A tear spilled then, and a fist went up to wipe it away furiously.He wanted to lean over and lick that tear and other ones away, but he forced himself to stay still, to keep an unforgiving scowl on his face.
“You better put on those trousers,” he said, turning toward the door.He stopped, looked at the drawing pad on the table, and went over to it, flipping through it, tearing some sheets off and crumpling them in his hand.
Without any more words he went to the door and started to open it.
“Rafe,” she said.He stopped dead still and then slowly turned around and looked at her.
She moved a few steps toward him, her face stricken.She stumbled, then straightened, her shoulders stiffening.She gave him one long look as if memorizing his face.
“I love you,” she said.
Rafe felt all his defenses crumbling around him.But he managed to keep his face still, his eyes noncommittal.It was the hardest thing he had ever done.Enduring the parade-ground ceremony was child’s play next to this.He forced himself to turn and walk out the door, closing it behind him, shutting it on what was brief happiness for him, potential tragedy for her.He walked away, more alone, more hollow, more heartsick, than he’d even been, even when the cell door closed on him for the first time.
She’d had to say it.She had been bursting with it.It stole her pride, her dignity, but she’d had to say it.
Shea was battered by a maelstrom of emotions, still uncertain as to the truth about Rafe.She had never been able to read those guarded eyes.She had been confused by all his contradictory actions.She had been guided only by instinct.
She was silent, huddled inside herself as she rode behind Clint in silence.He had always been kind, but today there was extra concern for her.She didn’t know whether it was because of her father, because of the awkwardness at the cabin, or because of whatever Rafe Tyler had told him.She doubted he had told Clint anything.He was a man who’d perfected the art of hiding emotions … if he felt anything at all.She’d often wondered if he had any emotions to hide.
After Rafe had left the cabin, she slowly changed from her dress into the trousers and shirt and packed the valise.She didn’t bother to check to see what had been censored from her drawing pad.Rafe wasn’t around when she came out.He was obviously willing to leave things as they had in the cabin.There was to be no good-bye.No reprieve.
Clint had been standing there, next to his saddled horse, waiting for her.He looked at the valise and shook his head unhappily.“We can’t take that.”
“Why?”
“You’re escaping from your abductors.You would hardly take that with you.”
“My drawing pad?”
“Rafe said you could take it, but …” He stood there uncomfortably.“I’m … sorry about all this, Miss Randall.You got caught in the middle of something, and you didn’t deserve that.If there’s anything I can do …”
She didn’t doubt his sincerity.The lump in her throat grew larger.No one could help.
He tried again.“Rafe … he’s hurting too.”
“Is he?”she asked.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Clint said.“Not even when I saw him in prison.He didn’t want to hurt you.”There was reluctance in his words, as if he felt he was betraying his friend and yet desperately wanted to help her in some way.
She turned away, on the verge of tears.She knew that once they started, they wouldn’t stop.
She took the drawing pad and stared at it for a few moments, then flipped it open.She took several pages from it, folded them carefully, and tucked them inside her belt.She then put the pad in the valise, dropped it on the ground, and swallowed hard, trying to pretend it didn’t matter.“He … Rafe said my father is hurt badly.”
He nodded.“He’s lost a lot of blood.The doctor said he has a concussion, and there could be infection.”
“How do you know so much?”
Clint hesitated.She was going to know sooner or later.He might as well find out now how she was going to react.“I work for Jack Randall.I live at the Circle R.”
“So that’s why I was … kept prisoner.”
He nodded.
Shea tipped her head.“Will you tell me something about him?About Jack Randall?”She had to think of something else, someone other than the man she was leaving behind.Forever.
There was a silence.“You’ll have to learn for yourself,” Clint said finally as he swung up on the horse, holding his hand down to her and guiding her up behind him.
She had turned as they left the clearing, watching the cabin until the foliage hid it, willing Rafe to appear.He didn’t.They traveled about thirty minutes, and then Clint stopped and twisted around, taking a bandanna from his neck.
