He took a piece of jerky from a pocket and started chewing on it.It was just a matter of time.
The first thing Rafe saw when he woke was Shea, her head resting on his hand.She looked so peaceful, his heart quaked with strong response.She was so incredibly lovely with that sun-tipped hair falling over her shoulder and down the side of the cot.Tenderness swept over him like tidal waves, and his hand reached over to touch the silkiness of that hair.He longed to touch the smooth skin of her cheek, but he didn’t want to wake her.
The second thing he saw was Abner, who, startled, ran down his chest and trousered leg to the end of the bed and disappeared.
He tried to sit without disturbing Shea, but her lashes fluttered open, then her eyes.They found him, and she smiled, a slow, warm, delighted smile that made him smile in return.One of his hands went to her hair and smoothed it back.
He felt so damn good with her so near.Weak as a kitten, but still filled with all those electric responses she always created in him.
Her hand smoothed the back of his hand, the hand with the scar, and she brought it to her mouth and kissed it.When he tried to pull it away, she shook her head.
Rafe winced.
“Don’t,” she said.“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.You’re not at fault.I just hate the pain you endured because of my …”
Rafe sat up and put his finger to her mouth.“Where is …?”
“I don’t know.The last I saw of him, he was taking care of the horses,” she said.
“How long have I been asleep?”
Shea rose from where she’d been sitting and went over to the door, opening it.“It’s almost dusk.”
“Do we have any food left?”
“Not much,” she said.“Two cans of peaches.Raspberries I gathered last night.”She hesitated.“What are you going to do now?”
Rafe realized he damn well didn’t know.He had put every bit of effort he had into reaching this place, and then he’d collapsed.He remembered Randall’s promise to clear his name, but he felt damn little joy in it.
He wasn’t sure he believed it.Even if he did, the prospect left him feeling hollow.
Rafe hadn’t allowed himself to consider what Randall’s confession would mean to Shea, the disgrace, the notoriety, the loss of a father she’d just discovered.
And what, really, would it accomplish?His conviction might be reversed in military records, but that was of precious little comfort when the brand would continue to mark him in the eyes of whoever he met, just as it had several days ago.
He had thought revenge would be sweet, that justice would be soothing, but now he was realizing that neither was true.Somehow, he would have to learn to live without them.And without Shea.
He stood.“I’ll check on Randall,” he said.He went to a hook where his extra shirt hung, pulled it on, and then picked up his gun from the table where he had placed it last night.He supposed his gunbelt was still in the sheriff’s office someplace.He simply hadn’t had time to look for it.He tucked the gun into his trousers, realizing he was still wary of Randall.He always would be, despite what happened last night.The man was a coward and a thief; the old anger bubbled inside him, though not to the heated degree as before.
Rafe saw Shea’s anxious expression and shrugged.“Habit,” he said, but as he went from the door, she followed as if afraid to leave him alone with Randall.
The hours of sleep had helped immensely.The arm still hurt, but his legs didn’t fail him as they’d done earlier.He checked the stable first and found Randall there, sitting against one of the walls.He also looked better, as if he had been revived by sleep, and he stood as Rafe walked in followed by Shea.
His gaze went from Rafe to Shea and hesitated there, then flickered back to Rafe.There were several questions in his eyes, but Rafe ignored them.“I wasn’t sure you would be here,” Rafe said.
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Randall said haltingly.“Your arm …”
The tension filled the air like heavy fog.Anger and regret whirled like eddies between them.Randall took a step forward, then stopped.He turned to Shea, and his mouth worked slightly.“I’m so damned sorry I’m not what … you deserve,” he said finally, his voice breaking.
Rafe saw the distress on Shea’s face, the conflict, the need she always had to comfort, yet she was holding back that comfort because of him.She trembled, her eyes wide and the blue-gray of them misted with tears.He felt her uncertainty, her confused pain, as if it were his own.
He tried to make his voice matter-of-fact.“We need something to eat.Randall, you help Shea with a fire, and I’ll see if I can’t catch some trout.”
The gesture cost him.But he was promptly rewarded by the stark gratitude in Shea’s eyes.Randall simply nodded.
From the wall of the stable Rafe took the long pole he had fashioned and started out the door, heading for the stream.He knew that Randall and Shea were behind him; he felt her presence as he always did.
Rafe turned toward the stream when he heard the first shot.Automatically, he turned around toward Shea and saw Randall throw his own body over hers as a second rifle shot came, barely missing her.It would have hit her, he knew, if Randall’s movement had not thrown them both a foot to the left.
