The look in her eyes was not that of a woman in the throes of passion. She stared up at him, fear and panic clearly ready to burst to the surface. He eased himself next to her and gathered her in his arms. Her awkward and innocent attempts to kiss him again confirmed what he already knew. Her grief-stricken mind needed to cling to someone for comfort, and he was the only other person available.
Jake cupped her cheek with his hand, and held her away from him. Confusion registered in her eyes.
“Jake,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath. “Please . . . I need you.”
Jake sucked in a lungful of air. “Sweetheart, this isn’t what you need right now.” He leaned over and kissed her gently. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do. I want to be with you.”
Jake rolled to his back, and stared up at the darkening sky. Stars twinkled in the dim light, shimmering like a sea of diamonds.
“This isn’t how to deal with your grief and loss, Rachel,” he said almost firmly, clenching his jaw. He fought for self-control. How easy it would be to take her up on her offer. He’d fantasized about this for weeks, since the first time he laid eyes on her. This wasn’t how he’d planned to make love to her. He wanted her to want him, free of guilt or a sense of loss and grief. She’d never forgive herself, or him, if he complied with her request.
“Come here,” he whispered, and drew her back into his arms. She molded herself against him, and Jake hissed. This night would test him like nothing ever had. He kissed her again, and eased her head against his shoulder. “Just lie here, and let me hold you,” he said, stroking her back.
“You promise you won’t leave me?” Her voice cracked.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His answer seemed to satisfy her, and she relaxed against him. Jake’s arms tightened protectively around her, and he sucked in a deep breath. When was the last time you refused a woman, Owens? He almost laughed out loud.
*****
Rachel opened her eyes. Everything around her was dark. The loud chirping of crickets mixed with the relaxing gurgle of running water. An overwhelming sadness swept over her, and her eyes welled up with tears. Thomas was dead. She hadn’t even told him goodbye. He’d succumbed so quickly to the cholera, she had no chance to talk to him. She recalled how he spoke his wife’s name, and realized her brother was now at peace.
Rachel inhaled a deep shuddering breath. She was alone, all alone in an unfamiliar land, heading for an unfamiliar destination. Lying on her side, she shivered and groped for a blanket. Her backside was warm, and she scooted closer to the source of the heat. Her arm bumped into something solid, and Rachel froze. Someone breathed softly against her neck.
Jake! He stirred next to her, but resumed his steady breathing. An arm clamped tighter around her middle and drew her closer to his solid form. Rachel held her breath.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. More memories flooded her mind. She’d watched Jake bury her brother this afternoon before she’d given in to her sorrow and cried in his arms. He had carried her back to camp. Overcome with grief and despair, a near panic had threatened to overtake her. Everyone she loved was gone. Dead. Irrational fear had gripped her. Fear that Jake would vanish from her life, too, and she clung to him like a tick on a hound. Tears of shame flowed down her cheeks. She’d asked . . . no, she’d practically begged him to bed her out of desperation. An overwhelming need to be loved and held in the security of someone’s arms had driven her to behave the way she did. What had she hoped to gain from it? A commitment from him to stay with her? She hadn’t been thinking rationally. How could she ever face him in the morning?
She tried to scoot away from his side, but his arm held her like a vice. She didn’t want to wake him, and relaxed her tense muscles. She craved the relief his embrace provided, relief from the pain of loss, and the turmoil in her mind about her uncertain future. She wasn’t alone is this vast unknown world. The most wonderful feeling of safety and security rushed through her, lying in Jake’s arms, along with an unfamiliar need and longing.
Why had Jake refused her? Everything she’d heard about him would have her think he wouldn’t hesitate to accept what she’d offered. He’d adamantly told her no. A deep respect and love welled up inside her for the man lying so intimately next to her. He hadn’t taken advantage of her vulnerability, although he’d had every opportunity to do so. She wasn’t sure another man would have acted as noble.
Rachel sniffed, and wiped at her eyes, careful not to disturb Jake. She relaxed fully against him, drawing warmth and comfort from him. In the morning, they would hitch up the wagon to catch up with the others, leaving Thomas in his lonely grave on this vast prairie. Losing him weighed heavily on her, but she drew comfort in the fact that he was in a better place, and reunited with his wife.
“I’ll take good care of the boys, Thomas,” she whispered. Somehow, she’d make it on her own. She had to be strong for the children’s sake. Hadn’t she done most everything else on her own so far? Over the last two years, her brother’s withdrawal from life had left her in charge of everything. This would be no different. Even without a man’s protection, she would persevere. Rachel stared into the darkness. She had three children to think about now. They depended on her.
She had no doubt that Jake would help her get to Oregon. Hopefully Mr. Wilson would allow her to continue on with the company. Being widowed was different than being an unmarried woman. He couldn’t simply leave her behind. She didn’t know what she might do if he refused to allow her to continue. Her best option might be to return to Ohio, but she’d come this far, and she couldn’t go back to her childhood home. The memories of her family would be too much to bear.
Once they reached Oregon, she would claim the land that the government promised in exchange for five years of working and producing crops. She could do this on her own. She might have to hire someone to build her a house, but she’d planted crops before, and tended the fields. Perhaps someday the right man would come along, and she would marry.
The right man is sleeping beside you this very moment. Rachel shook her head slightly at the thought. She’d fallen in love with the wrong man. What had attracted her to him in the first place? His good looks? His wild ways? Even his unconventional speech and brazen manners were exciting, no matter how infuriating they were at times.
Images of Peter entered her mind. She remembered him as a quiet, polite, and hardworking young man. Back then, she thought he was her perfect match. She smiled sadly. He would have offered her a safe and secure life, but it would also have been dull and uneventful. Jake wasn’t boring and stuffy. He made her heart beat faster each time he looked at her. Warmth seeped from the strong arm that held her tightly to him into her belly and throughout her body. If only she could hold him like that.
Tentatively, she covered his hand with her own. She could never ask him to stay with her. He’d made his intentions clear. He was leaving, and there was nothing she could do but move on with her own life, and try and forget Jake, the first man she’d ever loved.
Rachel closed her eyes, savoring the way Jake held her in his sleep. She leaned against his solid strength. It made her feel cherished and wanted. For the remainder of this night, she could pretend that he loved her, and would always hold her like this. Morning would come soon enough.
Chapter 17
Jake woke at the crack of dawn to find Rachel’s soft body molded against his. Her head rested on his arm, and his other arm wrapped possessively around her middle. Her hand covered his, while his own hand pressed against one of her breasts. Without thinking, his fingers brushed over the fabric of her dress, and her body responded to his touch. She moaned softly, and wiggled closer to him.
Jake groaned. His heated reaction to her became painfully unbearable, and he clenched his jaw. Cursing silently, he eased away from her. His restraint from the night before might not last this morning, not with her this responsive even in her sleep. Slowly, he pulled his arm out from beneath her hea
d.
“Jake?” her sleepy voice rasped.
He froze.
“Go back to sleep. It’s still early,” he whispered in her ear. She turned her head in his direction, and reached for him.
“I’m not leaving, Rachel. I’ll just get a fire started,” he said to reassure her.
She sighed softly, and nodded almost imperceptibly. Her body twisted until she faced him fully, and she buried her face in his shirt. Jake’s gut clenched when she draped her arm around his waist. He sucked in a deep breath of air.
He’d managed to finally fall asleep last night after lying awake for hours, holding Rachel in a protective embrace. His future played out before him during those sleepless hours, as he mulled over countless possibilities about what he should do once this assignment was over. Every scenario included Rachel. He couldn’t picture his life without her in it. How could she affect him so intensely in such a short amount of time?
Reverend Johnson had told him this assignment was Jake’s chance to turn his life around and to figure out exactly where he belonged. The journey wasn’t even halfway over yet, and Jake already had his answers. After weeks on the trail, he realized how much he missed Montana. The city didn’t call to him anymore. He was meant to be on his family’s cattle and guest ranch, working outdoors with horses and steers. Nothing compared to living in the “old west” for real, experiencing the hardships and determination of these pioneers firsthand. He was almost eager to return home to share his experiences with his family. Somehow he would make it up to his parents for all the hurt he’d caused them when he took off for the city. His wandering days were over.
Without Rachel, however, his life wouldn’t be complete. He wanted her to come home to him in Montana. He desperately needed to talk to the reverend. This had to have been the old man’s plan all along. If he could send Jake to the past, surely he could send Rachel to the future.
Jake tightened his hold around the girl sleeping in his arms. He couldn’t let her go. He would stay in the nineteenth century if she couldn’t come with him. If that’s what the reverend had in mind for him, there would be no need to tell Rachel about time travel. He had no idea how she would react to such a revelation. The best thing he could do for now was to remain silent on the matter, and not say anything to her, including how he felt about her. Once he talked to the reverend, he’d know what to do, but Jake was absolutely sure of one thing: he refused to live in either century without her. But first he had to convince her that he wasn’t the jackass she thought he was. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, and a veil of warmth wrapped itself around his heart. Whatever it takes, sweetheart. I promise that eventually you’ll see me as someone other than a guy who’s only out to score with you.
Rachel stirred in his embrace, and Jake eased his hold on her. Her face moved away from his chest, and she lifted her head toward him. Her eyes fluttered open. In the dawning light, she looked so darn cute, her head nestled in the crook of his arm, staring up at him, a hint of confusion in her sleepy eyes. A fresh rush of adrenaline surged through him. She was meant to be his.
Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, then closed again. A soft content smile spread across her face, her eyes still unfocused in the chasm between sleep and wakefulness. A wave of heat and tenderness crashed into his heart, and his chest constricted almost painfully. The love that rushed through him was almost more than he could stand.
Before he could stop himself, Jake cupped the back of her head and touched his lips to hers. Just one light kiss. Slowly, he moved his mouth across hers. His arm tightened around her waist, and the flame of desire inside him roared to life more fully than before. A cattle stampede couldn’t have held him back at the moment. Touching her lips lightly was no longer enough. Jake cursed himself silently. Reluctantly, he forced his lips from her mouth. His hand cupped her cheek, and he stared down into blue eyes that were filled with a hint of wonder, surprise, and . . . desire.
“Jake,” she whispered his name, and reached her hand up to touch his face.
Jake clenched his jaw and cursed again. His actions were no longer his own. With a throaty groan, he brought his mouth back down on hers. He intensified his kiss, slanting his lips across hers. He raked his fingers through her hair, and rolled her onto her back.
Rachel’s hands clutched at his back and shoulders, her touch scorching his skin through the cotton shirt he wore. Her soft moans and innocent response fueled his desire to even greater heights. He knew he had to stop. This was definitely not how he planned to prove his case that he wasn’t the lowlife she thought he was. His lips trailed along her cheek and down to her neck. Her short gasps for air would be his undoing. His hand along her waist traveled up her side and back down again, and he tried to commit every curve of her soft body to memory.
Rachel squirmed beneath him. With a willpower he didn’t think he possessed, he forced himself away from her. He cleared his throat, and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry, Rachel,” he said in a raspy voice, and tried to contain his out of control breathing. Acting like a coward, he couldn’t even look her in the eye. Rachel was grieving for her brother, dammit, and he was behaving like a jerk, taking complete advantage of her. He sure as hell wasn’t making a good case for himself as an honorable guy. Jake rolled to his other side. His heart was sure to jump right up into his throat. When had a woman ever made him feel so completely out of control? Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself off the ground. He needed to put some distance between them, or he might lose his mind altogether.
“I’ll get a fire started,” he grumbled. Without looking back, he headed toward the river.
****
Rachel sat up straight in the wagon, adjusting the reins in her hand. Her sweaty palms made holding on to the leather difficult. The lines slipped through her fingers time and again. Blisters already formed on her palms from the unaccustomed task of driving the team. When Jake called a stop for the noon rest, she would have to dig out Thomas’ gloves to wear. The wagon bounced over a rut in the hard packed road, and Rachel gritted her teeth. She definitely preferred walking to the jarring ride in the wagon.
Squinting her eyes, she looked ahead. As far as she could see, the endless prairie stretched before her, with only the occasional swell of a hill changing the outline. Two lines of wagon ruts scarred the ground, which served as a guide where to steer the mules. Jake rode far ahead of her, sometimes disappearing from sight. He’d acted quiet and surly this morning after his abrupt departure from his bedroll. Waking from a content sleep, Rachel found herself in his arms, his lips pressed to hers. What she’d first thought was a dream had quickly turned to reality. The wonderful feelings that rushed through her were indescribable. It was as if liquid fire surged through her, and she gripped Jake’s back, wanting to hold him to her for as long as possible. Her waist, and all along her sides and ribcage hummed with the memory of his hands on her. Her breasts suddenly tingled.
Why had he stopped so abruptly? He seemed angry when he jumped up from the ground. Rachel swallowed back the lump in her throat. Did she not measure up to his usual lady friends? She had no experience in these matters, and didn’t even know how to approach him about it. She certainly didn’t want to come across as some wanton woman.
The night before weighed shamefully on her mind. He’d refused her then, too. What if Jake had accepted her desperate plea for comfort during her time of despair and grief? Rachel expelled the air from her lungs, and swiped at her moist forehead. They’d barely spoken all morning. His sullen attitude reminded her of Thomas, and experience had taught her to leave a man alone when he was in such a mood. Thomas had only become angrier when she’d tried to approach him during those times. Before Thomas’ death, Jake had seemed pleased that she finally accepted his attention after weeks of taunting her. What had caused him to change his mind?
Earlier this morning, Jake had silently prepared a breakfast of flapjacks, proving himself rather competent at the
task. He’d eaten quickly and told her to get ready to leave, that they needed to catch up with the other wagons. While she spent a few quiet moments at Thomas’ grave after packing away the supplies, Jake had hitched the team. He’d offered to drive the wagon, but she assured him she was quite capable.
The morning hours dragged on excruciatingly slow. Rachel’s back ached from the jarring ride, and her arm muscles burned from controlling the team. She hadn’t focused on the road ahead in quite some time when the three-beat clopping of a galloping horse overrode the jingling of harness and steady, even cadence of the mules’ hooves on the ground.
Rachel raised her head and squinted beyond the ears of the mules. Jake reined in his horse alongside the wagon. The frown on his face made her heart leap to her throat. She pulled back on the leather lines, and brought the wagon to a halt.
“There’s a rig about a mile up ahead,” Jake said, meeting her eyes. “The Horners.” He paused, his lips drawn in a tight line. A sinking feeling came over her at his hard stare. “They’re all dead.”
Rachel’s hand covered her mouth. “Cholera?” she asked quietly. Jake nodded.
“We’ll stop here for a while. I need to go burn everything.”
“Burn? Shouldn’t we bury them?” The thought sent shivers down her spine.
“It’s faster than digging three holes, and less chance of contaminating more of the area,” Jake said gruffly.
Rachel didn’t argue with him, but wondered silently why Jake had buried Thomas if he thought burning would prevent the spread of the disease. She remembered Mr. and Mrs. Horner, and their quiet son Michael. How could an entire family just die like that? What if Ben or Mary Holland were sick, too? What about the boys?
Come Home to Me (Second Chances Time Travel Romance Series Book 1) Page 16
