by Amy Sandas
“It took courage to come west on your own.”
She shook her head. “Not courage. Desperation.”
The uncertainty in her voice struck him with a forceful blow. How could she not see her own strength? It astounded him. Her bravery and fierce determination were evident in her watchful gaze and steady refusal to return to a life that mistreated her. He wished she could see herself as he saw her.
“Our lives do not always travel the path we imagined,” he said. “The results of our choices cannot be foreseen. All you can do is choose what steps you take next.”
She tilted her head as she looked up at him. “Do you think I should stay here?”
Gabriel shrugged. The gesture was casual while he felt anything but. “It’s not my choice to make.”
* * *
Eve was disappointed by his answer, but she should have expected it. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to know what he thought. He’d brought her here, but only as a duty to his gang. Not because he had any personal investment in her well-being.
She took a breath and looked back over her shoulder toward the bunkhouse and the barn. The idea of staying in this valley, even for a short while, filled her with hope and dread. She did not want to hide for the rest of her life.
Could she be comfortable in a valley full of outlaws?
Could she risk leaving?
She returned her gaze to Gabriel’s patient stare. “You trust Luke a great deal,” she noted quietly.
“There are few people I trust,” he replied. “Luke is one.”
She had a swift and sudden desire to be one of the few herself. How would it feel for a man like this—a man who needed no one, who asked for nothing from the world—to believe in her?
She noted the seriousness of his features. He was always so stoic and emotionless. Detached. Yet he possessed an undeniable strength—a calm, steady certainty—in everything he did. He did not need to rely on anyone else.
She dreamed of being so self-sufficient.
“You could trust him,” he suggested.
She shook her head slowly.
“You could trust me.” He spoke in a lowered tone, as though they shared a private conversation, even though there was no one else around to hear them.
Looking into his eyes, his words hovering between them, Eve felt a blast of sensation travel through her body. It was a mix of heat and fear and something else unnameable. A force deep within her wanted to step into him, to step into his strength and warmth and confidence. Would he keep her safe from all she’d left behind? From all she still faced in her uncertain future?
“I wish I could,” she whispered, the confession slipping free before she could stop it, before she could keep the longing from filtering into the words.
“You are stronger than you know.”
Eve wanted to believe him. For a second, his dark gaze and firm words almost convinced her they were truth. But she was far too aware of the trembling she felt inside. The uncertainty and the fear she was getting too weary to hide. How could he see strength in her when she felt as if she could fall apart at any moment?
A frown pulled at his black brows, as though he saw something unusual in her eyes. His wide, full lips parted to say something, and he lifted a hand toward her. But she would not know what he intended to say, because before she could even assess his intention, she flinched in anticipation of his touch.
It was a subtle movement, no more than a flicker of her gaze and a tip of her chin, triggered by an instinct to protect herself at a moment when she felt nearly overwhelmed by her vulnerability.
However subtle her reaction might have been, Gabriel saw it.
He stiffened and lowered his hand back to his side. “You have no need to fear me,” he said firmly, though his voice remained in that low tone.
She did not need to respond. She could have let the declaration settle between them, but something in her would not allow it. “I don’t know what it is you make me feel, Gabriel. Perhaps it’s fear, though it doesn’t feel like any fear I’ve known before.”
“I would not hurt you.”
“I know.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes searching and silent. “I won’t try to touch you again.”
Regret twisted through her belly. She wanted to tell him not to make such a promise. For a sudden desperate moment, she wanted nothing more than to know how it would feel for his fingers to drift over her skin in a touch that was as intimate and quiet as his voice. But how could she explain that it wasn’t his touch she feared so much as her own reaction to it? Her near-craving for it.
As he stared hard into her eyes, she nearly glanced away, dreading what he’d see, desperate to keep her secrets. But she didn’t want to hide the truth from him. Something inside her wished he could see…everything.
For a moment, it seemed that maybe he did.
But then his features tensed, and he lifted his gaze to peer over her head toward the mountains that rose in the near-distance. “We should head back.”
“Not yet.” Eve spoke without thinking. She wasn’t ready to return to the bunkhouse and the watchful, curious gazes of the other outlaws. She wasn’t ready to decide if she should stay in the valley or take her chances that Matthew had discovered her abduction from the train. For a little longer, she needed to breathe free.
“You didn’t stay in the bunkhouse last night,” she said, latching onto the first excuse that came to mind that would extend their outing.
He looked down at her with a question in his eyes.
She almost blushed as she realized that her words made it sound as though she missed his presence. “Do you have a cabin like the one we just left?”
His brows lowered. “Somewhat.”
Eve glanced back at the bunkhouse then returned her gaze to Gabriel’s. “Will you show me?”
At first, she felt certain he would refuse. The resistance in his stance and in his dark eyes was plain to see. But then something changed. Resistance slid into acceptance and then…anticipation. Eve felt the change more than she saw it. A gentle wave of excitement flowed through her when he gave a short nod and said, “This way.”
Twenty-Three
After only a few minutes, they came up alongside a winding river with a narrow, rocky shore. They followed it upstream, leaving the barn and bunkhouse and the little forest cabin behind them. The farther they went, the more Eve found herself relaxing. The sun was warm, the air was fresh, the river flowed in a gentle rhythm, and the man beside her made no demands on her attention—though he had it anyway.
They soon reached a spot where the river curved around a cluster of trees that had spread down from the mountainside into the valley. Past the trees, the landscape widened to reveal an open meadow of green grass dotted with wildflowers, and in the center of the field stood a little cabin that was even smaller than the one where Eve had bathed. The dwelling sat gently on the earth with wildflowers growing around its base and no porch or stairs leading to the front door.
Eve noted a permanent campfire off to one side, and behind that stood a tall, standing frame structured from raw wooden poles that she imagined might be used for dressing large game. Gabriel’s riding blanket had been tossed over the pole that spanned the top of the frame and danced playfully in the wind.
They continued along the edge of the riverbank, and Eve noticed that although the little cabin was on the opposite side of the river, there was no bridge in sight. She was about to ask Gabriel how they would get across when they reached a spot where the water ran swift and shallow over the riverbed, winding between large boulders that rose above the water and spanning the distance to the opposite bank.
Gabriel stepped onto the first big rock and turned to offer a hand.
His expression was carefully controlled—a direct contradiction to the anticipation she felt in the air. S
he didn’t believe the exhilarating sense of expectation belonged only to her.
With a shallow breath, she placed her hand in his and executed a short leap to join him. The surface of the rock was uneven and just barely big enough to fit them both. Her balance wavered a bit at first, but his grip was sure. One by one they crossed the creek. Gabriel first, creating a solid foundation for Eve to leap to. It reminded her of the days before she was considered too old for games, and she and her brother used to play tag and leapfrog and run about the lawns of their estate. That had been so long ago, she’d forgotten what it felt like.
Something of her sense of joy must have shown in her face, because Gabriel’s hand tightened around hers, and she looked up at him to see a fleeting smile cross his lips. It was there and gone in an instant, but Eve felt its effect in the sudden rushing of her blood and the swift beat of her heart.
For a moment, she couldn’t look away from his wide mouth as she silently, fervently wished for another smile.
She slid her gaze over his broad, handsome features to look into his eyes.
She didn’t know what she expected to find there, since he was so adept at shielding his thoughts. She certainly couldn’t have anticipated the hunger. The soul-deep longing.
And then it was gone. As though it had never been.
Eve was left breathless as his expression shuttered and his gaze became flat and silent.
He released her hand and gestured with a lift of his chin up the bank toward the cabin. Eve ignored her disappointment at the swift return of his careful control and turned to start up the gentle slope to where the land leveled and the grass grew soft and thick. She had expected to find some sort of path, but the grass and flowers looked almost completely undisturbed, as though no one had crossed the field in a long time.
The lack of a well-worn path struck her delicately.
For Gabriel’s passage to and from his home to leave no mark had to have taken conscious effort. The idea that he would choose to disturb as little of his environment as possible was not surprising. But it made her wonder if he saw this place as his home or a temporary camp like the ones they’d made through the mountains.
The question lingered in her mind as she drew nearer to the cabin.
Gabriel had remained a couple of paces behind her after they left the bank of the river, but as they approached the dwelling, he came up beside her.
She looked at him, wondering if he was aware of the excitement rising quietly within her.
But he kept his expression stern and his gaze forward, almost as though he didn’t want to see what she might be thinking. Reaching for the door, he drew it open, then stood to the side so she could enter.
Eve kept her gaze lowered. Her fingers and toes tingled with anticipation as she crossed the threshold.
She’d expected it to be dark inside, but filtered sunlight reached in through the windows, casting the interior in a dreamy sort of half-light that smelled faintly of dried herbs and rich earth.
The floor of the single room was covered by woolen rugs—brightly colored and tightly woven—and Eve would guess that beneath them lay bare earth. A fireplace framed in fieldstone took up the wall to her left and various furs were spread carelessly on the floor before it. To the right, directly across from the fireplace was a wide dais. It was built low to the ground and was covered in colorful blankets and more soft furs. His bed.
A flush of warmth had Eve shifting her gaze to note the various cooking utensils and other curious tools that were neatly hung from hooks around the fireplace. The wall directly in front of her contained a large window that provided a view of the meadow where his horse grazed and beyond to the pines shading the rocky mountainside. A large wooden chest and several baskets that he appeared to use for storage were kept along the wall away from the fire.
The dwelling was unlike anything she’d ever seen.
Simple, serene, safe.
Those were the words that came to mind as she wandered around in Gabriel’s private space.
She didn’t realize she had wandered so far inside until she turned to see him still standing beside the open doorway with his feet braced wide and his arms crossed over his chest. He looked tense and wary.
Eve cast another glance around her. “It is wonderful,” she said, her voice breathy and low. “Did you build it yourself?”
He nodded.
Feeling inordinately brave in the tranquil setting, Eve asked the question burning in her mind. “Why build it so far from the others? Why not stay in the bunkhouse?”
At first it seemed like he wouldn’t answer. He remained tall and stoic as he stared back at her through the hazy sunlight. Then he uncrossed his arms. As he did so, he paused briefly, exposing his palms as though waiting to hold something before lowering his hands to his sides.
“It is best for me to keep apart from others.”
The words—low and heavy—pressed against Eve’s heart. “Why?” she asked.
He made a sound in his throat that suggested he didn’t want to answer. Disappointment flooded her chest. She had no idea why she wanted so badly to understand this man, but there was no denying it was true.
Then, in a flat tone that revealed no emotion, he replied, “There’s a risk in getting close.”
Eve searched his dark gaze, feeling rather than seeing what went unsaid. Awareness and longing and loss swept through her. There was much to be inferred by his words, but she couldn’t help but wish he would reveal more to her. Openly and freely. What would it be like to have this man look into her eyes and offer the true depths of himself?
Glorious. Humbling.
Her throat tightened as she imagined how it might feel to have Gabriel’s trust and…devotion.
The thought was swiftly followed by the sobering truth—in order to earn that much from him, she would have to offer the same.
She lowered her gaze as reality cleared away the clutch of yearning that had claimed her. She was not free to wonder such things…and certainly had no right to long for them.
“We should return.”
Eve nodded, but her steps were reluctant as she crossed back to Gabriel’s side. Before she stepped out into the full sunlight, she paused and looked up at him.
He turned his head to meet her gaze, though he kept the rest of himself angled away.
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
He gave a short nod of acknowledgment, which should have been enough for Eve, but something inside her kept her from moving.
As they stood there, shoulder to shoulder, she felt a draw so fierce and strong it nearly startled her. She experienced a sudden urge to turn toward him, reach for him, feel his hands grasp her hips as she rested her palm against his chest.
It left her trembling with an emotional hunger unlike anything she’d ever felt before. And as she looked into Gabriel’s dark gaze, she saw the same deep craving reflected there.
Her lips parted on a swift inhale. Her belly fluttered with wild sensations. Heat flowed through her blood. Everything inside her wanted to reach for him, touch him, embrace him. The shock of physical desire startled her from the strange reverie.
With a harsh exhale, she ducked her head and stepped out into the sunlight, effectively breaking whatever spell she’d fallen under.
The walk back along the river to the bunkhouse was a silent one. Both of them, it seemed, were caught up in their own thoughts.
But Eve was not so distracted that she didn’t notice the moment Gabriel’s focus became suddenly intent as he stared straight forward. She followed his gaze to the far end of the valley where three riders had emerged from a narrow, rocky pass and were heading toward the main house.
Her body froze with a wave of fear.
Gabriel looked down at her as he noted calmly, “They are friends.”
The chill slid from her blood, replac
ed by a flush of embarrassment that he could so easily detect her weakness.
Would there ever come a day when she didn’t expect Matthew to appear from nowhere to drag her back to the hell she’d escaped?
“You’re safe here.”
The assurance in his tone and the flicker of concern in his gaze only increased her discomfort. “You must think me ridiculous,” she muttered.
His brows furrowed subtly as he dipped his chin to an intimate angle. “There are many things I think of you, Eve. Ridiculous is not one.”
The words—spoken in his smooth, dark voice—sent another flush of heat through her body, but this one had nothing to do with embarrassment. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what he did think of her.
She held the question behind her teeth.
They continued toward the bunkhouse, entering through the back door after coming around the barn and passing Ramsey on the way. The young man was grumbling under his breath as he led the newcomers’ horses into the barn.
Stepping into the bunkhouse, Eve immediately heard a cacophony of voices talking and laughing at once. The noise made her anxious.
Even the crowded ballrooms back home did not boast such boisterous activity. She had to remind herself that these men were not cut from the same cloth as anyone with whom she had previously associated. In Boston, she knew all the rules and how to follow them to perfection.
She did not know how to be amongst these rough men who made their lives outside the laws of society. Traveling with Gabriel had been different. She hadn’t felt any expectations on her behavior. But this morning, around Luke and Johnny, she’d felt like an oddity—as though she was on display. She could only imagine that what faced her in the room beyond would be so much worse.
Gabriel came up behind her but could not pass her in the narrow hall. The strength of his presence formed a protective wall at her back as he waited, ever patient.
She turned toward him, tempted to reveal her cowardice and suggest they go back outside for just a little longer, but he was closer than she’d expected, and the words died in her throat.