The Outlaws: Rafe Page 21

"Well...er...I..." Wingate blustered.

  "He bought it for back taxes and gave it to me and Ted for a wedding present," Delia revealed. "I'm sorry, Rafe."

  "There's nothing you can do to get the farm back," Wingate insisted. "You would have lost it in any event."

  "I've grown quite fond of the place, Rafe," Delia said. "I don't think I can give it up, and Ted is trying hard to make it as productive as it was before the war. I hope you'll settle for knowing the land is being taken care of by people who love it."

  "I've already accepted that we've lost the farm," Rafe allowed. "Jess is a doctor, not a farmer, and Sam would rather chase after rainbows than be tied to land. As for myself," he sent Angela a tender look, "I have other interests right now."

  "Here's your guns, Gentry," Jenkins said, handing Rafe his gunbelt. Rafe promptly bucked it around is hips.

  "Before I leave," Rafe asserted, "I want something official to take with me, words to the effect that the Gentry brothers are no longer wanted for bank robbery."

  Jenkins nodded. "It will take a few minutes to write out the paperwork. I'll make sure the wanted posters are removed from circulation, so you needn't worry about that. Word might not reach every city in which a poster is placed, so don't lose the document I'm preparing for you."

  "Don't worry, sheriff, I won't let it out of my sight."

  Wingate and Delia had already taken their leave when Rafe tucked the document affirming his innocence inside his vest pocket, took Angela's arm, and exited the jailhouse.

  "I've taken a room at the Dodge House," Angela said, eyeing the sea of mud standing between her and her destination.

  A grin split Rafe's features as he swung her into his arms and stepped into the street with the aplomb of a chivalrous knight. "I've been looking for an excuse to hold you in my arms ever since I left the jailhouse," he bantered.

  Rafe skirted around the stagecoach that had just pulled into town to discharge passengers and carried Angela across the street to the hotel. He didn't give a damn what people thought. He'd gone through hell for the right to hold Angel in his arms. Unfortunately he still had a long way to go before he could claim Angel without fear of being hung for murder.

  Pressing her face against his chest, Angela whispered her room number and Rafe headed down the long corridor. She produced the key from her reticule and unlocked the door. Rafe carried her inside and kicked the door shut with a booted heel. Then he lowered her to her feet and kissed her with all the love and longing pulled from the depth of his soul.

  Her fingers plucked at the buttons on his shirt. Rafe moaned against her mouth. Her touch scorched him. His loins turned to stone. He wanted to topple her on the bed, throw up her skirts and thrust himself inside her. It nearly took more control than he possessed to break off the kiss and hold her hands away from him.

  "I'm filthy and I need a shave," he choked out."

  "I don't care," Angela whispered as she dragged him toward the bed. "Love me, Rafe, love me now."

  They sprawled across the bed. Rafe moaned as need pounded through him. Loving Angel was his destiny. He kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the sensitive spot just below her ear. His fingers made short work of the buttons on her dress as he pushed it off her shoulders and lowered his mouth over her nipples, sucking them through the thin material of her shift. Everything he wanted to say to her went out of his head as she arched against him, crying out her need.

  Rafe raised himself enough to shed his gunbelt, push his trousers down around his ankles, and rid her of her dress and petticoats.

  "Hurry, Rafe," Angela panted.

  There was no time for finesse, no time to love her properly, they were both too needy, too hungry for one another. His hand slid down between their bodies, into her moist heat, and came away wet. Her slender thighs came around him as he covered her with his body. He kissed her deeply and slowly. When she returned his kiss, Rafe felt as if she'd reached inside him and ripped out his heart. With a groan of surrender he opened her with his fingers and pushed himself inside her tight passage.

  He heard her breath hitch, felt her tighten around him, drawing him deeply inside her, until she had all of him. His hips lifted and fell as he surged forward, creating a glorious rhythm that brought them both to a gasping, explosive climax.

  "I'm sorry," Rafe said when his breathing returned to some semblance of normalcy. "You deserve better than that." He gave her a quick kiss and rose from bed. "I'll do better when I return."

  "Where are you going?"

  "To the bathhouse down the street. I won't be long." He pulled up his trousers and bucked his gunbelt in place. "Wait for me."

  Rafe sank down into the tub of hot water with a grateful sigh. He washed quickly, then rested his head against the rim and relaxed. He must have dozed, for he was jerked awake by the unmistakable sound of a pistol hammer being drawn back. Instinctively he reached for his gunbelt he'd placed on the floor beside the tub, but it wasn't there. He glanced upward, into the eyes of the last man he expected to see in Dodge City.

  "Desmond Dexter! What in the hell are you doing here?"

  "Chandler wired me that Angela had disappeared. I deemed it my duty as her next of kin to return to the Golden Angel and see to the running of the mine. I boarded a stage in Wichita for a return trip to Canyon City.

  "I happened to see you carrying my stepdaughter across the street when the stage stopped in Dodge to discharge passengers. I feared you might have spotted me but you had eyes only for Angela."

  "Remove that gun from my face," Rafe said tersely.

  "Oh, no, you're not getting out of this one, Gentry. News travels fast in a town this size. While I was pondering how to proceed, I heard that the banker lied about the bank robbery, and that the Gentry brothers are no longer wanted for that crime."

  "That's right," Rafe said warily.

  "How do you suppose the sheriff will react when he learns Rafe Gentry is wanted in Colorado for murder?"

  Rafe bit out a curse. "Damn you, Dexter! What do you want from me? Why are you so determined to hurt your stepdaughter?"

  "Angela was always a haughty little bitch. I stayed with her mother because I knew that one day Angela would come into a lot of money from her father. I handpicked Chandler to marry her after he promised to share the wealth with me. Then the little bitch had to strike out on her own for Colorado. She couldn't wait for me or Chandler to accompany her after the wedding.

  "But that's not the half of it. You entered the picture and screwed up everything. When I saw you and Angela on the street today I knew my luck had changed. Step out of that tub and get dressed."

  Rafe didn't argue. Being caught with his pants down, so to speak, was embarrassing. He dried quickly and dressed. He made a quick move toward his guns, and felt the business end of Dexter's gun pressing into his back.

  "It seems like you hold all the cards," Rafe drawled.

  "Indeed I do."

  "What do you want from me?"

  "You're going to return to the hotel, ask for paper and pen, and write a note to Angela."

  "And what exactly is this note supposed to say?" Rafe asked warily.

  "It's to say that you've thought it over and decided to go it alone from here. You're to tell Angela that you'll never be free of those murder charges, and that Colorado isn't healthy for you. Tell her she'd be in your way. Then wish her a happy life."

  "You're mad if you think Angel will believe that."

  "You'd better make her believe it," Dexter warned. "Do you want to drag Angela down with you when I inform the sheriff you're wanted in Colorado for murder? I have the wanted posters with me. It would take little effort to present them to the sheriff.

  "I gather Angela fancies herself in love with you," Dexter continued. "She'd be devastated should you end up swinging at the end of a rope. Is that what you want for her? She'd be better off if you quietly disappear from her life. Your violent past will catch up with you one day, then what will become of Angela?"

 
; "All you want from Angel is her money," Rafe charged. "You care nothing about her or her future."

  "Not true. I'll make sure she weds well and the mine prospers under my direction. What can you do for her but make her life miserable?"

  "I can protect her from you," Rafe said.

  Dexter gave him a flinty stare. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I can shoot you now and take you in dead. The reward says dead or alive. Make your choice, Gentry. Write Angela that note or die."

  "How do I know you won't kill me after I write the note?" Rafe charged.

  "I'm not a violent man. I won't kill you unless you force me. As for collecting the reward, I suspect Angela would think harshly of me if I turned you over to the law. On the other hand, if she believes you've left of your own free will, she'll be hurt but will eventually get over it."

  "You're one devious bastard, Dexter."

  "I don't have time to bandy words with you," Dexter argued. "Someone might barge in here and then I will be forced to shoot you. Name your poison, Gentry?"

  "You don't leave me much choice, Dexter. I'll write the letter."

  "I knew you'd see things my way," Dexter smirked. "Walk beside me and don't try anything foolish. There's a cocked pistol in my pocket. He picked up Rafe's gunbelt and prodded him out the door."

  They left the bathhouse and crossed the street to the hotel. Rafe asked for pen and paper at the desk and moved down to the end of the counter to write his note. Dexter dictated as Rafe wrote. When Rafe finished, Dexter snatched the note from Rafe's hand, read it, and handed it back to him.

  "Tell the clerk to deliver it to your room," Dexter ordered.

  Rafe folded it in half and carried it back to the clerk, instructing him to deliver it personally to Mrs. Rafe Gentry. Dexter added a five dollar gold piece to assure prompt delivery.

  "Now what?" Rafe bit out.

  "Now I'm going to watch you ride off into the sunset with a great deal of pleasure. "Where's your horse?"

  "I assume he's stabled at the livery."

  "Very well, we'll walk to the livery together."

  Rafe waited for the right moment to escape but it never arrived. He could feel the barrel of Dexter's gun poking him in the side and knew Dexter wouldn't hesitate to shoot. Murder was a serious charge, no one would condemn Dexter for shooting an accused murderer for the reward. Besides, maybe Dexter was right. Proving himself innocent of two separate murder charges seemed an impossible feat. He was probably doing Angel a favor by walking out of her life.

  Pain laced through him. He'd already tried leaving Angel, twice, in fact, without success. Something stronger than the life force beating inside him kept drawing him back to his Angel. It wasn't Dexter's cocked gun that kept Rafe walking toward the livery. It was the hopelessness of his situation. Dexter was right about his dismal future. Pure luck and his guardian Angel had helped to clear him of bank robbery charges. But he'd be a fool to think he'd be that fortunate again. He'd probably find himself swinging at the end of a rope should he return to Ordway and boldly proclaim his innocence.

  The livery loomed ahead. Rafe found his horse easily enough and waited patiently while the hostler buckled on the saddle. When Rafe attempted to lead his gelding from the building, the hostler said, "That will be two dollars, Mr. Gentry. A dollar a day."

  Rafe turned out his pockets and shrugged. "You're the one who wants me to leave, Dexter. Pay the man."

  Muttering beneath his breath, Dexter dug two crumpled one dollar bills from his pocket and handed them to the hostler.

  "My guns," Rafe said, holding out his hand. "You wouldn't leave a man defenseless on the prairie, would you?"

  Dexter mulled over the request before handing Rafe his gunbelt. "I don't suppose you'll risk your freedom by shooting me. It would serve no purpose."

  Rafe bucked his gunbelt around his slim hips, his expression fierce. "Then again," Rafe added, "what's another murder to a man already charged with so many?"

  Dexter blanched and backed away. Rafe laughed in his face. "Coward. If I made a practice of shooting men in cold blood, you'd be the first to feel the bite of lead."

  "Bastard," Dexter hissed as Rafe mounted and kneed his horse into a hard trot. "Don't worry about Angela," Dexter called after him. "I'll see that she's taken care of."

  Rafe exerted every ounce of his willpower to keep from turning around and beating Dexter to a pulp. He imagined Angel's expressive face when she read his note. He suspected she would run the gamut of emotions. Disbelief, hurt, then finally anger. He prayed her anger would be enough to sustain her for this time there was no turning back for him. He loved her too much to drag her from town to town, one step ahead of the law.

  Angela paced the confines of the small room, waiting for Rafe to return from the bathhouse. What was keeping him? she wondered not for the first time. He'd been gone so long she was debating whether or not to venture forth and find out for herself what was keeping him. Relief shot through her when she heard a knock on the door. Nearly tripping over her own feet, she rushed to open the door.

  "Rafe! You've been gone so long I...oh, you're not Rafe."

  The desk clerk handed Angela a folded sheet of paper. "Your husband asked me to deliver this to you, Mrs. Gentry."

  Angela's hands shook as she stared at the missive. "Th...thank you," she stammered, turning away from the door and closing it behind her.

  Angela stared at the paper, waves of fear palpitating through her. She knew intuitively that the missive contained ill-tidings. She carried the note to the window, where the light was better, but still she couldn't bring herself to read what Rafe had written. Why had he written her in the first place? Why couldn't he just tell her what he wanted to say?

  Oh, God, she couldn't read it. It fell from her hand and floated to the floor. She stared down at it as if it were a snake about to bite her. With trembling fingers she bent and retrieved it. Very carefully, she unfolded the single sheet of paper. The words leaped out and punched her in the gut.

  She read the note in its entirety, then wadded it into a tight ball. Without knowledge of what she was doing, she pressed her head to the window, letting the tears spill unchecked from her eyes. Unwilling to believe what Rafe had written, Angela carefully smoothed out the paper and reread Rafe's hurtful words.

  He was leaving her. He wanted to go it alone. He knew he couldn't prove himself innocent of murder charges and she was a hindrance he didn't need. He intended to leave the territory to escape the law and bounty hunters. He encouraged her to forget him and return to the Golden Angel.

  No! her heart screamed. Rafe couldn't have written those cold words. Rafe cared for her; he'd never hurt her like that. They had made love on the rumpled bed less than two hours ago. When he returned they were going to make love again. The agony his words invoked caused her to double up in pain. Hurt and disbelief slowly dissipated as shadows deepened outside the window. Then, like an raging storm, anger filled the empty chambers of her heart, squeezing out the love that had so recently occupied it.

  How could Rafe be so heartless? How could he abandon her without a word of good-bye? Contemptible wretch. Despicable miscreant. How dare he! She couldn't count the times she'd saved his skin and this is how he repaid her? By leaving her stranded? Dear God, how could she have ever thought him the kind of man she needed? She had given him her heart. Together they could have worked miracles. Instead, he decided she was a hindrance and left her behind to fend for herself.

  Well, she wasn't helpless. She didn't need Rafe to take care of her. Her course was clear. She'd take the next stage to Canyon City and take charge of her inheritance. She had the Golden Angel, nothing else was necessary for her well-being. Not even Rafe Gentry.

  Who do you think you're kidding? a small voice inside her chided. Her inner self whispered that no man would ever make love to her like Rafe Gentry; no man would ever take his place in her heart.

  "I will do just fine without him," Angela firmly declared. Her words echoed hollowly in h
er ears, but her fierce determination to survive without Rafe Gentry overrode the pain of rejection.

  Angela went through the motions of ordering a supper she didn't eat and preparing for bed. Each act was independent of her mind. She couldn't concentrate and was unwilling to delve too deeply into her pain. Wiping her mind clean of all thought, she dropped abruptly into a restless sleep.

  Angela awakened to a dull gray sky, which suited her disposition perfected. Yesterday's events, which she'd been trying to forget, suddenly came crashing down upon her. The anguish was nearly unbearable. Dragging in a sustaining breath, she concentrated on washing and dressing, her thoughts skirting around the hard-hearted bastard who had abandoned her.

  The first thing Angela decided upon was to sell her horse and buy passage to Canyon City with the proceeds. In all the excitement yesterday she'd forgotten to wire Lawyer Goodman for funds, and she didn't intend to stick around Dodge City any longer than necessary.

  That thought had barely been born when a knock sounded on the door. Even though she told herself it couldn't possibly be Rafe, a surge of joy rushed through her. Two steps took her to the portal. She flung it open.

  The smile died on her lips. "You! What are you doing here?"

  "Hello, stepdaughter. Your greeting leaves much to be desired."

  "What do you expect after trying to marry me off to a man I despise? You know I hold no love for you, Desmond. What are you doing here?" she repeated.

  "Chandler wired me that you had disappeared. I suspected Gentry was somehow involved and booked passage on a stagecoach to Canyon City. I intended to take a hand in running the Golden Angel in your absence. You can't imagine my surprise when I saw you yesterday when I stepped off the stage to stretch my legs. It made a brief stop in Dodge to discharge passengers. Where is Gentry?"

  "Not here, as you can plainly see. Why are you still here?"

  "I decided to take a later stage. I understand the bank robbery charges against Gentry and his brothers were dropped. I wonder why the sheriff didn't seem to know about the murder charges in Colorado?"