The Outlaw's Heart

by Amy Sandas

  “Will you lie beside me?” she asked, trembling deep in her center.

  His chest expanded with a heavy breath that expelled in a rush. Then he lowered his chin and took long strides around the fire. Eve brought her legs up onto the bed and scooted back toward the shadows. Without a word, he sat on the edge, his broad back blocking much of the firelight before he turned and stretched out on his back. Not so close that he touched her, but close enough that she felt his warmth.

  The trembling inside her increased to a steady hum, a heightened vibration of awareness that should have made her tense and unable to relax. Instead, it made her feel safe in a way she had started to accept was directly linked to this man. She lay on her side and closed her eyes, soaking up his nearness, trying not to imagine how it would feel if he eased the hard, solid length of his body into contact with hers.

  She hadn’t wanted the touch of another person for so long. It felt strange and confusing to want something that still terrified her. But she allowed it. She sank into that wanting, letting it flow through her, letting it change her in tiny ways. She was able to do it because she trusted implicitly in the fact that he would never hurt her.

  And he wouldn’t touch her unless she asked him to.

  Twenty-Seven

  The Eastern woman had completely disappeared.

  Whoever had taken her off that train didn’t want to be found.

  Frustration over his inability to track any farther than the base of the Absaroka Range kept him there longer than he should have been. By the time he returned to town and received the telegrams that were waiting there for him, several days had been lost in futility.

  At least one of the telegrams had some news.

  It wasn’t anything to help him in finding the woman’s current location, but it was something he could work with.

  The other telegram had him gritting his teeth. He should have known he wouldn’t be allowed to manage this task on his own. He’d have to ride hard to make it to Chester Springs in the next couple of days if he hoped to meet up with his partner before she decided to go and do something reckless.

  Twenty-Eight

  Eve moaned softly in resistance as she felt the pull of consciousness tugging at her slowly stirring awareness. Cool air touched her cheeks, but the rest of her was warm and cozy. She didn’t want to face the cold just yet. Not when her sleep had been so deep and dreamless.

  In an effort to hold the morning at bay, she snuggled into the warmth, sighing as strong arms tightened around her and a slow exhale bathed her temple.

  Gabriel’s breath.

  Gabriel’s arms.

  And his heartbeat, thudding against her chest. His thighs and belly pressing against hers. His shoulders blocking the chill in the air. His steady gaze meeting hers when she opened her eyes.

  Still sleepy and disoriented, she easily became trapped by those eyes. Seeing in them a place of comfort, security, and something more.

  The something more should have made her uneasy. Instead, it matched the feelings coursing through her. Feelings that didn’t have a chance to be masked by a fear that had been planted by another man far away. Feelings that made her breathless and…wanting.

  She should pull away. But she didn’t want to. It felt right to be there—in his arms, chest to chest, face to face, one of her hands tucked between them, the other resting on his side, feeling the rise and fall of his steady breath.

  “Who hurt you?” he asked in a tone cloaked in dark emotions and quiet danger.

  She hated the old feelings that rose up at the thought of Matthew. “My husband,” she replied on an exhale and was surprised at the ease of the admission.

  Gabriel’s expression did not change, but there was a shift in his eyes, a subtle darkening. A silent acknowledgment.

  They said nothing for another long moment. Neither of them moved.

  “Would he come after you?”

  “I did my best to leave nothing for him to follow,” she replied softly, lowering her gaze. “But he is resourceful and…likely did not take well to my disappearance. He… There is a chance.”

  “He won’t hurt you again,” Gabriel said, the words sounding like a vow.

  She returned his confident stare. “No. He won’t.”

  Eve allowed herself to feel the solid muscle of Gabriel’s upper arm beneath her head and his large hand cupping her shoulder, keeping her close. She noted the weight of his other arm around her waist and how it made her feel. She looked deep into his eyes, letting him see the uncertainty and the need.

  He remained unflinching, strong, accepting.

  In a low murmur, she asked, “Have you always been known as Gabriel?”

  There was a slight pause. “No.”

  “What did your family call you?”

  There was a flicker deep in his eyes. “Kuckunniwi,” he replied in a gravelly whisper. “Little Wolf.”

  She wished she could sweep away the loss in his tone, but it was a part of him, just as her past was part of her.

  “Little Wolf,” she murmured, then smiled. “Not so little anymore.”

  His brows furrowed over his gaze. “This is the first time I have seen you smile.”

  The smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” His confusion was clear in the deepening frown. “You have a right to your sorrow. And your smiles.”

  She lowered her gaze, settling her attention on the full curve of his mouth.

  His arms loosened from around her, and though she had no wish to, she moved away from him as he rolled to his feet. “Morning has come,” he said.

  Kneeling in front of the fire, he stirred the dying coals and blew life back into the last flickering flames. Then he sat back on his heels and tipped his face upward as he combed his fingers back through his hair. After he nimbly plaited the length into a single braid down his back, he gave Eve a sideways glance.

  She didn’t realize she had been openly staring until he caught her.

  For a second it looked like he might tease her for it, but then he said, “Would you ride with me today?”

  Eve sat up, her stomach tightening with apprehension. “Beyond the valley?”

  “I’ll assure your safety.”

  His tone dropped with the assurance, and Eve felt the sentiment in a way that went beyond what he’d likely intended. If anyone in the world could keep her safe, it would be him. Though he had never given any indication of violence or aggression, she knew intuitively that he would not back away from danger, whether it be in the form of a wild animal or humanity in its evilest form.

  Was that why she trusted him? Because she knew he could protect her?

  It felt like more than that. Her trust went beyond the knowing that he wouldn’t hurt her, beyond his obvious physical capabilities—far deeper than the darkness of his gaze.

  It had grown slowly but now felt like an indelible part of her. She trusted him with everything she was.

  It was a heady realization.

  And the idea of seeing more of the mountainous terrain filled her with excitement. She hadn’t realized she’d gotten so tired of the bunkhouse until she had the opportunity to leave it. “Yes. I would enjoy that.”

  Gabriel nodded. “Can you start coffee while I check on Twig?”

  Eve’s doubt over being able to make coffee didn’t have time to solidify. “Twig?”

  “My mustang,” Gabriel explained with a beautiful curving of his lips. “He was all skin and bones as a foal. The name suited him then.”

  Eve thought of the giant beast outside and smiled. “I like it.”

  After he left, she sat for a moment with the metal coffeepot in her hands—the completely empty pot—biting her lip as she tried to recall the steps she’d watched him perform on more than one occasion.

  Water. She needed water. Looking around, she d
id not spot even a glimmer of the stuff.

  The river. She brightened with inspiration as she stepped from the cabin and strolled down to the river with the coffeepot in hand. She could hear Gabriel speaking to his horse in low, murmured tones, but she refused to glance his way.

  He had entrusted her with this small, inconsequential task. She could figure it out.

  After filling the pot about halfway, she returned to the cabin, taking a moment to breathe deeply of the faint herbal smell that filled the space. Then she went about searching for the canister of ground coffee beans Gabriel had carried with him on their ascent into the mountains. She found a variety of similar containers and started opening them one by one until on her fourth try, she found what she was looking for.

  Now…how much?

  The coffee Gabriel made was always rich and dark, so she added a couple of big scoops to the water and set it over the coals as she seen him do many times. Then she sat on the floor and waited for it to heat up.

  After a while, she checked the coffee. It was quite hot, but the liquid looked far too light. It was more golden than dark brown. So, she added three more scoops of the coffee grounds and set it back on the coals. Hoping it would only need a bit longer to brew, she decided to step outside and let Gabriel know the coffee would be ready soon.

  As she made her way around the outside of the cabin to where he was brushing down the large gray mustang, Twig lifted his head and gave a big snort as he peered in Eve’s direction.

  “He’s missed you,” Gabriel said.

  Eve cast him a dubious look, thinking he might be teasing her, but his expression was earnest. She approached slowly until she stood at Gabriel’s side, with the great beast’s head looming over her.

  Twig made another heavy sound, expelling breath swiftly through his nostrils, before he lowered his head over Eve’s shoulder. She gave a soft laugh and ran her hands along his strong neck as she murmured, “I’ve missed you too.”

  After a moment, the horse lifted his head again. As Eve stepped back, she caught Gabriel’s eye and shivered at the depth of emotion she saw there. But then he made a short sound and glanced toward the cabin. “Is the coffee ready?”

  “I believe so, yes. At least, I think it should be.”

  His lips twitched. “Let’s see.”

  He led Twig around to the front of the cabin and then followed Eve inside.

  She sat on the bed and waited while he filled both cups. From what she could see, the brew was nice and steamy and certainly looked darker than it had earlier. Gabriel sat across from her on the hearth and lifted his mug for a sip.

  Eve did the same.

  Their gazes locked at the same time—Eve’s wide with shock, Gabriel’s sparkling with amusement.

  Not knowing what else to do, she spit what was in her mouth back into her cup. “That is dreadful.”

  Gabriel audibly swallowed what was in his mouth, then took another sip as Eve stared in disbelief.

  “It’s not bad,” he said evenly, “if you wish to poison someone.”

  Eve choked on a short laugh and shook her head. “Please, dump it out. It’s awful.”

  “For a first attempt, it is…” He paused to find the right word.

  “Disgusting? Disgraceful? Alarming?” Eve offered.

  He smiled. “Admirable.”

  She murmured a denial and reached forward to take the offensive brew out of his hand. “You are too good to me.”

  “No.”

  The tension in his voice stopped her in midmovement, and his dark, serious eyes locked on hers, effectively holding her in place. “You must stop seeing yourself as he saw you. You are worthy of kindness and respect and deserve every drop of happiness the world can offer. It is time you claim that truth as your own.”

  A tumult of sensations tripped over themselves inside her. His nearness and the intensity of his gaze made her feel weak and shaky, but the strength in his words and the force of his conviction stirred a flame of confidence in the depths of her soul.

  “I’m trying,” she whispered.

  After a moment, he gave a short nod.

  Then he rose to his feet and took her mug. Setting the offending brews aside, he removed the pot from the coals and spread out the remaining embers. Then he poured what was left of the coffee on top, sending a pungent plume of smoke up the chimney.

  “The smell should keep wild animals away for a month or two,” he said, before he gave her a sideways look, followed by a brief heart-stopping grin.

  Her entire body warmed in response to his teasing, and for the first time in a very long while, the happiness he’d spoken of seemed frighteningly within reach.

  Twenty-Nine

  Gabriel and Eve spent much of the day riding along scenic passes and dramatic overlooks. They kept to well-worn trails, which should have made it a calm and relaxing trek, if not for the fact that Eve remained in an acute and near-constant state of anticipation.

  Sharing a horse with him was so very different this time around.

  She didn’t try so hard to limit the contact of her body with his. She didn’t force herself to sit so stiff and straight between his spread thighs, allowing her back to curve against his sturdy chest. She didn’t flinch when his arm occasionally brushed hers or when his breath stirred the hair at her temple as he spoke of various animals or scenic wonders they saw along the way.

  It was…nice.

  More than nice.

  And it was a little bit terrifying.

  Because while her body managed to soften and accept his nearness, her insides had gone into a secret little riot the moment he leapt up behind her on the saddleless horse. A riot that continued to clamor and expand inside her until she breathlessly anticipated every extra moment of contact.

  She knew he didn’t intend to stir such contradiction inside her; knew that he likely would have regretted any discomfort he inadvertently caused. But that was exactly what she wondered at most—she liked the discomfort. She reveled in it.

  It was real. It made her feel alive and hopeful as they made their way through the gorgeous and rugged mountain passes.

  But eventually they had to turn back. After entering the valley through the steep and narrow ravine, he turned his horse away from the bunkhouse, continuing along the river toward his cabin.

  Crossing the river on horseback, he dismounted on the other side but didn’t reach up to help her down. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Eve looked down at him in question. “We aren’t staying?”

  “Just wait here.”

  She watched as he disappeared into the cabin and came back out a moment later, carrying what appeared to be a handmade fishing pole.

  The hint of a smile pulled at his lips when he handed her the pole so he could leap onto the horse behind her. “I’m hungry,” he said in a low voice that warmed the back of her neck. Earlier in the day, they’d snacked on some fresh bread he had packed before leaving that morning—a gift he’d received in trade for some of the fresh meat he’d given away on his hunting trek. And they’d enjoyed some berries they’d come upon while riding, but other than that, neither of them had eaten much and it was well past midday.

  Not far beyond the cabin, the river began to widen and deepen. Soon after, they reached a curve where the water slowed and lapped gently at its banks. Eve realized this was likely the spot Johnny had mentioned that they used for swimming and bathing.

  Eve could see the appeal. The water was clear and refreshing. Sheltering trees and thick bushes extended along both sides of the river, providing privacy from anyone riding past.

  Twig was left to graze at his leisure on the lush grasses, while Gabriel and Eve found a spot along the shore where he promised they’d have excellent luck. Though Gabriel offered to let her give fishing a try, she preferred watching his expert skill, and it wasn’t l
ong before he pulled in two good-sized fish.

  A short time later, they returned to his cabin. The fish were cleaned and set to fry in a pan over the fire as Gabriel talked Eve through the steps of making a pot of coffee.

  Stopping in the midst of his instruction, Gabriel lifted his head as though listening.

  Eve looked up and waited. Then she heard it as well. Someone was yelling.

  He rose smoothly and quickly to his feet, then crossed to open the door while Eve kept to the shadows a few steps behind him, fear running swift through her veins.

  Past Gabriel’s shoulder, she saw Johnny riding across the river on his black gelding. He didn’t slow his approach until he was right in front of the cabin and didn’t even bother to dismount as he spoke in a voice that was slightly out of breath. “Gabe, thank God you’re here.”

  “What is it?” Gabriel asked. A calm but alert readiness emanated from him.

  “No one’s seen Eve all day. I’ve been all over looking for her. She went for a walk late yesterday, and we don’t know if she ever came back.”

  Gabriel hesitated only a moment—probably not long enough for Johnny to notice, but Eve saw it. She tensed as he stepped to the side so Johnny could see past him.

  Johnny’s eyes grew round with shock as he glanced back and forth from Eve to Gabriel, then back again. Finally, settling his focus on Eve, he asked, “Are you okay? We were worried.”

  Gabriel didn’t turn to look at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she replied, taking a step forward. “I’m fine.”

  Johnny studied her for a moment, then nodded. “All right then. I’ll let the others know you’re okay and that you’re here with Gabe.” There was a hint of question in his words.

  Eve nodded. “Thank you.”

  Johnny gave a nod, then directed his next words to Gabriel. “Luke’s heading north in two days. He needs you to come by the bunkhouse before he leaves.”

  Gabriel acknowledged the order with a dip of his chin.

  With another glance at Eve, Johnny turned his horse and rode back across the river.