Renegade Bride

by Barbara Ankrum

  "So when they confronted us there along the river, my father welcomed them into our camp. It was his last mistake."

  Mariah tightened a hand over his clenched fist. His chest heaved as if he'd been running and his eyes shone with an abiding hatred she'd seen there only twice before.

  "There were others with them," he went on. "Pierre turned a gun on us and another one threw a rope over a cottonwood branch. My father didn't believe at first what they intended to do. He talked with them as he would have to me. But it only seemed to infuriate Pierre." Creed looked down at their intertwined hands.

  "I tried to fight, but there were too many. They tied our hands and put us on our horses. Finally, my father pleaded with them, not for himself, but..." his voice choked, "for me."

  Mariah's stomach twisted as she listened to the unbearable memory he'd kept locked away for so long.

  "Pierre obliged him by letting me watch my father go first. I'll never forget the look he sent me before they kicked the horse out from under him." Moisture gathered behind his closed eyelids and he squeezed them tighter. "'I never thought it would come to this, boy', he said. 'I never thought—'"

  Creed shoved himself up to a sitting position, leaving her alone on the stiff-haired buffalo fur. His chest heaved as if he couldn't quite catch his breath. Mariah lay silent, not even touching him. She had the sense he wasn't there with her anymore, but reliving it again, with all the pain that came with it.

  The firelight flickered across his profile, deepening the darkness in his face. His voice was almost fragile, as if it might splinter into a thousand pieces if he went on.

  "He didn't... die right away," Creed continued almost in a whisper. "They made sure of that by the way they tied his knot. I saw him choke..." He dropped his head into his hands. "The... look in his... eyes—it seemed like forever before... before he stopped... moving. And then he... he was dead. Just like that. A lifetime gone, snuffed. And those... those bastards were grinning. Laughing. I had never wanted to live more than I did at that moment. I wanted to... kill them with my bare hands. To rip them apart piece by piece for what they'd done. But—" His hand went automatically to his throat as if he could feel the rope there still and he stared at the crackling fire.

  "The next thing I knew, they were whooping and riding their horses around mine until my pony bolted. I saw them ride off laughing even as the rope... cinched around my... my neck." He was breathing furiously. "I was of little consequence to them. Just a loose end. I understood that as I felt myself kicking for the ground that wasn't there... felt the life ebbing out of me.

  "I don't know how long it took for everything to go black, disappear. Seconds, minutes. Then—" His brows dropped, remembering. "Then, I was somewhere else. I was outside of myself. I saw—"

  He stopped short, the strange look gone from his eyes, and he turned to her with a blank expression.

  "What?" She sat up beside him, wrapping her arms around him as if she could protect him from the pain. "What did you see?"

  "Nothing." He stood. His body was perfection in the firelight, his face was still as carved marble.

  "Something," she prodded.

  His fists tightened and he turned to her. "I didn't mean to—you'll think I'm crazy."

  "Don't tell me what I'll think."

  "It is crazy." He walked to the fire and shoved another log in, sending up a cascade of sparks. For a long moment he watched it. At last, he turned back to her. "It... it changed me."

  "Changed you... how?"

  "You've seen me. You know what I am."

  She'd never seen him so vulnerable. She searched for the right words, praying she wouldn't abuse the trust glimmering in his eyes. "I've seen that you're a good man. A kind man."

  He laughed harshly. "I'm a killer."

  "No. That's not what you are. I thought so, at first. But I was wrong."

  His body relaxed a fraction, as if he'd been waiting for a blow that hadn't come. "I am what I've become. And I'm not the same man I was... before."

  "I didn't know you then. I only know what I see." She shook her head. "I only care for the man I know now. It doesn't matter what you were before—"

  He turned to her, his eyes soft and pleading. He sat on the edge of the bed. "You asked... how I knew how to find this place in the snow."

  She nodded slowly.

  "And how I knew to come back to camp when LaRousse was there, though I didn't see him?"

  She stared unblinkingly.

  "And the first time I touched you and I felt... it was so strong it nearly knocked me over and I knew... I knew we'd end up right here where we are."

  "Yes." It was all she could say, because she'd felt it that day, too, as she still did every time they touched.

  "It's a legacy of that... that day. Something I never wanted, something I can't control. It just comes and... I know things. Things I shouldn't know. The first time it happened was about two weeks after my father's death. I thought I had lost my mind.

  "I was in Virginia City and I shook hands with a farrier who had just finished shoeing my horse. When I touched him, an image flashed through my mind of his leg pinned beneath the wheel of a wagon. Of course, I said nothing to him, but three days later, it happened. A wagon rolled over him, pinning his leg. He lost it."

  Mariah could see the pain it cost him to know such a thing. To know and not be able to stop it. "Go on."

  "It's been like that ever since. I see things; sometimes it requires a touch, sometimes not. Sometimes it's only a feeling, not an image. Crazy, huh?"

  Mariah sank back against the pillow, trying to absorb what he'd just told her. She understood now what he'd meant. If anyone else had said these things, no doubt she would have reacted with fear or disbelief. But it was Creed telling her, and she'd trusted him with her life. Nothing he could say would ever change that. She shook her head slowly. "No, I don't think you're crazy. Some might call it a gift."

  "I never have," he said softly.

  "Without it, Jesse and I would both be dead."

  His gaze dropped to his hands. "I know."

  "What happened to you, Creed, that day?"

  He fingered the curly hide beneath his hand. "I've never talked about it. I'm not sure I can tell you. I'm not sure I believe it myself." She watched him in silence.

  "I was dying, I could feel... my life... leaving me. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, though it felt longer. Much longer." A tremor went through him, though he didn't seem to notice it. His knuckles went white around the buffalo fur. "I saw myself kicking, dying, as if... as if it was someone else. I remember a moment of pity for the one who was dying. I wasn't afraid. There was only this light. I... heard my mother's voice, sensed her beside me. She spoke to me... something in French, but I've never been able to remember her words."

  He swallowed hard and looked up at her. "Then I saw a man ride up and cut my... cut me down. I felt myself falling. When I opened my eyes, the man was leaning over me, shouting at me to breathe." He lifted his eyes to hers. "That man was Seth."

  Mariah braced a trembling palm against the hide, her mind whirling. "Seth? My Seth?"

  "Out, ma petite. Your Seth. He was heading through there for Alder Gulch when he heard the shouting. He got to me just in time to see them ride off, leaving me swinging. He cut me down and ripped the rope from my throat. Forced me to breathe again."

  No.

  "He buried my father and stayed with me until I was strong enough to ride. Then he invited me to come along with him to the gulch. We've been friends ever since." Creed shrugged, staring at his hands. "He didn't even know me. He could have ridden away from that kind of trouble and left me to die. I was almost there." Creed looked up. "But he didn't." Creed took a halting breath. "I owe him my life. Ironic, isn't it? It's only because of him that I'm here with you now."

  "Oh, God." Mariah's eyes slid shut in misery. Now she understood.

  "Well put." Creed's fists flexed, searching for something to punch. "So here w
e are, the three of us. Whatever destiny brought me back, Seth is a part of it, has been since that first moment. And now... I've betrayed him." Creed pounded a fist into the hide, sending up a cloud of dust. "He saves my life and I've spoiled his woman."

  A coldness icier than the air outside the cabin crept over her. I'm not his woman anymore. Can't you see that, Creed? I'm yours. Always and forever. She forced herself to face reality. He'd spoken no words of love. Nothing to make her think he wouldn't give her back to Seth when they got there. Nothing to bind them but what they had shared with each other tonight. But that, for her, was enough to last a lifetime. Her voice, when she spoke, was barely audible. "Spoiled?"

  His gaze met hers. "You were... une jeune vierge. A virgin."

  "And did you think I wouldn't be?" She damned the catch in her voice.

  "Of course not." He furrowed his hair back with both hands. "Hell. It's pretty obvious I wasn't thinking at all. If I had been, we wouldn't be in this situation."

  She turned her head away sharply and gazed at the fire. "Are you saying you're sorry we... about what happened?"

  "Sorry I made love to you? Or sorry I ruined you for Seth?" he countered.

  She glared back at him, afraid to choose one over the other. Afraid to hear the truth.

  His eyes locked with hers as he moved toward her from across the bed. Like a stalking animal, he came closer. She watched him come, but found she couldn't move. With two hands he took her shoulders and shoved her down on the buffalo hide. He hovered over her, a fierce breath away, while his eyes roved over her face and hair as if he were memorizing her.

  "No, Mariah." His mouth dipped down to cover hers. His lips were gentle, pleading. "How can I be sorry about making love to you," he breathed along her jaw, "when I want you again already?" He pressed himself against her. "When you can do this to me by just being near you—"

  "Creed—"

  He lowered his mouth to hers again, silencing her, sending her mind spinning away from the rights and the wrongs of his kiss. When he lifted his head, his gaze locked with hers. "I don't regret this, ma bijou. Not tonight. Not tonight."

  Need overrode reason. Passion thundered through them like the storm raging outside. What was done was done, there was no undoing it. Not tonight, not tomorrow.

  Not ever.

  He dropped his mouth to her breast again, sucking, pulling hard on the beaded rosy nub. His teeth rasped the sensitive skin, inflaming her.

  "Oh... Creed..." She wanted... she needed... all of him. Sinking her fingers into thick ebony hair she pulled him closer to her breast. She gasped as his fingers dipped past the triangle of hair curled at the apex of her legs and found her once more, stroking her to the brink of madness.

  Reaching down, her palm skimmed the muscles of his abdomen until they brushed the silken heat of him. He let out a low sound and flexed his hips against her hand.

  "Ah, Dieu, Mariah... yes..."

  She stroked him as he had her, until he groaned and turned her over onto her back. His knee impatiently thrust her legs apart. She welcomed the invasion, ached for it. His tongue laved her breast, abrading her nipple with fire, then trailed upward until his teeth closed tantalizingly around the lobe of her ear.

  "I won't hurt you this time," he promised against her ear, tormenting the inside of it with his tongue.

  She twisted until her mouth found his and she told him with her kiss that it didn't matter. With a groan, he deepened the kiss and entered her in a quick, certain thrust. While his hips moved against hers, the hair on his chest rasped against her breasts, creating an unbearable friction.

  She hooked her ankles around the backs of his legs and drew her knees up, urging him closer, closer. Her hands moved against the flexing muscles of his back to the thrusting movements of his hips, awed by the sheer animal power of him.

  Slow first, then faster, they fused like tinder and flame, exploding into a brilliant burst. A cry tore from deep inside her and he captured it with his mouth, finding his own release only seconds later. He pulsed within her, slumping over her shoulder with a groan.

  Arms and legs entwined, they lay exhausted and sated, without saying a word, until sleep stole over them.

  * * *

  Dawn came with the gentle patter of rain on the roof. The fire snapped and popped with fresh wood and the scent of it filled the cabin. Groggily, Mariah realized that Creed's body was no longer curved around hers. Opening her eyes, she rolled over beneath the buffalo robe and reached for him, only to find him gone. She sat up.

  He stood at the window, watching the rain through the wavy panes of glass. His back was to her. He'd pulled on his Levis, but his back was bare. The early morning light washed over him, defining the smooth muscles of his powerful back and arms. Her attraction to him hit her like a rolling wave, making her body tighten all over again with desire.

  "Creed?"

  The only indication he had heard her was a slight inclination of his head, but he didn't answer.

  "Creed?" she repeated, throwing her feet over the edge of the bed. "Are you all right?"

  "Go back to sleep, Mariah."

  She unwound the nightrail from her legs and stood, wincing a little as she did. "I'm not tired."

  "You should be," he said, still looking out the window. "I kept you up last night."

  "I didn't mind. How long have you been up?"

  "A while."

  "You can't look at me this morning. Is that it?"

  Creed turned around at that. His gaze started at her bare toes and traveled up until he was looking her in the eye. "No. It's myself I'm having a little trouble with."

  Her gaze fell to the floor. "What shall we do now?"

  "Do?" Creed knew what she meant. Dammit, he knew, but he had no answer. "Nothing."

  Shock held her silent for a few moments. "Wh-what do you mean?"

  "You belong with him, Mariah. Not me."

  "You can say that after what we've done?" Her voice quavered. "Did it mean nothing to you?"

  He sighed heavily. It was a question he'd been wrestling with for hours. Solutions seemed as scarce as sunny skies. "I don't regret making love to you, Mariah. In fact, you're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. But I do regret that I've betrayed Seth... and you."

  "Me? No, you're wro—"

  "Seth trusted me with you. You trusted me to bring you to him. Now, look what I've done." He raked a hand through his sleep-tumbled hair.

  Mariah stared at him. "You've done? What about me?"

  "It was my fault. I could have stopped it."

  "I didn't want you to stop. My God, Creed, can't you see what's happening to us?"

  "I didn't mean for this to happen."

  She shook her head in confusion. "Of course not. Neither did I. But it did."

  He hated himself for what he was about to say. But there was no avoiding it. "There's no future for us. I have nothing to offer you, Mariah. You've seen what I am. What kind of a life could we have together? I'm nothing but a bounty hunter—"

  "There's only one man you're after and we both know it," she replied steadily. "He may be dead already."

  "Maybe. Maybe not. He could kill me tomorrow. Then where would you be? You're a lady, Mariah. Seth—he's the kind of man you need."

  "And you know what that is, do you? What it is I need?"

  "Better than you seem to, yes."

  She'd walked up behind him and turned him fiercely by the elbow. "Do you feel nothing for me?"

  His insides twisted. God, he wished it were true. Wished what had happened between them had been no more or less than that little shred of himself he'd shared with Desiree Lupone back at The Nightingale, but he knew it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

  A deep breath did little to ease the ache in him. He felt torn and bloody inside and he doubted he'd ever be whole again. "It doesn't matter what I feel. Seth trusted me to bring you to him. That's what I'm going to do."

  "And what," she asked defiantly, "shall I tell him on our
wedding night?"

  That stopped him cold. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought of it. What would she tell him? Should she lie? But Seth would know, just as Creed had known she'd been a maiden. Merde.

  "I'll go to him, if you want," he said at last, turning toward the fire. "I'll tell him I took advantage of you."

  "You'll what?" She stared at him as if he'd just turned into a piece of furniture.

  "I'll tell him it wasn't your fault. I... I seduced you when you were vulnerable." His gaze traced the lovely curve of her cheek and ended on her lips. "He'll believe me. Any man in his right mind would believe it."

  Her mouth tightened. "How noble of you, but it's hardly the truth."

  "Close enough."

  Not nearly close enough, she thought with a sharp pang of guilt. "No." She walked toward the fire and slumped into the robe-covered chair.

  "Why not?" he asked, pacing away from the window. "It would work. Seth would forgive you. I know he would."

  She turned to look at him, angry. "I don't know what I'll do yet, but I won't let you take the blame for this. Whether you want to believe it or not, what happened between us wasn't a seduction. It was... inevitable. And we both know it." She watched the flames blacken the underside of the river rocks that lined the fireplace. "Even if... if it meant nothing to you, it meant... something to me." It meant everything.

  Creed's heart twisted with an almost physical pain. Don't do this to me, Mariah. You're tearing me up inside.

  "Don't be a fool. Don't throw away what you have with Seth because of one night with me. It would be a terrible mistake."

  "Would it?" she asked, staring at him.

  Creed stood watching her for a long minute and finally returned to the window. "The snow is nearly gone. The rain's letting up. If we leave soon, we can be in Virginia City by tomorrow evening."

  When she didn't answer, he looked back at her. She was walking toward him, her fingers working open the buttons of her nightrail. Pop, pop, pop, they flicked open until the gentle swell of her breast appeared.