Texas Gold

by Tracy Garrett

  “Jake?”

  “Hold on, darlin’, and let me give you the sun.”

  He moved faster, lifting her with him until neither was aware of who or where they were. With one last stroke, he flung himself into thin air, with Rachel right behind him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rachel understood why birds loved to fly. She floated on the cloud of pleasure Jake had made, unwilling to land. She wanted to soar like this forever, but reality intruded, and the landing was painful.

  He’d believed them. After all she’d told him, Jake had still believed the lies about her. The shocked look on his face, the disbelief... She closed her eyes against the pain. It was so wonderful, felt so right, that she’d followed willingly where he led. Fool!

  Jake shifted to one side and gathered her close, pulling a blanket over them. She wanted to hold on to the beauty he’d given her, but it was fading, being washed away by tears she couldn’t hold back.

  “Shh, honey, don’t cry. I’m—”

  “Don’t! Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” She whispered when she really wanted to scream. She needed to get away, outside, where she could rail against the world and no one would hear. But Jake wouldn’t let go. She shoved at his hands, but he only held on tighter.

  “I was only going to apologize for hurting you.”

  “You didn’t. Only a little. Now, let me go.”

  “Are you all right?”

  She surprised herself by laughing. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, but it wasn’t the sob she felt clogging her throat. Jake laid his forehead against hers. His breath teased her lips. She could feel the cold track of tears on her cheek. “You believed what they said.”

  “That’s not true.”

  She wanted to believe the hurt in his eyes was more than sympathy.

  “The look on your face when you discovered Nathan really is my brother said you did.”

  “I never thought you were a prostitute, just not inexperienced.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, though, does it?”

  “Don’t.” His voice went flat and dangerous.

  Rachel held very still, waiting for him to continue.

  “Don’t turn what we shared into something dirty.”

  “What you gave me was beautiful, but it doesn’t change the fact that now I’m exactly what they said I was.”

  His arms tightened and he kissed away a tear. She struggled to be free, but he pulled her closer, breathed a kiss into her palm and laid her hand over his heart. The steady rhythm somehow comforted her.

  “You are not a prostitute. A working girl takes money for what she does.”

  She glanced up at him. “In the eyes of this town, all that food you had delivered was the same.”

  “I was only replacing what I’d eaten,” he protested. “You didn’t have much to spare, as it was.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Not to them.”

  He smoothed a hand through her hair. “Then why did you let me stay tonight?”

  Rachel looked away and watched the flame on the candle dance. “Because...” She hesitated, not sure she wanted to admit the reason out loud. But Jake deserved an answer. She was as much responsible for her predicament as he. “I didn’t want to be alone. And I...I wanted to be with you.”

  Jake turned her face toward him with a gentle hand on her cheek. “I hoped that was the case, ’cause I wanted the same thing.”

  “But you can’t. I mean, we mustn’t...” She drew in a breath and released it on a huff. “What will I do now? They’ll never let me teach here again. I can’t spin enough yarn to support myself and Nathan, even if they would purchase it. And I won’t take any more of your charity.”

  “It isn’t charity to let a man pay his way.”

  Rachel shoved him away and rose before remembering she was naked. She turned her back and grabbed her drawers from the pile of clothing near the stairs. She had one foot in before she saw blood on her legs. Without warning the room tilted.

  She knew she was going to fall, but she couldn’t stop herself. She barely heard Jake’s curse through the buzzing in her ears. She tried to step back, but got tangled in the cotton around her ankles. Only Jake’s arm around her waist saved her from a tumble that would probably have broken her neck.

  “Easy, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”

  She registered the warmth of Jake’s skin a second before he laid her on the bed and covered her with blankets.

  “Jake?”

  “Hush. Just take deep breaths, honey. That’s it. Take another one. Good girl.”

  Finally, the buzzing subsided, and Rachel opened her eyes. Jake’s worried face hovered close to hers and his big hand stroked her hair. “Hello, Ranger McCain. Did you know I can’t stand the sight of blood?” She tried to smile at her little joke as the darkness sucked her under.

  Jake nearly panicked when Rachel’s eyes rolled back in her head. “Honey? Rachel!” He wanted to shout at her, but it wouldn’t help matters if Nathan woke and found them together, naked. With an effort, he swallowed his fear and made sure she was still breathing. The warm column of air against his fingers made him dizzy with relief. He started to his feet, but hesitated, uncertain if he should leave her alone. She needed water, and maybe some whiskey, and he had to clean her up before she awoke, or she’d just pass out all over again.

  Slipping on his pants, he padded downstairs, careful not to wake Nathan. The boy was rolled on his side with his back to the room. Jake paused long enough to check for fever and tuck the blankets around him. A strange feeling of tenderness rose in him. He was coming to care for this boy, and for the woman who’d raised him. What was he going to do when the time came to leave? He’d never felt tied to anyone other than the woman who’d raised him. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure how he was going to say good-bye.

  Jake added a log to the fire and poked at it until it flared and the wood caught. He was glad to find the bucket on the hearth was half full of water. It wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t cold, either. He tucked several clean cloths under his arm, filled a glass from the bucket of cold water by the sink and turned to carry everything upstairs.

  Rachel was awake and watching for him as he climbed into the attic. The lamplight glinted in her eyes, making them look like hammered gold instead of the amazing blue he knew them to be. He crossed to her. “I was hoping you’d still be—”

  “Unconscious?”

  “Resting,” he corrected. When he reached for the blankets to uncover her, she stopped him.

  “I can manage.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t want you fainting on me again.” He slipped an arm under her shoulders and lifted her from the pillow as he pressed the glass of water to her lips. “Drink.” After she complied, he eased her back to the mattress.

  “Now, just lie back and let me take care of you.” Ignoring her protests, he wet a cloth in the warm water and began cleaning the blood from her skin. He kept his touch as gentle as possible, but every sound she made reminded him how big and rough his hands were. He gritted his teeth and finished as quickly as he could. “I’m done. I won’t hurt you anymore.”

  “You didn’t hurt me.”

  Jake dared to look at her face and the desire he saw there stunned him. When she reached for him, he went willingly.

  •♥•

  “This is how I want to wake up every morning, wrapped in your arms.” Jake shifted and she snuggled closer. “I can’t wait to see our children.”

  “There won’t be any.”

  “What?”

  He brushed calloused fingers along her jaw, evading her lips when she tried to kiss them. “There will never be a family. I won’t marry you. I can’t.”

  For a second, she couldn’t breathe. “Are you...married?”

  “No!”

  “Then why—”

  He kept talking. “No decent woman should be tied to a man like me. You deserve better.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re a fine man, Jake McCain.”


  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “No.”

  Jake stared at her, pain and loss and fury warring in his eyes. Then he bolted from the bed and yanked his pants on. The silence was deafening. He didn’t bother to button his shirt. She wanted to ask again, but he didn’t give her a chance. He carried his boots down the stairs and out the door. Rachel wasn’t even sure he’d grabbed his coat.

  She gave him thirty seconds before throwing off the covers. He wasn’t going to ride away without giving her some answers. She pulled on her clothes and crept down the stairs. Nathan was lying on his back, one arm flung over his head. She paused long enough to tuck it back under the covers and to brush his hair from his eyes before grabbing her cloak and slipping out of the cabin. It was still dark, the stars a glittering blanket overhead. Looking around, she spied a light flickering from the lean-to. Jake was currying Griffin when she stepped inside.

  “Why?”

  His silence only made it worse.

  “Jake, please help me understand.”

  He looked at her, just looked, his green eyes cloudy and troubled. But he didn’t say a word.

  “Before you came, I had work that made me happy and brought in enough to support Nathan. Now, the children will never come back to school. How am I going to feed my brother?”

  “I’ll take care of you.”

  “No! You’ve done that once already and look at the trouble it caused. Because of you, I’ve lost not only my teaching position, but my innocence. I’ve become what I never wanted to be, what my mother died trying to save me from becoming.”

  “Don’t say that,” he gritted. “You aren’t like your mother.”

  “I am. I gave myself to you in return for a pantry full of food. The only difference is the manner of payment!” Her chest heaved with each angry breath she drew. She’d lost everything for one night of wonder in the arms of a man who didn’t want her.

  Jake grabbed her arm when she whirled to leave.

  “Let me go!”

  “Not until you listen to me.”

  “Now you want to talk?”

  She realized he was going to kiss her a heartbeat before his lips crushed hers. She meant to struggle, intended to fight him, but she couldn’t. The taste of him, the warmth, stole her will. Instead of pushing him away, she wrapped her arms around his lean waist and kissed him back.

  Jake ended the kiss as abruptly as he’d begun it. He kissed her again, a gentle meeting of lips that left her wanting more.

  “Don’t think of yourself that way,” he whispered. “Please.” He pulled her close and pressed his cheek to her hair. “What we did last night, what we shared, was special. I know it, even if you don’t. I’m sorry for what I took from you, but I wouldn’t give back our night together even if I could.”

  Her anger drained away, leaving her more tired than she ever remembered feeling. “But you don’t want me.”

  “Pretty girl, I want you with every breath I take. But I can’t marry you.”

  Rachel leaned back far enough to look into his eyes, willing him to explain.

  “My father was an English scholar. A fool who wandered around the territory looking for adventure, he said. Trouble would be closer to right. To hear him tell it, my mother was the most beautiful woman God had ever seen fit to put on the earth. He said he saw her bathing in the river one morning and was smitten. What the hell kind of word is that? Smitten.”

  Jake stroked her hair once more before setting her away from him. He retrieved the currycomb from the straw and resumed grooming Griffin.

  “She said he came out of the woods and walked right into the water, fully clothed. He talked the whole time, though she had no idea what he was saying. When she tried to leave him behind, he followed her to her village, thinking he was unseen in the trees. He believed that right up until the moment he was surrounded by fifteen women, all holding knives.”

  Jake smiled at the memory. “He was stripped and bound and dragged into the middle of the camp. Most of the braves were off on a hunt, so the old men held council to decide his fate. My mother was given the choice to stake him out for the wolves or to bury him alive. She chose to leave with him instead.”

  He set the comb aside and took up a heavy brush. For a while he was silent. “She gave up everything to be with him but never seemed to regret it. I came along less than a year later. I grew up in two worlds. She taught me the ways of her people. My father taught me his language and customs. But we never belonged anywhere.”

  “She was an Indian.” Rachel had suspected it the first night, when she’d seen his bronze skin and straight black hair.

  “Apache.”

  His big hands tightened on the brush until Rachel expected it to snap.

  “I’m a half-breed, honey, unfit for white society and unwanted by my mother’s people. And since my parents never got around to marrying in a church, I’m a bastard, too. Twice cursed. I’m only tolerated now and then because of the job I do. You deserve better in a husband.”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “You should.”

  “Why? What can these people possibly do to me now?”

  “It isn’t just these people. You would be snubbed, looked at with contempt, spit on...and worse.”

  “Just because your mother was Apache? I refuse to believe that.”

  “Believe me. I’ve lived it, and I won’t let you go through that.”

  “Let me? Jake McCain, I’m not a child. I make my own decisions.”

  “Not this time.”

  He laid the brush aside with great care. She suspected he’d rather have thrown it against the lean-to wall. With only a few movements he had Griffin saddled. When he led the horse out into the dawn, she knew he was leaving.

  She tried and failed to keep the hurt from her voice. “How could you just ride away and leave me to deal with the people of this town?” Tears burned again.

  “They won’t hurt you. I’ll see that you have enough supplies to get by until—”

  “No, you’ve done enough damage already. By now, they know you were here last night. If you send more gifts, I’ll never be able to convince them that we didn’t... That I’m not...” Her voice broke and tears stung her eyes. She fought not to let them show. “We don’t need your help. I’ll explain it to Nathan. Just go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She and Jake turned to face Nathan. He stood in the doorway in his stocking feet, resting against the jamb.

  “Ranger McCain has to leave.” She walked away from Jake and climbed the steps to the porch. “You’d better say good-bye. I doubt we’ll see him again.”

  Rachel slipped past Nathan into the cabin. She crossed the floor and climbed the stairs, not stopping until she stood over the bed they’d shared. How could she have been such a fool? To think a man like Jake would want the daughter of a whore for a wife.

  She yanked the bedding from the mattress and rolled it into a ball. Nathan mustn’t see it. She’d have to boil it to remove the evidence of her stupidity.

  “Sis?”

  Rachel started. “I’ll be down in a minute, Nathan.” She took one last look around. This was where she lost her innocence. And where she gave away her heart.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jake rode Griffin hard, ignoring the voices in his head shouting at him to slow down. He pushed up the rocky hills and around boulders, trying to outrun the memory of Rachel’s face. Griffin finally stumbled, jolting Jake out of his thoughts. He sat up in the saddle and the horse slowed.

  “Sorry, boy. It’s not your fault I’m a fool.”

  He turned toward a small creek that cut through the landscape. When they reached it, Jake dropped the reins and swung out of the saddle. He dug a few pieces of jerky from his saddlebag, then slapped the horse on the rump and let him wander, knowing a whistle would bring him back.

  Fool! He berated himself all the way to a large boulder where he drop
ped to the dirt to eat his breakfast. It was a far cry from what Rachel would make for Nathan. Memories crowded in, of the first morning with Rachel and her delight as she licked up stray threads of sweet honey. The morning sun glinted off the thin ribbon of water, just like the candlelight had shone in her hair last night. His body tightened.

  Damn. He had to stop thinking about her. Nothing could come of it. He’d been sure she was experienced, and he was wrong. But he couldn’t change that. He wouldn’t give back what she’d shared with him in that tiny bed. His shaft hardened to the point of pain, but he ignored it. He hadn’t forced her. His adoptive father’s words echoed in his mind. You stay away from the innocent until you choose a wife, son, the woman you want to be with until the day you die. The lesson had been drilled into him from the time he was old enough to know that part of him had more than one use.

  But what did he do when he couldn’t keep the one he chose?

  Jake pushed to his feet, more tired than he could ever remember being. Whistling for Griffin, he walked along the watercourse, staring at the ground, not really seeing anything.

  He’d taken Rachel’s innocence and left her without looking back. It wasn’t right. He should marry her. She was his responsibility now. But if he married her, he’d destroy her. She wanted to be a teacher, but no one would allow the wife of a half-breed to come near their children. She had to see that.

  At least he could give her justice and some peace of mind, when he made certain the man who murdered her mother was hanged for the crime.

  Harrison.

  As Rachel described her attacker, Jake realized she was talking about William Harrison, the leader of the gang Jake was chasing, the man who’d taken such delight in using his ring-sporting fist to pound him to a bloody pulp before leaving him to die in a blizzard.

  Jake wandered another thirty paces, lost in his thoughts, before the tracks in the mud registered. Thoughts of marriage and children, justice and revenge, vanished as he recognized the print from one of the horses’ left rear shoe. Duchess, his stolen packhorse. He’d put the nick there on purpose. She had a habit of wandering off and the mark made it easier to track her when he was riding where other horses had been. Now, it showed the way to the ones he was chasing.