon.
No! Maggie gripped her rifle. Rafe didn’t move. Was he unconscious?
“This ends now,” Simon snarled. “I’m finished playing.”
He wiped blood from his lip and stood over Rafe.
Maggie heard the click as he pulled back the hammer.
He was going to kill Rafe.
She squinted and took aim. Tightened her finger on the trigger. Snap! Part of the board gave way beneath her leg.
Simon whirled and pointed the gun at her.
“No, Maggie!” Rafe sprang from the ground and tackled Simon to his knees.
Sliding his knife free, Rafe plunged the blade between Simon’s ribs, twisting the knife as the man fell backward.
Maggie couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see past all the blood. Was Rafe hurt? So much blood. She slouched to the ground as black dots danced before her eyes.
Rafe climbed off Simon’s body and reeled toward the hill. Maggie! Christ, he couldn’t see her. She had to be safe. Had to. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. Just her and the baby.
“Maggie!” He tore across the yard. “Maggie, answer me!”
Holy Christ! Why didn’t she answer? Had Simon fired a shot? Was she wounded?
Rafe scrambled up the hill, his boots sliding over the icy slope. Clawing, stretching, searching. Damn it. He needed something to grab on to. Digging through the snow, he found a single root sticking out of the rocks. He used it as a toe-hold and slithered over the edge on his belly.
Maggie lie sprawled, half in, half out of the tunnel’s entrance. Lifeless, like a broken porcelain doll. Her dark hair fanned over the wet ground, her pale hand still clutching the rifle. Rafe crawled beside her, tears rolling down his face. A nger and guilt sliced at his heart. Was she dead?
“Maggie?” He gathered her into his arms and shuddered with relief. She was still warm, still breathing.
“Rafe,” she groaned. “I hurt.”
“Where, sweetheart?” He cradled her between his legs. “A re you shot?” His hands skated her body.
“Not that.” Her face twisted in pain. “My stomach,” she choked. “The baby. I’m think I’m losing the baby.
Simon kicked me.”
Rafe felt all the blood drain from his face. She couldn’t lose their baby.
“No, sweetheart. The baby will be fine.” He plucked her off the ground and slid down the snowy hill on his ass, clutching Maggie to his chest. She trembled in his arms.
“But what if…?” Her voice was tiny, scared.
“You won’t,” he promised, but dread crawled up his spine.
A minute later, he crashed though the cabin door.
The bed seemed a mile away, and Maggie whimpered in pain with each hurried step he took.
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