The Outlaws: Rafe Page 18

Each night Rafe selected secluded spots for them to camp. Though he kept a sharp eye out for Indians, Rafe saw nothing to indicate their presence in the area through which they traveled. Whenever they were fortunate enough to camp beside water, they soaked away trail dust and grime. On most nights they shared a bedroll. If they were too tired to make love, Rafe just held Angela close, wondering how long fate would give them before snatching away his happiness.

  Rafe couldn't begin to describe the kind of contentment he'd found with Angel. Nothing about their meeting had been what one would call conventional. She had saved his skin and ended up married to him, something neither of them had really wanted. He felt bound to her by an emotional bond that cut deep into his soul.

  One night they camped on the banks of the Arkansas River, giving Ordway a wide birth. Rafe said they might rest the next day so Angela took advantage of the leisure time to wash their dirty clothes and string them over bushes to dry. Then she stripped, washed the clothing she was wearing, and immersed herself in the cool water.

  Rafe joined her a short time later, having caught and spitted a pair of rabbits for their supper. He shed his clothes and waded in, splashing water over his wide shoulders as he made his way unerringly to Angel's side.

  "There will be more than beans and bacon tonight for supper," Rafe said, smiling. "I set two rabbits beside the fire to cook."

  "My mouth is watering already," Angela returned.

  Her mouth was watering but it was due more to watching Rafe strip than from want of food. Never would she tire of looking at him. She'd seen a stature once in a museum in Wichita that didn't hold a candle to Rafe's magnificent form. There wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. The best part was that no fig leaf concealed that male part of him more powerfully arousing than a cold marble statue could ever be.

  "What are you thinking?" Rafe asked. "You're so quiet. Not still conjuring up ways to convince me to return you to the Golden Angel, are you?"

  "I suppose we've passed the point of no return now," Angela said. "I've resigned myself to seeing this through, whatever it is you're trying to prove. I just hope you don't regret it."

  Rafe frowned. "Regret what? Taking you with me or trying to prove my innocence."

  "Both," Angela said. "I'm afraid you've set yourself an impossible task. You should have disappeared while you had the chance. Gone west to California, maybe, or north to Montana. Anywhere the law couldn't touch you."

  He shook his head. "I need to prove something to you."

  "But at what cost? Honestly, Rafe, sometimes you can be so stubborn it boggles my mind."

  She dipped her head beneath the water and began working soap into her long tresses.

  "Let me do that," Rafe said, shoving her hands aside.

  A moan slipped past Angela's lips when Rafe, having finished washing and rinsing her hair, turned his attention to her body. He soaped her upper torso first, then dipped down below the water to run the soap over her limbs and private parts. When she felt his hands sliding up the inside of her leg, she moved restlessly.

  "Rafe! Behave yourself."

  He gave her a wicked grin, not in the least apologetic. "How can I behave with an alluring temptress seducing me?"

  "You're insatiable. For your information, I'm not trying to seduce you. Turn around so I can wash your back."

  Rafe handed her the soap and dutifully turned around. After she scrubbed his back she moved around to his front and soaped his chest. Her hands wanted to stray downward but she knew where that would lead so she handed him the soap and told him to finish bathing himself. He looked so disappointed she wanted to laugh.

  "Don't leave yet," Rafe said when she started to wade back to shore.

  "Shouldn't the rabbits be turned? They might burn."

  His voice was rough with need, his silver eyes glazed. "The hell with the rabbits, "I'm the one burning."

  She gave him an exasperated look. "Rafe, this isn't the right time to..."

  "I disagree, Angel. This is exactly the right time. It hasn't been easy just holding you while you slept, but I knew you were exhausted. I realize this constant riding hasn't been easy on you, that's why I decided we should rest a day before going on. After I make love to you tonight, you can sleep the entire day through tomorrow."

  She threw him a saucy glance over her shoulder and continued toward shore. He shook himself, sending great droplets of water in all directions, then he took off after her. Soon it became a lighthearted romp, something badly needed by both of them to relieve the tension they'd been under since leaving the Golden Angel. He caught her by the ankle before she could scramble up the riverbank and pulled her back into the water. She went under, and came up sputtering when he lifted her from the water by the shoulders.

  "Rafe Gentry, are you trying to drown me?"

  "Drowning you isn't what I have in mind, sweetheart,"

  As if to prove where his mind dwelt, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to their bedroll. Then he knelt beside her, lowered his head and licked the droplets of water that had gathered between her breasts. When the rough pad of his tongue lapped at her erect nipples, she moaned and clasped his head between her palms, holding it in place against her swollen breasts.

  "Rafe! This is madness," she gasped, arching into his mouth. "Every time we make love increases our chances of making a baby."

  He lifted his head and stared at her. "Would that be so bad? You're my wife."

  "This isn't a good time. Children need a full time father."

  Rafe's eyes narrowed as he reared back on his haunches. "You could already be carrying my child."

  "Don't say that!"

  It wasn't the thought of having Rafe's baby that upset Angela, it was the uncertainly of Rafe's future, of their future. Assuming God allowed them one.

  "I'm sorry the thought of having my child disturbs you," Rafe bit out.

  "That's not what I meant and you know it," Angela protested. "Neither of us know what tomorrow will bring."

  "That's why we should live for today."

  "And if there is a child?"

  "I hope to be around to help raise it." He silver eyes grew opaque. "But if I'm not, I know you'll be the best mother a child can have. The mine will give you all the security you need."

  Angela scooted onto her knees, her eyes fiercely challenging. "Damn you, Rafe Gentry! Do you think I care about security? Those aren't the words I want to hear from you."

  Rafe's jaw jutted out pugnaciously. "What do you want me to say? That I need you? Very well. I need you. Are you satisfied?"

  "Tell me more," Angela whispered.

  "You're my guardian Angel. When we met, marriage was the last thing I wanted from you. I should have listened to my conscience before you snared me into your tender web, rode away, and never looked back. I'm not good enough for you, Angel."

  Angela felt tears gathering at the corners of her eyes and dashed them away with the back of her hand. Rafe needed her; he didn't love her. That wasn't what she wanted to hear. The words had sounded almost desperate, as if love was something that would complicate his life.

  "Did you abduct me from my bed simply because you needed me? Is that all you've got to say?"

  His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I...I can't explain it. I couldn't stand the thought of Chandler having you. You belong to me, Angel, whether or not I deserve you. Leaving you unprotected wasn't an option after I saw you kissing Chandler. That scheming bastard doesn't want you; he's after your money."

  Angela lurched to her feet. "Don't you think I know that?" She glared at him. "Do you want to know how I feel about you?"

  Rafe's expression grew glum. "I already know. You married me because you're an angel, a woman who hadn't the heart to let a man hang. You never meant for our marriage to be permanent. I'm the one who stuck around when I should have left you to seek a better life. One without me."

  Angela gave an exasperated snort. "How typical of a man. If you believe that, you're dumber than I
thought. I wanted to prove Chandler had something to do with Baxter's murder. He could be the killer, but you saw fit to remove me from my home, thus curtailing my investigation. How do you expect to clear your name without my help? Surely you know by now that I'm...fond of you."

  His eyes glinted pure silver in the waning light. His stance broadened, his arms wound with steely resolve around her, crushing her to him, bringing her into the vee of his wide-spread thighs. He wanted to absorb her, to feel her melt beneath him, to feel her softness accommodate his hardness. He needed to hear her say she loved him even though he didn't have the right yet to unburden his heart. He was an outlaw, wanted for multiple crimes.

  "Just fond? If I were an optimist I'd read more into those words."

  His head lowered and his mouth covered hers. His tongue swept between her lips, caressing hers in a deep, carnal stroke. He kissed her until her chest felt deprived of air, until her knees buckled and she was his to do with as he pleased. He seemed to recognize the moment of her capitulation for he lowered her to the bedroll and followed her down.

  "Just how fond of me are you, Angel?" he growled against her lips. "I know you enjoy making love with me, dare I hope for more?"

  "The truth, Rafe Gentry, is that you're an insufferable, overbearing despot who doesn't deserve an answer. You should know without being told how I feel about you. I wouldn't allow intimacies with a man for anything less than love. Even from the first I felt an affinity to you. I looked into your eyes and knew you weren't capable of murder."

  "Yet you thought I'd killed Baxter," he charged.

  She bit her lip. "That was my first reaction. After I had time to think about it I knew I'd wronged you. That's why I was so eager to prove you innocent of Baxter's murder. I love you, Rafe. I don't know if we'll ever find happiness together, but you deserve to know."

  Incredible joy surged through Rafe. Until he realized how utterly futile it all was. "Oh, God, Angel, I'm so sorry our lives are in such a mess. You'd be better off if we had never met. I already had two strikes against me that day you saved my life. Being accused of Baxter's death only muddied the waters. I want to clear my name. Returning to Dodge City is the first step in proving to you I'm not an outlaw."

  She took his face between her hands and brought his mouth to hers. Her kiss was gentle, forgiving, soothing.

  "You don't have to prove anything to me, Rafe Gentry. I believe you. One day you'll prove to the world that you're a decent man."

  They sank to the bedroll with mutual accord. He covered her lips; her mouth opened to his hungry tongue. She sighed, her head fell back, her throat arched. With a hoarse groan he kissed the slender column, licked the salty sheen from the tender spot at its base. She moved against him, as if to ease the tingling of her flesh as his fingers sought the wet heat between her thighs. He probed the slick petals of her sex, spreading her, easing his erection inside, nearly mad with the need to possess her fully.

  Angel. His Angel. She loved him. God help her. God help them both.

  He entered her slowly. She smiled at him, a knowing, womanly smile, opening herself wide to receive him. She rocked against him, holding him tightly in the cradle of her slender arms and legs, squeezing him snugly inside her. But it was not enough for Rafe.

  Reversing their positions, he brought her on top of him, letting her set the pace as he feasted on her breasts dangling enticingly before his face.

  Moving together in fierce possession, they strove for fulfillment, breaths mingling, voices raised in exultation. The tension and hunger they felt for one another was nurtured and sustained by their searching mouths, and when the ultimate pleasure surged over them, Rafe buried himself deep within her, spilling himself inside her as her fingers dug whitely into his shoulders. Tremors rippled through him into her, and she came with a loud cry, her body stretched taut, her head thrown back, neck arched, eyes tightly closed.

  Massively overpowering emotions burned behind Rafe's eyes and deep within his heart as held his Angel tightly within the circle of his arms. He knew intuitively that he would do whatever it took, go to any lengths to clear his name and give Angel the kind of life she deserved.

  They rested the following day, stirring themselves only to eat, make love, bathe, and make love again. After their evening meal Angel folded up their clean clothing and packed their saddlebags. They left their private Eden early on the second morning.

  Unwilling to risk being identified in Ordway, they gave the city a wide berth and continued into Kansas. When they rode through a small border town, Rafe was pleased to note that no wanted posters bearing his likeness nor those of his brothers were prominently displayed. In fact, the town lacked a sheriff and lawmen of any kind. What it did have was a rather crude hotel.

  "What do you say?" Rafe asked, giving the hotel a once over. "Shall we spend the night in a real bed and eat a decent meal in a restaurant?"

  "All I see is a Mexican cantina," Angela noted.

  "Some pretty good food can be had in cantinas," Rafe said. "I'm willing to give it a try if you are."

  "A bed does sound good. A bath in warm water sounds better. Are you sure it's safe?"

  "I seriously doubt anyone in this town has ever seen a wanted poster," Rafe assured her. "It may be our last chance for a bed until we reach Dodge City."

  Rafe checked them into the Siesta hotel and they were given the key to a room on the ground floor. Apparently they were the only guests for the sleepy-eyed clerk seemed rather startled when Rafe asked if he had a vacant room.

  "They're all vacant, mister," he said. "Take your pick."

  "You don't have many visitors pass through, do you?" Rafe observed.

  "Not many. Sometimes a few drovers passing through on their way back from a trail drive to the railhead will stop in, but this is the wrong time of year."

  "We'd like a tub and hot water," Rafe said.

  "That costs extra, mister, in advance. So does the stable out back for your horses."

  "I'll take the horses around back and bring in the saddlebags," Rafe told Angela as he dug in his pocket for money to pay their tab. Before they'd entered the hotel, he'd taken some of the cash from Angel's saddlebags and stuffed it into his vest pocket. "Wait here for me."

  Rafe returned a few minutes later with their saddlebags and guided Angel down the dim hallway to their room. Though sparsely furnished, the sheets and counterpane appeared clean, as did the curtains flapping in the breeze at the open window. Rafe gazed longingly at the bed, dropped the saddlebags and flopped down on the quilted counterpane with a exaggerated sigh. He grinned and held his hand out to Angela.

  Further persuasion wasn't necessary as Angela joined him. When he turned and reached for her, Angela pushed him away.

  "No, not yet. Baths first, then dinner."

  "You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Gentry," Rafe growled. "Very well, we'll do it your way, but I intend to put this bed to good use tonight."

  The meal they purchased at the cantina after they each had bathed in the huge wooden tub dragged into their room by a young hotel employee was surprisingly good. The only discordant note to the evening was when a rough looking character dressed in buckskins kept staring at Rafe. He wore a week's growth of beard and his hair looked as if it hadn't seen a comb in days. Angela must have noticed too for she insisted they leave before Rafe finished his coffee.

  "I don't like the way that man looked at you," Angela said once they were back inside their room.

  "He was looking at you," Rafe teased, trying to put her mind at ease. He'd noticed the man himself and hoped he wasn't a bounty hunter. That's all they needed now.

  Rafe sauntered over and locked the door. "I'm ready to make use of that bed now."

  Rafe loved Angel with a fierceness that surprised even him. The uncertainty of their future produced an urgency in him that drove everything from his mind but the woman clinging to him in sweet surrender. His worries melted away when he heard Angel cry out and felt her body convulse around him. Giving h
is own passion free rein, he spilled himself inside her. Blissful moments passed as the last dregs of passion flowed from him into her.

  Hugging Angel close against him, Rafe finally succumbed to the concern that had plagued him since spotting the stranger in the cantina. He sensed danger. Even now he felt it closing in on him. He must have been loco to think he could single-handedly clear himself and his brothers of bank robbery charges. He was beginning to think that bringing Angel with him was a mistake, that he was endangering her life instead of protecting it.

  The longer Rafe thought about the stranger in the cantina the more certain he became that the man had recognized him. He glanced at Angel. She was sleeping soundly. Carefully he extracted himself from her arms, rose, and dressed. He was the kind of man who faced danger head on once he identified it.

  The hotel lobby was deserted when Rafe walked past the desk and out the door. He headed toward the cantina. The stranger looked to be a drinking man and the last time Rafe had seen him he was sitting at a table with a bottle of tequila before him. But he wasn't there now. Rafe was a realist, he knew the man wouldn't leave town had he recognized Rafe.

  He turned away from the cantina and retraced his steps back to the hotel. Maybe he'd been wrong all along. Maybe the man had been staring at Angel. And maybe pigs fly, Rafe thought, disgruntled. He recognized a bounty hunter when he saw one.

  "Rafe Gentry?"

  Rafe went for his weapon but the gun barrel pressing against his back was a powerful deterrent.

  "That would be a mistake, mister," the disembodied voice behind him growled. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

  Rafe cursed the full moon that made him a target as well as his lack of attentiveness. "Who are you?"

  "Name's Clyde Dudley."

  Rafe stifled a groan. He knew Dudley, not personally, but he'd heard of him. He was a bounty hunter, and a damned good one. He'd heard that Dudley brought in more men than all the other bounty hunters combined.

  "What do you want?" Rafe asked, though he already knew the answer.

  "I've been waiting for you. I knew you recognized me back there in the cantina, just as I recognized you."