A heavy shudder rocked her, bringing Kane’s protective instincts to the fore. He tucked her against him, rocking her gently, although he couldn’t say who benefited more from the soothing motion.
His mind raced as he felt the tremors in her body—or was it his? He knew she hadn’t imagined all this. Her recount had been too visceral. There had to be some explanation. But Kane couldn’t see it. It was obvious that Perkins was so desperate to keep this quiet that when he discovered he couldn’t control her, he’d tried to have her silenced on a permanent basis. Something she’d said niggled at his brain, but he couldn’t make himself concentrate.
Now he did shudder. With revulsion and disgust. “Bastard,” he muttered softly. “Bastard!” he shouted.
Annie jumped at his furious blast, then huddled even more closely against him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, pressing his cheek against her hair and stroking a hand down her back. “So that’s when you left him?”
“I’d never seen him like that. His face was so … contorted. And his voice … He’d always had this even, moderate tone. So low-key. I thought it was so soothing. Nothing seemed to ruffle him. He prided himself on always being in control. He liked to control.” She laughed. It was a vacant, hollow sound. “Lord knows he controlled me, and I didn’t even realize it.”
“Don’t say any more. It’s—”
“I used to envy him that,” she broke in, as if unaware he’d spoken. “I wished I could be so steady, so confident. It was one of the reasons I agreed to marry him.”
“Annie—”
“But that night, that night his voice was so … cold.” She shivered, Kane knew she was deep in the memory of that evening three months ago. “He was almost … manic. He did threaten me I guess, but I still didn’t really believe he’d hurt me. I mean, people use expressions like ‘I’ll kill you’ all the time. I didn’t take it literally.”
“Annie, stop—”
But she didn’t. He knew she had to get through this, once she’d started to purge herself of this ugliness she had to keep on until it was all gone. He hated it. Hated that he couldn’t take on this burden for her.
“I figured I’d move out for a while. Let him settle down. Maybe see if he’d agree to go to a therapist or something.” She shook her head, again the sound of her empty laugh echoed across the lawn. “Lord, I was so naive. I can’t believe I actually thought—”
“Annie, of course you didn’t think he’d really want you dead. No one could fault you for that. It’s not wrong to put your trust and complete faith in the man you take for your husband.”
“Oh God, and to think how close I came …” she said distantly. Then, more strongly, she added, “But I should have seen. I didn’t … that is, my feelings for him weren’t that—” She broke off suddenly, then in a fervent whisper said, “I used to wonder what he saw in me. Why he’d gone after me at all. I didn’t travel in his circles. We met at a church function, and he made it his business to become a part of my life almost immediately. It was flattering and overwhelming. Now I realize he’d probably purposely looked for someone like me. Someone he could impress, someone he thought he could mold into his vision of a perfect corporate wife. All his suggestions and casual comments …”
Kane didn’t try to make sense of her jerky confession. He could barely take it all in. One sickening truth had wormed its way into his brain. And now that he’d given it a moment’s thought, he knew at a gut level that he was right.
“Find my wife, and I’ll make sure you never want for anything in your life.”
Perkins’s words on the day he’d hired him echoed through Kane’s mind. At the time he’d thought the man was being expansive about the wealth he commanded, a man used to dangling the enticement of money to get whatever he wanted.
In your life. He’d had a man tail Kane out of town. A hired killer. Probably the same one he’d sicced on Annie. Perkins had never had any intention of letting Kane have a life. Perkins was every bit the monster Annie said he was. What he wasn’t was stupid. Kane realized he could take Annie back right now and shout all over town that Sam Perkins was an unbalanced racist. Who would the town believe? Their pure-as-snow local bank president? Or a scorned wife and the half-breed she’d been living with out in the middle of nowhere? An Indian that the supposed racist had hired.
“We need proof he tried to have you killed,” Kane said, only half aware he’d spoken the thought out loud.
“Don’t you think I thought of that? And even if I had proof, who would I have taken it to? Half of Hunnicutt was at Joe’s house that night, many of them powerful people. I have no idea who else is in on it.”
Kane moved his hand down to cup her neck, tilting her head back. He locked his gaze on hers, willing her to believe with his eyes as much as his words in what he was about to say. “We’ll get him, Da’bEntcotc. He won’t get away with this.”
A soft smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. Her lips were softly swollen, as if she’d been biting them during her confession. The moonlight made her eyes appear the decadent shade of the darkest of chocolates.
“I like it when you call me that, whatever it means.”
Kane’s body tightened. Her soft voice was like a warm balm against nerves battered by the night’s revelations. “It means ‘little sun.’ ”
She lifted a hand to rake through her bright, tangled curls. “I’m not really a redhead, you know.” She let out a soft laugh. “As a matter of fact, I’m probably the only woman on earth with blond roots.”
Kane felt himself tighten in an entirely different way at the return of the warmth to her voice. “Red or blond, I wouldn’t care. That’s not why I call you that.”
“Why then?”
One quiet request, and whatever restraint he’d held on to through her exhausting recitation slipped through his grasp. He hardly gave it a thought as he slowly twined a strand of her hair around his finger. As if time no longer had meaning, he lightly traced the soft curl along the side of her jaw and down her throat. He let his eyes follow the motion, drawing the long burnished strand down over her T-shirt, to where her chest was pressed against his. He pressed the fiery tendril against his heart, then reached for her hand, placing it on top. “Do you feel that?”
He knew his pulse raced beneath her hand. There was no denying that she felt it.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You look at me, smile at me, even yell at me. And every time, this is what happens.” He placed his hand over hers, then lifted it to his jaw. Locking his gaze on hers, he pressed his cheek to her palm, knowing the bite of his new beard wouldn’t abrade her callused skin. He hated that fact, wanted her to be as sensitive to the merest touch of him as he was to her. He watched intently as her pupils dilated under his unwavering stare. Lord, she was something. “Smile for me.”
A short look of surprise crossed her face, but then slowly, like a new dawn or a freshly blossoming flower, her lips curved for him, then parted to show beautiful white shiny teeth. “That. That’s why I call you ‘little sun.’ ”
Her smile faltered. She held it for him, even as a single tear formed in the corner of one eye and slowly made its way down her cheek.
“Sweet Jesus, Annie, don’t,” he said in a raspy voice.
“I can’t help it.” She sniffed.
Kane steeled himself against the need to lower his mouth to hers, to taste her smile, to drink in the sunshine that poured from her soul and shone so brightly on his dark one. Giving him hope.
False hope.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Slowly, he set her away from him. “Say good night,” he answered roughly.
Her eyes widened a bit at his brusque request, but her smile remained. New and now somehow shy. It melted what was left of his heart.
“Good night, Hawk.”
Need for her knifed through him so hotly, he fought against bending double to stem it. He had to get the hell away from her before he did something neithe
r one of them would ever forgive him for.
“It’s been a long night,” he said, his voice so hoarse, it sounded like gravel. “Sleep late tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded a bit uncertain as she slowly disentangled herself from his lap. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
Kane had moved several steps away, but the soft vulnerability lacing her question made him turn around. He choked down the moan that rose in his throat. She looked so damn small and alone. He hated the uncertainty in her voice, but he didn’t dare risk even one step in her direction right now.
“We’ll talk more after you’ve gotten some rest.”
“Okay.” She paused as if about to say something else, then let herself in the back door.
Kane stood and stared through the rusted screen until the soft muted light of the propane lamp glowed from inside the kitchen.
He headed toward the bunkhouse, then abruptly altered his direction to the barn instead. Grabbing a fistful of black mane, he leapt quietly onto Sky Dancer’s bare back. Using the subtle pressure of his knees, he steered her carefully down the road leading to the stream, once again glad that the big bay had night eyes almost as good as his. And she never forgot a trail.
He reached a hand down and stroked the mare’s neck. She responded with a low rumbling whinny.
“What am I going to do, old girl? Hmm?”
The horse plodded onward, as silent as her rider.
Elizabeth groaned as she stood. She cast a baleful stare at the full bucket at her feet, trying to work up some enthusiasm to pick it up. She rubbed the small of her back and flexed her knees. The sudden sounds of repetitive banging brought her head up, and she turned to look at the barn in the distance.
Kane was back. She couldn’t see him from across the field, but she knew the clanging sounds were hammering and were likely coming from the barn.
What she didn’t know was where the hell he’d been.
Angry all of a sudden, she turned away, scanning the bramble patch she’d just picked clean. She’d found it earlier that morning when, after a night spent wrestling with her sheets—and her heart—she’d left the house for a mind-clearing walk. She’d watched Kane leave on horseback from her window the night before. He and Sky Dancer were nowhere to be seen when she’d left earlier that morning.
When she’d returned from her walk, she’d found Sky Dancer in the paddock, but still no sign of Kane. She’d even worked up the courage to check the bunkhouse, knowing she might well find him asleep in bed. But other than his gear piled in one corner, the building was empty.
Feeling suddenly confused and unsure, she’d grabbed a bucket and lit out to collect the sweet plump berries from the new cache she’d discovered.
Now he was back. Anger warred with an irritating, overwhelming sense of relief. How dare he wander off?
A moan slipped through her gritted teeth as she lifted the heavy bucket and started across the field. How dare he indeed, she mocked herself. “You’re lucky he didn’t saddle up and take off at a full gallop the moment you said the word ‘supremacist,’ ” she muttered. Swallowing the sudden sense of dread that clawed at her throat, she pinned her gaze on the ranch house and picked up her pace.
She’d intended to go directly inside and take care of the berries before confronting him, but halfway across the yard, a movement caught her attention.
She sucked in a sudden deep breath and stopped in her tracks. Kane was on the roof of the barn, on his knees, his powerful arms at work tearing up a piece of sheet metal. The motion put into play all of his well-defined muscles, holding her in a sort of thrall. He’d tied his long hair back in what looked like a piece of leather. The jeans he wore were faded and fit snugly against his thighs and … She gulped as she spied the split in the worn fabric just below the portion of his anatomy she’d been gawking at.
Even from this distance, she could see her first impression the day she’d met him had been correct. He was the same even brown shade all over.
She could have sworn she hadn’t made a sound, but Kane stopped suddenly and shifted around to face her, sitting with his arms resting on his bent knees.
“Hi.” His voice carried easily down to her.
Oh my, she thought, not handling the front view any better than she had the back. She set the buckets on the ground beside her. Apparently she’d underestimated her success in using a long walk and hours of mind-numbing work to clear her head.
“Where have you been?” she blurted out, frustrated by the seesawing emotions he always seemed to bring about in her.
“Wait there a minute,” was his only response.
With an animal grace she knew shouldn’t surprise her, he moved quickly to the edge of the roof closest to the ground. Without a sound, he flipped easily onto his stomach and slid off the side, until he hung by his fingertips. He dropped into a light crouch, straightened, and brushed himself off as he walked toward her.
Her mouth felt as if she’d licked the dust off of him. She couldn’t swallow, much less breathe. All she could think of as he drew closer was that she’d cuddled against that very chest the night before, had felt with her own hand the heart that beat so strongly under that dusty bronzed skin.
“You okay?”
His voice sounded rough to her, probably because she barely heard him above the thundering rush of blood pounding in her ears. His concerned expression was what finally grabbed her attention, and she felt the skin on her neck and cheeks heat as she wondered what he made of her obvious reaction to him.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She cleared her throat quietly and shifted her gaze to a point past his shoulder. She wanted to ask him again where he’d gone, where he’d been all morning, but suddenly she felt as if it weren’t really any of her business. And she didn’t think she could stand hearing him affirm that fact.
She lifted her gaze to the barn roof and kept it there, reverting to the one topic she did have the right to question him on. “I didn’t know you were going to work on the roof. Is it bad?”
“Not as bad as I’d expected. A couple of the sheets on one side are rusted, so I’m going to rip them up and switch them with better ones that cover the part of the barn we aren’t repairing.”
We. A tiny little word. Two letters. It was ridiculous that it should have an effect. Ridiculous and dangerous. She shifted her weight and cleared her throat again. “Good. Well, I have berries to rinse.” She bent down, and lifted the buckets. “I’d better be—”
“Annie, stop.” Kane raised a hand as if he meant to take her arm, but she took an automatic step out of his reach. The flicker of surprise—and hurt?—that crossed his face made her flinch, but she didn’t move closer. She didn’t trust herself where he was concerned right now. The previous night seemed like light-years ago. Now she couldn’t imagine being held in his arms. Not without wanting him to—
“I really need to get back to work,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even.
“What we really need is to talk.”
Anger flared in her, mercifully relieving her of the sudden excruciating awareness of him, of what he was coming to mean to her. “I was out here this morning first thing, but you were nowhere to be found. I couldn’t waste the entire day waiting for you to decide to show up.” She looked away, dismally wishing she’d been able to control her temper.
“I’m sorry.”
His quiet tone jerked her head around. “Where did you go? I was … I worried.”
She noticed his hands clench into fists at his sides, and she wondered if he’d wanted to reach for her again. She fought the heat that loosened her muscles, making her want to shift closer to him, to reach for him first.
“It … couldn’t be helped.”
Something else was flickering in his eyes now, something she couldn’t put a label on. “Why?”
He ran a swift assessing look around them, scanning the fringes of her property with an efficiency that made a chill race down her spine.
“Hawk
?” she queried softly. “What’s wrong?”
Sky Dancer whinnied from the barn, and Kane went completely still. “I want you to go inside the house and stay there, okay?”
This time she was unable to tamp down the cold fear that sliced through her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Not now. Just go in the house. I’m … let me wash up, and I’ll come in and we’ll finish our talk.”
Instinctively she reached for his arm before he could turn away. “Tell me,” she demanded, her voice hushed as his had been. His skin was dusty and hot under her fingers, she could feel his pulse pounding steadily in the ridged vein of his bicep. Her senses vibrated as if the beat were inside her instead of under her fingertips.
She barely had time to process the thought before he turned back and took both of her arms in his hands.
“Do you trust me, Annie?” His gaze was forceful, unwavering.
“I want to.”
“Do as I asked,” he said, his expression shuttered again. “Please,” he added, surprising her. “I’ll explain everything as soon as I get back.”
She tightened her hold, his bicep twitching in response to her touch. “Get back? From where?” She hated the sound of panic in her voice, but there was no help for it. “Don’t go,” she begged without knowing exactly why. His eyes darkened, something she hadn’t thought possible. He looked the savage now, fierce and indomitable. Tremors rocked her, and this time they were her own.
“I’ll keep you safe, little sun.” He turned her toward the house. “Go.”
She whirled around to tell him it wasn’t her safety she was concerned about, but he was racing on sure, light feet across the ground toward the barn. “Be careful,” she whispered, then turned and did as he’d asked.
She knew she’d only been in the house for thirty minutes, but she felt as if she’d lived two lifetimes. She relived every nuance of her most recent encounter with Kane, damning herself for her preoccupation with his effect on her. What had she missed? Why had he left the night before and again that morning? Was it related to whatever he was doing now?
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