Texas Rain

by Jodi Thomas

  "I have to go," she whispered, feeling as though she might faint with pure pleasure. "It's very late."

  He leaned away and straightened as if surprised at how quickly he'd lost control.

  He brushed her shoulder as he lowered his hand from her hair. "I'll get my boots and coat and walk you back to your place."

  Lowering close to her ear, he whispered, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

  She couldn't help but smile. He had lost control, maybe for the first time in his life. "No, Travis, you didn't hurt me."

  He hesitated, as if wanting to touch her, but knowing he should follow her wishes. Despite his passion, he was not the kind of man to force a woman into anything.

  "There may be little chance of my being tricked by Snort or Whiny, but there is a good chance of you getting into trouble before you reach home."

  "I can take care of myself. I don't need…" She started to argue further, then remembered the high laundry window. Nodding once, she followed him into the drawing room. He sat on the corner of the cot and pulled on boots that came almost to his knee.

  She whispered at his side, "Doesn't this place have a bedroom?"

  He pointed with a nod. "Sage is in there. There's another one through that door, but Duck likes to sleep by the fire. I think he must have been cold for a long time, because he loves being close to it. I don't want him to wake and be alone, so I had a cot moved in here. All the things Sage bought almost take up the spare bedroom anyway. Once she gets the dresses from the three sisters who live at your place, I'll be lucky to get it all home in one wagon."

  Rainey leaned against him as he pulled on his boot, hardly aware that she was touching him. "Are those specially made boots?"

  "You bet. Teagen and I both have a pair a year made by a man who can get them to fit like gloves. Tobin prefers moccasins, but I've grown used to the boots."

  She leaned closer to his ear. "The girls were talking about your boots. They think you must be rich to have them."

  Travis laughed. "No, just comfortable."

  He straightened and she almost fell into his lap. His arm circled her waist, catching her and pulling her close. For a moment he stared at her as if surprised she was in his arms so easily.

  She panicked, not intending to be so close to him again.

  Awkwardly he pulled her against him, holding her.

  She shoved at his chest.

  "It's all right, Rainey, you're safe."

  She realized he was saying the same words he'd said to the boy. "I don't need your…" She stopped hearing her own lie.

  He didn't turn loose of her, but she no longer struggled and he held her tight. For long minutes he just held her, giving her the hug she'd said she never had.

  Rainey let one tear fall and drop onto his shirt. Her breathing slowed and she felt surrounded by his warmth. It had been so long since she'd felt safe, truly safe. He offered what her father never had, but it was too late, she decided. She'd been cold too long for any fire to warm her.

  After a while he whispered, "You all right?"

  She pulled an inch away. "I'm fine, but I'm not a child. You don't have to protect me, Travis. Or give me hugs."

  He smiled down at her. "It wasn't you," he said. "It was me. I've wanted to hold you all day long. For some reason I find it very hard to keep from touching you." He watched her as if expecting her to say something.

  Rainey stood and was thankful he didn't try to keep her from doing so. "You can walk me back, Travis, but only as a friend. I'm not ready for more. I'm not sure I will ever be." She felt she had to admit more. "It's not you. I think you are a wonderful man. It's me." She didn't turn around to see his eyes. She didn't want to know how her words probably hurt him. How could she begin to tell him that she had to believe in herself before she could believe in anyone else?

  "Because of your criminal past?" he asked from behind her.

  "No," she answered. She couldn't tell him that she'd run away to prove something not only to her father, but to herself. She had to know that she could stand on her own. Rainey wasn't sure she could ever be happy living and depending on a man. She'd seen her mother too unhappy. She'd seen her waste away believing herself worthless. Rainey never wanted to feel that way again. "We need to say goodbye." She waited a moment and added, "I'm not the right kind of woman a man like you should have."

  "If that is the way you want it, I'll not argue tonight." He tugged on his coat, picked up his cane. He seemed angry, as if he heard more in her words than she'd said. "There is a door off the hall that will take us to the garden." His voice was cold, totally in control. "I'll open Sage's door in case Duck wakes."

  They walked side by side, not touching into the cold night air. Though he used his cane, his steps were faster than before, making her almost run to catch up. They were back to the alley entrance in minutes. He took her hand as they moved through the alley, but there was only purpose in his touch, no gentleness.

  When they stood at the open window, he reached to help her in, but she stepped back. She didn't want it to end like this, with him cold to her. He had a right to know that she was stepping out of his life because of her needs, not her feelings toward him.

  "What is it?" he asked, as if in a hurry to leave.

  "I don't want it to end like this between us."

  "Right. You just want it to end." He almost mumbled the last words. "I'm not your kind."

  She could see his outline. He looked as granite hard as he had that first night they met and the cowhands confronted him about being a stranger. There was so much she wanted to say, she feared that if she started talking she'd never stop. He probably didn't want to know how dull her life had been or how unloved she'd been. Or, worse, how willing she'd been to accept it all until the very last.

  She moved back in place and felt his hands circle her waist, ready to lift her up.

  "One last thing, Rainey, if that even is your name," he whispered against her ear. "Why'd you come to warn me if you're not attracted to me? Why'd you kiss me back on the capital steps and again in the hallway tonight? Were you just playing me like the barmaids plan to?"

  She turned, but couldn't see his face. "I am attracted to you. How dare you think of me as a liar."

  He laughed, hard and unbelieving. "I should have known you'd play it to the end. You'd think I'd learn."

  Rainey had no idea what he was talking about, but she didn't like the idea that he thought she'd somehow used him and lied to him. "I didn't kiss you for any reason than because I wanted to, you idiot. In truth, I had no idea how wonderful a kiss could be until you, and I thank you for that memory."

  "Stop lying to me," he hissed.

  Before Rainey thought, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

  For a moment, the sound echoed off the walls of the alley, then the silence smothered every sound except that of her breathing.

  She didn't know what to say. She had too much pride to apologize and too little bravery to tell him the full story. Straightening, she prepared for him to hit her. Her father would have hit her mother-she'd seen it a hundred times when she was growing up. Her mother would make the wrong move, say the wrong thing. Her father would glance around to make sure no one from the school saw, then he'd double up his fist and with one blow knock her to the floor. He'd learned over the years never to hit his wife in the face, but when he'd finish, he'd step over her and mumble, "Silly woman," as he left.

  Rainey waited. There was nowhere to run. She had to stand her ground even knowing that one blow from this man, a foot taller than her father, might kill her.

  He didn't raise his hand to his face, or to her. He just stood very still. Finally he said. "What are you waiting for? Go."

  She fought to keep her voice from shaking. "I'm waiting for you to hit me. I'll not cower or say I'm sorry."

  His hand moved and she braced for the blow, but he only rubbed his cheek. "I guess I deserved that slap. You can't help the way you feel. Lots of folks are afraid of my
Apache blood. But, no matter what you say, I have no intention of ever hitting you or any woman."

  "I should probably even be the one saying I'm sorry. I guessed, since we'd never talked about it, that my blood didn't matter to you. After all, you were at our ranch. You must have seen my father's tartan and my mother's wedding beads in the great room. You knew they came from two worlds." He laughed. "Which pretty much makes me belong in neither."

  Suddenly Rainey understood why he'd called her a liar. He truly thought she wasn't attracted to him. "I've never given one thought to your blood, Travis. Of course I knew the story of your parents. The only thing I've ever thought about was. that you were the only one lucky enough to get your mother's brown eyes."

  She wished she could see him. It all seemed clear now, his awkwardness around her. He was afraid she'd reject him. And she had rejected him, but it had nothing to do with him.

  "The reason I have to say goodbye to you is mine, not yours," she tried. "But believe me, I'll always remember your kiss."

  "So, the attraction was there." He sounded doubtful. "I didn't imagine it."

  "It was there," she whispered. "It still is."

  "Then there is only one way for us to say goodbye."

  He leaned forward and lifted her off her feet. For a moment, he held her up, then lowered her mouth slowly to his lips. She knew this was the way they had to say goodbye. The only way that would be right. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed against him.

  At first he offered a gentle kiss that warmed her insides. Then, as she kissed him back, he shifted his stance and leaned her against the wall, pressing his body like a warm blanket over her. The kiss deepened.

  She felt like she was melting in his embrace. He wasn't demanding but offering her a pleasure she never knew existed. The gentleness surprised her, and like a slow moving current, she floated with it.

  She could feel his heart pounding against her as his chest pressed her breasts. With each breath he seemed to be caressing them with his slight movement. She heard herself moan, and then his tongue slid into her mouth, exploring, tasting.

  When she broke the kiss to breathe, she held on to him not wanting him to move. But he did. He kissed her throat. While his body pressed against her, his hand tugged at her tattered shirt, pulling several buttons free. Now her throat and neck were open to him all the way down to where her camisole rose with the swell of her breasts.

  He leaned back for a moment. "I wish I could see you," he whispered. He touched the tiny bag tied to a string around her throat. "I wish I knew what treasure you keep in this."

  Before she could think to answer, his mouth lowered to her again, this time hungry and demanding. Her mind circled from the flood of senses. She could feel the roughness of his cheek against hers, the desire in the depth of his kiss, the need in both their bodies to be closer.

  His hands moved over her, branding her with his touch as he memorized the feel of her body. The kiss deepened suddenly with a hunger that rocked her senses, and to her surprise, she answered back in kind.

  When he broke the kiss again, his hands circled her waist and lifted her quickly into the window. "Go," he said.

  "And don't come to my room again unless you plan to spend some time in my bed."

  She wanted to cry, to hold him back, to make him say something gentle and not sharp to her before he left.

  But he was gone, vanishing into the night with one step. She stood at the window for a long while letting the night air blow against her open shirt. She didn't feel the cold. All she felt was a longing for a man she knew she had to see again.

  Part of her was splitting in two. Her need to be free. Her need for him.

  This time he'd been the one who ran, not her.

  CHAPTER 23

  Travis walked slowly back toward his rooms at the Baileys'. He needed time to cool down. He'd never felt such a need for a woman-no, not a woman-Rainey. If he'd stayed any longer, he would have made love to her right there in the alley.

  He laughed. Maybe he had it backward. Maybe she would have taken him, for she was definitely doing her part. What they did couldn't be called a good-night kiss. What he'd felt was a mating. A mating that would leave a hunger in him for the rest of his life.

  He knew now for a fact what he'd sensed from the first. She belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. It didn't matter if they were together or not, she was and would always be his match.

  Judging by what she said, she'd made it plain she didn't want to see him again. But that last kiss had made all her talk a lie. She wanted him, needed him the same way he needed her, but she didn't want to love him. She didn't want marriage and forever, and he knew he'd never settle for something less with her.

  He looked around. The saloons were closed, the cafes hadn't opened yet. It was sometime after two. The only place he knew of where people would be awake was the Ranger office. If any bad guys slept in jail tonight, some Ranger would be keeping an eye on them, and there he'd find company.

  Ten minutes later when he opened the door, Mike looked up at him from the desk and smiled.

  "Come in," Mike almost shouted. "It's so quite around here I was starting to get spooked. All we got are drunks tonight, and they're no fun when they start to sober up."

  "You here again?" Travis raised an eyebrow. "Don't they let you go home anymore, kid?"

  Mike shrugged. "I played poker with Roy yesterday and he won the night off. Come to think of it, every time I play cards with Roy, I end up pulling his night duty."

  Travis laughed. "He has to win, kid. He's got two wives to keep happy."

  Mike leaned closer as Travis took the seat across the desk. "You really think that's true? About the two wives and all those children."

  "I know it's true. I'm met them both."

  Mike shook his head. "Why do you think a man would do that, saddle himself with two women? I'm not even sure I could handle one."

  Travis poured a cup of coffee, then stared at it. "Maybe it's true love. If it can happen once, maybe it can happen twice." He sloshed his coffee around in the cup. "How many days has this pot been warming on the stove?"

  "Not long. I just forgot to dump out the grounds from the last pot. It's all right if you drink it through your teeth."

  Travis frowned before he realized Mike was kidding.

  A prisoner from just beyond the open door leading to the cells yelled for them to call it a night. "I need my beauty sleep before my hanging tomorrow." The man sounded like he'd had far too much to drink.

  Travis pointed toward the cell and lowered his voice. "We got a hanging tomorrow?"

  Mike shook his head. "No, I just told him that if he threw up in that cell, I'd see him hang." The kid shrugged. "I may have gone a little overboard with the threats, since he believed me, but I sure do hate cleaning that place up after Dillon lets the drunks go come morning."

  Travis laughed, remembering his early years when he'd been the lowest-ranked Ranger and had to do the jobs no one else wanted. "What you got planned for your life after you've served your time as a Ranger?" He leaned back in his chair, knowing the one question would help pass the night.

  Mike stood and made a new pot of coffee as he talked. "I've never given it much thought. I guess I always figured I'd die in the line of duty. My family's all gone. There'll be no one crying over my grave." He smiled. "I guess if I had one wish, it'd be to have some pretty girl miss me when I'm dead, but that ain't likely. Roy has time to find two wives, and I don't even know an unmarried girl that don't charge by the hour."

  "You're better off," Travis answered, thinking of Rainey. "The more I'm around them, the more I think I'll never understand them. Take my sister, she's got this crazy idea that one day she'll just bump into a man and fall in love."

  "Is that how it works?"

  "Hell if I know. The last one I bumped into stole my horse."

  Both men laughed. The drunk yelled again. They lowered their voices and decided to play cards for who would buy bre
akfast. The night passed with good company and bad coffee.

  At dawn Travis silently slipped back into the drawing room. Duck was still sound asleep by the fire. He sat down on his bunk and pulled one boot off when the door to Sage's room opened.

  "Oh, good," she whispered. "You're up."

  He slowly put the one boot back on and stood, trying to look like he'd just woke. "I couldn't sleep," he answered honestly.

  "Me, either. I'm picking up my new dresses from the sisters this morning."

  Travis thought if such a thing ever kept him awake, he'd shoot himself, but he tried to focus as he gave up the hope he'd had of sleeping a few minutes before he had to meet Mike and buy breakfast.

  Sage tidied up the room, something she always did when she couldn't sit still. Her long braid swished back and forth as she circled. "Mrs. Bailey won't be up for another hour to cook breakfast. I feel trapped in here. If we were home we'd all be having coffee by now. What is it about these people in town who start their day by the clock and not the sun?"

  Duck sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked so tiny in his big white nightshirt. Thank goodness he no longer woke frightened and crying.

  Sage tossed Travis the boy's clothes. "Your turn."

  Duck saw the clothes and came fully awake and ready to run.

  Travis laughed. "I'll buy you a cup of coffee at the bakery if you'll help me catch him."

  Sage nodded and circled behind the boy. Together they fought their way through dressing him in no time. When they finished, Travis brushed down Duck's hair with his hand.

  Duck smiled up at him and Travis wondered if all this battle over clothes wasn't a game to the boy. He offered his hand. "Want to go have a cookie?"

  Duck climbed into Travis's arms.

  "He can't have a cookie."

  "I'm sure the bakery has one," Travis answered. "We can't feed him breakfast or Mrs. Bailey will get mad at us."

  "You spoil him."

  Travis laughed as he opened the private exit from their wing of the house. "And you don't? You're the one who taught him that his pockets were for carrying cookies. Half the time when I pick up his clothes at night, crumbs tumble out."