“Jake!” She threw open the door and ran into his arms. Fear had her shaking again and she stepped back, squaring her shoulders. She refused to let anyone frighten her like this.
“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Why the rifle shot?”
“I couldn’t think what else to do.” She moved out of the shelter of his arms. “Someone was in the house before.”
Jake took her hand and pulled her close. “How do you know?”
His dark eyes scanned the area, probing shadows she didn’t even realize were there.
“The picture of my mother is missing. I put it in the sea chest with the other things I want to take with us and now it’s not there.”
“Take with you? You’re leaving?”
She stared at him, appalled at what she’d let slip. Then anger slid in to fire her blood. “It isn’t your concern. You made that very clear this morning.”
Jake’s lips thinned, the only indication of his feelings. “We’ll discuss this later. We need to get Nathan and Calvin into the house.” He turned to signal the boys it was safe.
Nathan. Shame washed through Rachel. She hadn’t given any consideration to how her panicked firing of the rifle would affect him. “I’ll help with the horses.” She made it two steps before she was yanked around.
“You’ll go back inside. We’ll handle things out here.”
He gave her a little push toward the porch. Arguing with him seemed petty and foolish, so she did as he asked, looking around for an unknown assailant with every step.
She heard Nathan and Calvin a few minutes later, but they didn’t come inside. While they settled the horses, she gathered what they might need in case of a fight. She didn’t have any real idea, but she had to have something to do. She sliced all the remaining venison, then started on a double batch of bread. At least they’d have something to eat.
“What are you doing?”
She managed not to jump when Jake whispered in her ear, but just barely. “Make some noise next time, Ranger McCain.” She mock threatened him with the knife she had concealed in her apron pocket. “I’ve had enough surprises for today.”
The boys made up for Jake’s silence as they piled through the door and into the attic.
Jake turned back to her with a smile. It quickly faded. “You’re sure something was taken?”
“Unless Nathan removed it from the chest.”
“Nathan?” Jake strode to the base of the stairs.
“Yes, sir?” His blond head appeared at the top.
“Did you borrow the picture of your sister’s mother from the sea chest?”
“No, sir.” He came halfway down the staircase. “Isn’t it on the mantel?”
Panic ripped through Rachel all over again. She hadn’t realized how much she was hoping Nathan had taken the picture. “I put the box in the sea chest this morning, just before you came down looking for Jake.”
His forehead wrinkled as he dug up the memory back. “But you said you were just packing away the things we didn’t need right now. Spring cleaning, you said.” He came to stand in front of her. “Why would you put her picture in there?”
She glanced over his head to where Jake stood, waiting for her answer. “I was sorting out what we’ll take with us if we decide to leave Lucinda.”
Nathan considered that for a moment. “Makes sense.” He looked around the room. “Looks like you got most of it.”
Rachel stared at him. “It doesn’t upset you to leave here?”
Her brother shook his head. “I told you before, we can go wherever we need to so you can teach like you want.” He headed for the stairs. “Jake.” He paused until his hero looked at him. “The woman in that picture isn’t only Rachel’s mama. She’s mine, too.”
He ran up the stairs, unaware of the impact of his words. Rachel couldn’t move, in shock at how easily her little brother had decided to accept the truth of his birth.
The turmoil of the last few weeks came flooding back, sapping what strength she had left. With a sound of distress she couldn’t contain, Rachel sank into the rocking chair.
“Honey?” Jake sat on his heels in front of her. “What’s wrong?”
“Two weeks ago, Nathan nearly got himself killed in an abandoned gold mine because he refused to listen when I said Eleanor Hudson wasn’t his mother. Now, he accepts it without question.” She stared into his spring green eyes, seeing her reflection there. “What happened?”
Jake smiled and brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek. “Don’t ask me. I don’t think I’ll ever understand him.”
Rachel didn’t know she was crying until he wiped away a tear with his thumb. The calluses of hard work felt rough on her skin and the sensation set her body humming. Without stopping to consider the wisdom of her action, she leaned into his touch, increasing the contact. A tiny sigh of pleasure slipped out.
“Damn it, woman,”—Jake cupped her chin with his hand—“you make it hard to remember I don’t have any right to be here.”
“Jake.” She waited until he met her gaze. “I want you here. That gives you the right.”
“Pretty girl, we went through this.”
“No, you went through it. I don’t happen to agree with you.” She took her courage in both hands and leaned forward to press her lips to his. “You were wrong this morning. I don’t deserve better, I deserve the best. And that’s you, Jake McCain. I’d be the luckiest woman alive to wake up next to you every morning. But you’re part of this choice, too, and if you don’t want me, so be it. I’d rather live with you, but I’ll survive without you.”
She rose from the chair, hiding a smile at the dumbfounded look on his face. “Maybe you’d better give some thought to who might have been in my house while I finish making this bread.”
Jake recovered quickly. “Are you planning on a siege?”
“What do you mean?”
He indicated the food she was preparing. “That’s enough for the four of us to hold out for several days.”
“Is it too much? It’s just that I...”
He grinned at her, making her heart thump an uneven rhythm in her chest. “It’s okay, pretty girl. Being prepared is a good thing to be.” He pulled her into his arms for a hard kiss, and released her before she could collect her wits. “That was for luck.” He winked at her and strode from the house. “Bar the door behind me. I’ll let you know it’s me before I come close,” he called. “Shoot anyone else.”
His parting words dumped her right out of the cloud she was floating on. Remembering there might be someone watching the cabin, close enough to harm Jake, had her running after him. “Be careful,” she called through the door. “Please,” she pleaded in a whisper as she dropped the heavy bar into place. Taking the rifle with her, she returned to her chores.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Rachel filled the hours with baking and mending, then resorted to reading aloud to the boys to keep them occupied. At dinnertime, Jake returned, staying only long enough to eat. When the boys went to bed, she folded the laundry he’d brought in from the line. Sometime after midnight, her nervous energy finally gave out and she collapsed onto a bench by the table and laid her head on her folded arms.
Her sore ankle throbbed from the forced activity of the afternoon. She’d baked a dozen loaves of bread and a couple of pans of biscuits. Jake would probably tease her about cooking for an army. There were beans soaking for tomorrow’s meal. All the mending was done. She’d even scrubbed the floor, though it was a task she hated and usually avoided as long as possible. With a sign, she let exhaustion claim her.
A log shifted in the hearth, jolting her awake. Rachel looked around, groggy from her nap. She must have slept, but it couldn’t have been for long. She pushed to her feet, groaning at the stiffness in her back and legs. She took a step and nearly fell to the floor. The ankle she’d twisted in her flight from Duchess’s saddle didn’t want to hold her weight. “Well, that’s too bad,” she muttered. “I have things to do.” Gritting her teeth, she took a te
ntative step, gasping at the pain stabbing through her. It took a dozen paces, holding on to the table the whole time, but she finally felt confident she could get to the bedroom without pitching onto her face.
She considered sitting on the bed and resting for a bit before gathering her wool and combs, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get up again. “How can I be so stiff? She’s a small horse. It wasn’t that far to fall.” Forcing herself forward, she half hopped across the tiny room, scooped up the basket of goat’s wool and the tools she needed, and hobbled back to the main room.
Dropping everything beside her chair, she limped over to fetch the rifle. It needed to be close by, easy to reach. She certainly wouldn’t be able to get across the room in a hurry should she need it. It took a few more minutes to get organized, but soon the familiar sounds of carding wool whispered through the quiet house.
•♥•
Jake sat in the dark, watching the cabin. It was where he’d been for the last hour, trying to gather the courage to go in and face Rachel. “Damn it.” He cursed the night and the lack of any proof someone had been near the cabin. Mostly, he cursed himself. How did he make her see he was the wrong man for her when he no longer believed it himself?
Somewhere during the long day, he’d realized he didn’t want her to find someone else. He wanted to be the man she turned to, the one she relied upon.
“I love her,” he whispered to the stars. How the hell had that happened?
It wasn’t possible. He waited for the familiar panic, the trapped feeling he always got when he considered marriage and a family. But it never came. Instead, a warmth filled him when he pictured Rachel, heavy with his child, and guiding Nathan as he grew into a man any father would be proud of.
He must look ridiculous, sitting in the dark with a stupid grin on his face, but he didn’t care. He wanted Rachel and he would have her. What if she’d changed her mind? That gave him pause. Maybe a half-breed renegade lawman wasn’t what she wanted after all? Then he’d convince her to change her mind right back. Nothing could be as hard as facing a future without her.
He caught himself before he straightened and presented an easy target to whoever might be watching. He didn’t doubt someone was. Though he’d found no evidence, his instincts were screaming at him that Rachel was in danger. Checking the shadows, he slipped up to the house and made a complete circuit before setting foot on the porch. He came up on the far end, near the window where the candle that saved his life had burned.
“Rachel?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake the boys. “Honey, it’s me.” He leaned closer to the window, but he couldn’t hear anything inside. Was she asleep? Hoping he wasn’t destined to a night on the ground with no bedroll, he called out a third time. Finally, sounds of movement came from inside, then an uneven shuffle as she approached the window.
“Jake?”
“It’s safe, pretty girl. You can open up.”
He heard her drag the bar from the door and lower it to the floor, but the door didn’t open.
“Come inside, slowly. I have a gun and I know how it works.”
Jake grinned. He couldn’t help it. Here he was, anxious to tell the woman he wanted forever with her, and she met him at the door with a loaded rifle. It was a story they could tell their grandchildren. He opened the door with his left hand, careful to stay out of her line of fire, just in case Wolf wasn’t as good a teacher as he thought.
“Rachel, honey, I’m coming in. Put the rifle down.”
“Are you alone?”
“I’m alone, pretty girl.”
“Then come on in.”
Relief was evident in her voice. He peeked around the doorframe to be sure she knew it was him before stepping into the open.
She faced the door from across the room, the rifle cradled in her arms. It wasn’t pointing at him, but she wouldn’t have to move it far to find a target.
Jake came inside and closed the door, barring it again. When he looked back, Rachel had pointed the rifle at the far wall and was struggling to uncock it.
“Let me, honey.” Taking it from her shaking hands, he eased the hammer forward and set the gun aside. When he opened his arms, she stepped into them without a word. Hugging her close, he let the last of his resistance melt away. Whatever it took, this woman was his and he wasn’t letting her go.
“I’m sorry. I needed to be sure. You were gone so long,” she admonished without looking up. “I was worried.”
“You were safe. I wasn’t far away.”
“I wasn’t worried for me, I was scared for you.”
Jake swore he heard a muttered dammit as she turned away to the stove. He snagged her hand and pulled her back against his chest. “What did you say?”
She squirmed in his arms but didn’t answer.
“I don’t think I can have any wife of mine using language like that.” He felt her stiffen and struggled against a grin. “It wouldn’t be proper.” He glanced down and felt himself drowning in twin pools of azure. God, she had the most beautiful eyes. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Wife?” Her voice quavered on the single word.
“If you’ll have me, honey.” Jake loosened his hold and dropped to one knee in front of her. “I know I’m no prize, and you’ll probably spend the rest of your days wishing me to Hades, but I don’t think my heart will go on beating if you aren’t part of my life.” He kissed the fingers of her right hand. “Will you marry me, Rachel Hudson?”
When she tugged on his hand, he rose to his feet and waited for her answer. When a smile curved her lips, he thought his heart would stop.
“I’d be proud to be your wife, Jake McCain.”
A whoop from behind her brought them both around. Nathan raced down the stairs to throw his arms around Rachel. Calvin followed close behind. She returned her brother’s hug with tears in her eyes.
“Well,” Jake muttered, shaking his head at Nathan. “I intended to ask your permission, son, but it looks like we already have your blessing.”
A knock sounded on the door, startling them.
“Pa!” Calvin ran for the door and lifted the bar before Jake could stop him. The door banged open, knocking the boy to the floor. Wolf stood in the doorway, blood running from a gash near his temple.
Rachel cried out. “Wolf, what happened?”
“He heard your rifle shot a little too late.” A man stood behind Wolf, his face in shadow. A brawny arm shoved Wolf in the back, knocking the big man to his knees. His hands were tied behind his back. Bruises on his face told the story of the beating he’d taken. Calvin started forward, but a glance from his father had him scooting backward, out of reach.
Jake pulled Rachel behind him as the stranger stepped into the light. She peered around his broad shoulders and stared at a yellow-haired ghost.
“You’re dead,” she whispered.
Jake heard the terror in her voice as she stared into the eyes of the man who’d murdered her mother.
“Not quite,” the man sneered. He turned his evil gaze on Jake. “See, you’ve been following the wrong man, Ranger. That was my little brother, William, you’ve been chasin’. We look a lot alike, but he’s too dumb to outthink you. I’m not.”
He pointed his revolver at each person in the room in turn, counting heads, memorizing faces. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Waylon Montrose Harrison.” The gun swung to point at Jake’s chest. “And you have something that belongs to me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Waylon Montrose Harrison,” Jake repeated. “Damn. I thought the WM on the knife you dropped was short for William.”
“Well, you were wrong, Ranger. Now, drop those guns you’re wearing. Nice and slow.” When the belt hit the floor, the man smiled in triumph. “Don’t think you can get to them, Ranger.” He motioned toward Wolf with his gun. “I’ll take out both you and this one before you could feel metal under your fingertips.”
He landed a vicious kick in Wolf’
s ribs, then grabbed his hair near the gash and yanked his head back to hold him in place. The pain had to be terrible, but Wolf didn’t make a sound.
“You let him go!” Nathan yelled.
“Nathan,” Jake breathed in warning.
“Shut up, boy, unless you want to die where you’re standing. I don’t usually shoot kids—my brother prefers to take care of them—but I can always make an exception.”
Jake shifted a little to gain the man’s attention. “So…where have you been while I’ve been following your brother halfway across the territory?”
Harrison laughed. “Well, I visited El Paso a time or two, looking for her.” He glared at Rachel. “You’ve cost me way too much time, little girl. You were mine. I bought you from your mama’s skirt-man, lock, stock, and barrel. And all I got for my money was this scar.” He turned toward the light. A vicious line bisected his left cheek. “I’ve had Willy keep an eye out for you. He sent word as soon as he found you hiding in this two-bit town. You caused me a passel of trouble, bitch, and you’ve got eight years of my time to make up for.”
“I don’t buy it,” Jake interrupted, desperate to get Harrison to focus on him instead of Rachel. “Eight years without finding her? Even you can’t be that bad at tracking.”
Harrison fired a shot over Jake’s right shoulder, close enough he heard the bullet whistle when it passed.
“I coulda had her sooner, if I’d wanted. But I had other business.”
“Such as?”
Harrison made a show of remembering. “Well now, there’s a bank down San Antonio way that’s missing a vault full of money. And the Army made a couple of helpful donations to my cause.” He laughed, an ugly, grating sound. “Other than that”—he yanked on Wolf’s hair—“I’ve spent my time keeping an eye on this one, from a distance, of course.”
Jake felt Rachel ease away from him a step, then another, while Harrison was distracted. He wanted to tell her to get back behind him, but he didn’t dare draw attention to her. He needed to keep Harrison occupied. Wolf seemed to read his mind.
“Which one of you killed my wife and daughter?” he hissed. “You or your brother?”
Texas Gold Page 28
