“Lacey, please. You’re my wife—”
“Wife! You mean your bought-and-paid-for whore, don’t you? I haven’t forgotten about the money or the lies. I despise the thought of being called your wife. I hate the thought of you touching me. I don’t want you. I never want you near me. The very thought of you sickens me.”
Lacey found herself free. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the words already said. His eyes pierced her like daggers. Without a word he shoved her away from him, but when she turned to run from him, he grabbed the waistband of her pants and hauled her back. Tripping her down, he fell heavily on top of her. With her breath knocked from her, Lacey couldn’t struggle.
He levered up to turn her around, roughly taking hold of her chin. “Look at me. No shy bridal hiding, Lacey. Show me the whore I bought.” With a savage oath he used his knife to slice open her pant leg and tore them away. “You called me a savage. Was I ever that with you? I loved you. You’re mine. But you want to feed off hate,” he whispered, settling his body tight to hers. “When I’m finished with you, you’ll feel enough hate to last a lifetime,” he intoned with soft, murderous fury, ripping open his pants.
“Rafe! Don’t do this. Don’t destroy—”
“You already did that.”
He took her mouth as he took her body, plunging them both into hell. She bucked against him like a wild mare being saddle broke for the first time. But the rage that was unleashed, rage he couldn’t control, became a punishment for both of them.
“Hate me,” he grated. Her silence, her very stillness seemed to enrage him further. His fingers gripped her hips to raise her higher. And his mouth closed over hers.
Lacey twisted her head away. Her throat closed as her body betrayed her, but there was an agony in her soul that would never heal. A rasping sound tore free from her lips, and she found the strength to answer him.
“I can’t hate you. I don’t feel anything that strong for you, Rafe. There’s nothing now.”
But there was. There was the violation of her soul and his.
When he rolled away from her in disgust, Rafe slid his hand over her shoulder before he hunkered back on his heels and stared at her.
Lacey believed his face was a mask of her own. She saw the pain reflected in his eyes and felt it was a memory burned forever in time. She lay sprawled where he left her and watched him hitch up his pants. Without a word he walked away.
For long minutes she didn’t move. What had happened to them? What triggered this violence between them? Had she driven him to … No! She couldn’t accept all the blame. She wanted to talk to him, but when he came back, leading the two horses, tersely ordering her to dress, she said nothing.
Her shift was tom in two. He slit the center of one half for a poncho. She ignored his gesture to help her mount.
Aching, she followed him back to the renegade camp.
At the edge he drew rein and dismounted. He made no move toward her. He had hurt her, and the knowledge brought a shiver from his gut to his soul.
His silence was painful. She gazed at his hands clenched at his sides and tried to remember when they held her with tenderness. His black eyes, forbidding as she was drawn to them, seemed to refute her pleading gaze. Lacey turned away, unable to bear the sight of him.
“Wait here, Lacey. I’ll get Luke. He’ll take you home.”
His voice was calm and chilling. She nodded. “Yes. I need to go home. I need Maggie.”
She sounded like a wounded child, and it tore into him. “No!” The fury exploded all over again. “You don’t need Maggie. You don’t need anyone but me. Here is where you belong.” Rafe kicked the earth at his feet. “Here by me. Nowhere else. And … no one else.”
He waited and hoped and offered a prayer for some sign, a cry, a word, some damn thing! But Lacey slumped on the horse’s back, staring through him. He turned his back and walked away.
Lacey knew the choice was hers. She could follow him and try to mend this breach. But she wasn’t sure that she wanted to try. Shivers racked her body in the fading aftermath of shocked reaction. Would it change anything if she went after him? Somehow she didn’t think it would. Neither bent well for another. Pride … perhaps that was one reason. The only way they came together was to cool the savage desire between them, and now that, too, was destroyed.
“Luke’s waiting for you,” Rafe said suddenly at her side, handing her a blanket. “Think before you go, Lacey. You’re my wife. Your place is with me. When you decide what you want, I’ll be waiting for you. And wherever I am, that’s where our home will be.”
She had no answer to give him. Weary beyond thinking and shaking with uncontrollable shivers, Lacey reached down inside herself to find strength. She found tattered bits of her pride.
Pride took her in hand, and she looked at Rafe.
She couldn’t face his violence again. He had broken her for the last time.
Slowly then, clutching the blanket, she turned the horse away.
Chapter 25
Morning sunlight, bringing with it the first sweltering heat of the day, streaked across the golden wood floor of Lacey’s bedroom. She lay on her bed, telling herself, as she had for the past two months, that today Rafe would come home.
She didn’t want to remember the few days it had taken her and Luke to make their way back to the Reina. Luke had little to say after he told her he had found Bo James dead at the bottom of a ravine. They had taken his body home to Reina and buried him beside her mother. Never once had she looked back. Rafe wasn’t going to follow her. Not then. They both needed time apart.
Once she was home, Lacey offered no protest to Maggie’s fussing. She made no effort to appease the worry evident in Maggie’s eyes each time she looked at her.
The only spark of interest she had managed to show was when Captain Chase had come a few weeks ago, telling her that he had seen Rafe. Some of the renegade band had escaped, but they stopped the guns from going with them. There were other bands that he had to track, and Rafe had offered to help him.
But there was no message for her.
“No,” she could still hear him say regretfully, “I’m sorry. Rafe didn’t say anything.” She had hated to beg, hated to see the pity in the captain’s eyes.
But that had been weeks ago, she reminded herself, and still there was no word of him.
Even gruff Matt McCabe, when he returned with news that most of the cattle had been found, couldn’t rouse her from the deathlike lethargy settled so snugly around her. She had answered his questions as best she could. When he was done questioning her, she knew he and Hank had returned to Austin.
Restlessly she turned, punching the pillow beneath her head, letting her thoughts drift, hating herself for the crushing weight of pain that tore across her insides when she thought of Rafe. How could she stop herself from thinking about him? She curled tight on the bed, her hands cradling her stomach.
Would he ever come back, or was it, in truth, finally over? Surely, she consoled herself, he would come back for his share of the Reina. And the money? The judge had come and given it all to her. He wouldn’t tell her if he had seen Rafe. And Rafe wanted the money, didn’t he?
But she was no longer sure of anything that dealt with Rafe, not even if he loved her.
She brushed aside the tears that started, knowing that they came far too easily now. Once she had been strong enough never to cry, but Rafe had changed that from the very first day. Rafe … always Rafe … haunting her every waking moment and thought.
Even at night her dreams gave her no solace, for the blackness surrounding her brought to mind his eyes. Tender and passionate, gleaming with devilry, sparkling with laughter, even his anger came to haunt her. She missed him desperately. How could she forget him?
Sometimes she was driven in desperation from her bed, unable to sleep.
And she stole into his room to touch his things, imagining the still warm scent of him near, and for a little while the ache inside her would ease, and she would find herself in the morning asleep across his bed.
But there was no real peace inside her, and she knew until they faced each other again, there never would be.
It seemed as if all her emotions had been left with him.
Except pain.
Berating herself to stop, as she had done a hundred times past, Lacey heard Maggie walking outside in the courtyard. When she didn’t come in, Lacey grew curious. She rose and went to her door, but stopped from opening it when she heard Maggie talking to someone.
Lacey’s heart began to pound. It couldn’t be, she told herself in one breath and in the next thought that maybe Rafe had come back.
But instead of flinging open the door to see, Lacey wearily returned to sit on her bed. She didn’t have the strength to face him.
Maggie knocked a few minutes later and opened the door. “Good, you’re up an’ it’s ’bout time, too. You got a visitor, so let’s get you dressed without any jawin’.” She went to the wardrobe and pulled out a pale green gown that was sprigged with tiny white bows. She shook out the folds and held it up for Lacey’s inspection. “Reckon this will do you nicely.”
Rousing herself, Lacey looked from the gown back to Maggie. “Who’s here that I need to wear a gown?”
“It’s not Rafe, honey,” she answered quickly, hating to see the flare of hope die in Lacey’s eyes. “It’s Tom Darcy, and I think you should see him.”
“In the trappings of a woman?”
“That’s what you are. Can’t go an’ change things, now, can you?”
Lacey was too beaten to argue. Shrugging her shoulders, she said softly, “Tell Darcy to wait in the office. I’ll get dressed.”
“Already done that.” Maggie came to her side and gave her a quick hug. “In a few weeks you’ll feel more like yourself, honey. Draggin’ ’round and wishin’ ain’t gonna make it happen any different.”
Maggie closed her door, muttering to herself. “Damn country ain’t the only thin’ that ain’t been reconstructed yet. Put mules head to head an’ it’s more’n a body could handle at times. Iffen I had my way…” Moments later she was outside, calling for Fletcher.
Lacey knew that Maggie had been angry, but then, she had been for weeks. Dressing was a chore, but she took the time to brush and braid her hair, wondering why Darcy had come. Captain Chase had told her how hard he had taken the news of Evan’s death. She felt pity for the prideful old man who had learned what his son had become. Filled with a vague unease, she struggled to dismiss it.
Shock hit Lacey like a hardfisted blow when she stepped into the office and faced the haggard blue eyes of a man suddenly old and beaten. His once broad shoulders sagged, and his voice as he turned to face her, once filled with arrogance and pride, faltered when he spoke.
“It was good of you to see me, Lacey. I hope, well, you don’t mind that I helped myself to some of Sy’s brandy?”
“No. No, of course not,” she answered, coming to sit behind the desk. She didn’t want to stare and reveal how upsetting the changes in him were.
“As if he had read her thoughts, he chuckled softly. “Don’t hide it, Lacey. I’m gettin’ used to it, you know. But then, I didn’t come here to talk about me or what happened to Evan.”
“Then why did you come?”
“I rode over to give you these.” He reached into the pocket of his somber gray jacket and removed a sheaf of papers, which he tossed on the desk in front of her.
Lacey stared at them but made no move to touch them.
“Go on,” he urged. “They ain’t gonna bite you. Take a look at them.”
Lacey’s clumsy fingers tore at the string tied around them. After she opened and read the first one, she looked up at Darcy. A welter of confusion danced across her mind.
“Why are you giving these to me? I thought this was what you always wanted.”
“Once, I did,” he admitted. “Once the dream of having all of the Reina for my own drove me. But you don’t want to hear about an old man’s dreams. Let it suffice to say that it doesn’t matter anymore. They’re yours.”
“Curt bought these notes. How did you get hold of them?”
“I didn’t mean to rile your temper, young woman, and I know how hot the itch gets to set your tongue to waggin’, but you sit and listen to me.”
“By what right do you dare come here and order—”
“By the right those notes give me. You can’t meet them, can you?” Resentment flared in her eyes as he watched, and she shook her head. “I thought not. But I can call them in anytime I want to.”
Anger rose. Vaguely Lacey realized that it was for the first time since she had left Rafe. But there was more at stake than keeping the Reina for herself. “I still have time to meet these notes, Darcy. Are you telling me that you’ll deny that?”
He didn’t answer, and Lacey nervously played with the edge of the papers. If Rafe were here, she would have the money to pay him off. But he wasn’t, and she didn’t dare use it. If Rafe came back and demanded what was his and found it gone, Lacey knew if he wanted to, he could make her pay in ways she didn’t want to imagine. Her only hope was to convince him to give her time.
“Guess you stewed long enough,” he said. “Before your feathers get ruffled any higher, I’ll tell you that I don’t want the notes. They cost my son his life, and my daughter ran off when she found out what he’d been doin’. Lit out with that no ’count Farel. Evan shamed me. Can’t figure his reasonin’, even now.”
He lapsed into a brooding silence, and Lacey dismissed the thought of telling him why Evan had turned on him or the part she had unknowingly played.
“Why did Curt give you the notes?” Lacey asked.
“They had agreed to it. Him and Evan. They both knew how much I hated Sy for costin’ me cattle. An’ I don’t know why Curt was lookin’ to hurt you. Guess we’ll never know the truth.”
“No, I guess not. But I can’t just take these. There must be something you want as a fair exchange.”
“Nothin’. Don’t matter now.”
He was, she noticed, a bit unsteady as he stood, slowly straightening his jacket. She was confused by what he had done and didn’t know what else to say.
Darcy turned when he reached the door. “There’s one thin’ more, young woman. Don’t be a fool over what happened with Rafe Parrish. Doc told me some, the rest I can guess. You married the man. The land can’t talk to you, girl, or share your pain. I know that now. We were wrong, me and Sy. The land ain’t all there is. Let there be an end to the bitterness between us, Lacey. We both lost. Pride cost me my children. Pride, if you let it, will cost you more.” When she looked up again, he was gone. Staring at the door, his lingering words brought a renewal of pain. He was right about the Reina—it had cost her dearly.
But what could she do now? Rafe wasn’t here for her to tell him he was right, too. Home was only with him. Without him all she had worked for, fought for, and denied to herself was meaningless. She knew it now that it was too late.
Leaning her head down, she massaged her aching temples. Eventually Rafe would come home. Until then she had to stop thinking about him. With an inward cry of despair she knew it would be easier to ask herself to stop breathing.
When Maggie came looking for her, carrying a lunch tray, Lacey was still sitting at the desk, finishing a glass of brandy.
“Didn’t you hear me callin’?” she demanded upon entering. “Land sakes, Lacey, I don’t know what’s happened to you!”
“Don’t you?”
“Right. I do. But you ain’t got a lick of sense—”
“You’re right, Maggie, I don’t. But I already decided that for myself.” She smiled up
at Maggie’s stunned face and nibbled on a ham-filled biscuit.
“Well? Ain’t you gonna tell me what he wanted?”
“Darcy?”
“Yes, Darcy. You seem mighty slow-witted, Lacey. What’s that paper you’re hidin’? How much whiskey did you drink?”
“Brandy, Maggie. One glass and I didn’t quite finish it.” She chewed the last bite of biscuit, swallowed, and moved the notes so Maggie could see. “Darcy had the notes that Curt bought up. He gave—”
“Oh, Lord, I knew it! I told Fletcher somethin’ bad was gonna happen. Now you’ll be glad that I did. He wants you to pay them off, don’t he? You can’t do it.”
“Well, I’m glad you stopped long enough to let me finish. That’s not what happened. He gave them to me. Signed them over, paid in full.”
“Jus’ like that without askin’ for nothin’?”
“He said he’d lost enough.” She met Maggie’s gaze, and her eyes blurred with tears. “Just the way I’ve lost Rafe.”
“Didn’t think he meant all that much to you to begin with,” Maggie snapped.
“Maggie! How can you say that? I married him, didn’t I? You know I loved him—”
“So! That’s jus’ what I mean,” she calmly interrupted. “Can’t say you love him now, can you? You wouldn’t sit in Sy’s chair an’ lie to me ’bout how much you care for him?”
Confused by the way Maggie seemed to be baiting her, Lacey rose to her feet and leaned over the desk. “I do love him, damn you! I even forgive him for what he did to me. I wish to God I had the chance to tell him that!”
Western Winds Page 31