Taken by surprise, the two brutes holding her down just gaped as Rusty turned the man toward him and punched him in the nose, blood spurting out, drenching his shirt. The man attempted to get a swing at him but Rusty clipped him on the chin and continued to pound into him until he lay unconscious. One of the other men attempted to pull Rusty off, but when he turned to the man in a rage and went for his throat, the third bastard ran.
The sound of Rachel’s whimpers brought him back from the blind rage that had engulfed him. Seeing the second man slumped on the floor of the woods, along with the first one still unconscious, he stood and brushed off his pants, and attempted to gain control of his breathing.
Rachel had brought her knees up to cover herself. He walked to her and touched her shoulder. “No! Don’t touch me. Please, leave me alone.”
“Rachel, honey. It’s Rusty.”
She broke into sobs that tore him apart. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his knife. Holding her gently, he cut through the binding on her wrists. Her hands lay limp, most likely numb.
“Honey, I need to get you up. I’m going to have to touch you.” He slid one arm under her back, the other under her knees, and lifted her. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed as he carried her to the wagon. Still holding her in his arms, he climbed up on the wagon seat, resting her in his lap.
For several minutes all he did was hold her against him, the rage building once again. Besides being stripped, her face bore the marks of a beating. It took all his control to not go back and put a bullet into each of her attackers’ heads.
The best thing he could do now was to get her away from here, and into the security of her home. He shifted and she held on tighter. “Honey, we need to get you home.”
Her grip was like iron, but he had to tie his horse to the wagon so he could lead it back. “Rachel, please let me go for just a minute.”
She shook her head furiously.
“Just long enough for me to get the horse. Then I’ll take you home.”
After a minute, her hold eased and he jumped down and gathered his horse’s reins. The scant moonlight shone on her, revealing the beating to her face and her ripped dress. His jaw tightened as a knot of fury formed in his stomach. He removed his shirt and after climbing up next to her, helped her into it. He buttoned it up, and tugged her to his side.
Rachel had stopped crying, but the small whimpers continued. With his arm wrapped firmly around her, he used his left hand to hold the reins and drive the wagon home. It seemed to take forever to reach the ranch, but when they did, he stopped in front of the bunkhouse and shouted, “Mac!”
The older man appeared at the door, his ever-present cigarette dangling between his lips. “What?”
“Mrs. Stevens has had an accident. I need your help.”
Mac threw down his cigarette and stomped on it before walking up to the wagon. “What happened, is she all right?”
Not wanting to go into details, he said, “She fell out of the wagon, got bruised up. Unload everything and see to the horses, all right?” He lifted Rachel off the seat, and settled her in his arms.
“Is she hurt bad?”
“Some injuries to her face. I’ll tend to her, just get the wagon taken care of.”
“Yes, boss.” The older man lumbered away to take care of business.
“I don’t want to go home.” Rachel’s soft voice was almost lost in the sound of Rusty’s boots crunching on the pathway stones.
He glanced down at her. “You don’t want to go home?”
“No. I don’t want the children to see me.”
She’d started to cry again, so he hugged her close. “All right, honey. Just hold on. I’ll take you to my place.”
Once he got her into his parlor and lit the lamps around the room, he was stunned to see the amount of damage. Her right eye was swollen shut, and a nasty bruise was forming on her cheekbone. Her lip was split, with dried blood crusting there. Despite the July air, she gripped her body and shivered as she rocked back and forth on the sofa.
He had to get her out of her clothes and into something clean and warm. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. “You can stay the night with me. I’ll go tell Amelia you’re staying here because you got hurt in a fall. I think they’ll both be fine by themselves for the night.”
She looked at him through one swollen eye and he wanted to put his fist through the wall. Taking a deep breath, he pulled away from her. “I’ll see to the kids, then I’ll be back. It will just take a minute.”
***
Rachel twisted her fingers together as Rusty left the house. She really should go home, but with the beating she’d taken to the face, she was afraid she would terrify the children. And truth be known, she wanted someone strong to stay with her all night. Never in her entire life had she been as afraid as she’d been when she’d been dragged off into the woods.
The horror of what would have happened if Rusty had not come onto the scene caused her stomach to cramp. She had been about to be raped by three men. Her shivers increased until she felt as though she would never feel warm and safe again.
Even though merely a few minutes, it seemed as if Rusty had been gone for hours. Every creaking board, every male voice coming from the bunkhouse had her breaking into a sweat. She gripped her middle and rocked back and forth, a keening sound she barely recognized coming from deep inside her.
Her head jerked up as the front door swung open. Rusty strode in, his demeanor stiff and angry. One look at him, his strength, his caring, the anxiety in his eyes, made her burst into sobs once again.
He sat on the sofa and pulled her into his arms. After a few minutes of rubbing her back and murmuring unintelligible words in her ear, her strained muscles began to relax. It didn’t matter what he said. The sound of his voice, warm and soothing, did a lot to calm her down.
“Are Will and Amelia all right?”
“Yes. Will was already asleep and I told Amelia you were injured in a fall and would stay the night with me. She assured me she could take good care of Will.”
Rachel nodded and wiped her nose on the sleeve of Rusty’s shirt. “Oh, sorry.”
“That’s all right. I think we should get you cleaned up and into bed.” He stood and released her legs. She was able to stand, but only with him holding her tightly around the waist.
“I need a bath. I feel so dirty.”
“I’ll pull the tub into the kitchen and fill it up. That will give you some privacy.”
Using a large pot, he filled the tub with warm water, thankful the house had indoor plumbing. He took a new bar of soap and cloth from the closet and set them on a small stool next to the tub. When he entered the living room, Rachel still sat curled up on the sofa. The hunted animal look in her eyes tore him up.
“Come on, honey. The bath is ready.” With his arm around her shoulders, he led her to the kitchen. “Can you undress yourself?”
“Yes. But I want this dressed burned.”
“I’ll fetch one of my clean shirts for you to wear until I can get you another dress. I don’t think I should go back to your house for one now. We don’t want to take a chance on waking Will.”
“No! I don’t want Will to see me like this.”
“He won’t, honey. Just get undressed and climb into the tub. You’ll feel better.” He left her, softly closing the door.
Rachel eased out of Rusty’s shirt, inhaling the comforting smell coming from the clean cotton. Her eyes filled once more when she noted the front of her dress torn apart. Tears leaked down her bruised face as she removed all her clothes, tossing them into a pile to be thrown away.
All the muscles in her body hurt as she eased into the tub. The warm water felt wonderful as she sat down and leaned her head against the high metal rim. More tears ran down her cheeks. She scrubbed her skin until it was raw, but still didn’t feel clean. She dunked her head under the water, then lathered her hair and dunked again.
“Honey, are you finish
ed?”
“Yes.” She tried to stand and her foot slid out from under her, jarring her entire body as she landed on her backside, water sloshing out of the tub.
“What happened? Are you all right?”
Rachel covered her face with her hands and sobbed. What was the matter with her? She was never so weepy before. The door to the kitchen opened slowly, and Rusty stuck his head through. “Do you need help?”
She shook her head and wiped tears from her face, wincing where her fingers touched the bruise on her cheek. And cried harder.
Rusty moved into the room and held out a towel. “Here, stand up, if you can, and I’ll wrap the towel around you.”
“I can’t,” she wailed.
“Can’t what?”
“Stand. When I do my knees feel like this water, and won’t hold me.”
Rusty handed her the towel. “Keep that out of the water.” Then he moved behind her, slid his hands under her arms, and lifted. Aware that he was able to stare at her bare bottom, Rachel quickly wrapped the towel around her, wincing as her muscles cried in protest from the movement.
“All set?” Rusty’s voice sounded strained.
“Yes.”
***
Rusty steadied Rachel as she climbed from the tub, the towel wrapped firmly around her body. The body he had just gotten a fine glimpse of. Her bottom was rounded and plump, the perfect place for a man to hold onto as he rode her. Since he was several inches taller, he’d also gotten a look at her breasts, firm and high. With fingertip bruises on her delicate flesh where the monsters who tried to rape her had put their filthy hands.
He pulled his thoughts back to where they should have been. Not on her beautiful body, but on the fact that she’d almost been raped not more than a couple of hours ago. Rachel had suffered fear, indignities, injuries—and here he was, ogling her coming out of the bathtub.
Rein it in, buddy. She needs strength and security right now, not some randy cowboy hoping to get what those bastards tried to take from her by force.
Rachel stood shivering, seeming uncertain what to do next. “Honey, why don’t you sit here on this chair, finish drying yourself off, and then put on this shirt? I’ll wait for you in the parlor.”
She nodded, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. God, how she affected him. He was torn between finding those bastards and finishing them off, or holding her in his arms. No doubt she needed holding more than anything else right now.
Shoving his hands into his back pockets, he wandered to the window. There were still lights on in the bunkhouse, but it appeared the wagon had been unloaded and put away for the night. Most likely the men were engaged in a late night card game. In the window, he saw the reflection of Rachel as she padded into the room.
He turned, his heart filling as he took in his shirt that hung down almost to her knees. She looked so lost, so vulnerable. He walked to her and held out his hand. “Come here, honey.”
Like an obedient child, she took his hand. The bruise on her face had turned an ugly black and blue. How he wished he had finished off the men who dared to put their hands on her. “I’ll get you a cold cloth to put on your eye. It might help the swelling.”
“All right.”
“I also have some pain powder I can mix up for you. The doc gave it to me when I bruised my ribs last year after getting stomped on by an ornery horse.”
“Oh, that must have hurt.”
“Yeah, it did at that.” He led her to the sofa and sat her down, placing a pillow behind her. “I’ll be right back.”
He fished out the powder and mixed it up. Then he pulled a clean cloth from a drawer and soaked it in cold water. When he entered the parlor, Rachel sat at the end of the sofa, her knees drawn up, the shirt pulled down to her toes. She looked no older than Amelia, and just as scared.
After drinking the pain medication and placing the cloth over her face, Rachel leaned back and yawned. “I’m so tired.”
Without a word, Rusty scooped her up and headed to the bedroom. He placed her on the mattress and brushed the hair off her forehead. “Sleep. That’s the best thing for you right now.”
He turned to leave as Rachel cried out, reaching for him. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll just be in the parlor. I’ll sleep on the sofa, but you can call me anytime you want.”
She eased up on one elbow. “No. I don’t want to be alone. Please?”
Good Lord, this would be torture. Her long, slender legs mesmerized him as she shifted over on the bed. “Please. Stay with me.”
“Honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” How in hell was he to climb onto that bed and spend the night next to this woman who made him think of all the wicked things he’d like to do to her? Her scent, her soft body, those lips he wanted to plunder—
One lone tear tracked down her cheek, and he was lost. Even if he had to recite Bible verses all night, he could not leave her. She needed him, and he would do what was necessary.
“All right.” He pulled off his boots and socks and settled in alongside her. She curled into him, her delicate hand on his chest. Not having a choice, he slid his arm around her, pulling her even closer. She rested her head on his shoulder and took a deep breath. He didn’t think he would breathe all night.
The cloth slipped from her face, so he gently removed it and flung it across the room. Her soft snores told him she was already asleep. He leaned back to look down at her. She looked so peaceful in slumber. He moved her damp hair from her face and ran his fingers down her soft cheek. Holding her snug in his arms felt incredibly right.
Yet it was all so very wrong.
Chapter Six
Rachel awoke with every muscle in her body screaming in pain. She gently touched her eye and winced. But more frightening was how she was nestled next to Rusty as if they had every right to lie in bed together. They were both curled up on their sides like a couple of spoons in a drawer. He had his arm wrapped snugly around her waist, a bare few inches from her breast. His warm, soft breath teased the hair at her nape, causing shivers to race down her back.
Her mind flashed back to the previous evening and the horror of what had almost happened. And what had happened. Thank God for Rusty. If he hadn’t arrived she would have been raped and possibly murdered. Her breathing sped up as flashes of the attack raced through her mind.
“Are you all right?” She jerked at Rusty’s gruff morning voice, a jolt of panic rising through her.
“Yes.” She licked her dry lips. “I’m a bit sore, but . . . all right.” She turned onto her back, and Rusty released his hold on her. She edged away, putting distance between them until she felt her back hit the wall. “Why are you in bed with me?”
His deep green eyes studied her for a moment, something there she couldn’t quite identify. He scrubbed his hands down his face and said, “You fell asleep in my arms. I sat in the chair for a while, but you began to thrash around, crying out in your sleep. You settled down once I held you again.”
Heat rose to her face at the image of him climbing into bed to comfort her in the dark hours of the night. The intimacy of the vision made her heart speed up, and her nipples to stiffen and tingle. This was not good. Nothing could come of these feelings. She was not the sort of woman to carry on with a man for pure pleasure, and she was definitely not in the market for another husband. Although, had she been, Rusty had all the necessary parts. That thought brought another flush to her already heated skin.
“Honey, you sure look like you took a beating.” He gingerly touched her eye. “Your eye isn’t swollen anymore, but it’s really black and blue.”
“What am I going to tell Will and Amelia?” There was no way she would let the children know what had happened to her. The ugliness of life was better kept from them. They had all their adult years to come to grips with how cruel some people could be.
“The same thing I told them and Mac last night. You fell out of the wagon and bruised your eye.” He paused to brush the hair from her fo
rehead. “I think you should go into town and report what happened.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I had a friend years ago who reported a rape and when all was said and done she came out looking like a harlot. They turned it around that it was her idea and the ‘poor man,’ as they called him, was unjustly accused. No. I won’t do that.”
Rachel moved to get up and fell back down. “Oh, dang, I’m sore. How am I going to work?”
“You’re not going to work.”
She raised her eyebrows. “So the men will go hungry all day?”
“No. Mac can take over for a day or two. And I think Amelia could be quite a help to him. You, sweetheart, will stay in bed for a couple of days.”
She bristled and her brows climbed higher at his high-handedness. “I know you’re the foreman, but to my recollection, the foreman was not the cook’s boss.”
His lips moved in that lazy smile that set her body to thrumming again. “As the foreman, it’s my job to make sure the ranch runs well. One of those responsibilities is to see the men are fed. You, darlin’, are in no shape to cook proper meals.”
When had she granted him permission to call her by honey, darlin’, and sweetheart? It seemed he believed his rescue gave him familiar rights. Or perhaps it was them spending the night together in the same bed. Once more, heat rose to her cheeks.
As much as she hated to allow Rusty to win one over on her, she knew he was right. It would be impossible for her to cook three meals today with how she felt. “Since breakfast should have already been started, you need to—”
“Ma? Where are you?” Will’s voice had Rusty jumping from the bed, his eyes quickly roaming over himself, patting himself down.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure everything is covered.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Why wouldn’t everything be covered?”
“Just making sure, darlin’.”
Well, that certainly wasn’t comforting. Then remembering what her face looked like, she pulled the sheet up over her head. “I don’t want Will to see me.”
A Chance to Love Again Page 5
