Defiant

by Smith, Bobbi

  “If I use your bedroll, where will you sleep?”

  “I’ll sleep in the chair.” Clint assured her. He got his bedroll and spread it out for her. “You’re all set.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel made her way over to him.

  “Good night,” Clint bade her. He was tempted to take her in his arms again, but he feared he would never let her go if he did. He started to move away.

  But Rachel stopped him. She reached out and touched his arm, and when he turned back, she drew him down to her for a kiss.

  Clint had been trying to deny himself, but her kiss was all the invitation he needed. His lips moved possessively over hers in a devouring exchange that left them both breathless and hungry for more—much more. Lifting her into his arms, he laid her upon the bedroll and then followed her down, covering her body with his. They kissed again and were caught up in the fire of their need. His lips left hers and trailed a fiery path down her neck.

  Rachel arched instinctively against the lean, hard heat of him as desire coursed through her. She’d never known such intimacy or such passion.

  “Kane—” she whispered as she caressed the powerful width of his back and shoulders.

  Clint was caught up in the excitement of Rachel’s kiss and touch. Only when she whispered “Kane” did reality return, and suddenly he realized how close he’d come to losing control. He kissed her one last time, deeply, hungrily, then moved away from her. He knew if he wanted to keep his sanity, he had to put distance between them.

  “Good night,” he said, his tone gruff as he fought down his desire for her. She was tempting, but he knew they could go no further. In fact, they had already gone too far for his peace of mind. He stood up and went over to the window to look out one last time.

  Rachel stared after Kane, wanting to go to him, but knowing he’d done the right thing by moving away.

  “Good night,” she said softly. Covering herself with the blanket, she sought what little comfort she could find there on the floor. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she knew it would be long in coming—if it came at all.

  Clint stood at the window, watching the storm for a while longer, then went to sit down. He wanted to rest, but dark thoughts of his real reason for being there intruded. After the poker hands he’d dealt himself that night, he hoped his luck would change for the better before the Tucker Gang showed up.

  Clint hoped, too, that Captain Meyers knew something about Sheriff Reynolds. He was going to ride back to the next town in a few days and see if there was any response to the telegram he’d sent his former captain. He had an uneasy feeling about the lawman and knew it was best to check him out. He didn’t want anything or anybody to interfere with what he had to do.

  Nothing was going to stop him.

  Nothing.

  Again the sound of distant thunder rumbled across the land. It sounded as if the storm was moving off now, and that was good. At first light they would head for town.

  Clint wondered how Rachel’s parents would react when they found out he’d been forced to spend the night with their daughter. He grimaced at the thought and put it from him. That was the least of his problems. He was closing in on Tuck and Ax. They should be showing up any day now, and once they did, it wouldn’t be long before he found the real leader of the gang.

  He was looking forward to that day.

  It was what he was living for.

  Nothing else mattered.

  Clint closed his eyes, but sleep did not come.

  Rachel lay staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. Until now, she hadn’t realized how tired she was. It had been a long, eventful day. First the rushed trip to help the Franklins, then the storm and the wrecked buggy, and finally being rescued by Kane.

  A feeling of warmth crept over her, and she turned on her side to study him where he sat in the chair across the room. In the darkness, silhouetted against what little light was coming through the window, Kane looked very much the loner. But, loner though he might be, he was still the man who’d saved her at the Last Chance and rescued her from the storm. Not to mention, he’d taught her how to play poker.

  That thought alone left her smiling into the night. Rachel didn’t know what the future held, but she would always have the memory of this night alone with him—and how she’d won almost every game.

  Chapter Twelve

  Martin Hammond spent a restless night. The storm that had passed through had been violent. He wouldn’t be surprised if a twister or two had come out of it, and he had no doubt there was some wind damage around town.

  Martin was up at first light. Though the storm had passed, he was still uneasy and on edge. He almost felt as if something was wrong, but he didn’t know why. He believed Anne and Rachel had wisely chosen to stay at the Franklin ranch overnight rather than risk trying to make it back to town before the storm broke. He was certain they would be returning some time that morning with news of how Mrs. Franklin and the newborns were doing.

  After offering up his morning prayers in hopes they would calm his uneasiness, Martin set about making himself breakfast. He was just about to sit down at the table with his scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee when he heard someone come running up outside calling his name.

  “Reverend Hammond!”

  Martin hurried out on the porch to find it was Bill Clark, the owner of the stable in town.

  “What is it, Bill? What’s wrong?”

  “Plenty!” the stable owner answered worriedly. “Your horse just came back—”

  “My horse?” He frowned in confusion.

  “The one I hitched up for Anne and Rachel yesterday.”

  “What!” Now Martin was shocked.

  “I just found him. He came running into the yard down at the stable. He’s real scared. He’s still got the harness on, but there was no buggy!”

  “No buggy—dear God! Rachel and Anne are in trouble!” Martin panicked. “Saddle me up a horse, Bill, and see if anyone else wants to ride with me. If there’s been an accident, we might need a buckboard.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Bill offered. “I’ll be waiting for you down at the stable.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Bill hurried off.

  Martin rushed to close up the house. All the uneasy feelings he’d been having now made sense. Anne and Rachel must have been in a wreck on the trip back home last night. They could both have been injured—or worse.

  Martin refused to let his thoughts explore the terrible possibilities. He rushed through town to the stable, and on his way he saw the havoc the storm had wreaked on Dry Springs. Several trees were down, and some folks were already out, making repairs to roofs and shutters that had been damaged. When Martin reached the stable, he found Bill ready to ride out.

  “Where’s the horse?” he asked Bill.

  “In the corral,” Bill answered.

  Martin went to check Buster over, and he could see by the animal’s condition that he’d been out all night in the storm, for he was still spooked and edgy.

  “I wonder what could have happened to them?” Martin worried as he mounted up.

  “It’s hard to say. Maybe they decided to wait it out somewhere along the way and the horse ran off.” Bill tried to think positively as he took up the reins of the team hitched to the buckboard, but, in truth, a horse showing up this way usually meant trouble.

  “I pray you’re right,” Martin said, silently offering up a prayer for his family’s safety.

  “So do I.”

  The two men said no more as they rode out of town.

  Clint was awake as the eastern horizon grew lighter. The old wooden chair he’d passed the night in definitely hadn’t been made for comfort, but even if he’d had a clean bed, he doubted he would have gotten any rest. His thoughts had been too troubled.

  Looking over at where Rachel lay sleeping, he felt a stirring of emotion deep within him. Last night in the storm, he’d found excitement and pleasure in her arms. She was beautiful an
d passionate and innocent—and she’d just spent the whole night alone with him in this cabin.

  Clint knew they’d really had no choice. It was a new day now, and what was done was done, but the time they’d spent together unchaperoned didn’t bode well for her reputation.

  She was the preacher’s daughter.

  Clint frowned. He was troubled by the thought of what she might face back in town. He feared her reputation would be ruined even though nothing had really happened between them and he wondered how he could make amends. There was no doubt what his mother would have expected him to do.

  With the thought of his mother, memories returned, and with the memories came the cold, driving fury that was his motivation now.

  He had come to Dry Springs to find the Tucker Gang.

  He was going to finish what he’d started.

  Tearing his gaze away from Rachel, Clint got up and went outside to check on his horse. The sooner he got Rachel safely back to Dry Springs, the better—for both of them.

  As he saddled Shadow, Clint found himself wondering if any of the Tucker Gang had shown up in town while he’d been away. He hoped they had, for the waiting was getting to him. Once they showed up, it would be just a matter of playing his cards right to work his way into the gang and learn who their real leader was.

  When Clint realized he’d thought of dealing with the outlaws in terms of gambling, he grimaced. After the luck he’d had last night playing poker with Rachel, he knew he should probably give up gambling on anything for a while.

  Clint knew it was time to see if Rachel was stirring yet. With daylight upon them, there was not a moment to lose.

  Rachel had come awake to find it was morning and she was alone in the cabin. She was surprised that she’d actually fallen asleep. She’d been so excited by all that had happened, she hadn’t expected to get any rest at all. She lay there quietly for a moment, thinking of the night just past. The memory of Kane’s kiss and touch still had the power to leave her breathless. It had been thrilling to be in his embrace. She would have been happy to stay in his arms forever. This morning she understood far more clearly the meaning of temptation.

  Rachel smiled at the thought of the lessons she’d learned the past night. She’d learned that being in Kane’s embrace was ecstasy, and she’d learned how to play poker—and win. She would always treasure the time they’d had together and what they’d shared, but she understood just how easily some people might be lured into a way of life that would ultimately bring them nothing but heartache and pain.

  Getting up, she went to the window and saw Kane leading his horse around front. A tingle of excitement went through her at the sight of him—so tall and powerful. He moved with an easy male grace that left her mesmerized as she watched him. Rachel wanted to rush outside and throw herself in his arms and never let him go. She began to tremble in anticipation of being close to him again, and the thought came to her—

  I love him.

  Rachel was stunned by the revelation. Did she love him? She barely knew him, and yet there was no denying the power of her emotions. She did love him. She smiled and started toward the door as Kane came in.

  Clint was surprised to find Rachel up when he walked in.

  “Good morning,” he greeted her with an easy smile. His gaze went over her, and he thought her even more lovely this morning, though he didn’t know how that could be possible.

  “Yes, it is,” she agreed. “It isn’t raining.”

  “The sky is clear, but there’s been some storm damage. Several trees are down here, so I don’t know what we’ll find as we get closer to town. Are you about ready to ride out?” He wanted to get her back home as early as possible.

  “Yes,” she said as she crossed the room to stand before him. “But there is one thing—”

  “What?”

  Rachel reached up and linked her arms around his neck, drawing him down to her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and then she kissed him.

  Clint allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure of her kiss for a moment, but as the heat stirred within him, he knew he had to break it off. They were going to be riding together on the same mount, and it wouldn’t be easy to ignore her, pressed against him as she would be. With great regret, he ended the kiss and put some distance between them.

  “Rachel, I don’t know what you’re thanking me for, but there’s something I need to say, too.”

  “What?” She looked up at him, wondering what he meant.

  “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

  “You’re sorry for what?” Rachel was confused.

  “We should have returned to town last night when the storm ended.”

  “But why? We talked about it. We both knew how dangerous it might be if there was flooding, and you just said there are trees down nearby. We did the right thing staying here,” she insisted.

  “I know, but I’m worried about your reputation. We did spend the night alone together.”

  “I’m the preacher’s daughter. Nobody’s going to think bad things about me. You saved me from the storm after my buggy was wrecked. That’s what happened, and that’s what matters.”

  “But what about your parents?”

  “They’ll believe me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  “Then we’d better get going.”

  They gathered up their few possessions and rode out.

  Martin and Bill were keeping careful watch as they traveled the road to the Franklin ranch. The storm’s devastation on the countryside was evident, and with each passing mile Martin’s concern for his family grew. In his heart, he prayed unceasingly that he would find his wife and daughter unharmed.

  “What could have happened to them?” Martin worried aloud. “It just doesn’t make sense for the horse to come back to town unhitched that way.”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll find them. Don’t you worry about that.”

  They came around a curve in the road, and it was then that they spotted the wrecked buggy.

  “Oh, my God!” Martin cried out as he spurred his horse to a run, leaving Bill to follow in the buckboard.

  When he reached the wreck, he threw himself off his horse. Dread filled him as he ran toward the buggy. Were his wife and daughter there, injured or dead in the wreckage?

  The relief that filled Martin was great as he reached the broken vehicle and discovered no sign of Anne or Rachel. He offered up a quick prayer of thanks to God that they weren’t dead, and then immediately realized his worries weren’t over.

  “They’re not here!” he shouted to Bill as the other man reined in nearby.

  “Then where could they be?” Bill asked, coming to look things over with him.

  Martin lifted his troubled gaze to stare around the landscape. A sick, worried feeling haunted him. “I wish I knew. As bad as the storm was, if they were abandoned out here all alone . . .”

  “There are no homes nearby that they could have reached on foot in the midst of that storm.”

  “The nearest ranch is the Miller place, and that’s at least three miles south of here.”

  “Isn’t that old abandoned Harris place still standing?”

  Martin was thoughtful. “I’m not sure, but it’s worth taking a look. They might have been able to get there on foot.”

  Bill climbed back on the buckboard and Martin mounted up, ready to check out the abandoned cabin. They’d just started to ride when Bill noticed a horse with two riders coming over the hill.

  “Martin! Look!”

  Martin couldn’t believe his eyes. Even from this distance, he recognized his daughter. “It’s Rachel!”

  Clint had just crested the hill when he spotted the horseman and a man driving a buckboard near the wrecked buggy.

  “There’s your father,” he told her.

  “It is!” She was delighted. She knew her father must have been worried sick about her, but the fact that they’d found each other no
w made everything all right.

  Clint urged his horse on, and they rode down to meet her father and the buckboard.

  The minute Clint reined in, Rachel slipped down from where she’d been riding behind him and ran to her father, who’d also dismounted.

  “Thank heaven, you’re here and you’re all right!” Martin said, hugging her to his heart. “I’ve been so worried about you. When Bill told me the horse had come back without you—”

  “I know—it’s been an ordeal. The weather was so terrible last night—”

  “Where’s your mother?” Martin asked, looking around but seeing only Kane McCullough with her.

  “She’s still out at the Franklin ranch. They needed her help, so she decided to stay a few extra days. I was on my way home last night to let you know when the storm came up and the horse panicked and took off.”

  “Were you thrown from the buggy?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “It was scary, but I wasn’t really hurt.”

  “Thank heaven.”

  “Kane showed up a short time later and rescued me just as the weather started to get really bad.”

  Martin looked up at the man who’d saved his daughter from almost certain harm. “Thank you, Mr. McCullough.”

  “I was glad to help—and you can call me Kane.”

  “All right, Kane. I appreciate everything you’ve done for my daughter.”

  Rachel asked, “How are things in town? We were afraid there might be a tornado last night.”

  “I didn’t see a tornado, but there might have been one,” Bill put in. “Something bad hit Fred Garvey’s place. I saw him in town real early this morning, and he said he’d lost the roof on his house, and his whole barn.”

  “It was a bad storm, that’s for sure, but you’re safe. That’s all that matters.” Martin was smiling at Rachel. “So how were things out at the Franklin place this morning? Is everyone all right? How’d they manage to weather the storm?”

  Rachel realized at that moment that her father thought Kane had taken her back to the ranch after he’d found her, and she knew she had to tell him the truth. “I don’t know how they are today. Kane and I couldn’t get back there after the buggy was wrecked. The weather was too violent. We ended up spending the night at the old Harris place.”