“Have you learned anything yet?”
“I think so.”
Damn, he wished those eyes weren’t quite so clear, so direct.
“I damn well hope so, Miss Randall,” he said, “because next time you try anything, you’ll spend the rest of your time here in the cabin with a bucket.”His voice was harsher than he intended.Her face flushed red, and he felt like the schoolyard bully.But his choices were gone.He had to live with the ones he’d made, and by God, so did she.“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” she repeated, her eyes flashing rebellious fire again.
“I’ll wait here then,” he said.“Don’t make me regret that trust.”
“Such as it is,” she said bitterly.
“Do you deserve any more?”
Her eyes seemed to burn through him now.Angry.Combative.“I don’t owe you any.”
“No,” he agreed mildly.“You don’t.”
He knew his answer surprised her.He didn’t understand why he kept battling with her, why he didn’t just ignore her as he should.
But he did know.He was so damned lonely.He thought he had conquered and caged those feelings, just as he had been caged, but he hadn’t.Except for Ben and Clint, he’d not had a prolonged conversation with a human being for ten years.And except for that very brief coupling in the whorehouse, neither had he been with a woman, even to talk.He hadn’t realized the depth of his need until he was attracted to the daughter of his enemy, a woman who despised him and had every right to do so.
As that understanding flooded over him, his anger toward her father grew even deeper, even more bitter.His freedom had been taken, his pride, his self-respect, his future.Now he found even his will had been twisted into something he no longer controlled.
A cloak of darkness seemed to smother him, keeping out any light that had found its way into his consciousness.He could never have a woman like Shea Randall, never whisper endearments in the night, or create children, or stand beside a wife with pride.He hadn’t understood before.And now he realized that the enjoyment he’d felt sitting with her yesterday and watching the rapt attention on her face as the bears approached had been born of the need for normalcy.For simple companionship.
He heard her approaching, and he turned away.He didn’t want her to see the mist in his eyes.Hate, he reminded himself.Remember hate.Something had to fill that hole inside him, and it could never be love.
It had to be hate.There was nothing more for him.Randall had ensured that.
Rafe scooped up a pailful of water from the stream and headed back to the cabin.He ignored the tight knot in his throat, the aching need to look at her.
Chapter 11
Rafe welcomed the prospect of action after so many days of inactivity.He met Ben and Skinny Ware five miles from Casey Springs, and they rode toward the town side by side.
There was a half-moon revealed by drifting clouds that hurried through the sky as if chasing an elusive phantom.
He also welcomed escaping from the growing tension between him and his prisoner.In the past two days they had said little to each other, Rafe trying to build an unbreachable barrier between them.
His only lapse had been taking her back to the waterfall yesterday, knowing that he would have to keep her locked in the cabin while he was gone.The mother bear and her cub had been there again, and Shea had watched with the same bewitching eagerness as before, turning to him once with such a delighted smile that he couldn’t help but respond with a slight smile of his own.She’d looked startled, then confused, and returned her gaze suddenly to the animals.
They had both been silent on the way back to the cabin.He’d dished himself out some of the last of the stew Shea had made two days earlier and retreated outside to eat.She found a spot under a tree and read a book.He’d glanced her way occasionally, mainly, he’d told himself, to make sure she was still there, and sometimes found her gaze on him.But it had always turned away so quickly, he couldn’t read her expression.Dislike, most probably.Contempt.Anger.Distrust.
Later that night he had crafted a lock pick from a spoon in the cabin.And now, with the pick in the sheath hanging from his belt, he turned to Ben.“You know what to do?”
Ben nodded.“The old mine just outside town.I’ll set the dynamite off at exactly four, then the shack on the other side of town fifteen minutes later.And then I’ll meet you behind the express office.”He took out his watch and adjusted the time to correspond exactly with the one he had purchased for Rafe.
Rafe nodded.“Skinny and I will blow the safe when you dynamite the shack.Hopefully, most of the town will have gone to the mine to investigate and won’t know where the second blast came from.”
He had debated whether it was best to create a diversion or risk one lone explosion at the express office and get out before anyone came.But he wanted to be sure he found the right strongbox, and that might take several minutes.He and the others had settled on confusion as the best tactic.
The town was quiet.The saloons closed at 2:00A.M., sometimes later if there were enough customers.Four, they knew, would find the streets empty.
