The Outlaw's Heart

by Amy Sandas

  “Maybe I’ll give Ramsey another chance to make this right.”

  Gabriel frowned. “You think that’s a good idea?” The kidnapping was not the first thing Ramsey had messed up with his carelessness and lack of attention to detail. In Gabriel’s opinion, the kid was a risk.

  Luke lifted a brow. “If we don’t give him a chance to prove himself, he’ll never be able to.”

  Something in Luke’s tone had Gabriel wondering if their leader saw something of himself in the newest and youngest member of their gang.

  Luke pushed his chair back across the wooden floor as he rose to his feet. “It smells to me like Johnny’s been cooking. How ’bout some breakfast?”

  Gabriel should have refused. Any other time the offer had been given, that’s what he’d done, preferring to keep to himself even when in the valley. He’d built his place just so he wouldn’t have to congregate in the bunkhouse. It wasn’t that he specifically disliked the others’ company; he just wasn’t a sociable sort.

  But this time, he found himself saying, “Sure.”

  The swift return of amusement in Luke’s sideways glance was obvious and irritating, so Gabriel ignored it.

  The two men made their way out to the main room.

  “Anything left for us?” Luke asked as he strode toward the stove.

  “You know I always make way too much,” Johnny replied. “My eyes are always bigger than my stomach.”

  He had finished off the plate in front of him and was stretched out in his spot at the table with long legs spread wide and one elbow hooked on the back of his chair. Anyone else would be in danger of toppling to the floor, but Johnny had a way of being comfortable with even the oddest arrangement of his limbs.

  Gabriel stopped midway between the kitchen and the dining table. His gaze was lured to the woman seated across from Johnny. She sat facing away from him with the straight-spined posture and untouchable demeanor he’d become familiar with. She was still dressed in the blue flowered dress he’d borrowed from the clothing Luke’s sister had left behind when she and her family moved into town. Her hair, the color of corn silk, was secured at her nape to fall in a tangle down the center of her back.

  “You just gonna stand there, or you gonna eat?” Luke asked as he passed by with a full plate.

  Gabriel turned to get himself some coffee. He’d already eaten. He’d been up since dawn and had needed to waste some time before heading over to the bunkhouse. It was bad enough Luke and Johnny would wonder at him being there—he didn’t need to show up before anyone else had even rolled from their beds.

  Turning to the table with his hand wrapped around a hot mug, he suddenly felt awkward and too large and completely out of place in the semidomestic setting.

  The table could easily seat ten people, or more if need be, though that was usually only necessary during the Christmas holiday. Luke’s sister, Honey, still insisted on coming back to throw a big feast every year, even though she hadn’t lived in the valley for the last couple of winters.

  Luke took a seat at the far end of the table in his usual spot where he had the best view of the front door and the short hall that led out back. As Gabriel pulled out the chair at the end of the table close to the door, Eve slid her eyes in his direction. The blue of her gaze, so soft and shadowed, tightened the muscles that wrapped his ribs and crossed his abdomen.

  For the first time in almost twenty years, Gabriel felt a sense of responsibility for someone else. In all the time he’d been with Luke and the gang, his concern had never extended beyond whatever task he was assigned to complete.

  Every now and then, he’d enjoyed the company of a woman eager to share his bed, but it had been a while since the last one. And the women had only been interested in knowing him in the most basic, physical way. Which had always been fine with him. He’d never had an interest in anything more either.

  Gabriel preferred simplicity. And solitude.

  So, why the hell was he here again?

  The fringe of lashes that framed the poignant blue gaze lowered briefly as Eve glanced away again. Her attention had been on him for no more than a few seconds, but Gabriel’s body responded with instant tension that ran from the back of his neck down to his heels.

  Right. That’s why.

  He shifted his gaze to see both Luke and Johnny watching him again.

  He should’ve stayed away.

  Before he could consider sending a silent message to both of them to back off, the sound of horses approaching had them all scraping back their chairs as they rose to their feet.

  “George and Ramsey,” Johnny muttered from his position near the window before turning away to swipe up his plate. “You done?” he asked.

  Gabriel glanced over to see Eve giving a small nod.

  Johnny grabbed her plate and headed to the kitchen while Luke resumed his place at the table. Gabriel saw it all in his peripheral vision because his eyes had locked on Eve and hadn’t left.

  She sat stiff and silent. Her face had been drained of all color, and her eyes were dark with an inner terror she was desperately trying to control as she stared hard at the window.

  The sound of new arrivals had sent her into a petrified panic.

  Gabriel willed her to look at him.

  And she did.

  Her eyes flickered toward him without her moving her head. She seemed almost frozen in place. Holding her frightened gaze, he noted the way she intently slowed her breathing, then forced herself to relax.

  “You’re safe.” Gabriel didn’t realize he’d said the words aloud until he saw her give a tiny nod before she looked away again.

  He glanced toward Luke, who had witnessed the whole thing and was now staring at Eve himself. When he glanced back at Gabriel, his jaw was stern and his eyes hard.

  Gabriel said nothing more as the front door swung open to admit a long-striding Ramsey into the bunkhouse with Gentleman George following at a more sedate stroll.

  Gabriel stepped to the side and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as the youngest member of their gang gave a low whistle. “Dang, that food smells good,” Ramsey declared as he made straight for the skillet still warm on the stove.

  “Where’ve you two been?” Luke asked, shoving his empty plate forward and leaning back in his chair.

  Gentleman George—named for the cultured British accent and the fine manners that were too ingrained in him to shake despite his line of work—offered an explanation. “We encountered a spot of trouble on our way back and had to take a bit of a detour.”

  “You weren’t followed?”

  George arched a russet brow. “Of course not.”

  Ramsey swung into a chair near Eve and gave her a wide wink. “Hiya. Don’t you look fresh and pretty this morning.”

  Luke stood. “In my office,” he said curtly.

  Ramsey glanced up in surprise. “But I just sat down to eat.”

  Luke didn’t wait for compliance as he headed off down the hallway, knowing Ramsey would follow.

  “Shit,” the kid muttered under his breath before he pushed off from the table.

  “Excellent,” George said, eagerly taking the seat Ramsey had vacated and lifting the discarded fork. “I bloody well love it when you cook, Johnny.”

  “Well, that’s the last of it,” the lanky outlaw replied. “Ramsey’s gonna be pissed.”

  The red-haired Brit gestured with his fork as he spoke around a mouthful of food. “That pup has been a royal pain in my arse for the last few days. He owes me. I cannot understand why in bloody hell Luke agreed to let him join us.”

  “You know the kid’s story,” Johnny replied.

  “Well, he’s wild. And not too bright,” George added, sending a flickering glance toward Eve where she sat stiffly at the table, watching the others with tension still running high through her
frame.

  Johnny shrugged. “Luke’ll set him straight.”

  With that, a muffled shout could be heard coming from the back office. A moment later, Ramsey came stomping down the hall, taking a turn toward the back door with his chin down and his shoulders tense about his ears.

  “Where you headin’, kid?” Johnny asked.

  “Gotta muck out the horse stalls” was the grumbled reply.

  George’s hearty laughter filled the room. “That’s the third time he’s been given that chore out of turn since he got here. He’ll either learn, or he’ll spend more time in the barn than in the bunkhouse.”

  “I ain’t complainin’,” Johnny replied with a wide grin.

  Twenty-One

  Eve watched the others interact with wary curiosity. She wasn’t sure what she would have expected if she’d ever considered wondering how outlaws might behave around each other. But it wasn’t this. Despite the fact that every man wore a gun or two belted around his hips—with the exception of Gabriel who carried no weapon she could see—they seemed more like a rowdy little family than a gang of ruthless criminals.

  She glanced to where Gabriel stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over the solid breadth of his chest. With his dark eyes assessing, his large, muscled body always seeming to be on the verge of action despite its steady stillness.

  The fact that no one seemed thrown off by his silence suggested it was a typical occurrence. She had wondered if his lack of conversation during the journey here had been specific to her company.

  But she realized now that it was his natural tendency.

  She had often been accused of being too quiet and unsociable. Only Courtney and Alexandra had understood that Eve sometimes preferred to observe for a bit before engaging, and she had never really been an effusive person. She tended to internalize things rather than share them.

  That was one of the reasons Matthew had been drawn to her. He’d admitted as much shortly before their wedding. At the time she’d been flattered by the idea that he appreciated her more inward nature.

  Now, she knew better.

  It had made it far too easy for him to isolate her from the people she had been close to in order to ensure he was the only one left for her to rely on.

  She could see now that she had never been Matthew’s wife. She had been nothing more than a possession for him to mold and toy with for his own amusement and to boost his grandiose sense of self-worth.

  Eve only wished she had seen the truth sooner.

  A strange tingling ran down the back of her neck. Having allowed her thoughts to drag her awareness inward, it took a moment to refocus her eyes. As she found herself meeting Gabriel’s dark-eyed stare, the tingle turned to a fierce rush of heat that was part embarrassment, part something else.

  Yet, she couldn’t look away.

  The good-natured ribbing continued, but the voices had faded to the background.

  She was pulled in by the Gabriel’s quiet regard—his intense, hooded focus. The depth of his gaze was infinite. As was the sense that he was seeing further into her than anyone else ever had. It was both frightening and exhilarating to be seen in such a way.

  Whatever he saw when he looked at her like that, he gave nothing away in his expression or manner.

  Eve did not want to analyze the subtle sense of loss she experienced as he shifted his gaze back to the room as a whole. Trying to figure out exactly what the outlaw made her feel was not something she was prepared to delve into.

  “Hey, I was thinking…” Eve turned to see Johnny standing beside her chair, an odd, almost sheepish look in his warm, brown eyes. “There’s a river that runs through the valley, and not too far away is a spot where it’s wide enough and deep enough to swim in. It’s a little cold, but it’s good for bathing. You want someone to take you?”

  Eve tensed at the idea of stripping down to take a bath outdoors, surrounded by outlaws.

  Johnny tipped his head and frowned. “No one’ll bother you. You can have your privacy, but someone should be close enough to hear you shout if you get in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Eve asked.

  The outlaw shrugged.

  Eve considered the offer. She hadn’t bathed in several days, and the thought of getting clean was unbelievably tempting, but she didn’t think she had the courage to do so out in the open where wild animals might pose a threat with only an outlaw nearby to keep her safe. “I don’t know…” she began hesitantly.

  “She can use the cabin,” Gabriel stated, entering the conversation without even glancing their way.

  Johnny slapped his thigh. “Dang, that’s right. I forgot about the cabin.” He flashed Eve a wide grin. “It’s got a nice, big copper tub and anything else you’d need for a proper bath. And you can lock the door. Gabe here can escort you.”

  Eve looked back and forth between Johnny and Gabriel.

  Johnny offered a wide grin of encouragement, while Gabriel’s dark eyes narrowed on the younger outlaw. Johnny seemed oblivious to the hard resistance in Gabriel’s gaze. That, or he was choosing to ignore it.

  But Eve saw it.

  Gabriel didn’t want to take her anywhere.

  After a beat of silence, he looked down at her. “You want a bath?”

  Eve’s pride flared in response to his reluctance. She replied truthfully and not without a hint of challenge in her tone. “I do.”

  With a short nod, he pushed off from the wall and reached the front door in two long strides. Eve rose swiftly to her feet, anxious to follow. A real bath in a cabin with a locked door suddenly sounded like the greatest luxury she could imagine.

  He held the door for her to pass through.

  For the sake of her pride as much as her equilibrium, she kept her gaze forward as she walked past him, catching a brief whiff of his familiar scent before stepping outside.

  A long, covered porch ran nearly the full length of the front of the bunkhouse, shading them from the sun that had risen above the mountaintops to bathe the valley in light.

  Eve took a deep breath of the spring air. It felt so much crisper, cleaner here. She’d noticed that on the long ride into the mountains. The thinning air had made the way difficult since she was unaccustomed to it, but now, as she experienced the ease with which she filled her lungs, Eve appreciated the sense of lightness it gave her.

  “This way.” Gabriel stepped past her and started down the porch steps to the grass.

  Eve followed as he led the way across the valley toward the tree line. Looking around his wide-shouldered form, all she saw were dark pines climbing up the side of the mountain where the forest held shadows and quiet, unseen movement. Soon they reached a path that had been worn into the earth from the frequent passage of footsteps.

  Stepping out of the summer sunshine and into the cool shadows of the pines, where the sun reached the ground in small sprinkling patches of light, required a swift adjustment of the senses. The air chilled against her skin. The smell of the earth was richer, almost heady. Sounds of wind through the treetops and the subtle rustling of small creatures surrounded them as they continued deeper into the forest.

  As she followed a step or two behind Gabriel on the narrow footpath, Eve couldn’t help but acknowledge how he seemed so much a part of this environment. While she felt out of place and foreign.

  As she glanced around, she thought she might learn to enjoy the deep quiet of such a place. It was all so very different from the brightly lit ballrooms and drawing rooms she’d left behind, but it held a unique kind of peace.

  Just as she began to wonder how far they’d have to go, she saw a little cabin up ahead. It was made of logs, like the larger house in the valley below, and had a similar covered porch. But it was significantly smaller.

  Gabriel stepped onto the porch and reached for the front door. It opened with a creak of u
nused hinges. He stepped to the side and looked back at Eve. “I’ll have to get a fire going and haul up some water, but you can go in and look around.”

  Eve stepped forward cautiously. “Does anyone live here?”

  “Not anymore.”

  She continued through the door into a room not unlike the great room in the bunkhouse, if only much smaller. The living space and kitchen were open to each other with the counter and stove off to the right and a fireplace to the left. In between, there was room for a small kitchen table and a sofa facing the fireplace with what appeared to be two rooms extending off the main one, most likely bedrooms.

  For not being lived in, the cabin had a distinctly homey feel. Rugs of various shapes and sizes and colors covered the wooden floor. A lap blanket was thrown over the back of the sofa, and books were stacked up on the floor in front of a comfortable-looking armchair.

  Gabriel strode past her to the fireplace where he crouched and started adding kindling from a wooden box beside the woodpile stacked neatly to one side.

  Eve took advantage of his turned back to observe him freely. She wasn’t sure why his movements fascinated her so. They were like his silence and his steady, unreadable gaze. He was so unlike anyone she’d ever known. There was so much grace and economy in his movements. No effort was ever wasted. He did nothing without direct purpose. But there was nothing stiff or calculated about it. His body possessed a fluidity that was rather beautiful considering the obvious strength and bulk behind it.

  Eve had been raised—trained, actually—to be deliberate and reserved in her behaviors. It was the Boston Brahmin way, and Eve’s mother had wanted nothing more than to see her daughter married into that society of the city’s most elite citizens. With a constant focus on her posture, the proper tilt of her head and position of her hands, and the right-size step, Eve always felt so forced and unnatural in her movements. So…fettered.

  Matthew had expected supreme propriety at all times—out in society as well as in the privacy of their home. Eve was forever conscientious about how she dressed and moved and spoke. Her gowns had to be perfectly fitted, her hair had to be styled in the latest fashion, her manners had better be flawless. Even the slightest misstep could be cause for repercussions.