ANNIE AND THE OUTLAW

by Sharon Sala

  Gabe cursed softly and spun away, unwilling for Davie to see his pain and anger.

  "That's good. Really good. I'm happy for you. A man needs to have a place to call home and a woman to come home to," Gabe said quietly.

  "So, what's between you and Annie, then?" Davie asked, then resisted the urge to take a quick step backward. The look Gabe gave him as he turned was anything but friendly. "And I'm not going to apologize for asking," Davie said. Instinctively he curled his fingers into fists and waited for the blow that never came.

  Gabe's anger dissipated when he saw how fiercely Davie would have defended Annie. And he knew Davie's reasons for asking were fair ones. After all, he'd known Annie all her life.

  "There's a lot between Annie and me," Gabe said. "But that's where it's going to stay … between us." He fixed Davie with a cool blue stare. "I can't help it if you don't like that answer, but it's the only one I've got to give."

  Davie shrugged. "None of my business, really," he said. "If Annie's happy, I'm happy."

  "That just about sums it up for me, too," Gabe said. "Now … about that tubing."

  Minutes later Davie dashed back inside the house, using the scent of brownies to lead him to Annie.

  "Where's Gabe?" She looked past Davie toward the open doorway.

  "I loaned him my truck to go to town. The tubing I had didn't fit."

  "Oh."

  Davie grinned and pointed toward the brownies cooling on a rack. "Do I get any of those?" he asked.

  "What happened between you two?" Annie asked, ignoring his question in favor of another.

  "Not much," Davie said, and helped himself to two brownies without waiting for her approval. "When you get to know him, I guess he's a pretty decent guy. Right?"

  Annie nodded and sat in the nearest chair with a plop, unable to mask her surprise. Would wonders never cease?

  * * *

  Thunder rippled through the hills and down the valleys, running with the storm front that was moving across the state. Lightning cracked as it tore across the skies, rocking the lamp on the bedside table and rattling the glass in the windowpanes.

  Gabe rolled over and, at the same time, reached out for Annie. The flat of his hand slid across her pillow and then down the length of the bed.

  Seconds later he was crawling out of bed in panic. She was gone! He stepped into his jeans as he walked out of the bedroom, calling Annie's name.

  The wind whipped her nightgown, molding it to her slenderness like a second skin. Annie tilted her face, catching the first raindrops as they began to fall upon the thirsty earth. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, letting her skin savor the moisture in separate, single increments. It was as if every cell in her body had come alive, dancing with the same electrical force as the lightning that threaded the skies.

  The thunder, an angry grumble of nature, rumbled overhead. Annie's toes curled against the rough-hewn boards of the porch as she felt the house quaking from its power.

  Like a daring child, she stood at the edge, just beyond the safety of the rooftop, and let the storm have its way with her. In those few moments, before the fall onslaught of the rain, she felt joyously alive … and knew no fear.

  And then she heard his voice and turned toward the sound, waiting on the edge of the steps for him to come to her. To become part of the immensity of what she was experiencing.

  "Annie! Annie? Answer me, damn it! Where are you?"

  "I'm here," she said softly, knowing that he would hear her voice and follow it with unerring instinct.

  He walked outside, intent on nothing more than rescue, when a bolt of lightning slashed through the darkness just beyond the trees and momentarily illuminated her in a glow of eerie light.

  It was then that he saw her face and knew that she was locked under the spell of the elements in which she stood.

  "What the hell are you doing to yourself?" Gabe growled as he grabbed her by the forearms and hauled her back beneath the safety of the porch.

  His hands ran rapidly up and down her body, touching testing, to assure himself that she was still in one, albeit fragile, piece. That she was not as storm-tossed as she looked.

  "Feeling the storm," she whispered. "Oh, Gabriel come feel the storm with me!"

  He couldn't tell her no.

  She took him by the hand and led him to the edge of the porch, where the wind whipped wildly beneath the overhang, digging through the thick, damp tangles of her hair. She turned to him, needing to know that he understood. That he felt what she was experiencing in the same special way. The look on his face made her knees go weak.

  The wind caught and lifted the dark, heavy length of his hair, whipping it back and forth across his face and into his eyes in stinging fury, and yet he stood unmoving, watching Annie's joy. Rain began to come down in earnest, pelting against the broad, muscled strength of his chest and belly, only to slide downward in rivulets toward the spiral of hair that began just below his navel, visible in the V of his unzipped jeans.

  Annie's eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward, fascinated by the path of the rain and its destination. She splayed her hand across his chest and watched, eyes widening with desire, as the wind-driven water hammered against her own skin, too. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, imagining that she was melting into him, becoming part of him, always with him.

  "Annie."

  Her name was a prayer as she came to him, unto him. And when her rain-slicked body moved against him, he knew he was lost.

  "Come inside," he urged, and started to move her toward the doorway.

  "No," she whispered, and pressed her mouth against the curve of his lips, letting him feel, as well as hear, her words. "You come inside. Inside me."

  Denial was impossible.

  With little loss of motion, he let the wind tear away what was left of her gown as he pulled it up above her waist. Shaky with desire, he groaned as she laughed aloud, lost in the driving need and the rain pelting down upon them. And when she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, the pleasure and the passion nearly sent him to his knees.

  Staggering backward in desperation, now buried so deeply inside the woman in his arms that he feared he might lose the way back, he felt the porch post behind him and knew a moment of thanksgiving that they wouldn't fall.

  With legs braced, he centered her once again on the hard, jutting thrust of his body, and relished the cry of delight that flew out of her mouth and into the night. With a shaky groan he took them both over the edge and into the storm, and never knew which ended first, the rain or their pleasure.

  All he remembered was struggling for breath and feeling a cool wind drying the last raindrops from. his bare back. The rest was a blur. Just a collage of lightning, power, the touch of Annie's hands, her laughter and the rain upon her face. It was only later that he thought to wonder if it had been tears, and not the rain, that he'd seen running down her cheeks.

  But it didn't matter, and it wouldn't have changed a thing. Sometime during the night, he'd taken Annie on a ride to heaven and back. Much later, as he set her in bed, he watched her curl up in weary satisfaction against his passion-spent body. Annie seemed to be at peace with herself and the world. It was Gabe who now struggled to find the sense in it all.

  Annie's life mattered so much to so many, and yet it was about to end. His had been of no consequence in the beginning, and now, no matter how long he rode and how hard he tried, he feared he would never know the peace of heart that Annie possessed.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  "Annie! Annie! You'll never guess."

  Annie looked up from the book she'd been reading and smiled at the man who burst through the front door.

  "Don't you ever knock?" she asked, and grinned at the shock that came and went on Davie's face as Gabe's arm slid off her shoulder and back into his own lap.

  "Oh … yeah … right," Davie mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by his behavior. "How ya doin
', Gabe?" It was such an obvious afterthought that Gabe laughed, catching Davie off guard.

  It was the sight of those black boots propped up on the coffee table alongside Annie's sock-covered feet that told him he might have walked in on a serious hugging-and-kissing session.

  "Am I interrupting anything?" he asked, knowing full well he probably was.

  Gabe stood up and stretched. "Just the possibility of a nap. It's too cold outside for anything else."

  Davie nodded, and then remembered why he'd come.

  "Annie! I've got great news!"

  "You won the lottery."

  "Nope!" Davie grinned and shoved his hand through his hair, ruffling the thick wheat-colored curls even more than they already were. "Guess again."

  "You're getting married."

  Davie blushed as Gabe laughed softly from across the room.

  "Well, yeah, actually I am. But that's not it, either," he said.

  "Okay, I give up," Annie said, and spread her hands in defeat "What's the big secret?"

  "The head of the history department at Walnut Shade High School just quit. There's going to be an opening next semester. What do you think about that?"

  The smile froze on her face.

  Gabe's stomach turned as he looked at Annie.

  Twice she started to speak, and both times the words wouldn't come.

  "Son of a bitch," Gabe said succinctly, and walked out of the room, unable to watch Annie's pain.

  Davie was in shock. "What? What did I say?" he asked, and touched her anxiously on the shoulder.

  Annie shrugged and tried to smile, blinking over and over in rapid succession to clear her vision of a sudden spurt of tears. "Nothing," she said, and hugged him to prove her point. "Absolutely nothing at all."

  "Then why's everyone so uptight?" he persisted. "Something made Gabe madder than hell, and I'm the only new face in the room."

  "It's complicated," she said. "But it's nothing you did, I promise."

  Davie shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Okay, okay. I get the message. I'll drop whatever it was I said … if I can figure out what it is I'm supposed to drop."

  A small niggle of pain dug into the muscles at the back of Annie's neck. She rolled her head and winced, trying to loosen the tension before it became full-blown.

  "Davie … about the job." Annie struggled to find the right words. "Thanks, but I don't think I'd be interested." The smile on her face broke. Unable to contain her misery, she turned and walked out of the room.

  "Well, I'll be damned," Davie said.

  But there was no one around to hear him, and rather than risk another outburst, he left the same way he'd come in. Unannounced.

  He was halfway up the path when he saw Gabe walking toward the creek behind the house. In seconds he'd made the decision to follow him and find out what was going on. He would get answers out of that damned biker or know the reason why.

  * * *

  Gabe hurt from the inside out. Every step he took was a step away from Annie's pain, but it didn't lessen the impact of what he'd seen in her eyes. He would have bet his life—if he'd had one left to bet—that she wanted that job, and badly.

  He knew how important teaching was to her. He'd witnessed her determination in the classroom back in Oklahoma. He'd seen her willingness to risk personal safety just to fulfill a contract, as well as her duty to the students. He'd also seen the life go out of her when they'd had to leave Oklahoma City. At the time, he hadn't understood.

  The real inner joy, the thing that kept Annie motivated, had returned only after she'd discovered Davie's handicap. It was after that that she seemed to have taken a new lease on life. Looking back, the reasons for it were so simple, so obvious. Annie was at heart a teacher. She needed to be needed.

  Even with the knowledge that Davie would be her last student, she'd still dealt with the disappointment of giving up a much-loved career. Day by day, she'd struggled with the fact that she had to let go, a little bit at a time. And she'd done it.

  But that was before Davie Henry had come barreling through the door offering something she desperately wanted, something she couldn't have. A future.

  Heavy footsteps pounded the trail behind Gabe. He turned, his fists doubling instinctively, then relaxed almost as quickly.

  It was only Davie. But when he saw the concern on the big man's face, he cursed softly to himself, sickened by the entire mess. He should have known Davie would want answers. In his place, he would have done the same.

  "Donner! I want to talk to you!" Davie shouted.

  Gabe waited for him to catch up.

  "What's the damned deal with Annie? She hardly ever leaves the house, and when she does, you're always with her. You have no job, and she expects me to understand, without any explanation, that she isn't interested in teaching. Why?"

  "What did she tell you?" Gabe asked, ignoring all of Davie's accusations except those concerning Annie.

  Davie spat angrily, then ground the moisture into the dirt with the toe of his work boot.

  "She didn't tell me a thing. She just started crying."

  "Damn. I was afraid of that." Gabe looked away, unwilling for Davie to see his pain.

  Davie grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. A long, slow minute passed while the men took each other's measure.

  Finally it was Davie who made the first move by loosening his hold on Gabe's arm. "All I want to know is, what the hell's going on," he muttered.

  "I can't tell you more than Annie wants people to know," Gabe said. "And that's all I'll tell you. If you find out more, it'll have to come from her."

  "What are you saying? What's the big secret?" Davie shouted.

  "It's not my secret to tell," Gabe said softly. "You above all others should understand that. After all, you asked Annie to keep your secret, and she did. Why do you expect me to do less for her?"

  But Davie still persisted. "What could be so bad that she doesn't want it told?" he asked.

  Gabe didn't answer. He couldn't. All he could do was turn away and try to focus on something—anything—besides the pain eating away inside him.

  "Okay." Davie said shortly. "But if I find out later that you've had anything to do with Annie's problems … anything at all … I swear I'll fight you to hell and back."

  Gabe turned. All sound unexpectedly ceased. The mockingbird that had been scolding from a tree limb took sudden flight. The squirrels that had been playing above the creek bank, jumping from limb to limb like furry acrobats, disappeared from sight. Sunlight haloed behind Gabe, making his shadow larger than life. Davie shuddered. He had a moment's impression that Gabe was not of this world, and then he scoffed at his own flight of fancy as Gabe's deep voice echoed within the silence on the creek bank.

  "There's no coming back from hell. Pick another location."

  Davie's eyebrows arched, and then he laughed abruptly. His anger was gone as quickly as it had come.

  "Damn, but you're a cool one," he said.

  Gabe shrugged. "I am what I am. Just know this. What I do, I do for Annie's best interests … always." He took a step forward until he was nearly toe-to-toe with Davie. "For as long as I'm with her, she's safe. I'll kill the next man who harms her. Know that for a fact."

  Thou Shall Not Kill!

  The celestial warning sifted through his mind, but Gabriel shrugged it off as he continued to stare long and hard into Davie Henry's eyes.

  "The next? What happened to the first?" Shock splintered the concern on Davie's face.

  "The cops got him," Gabe said shortly, aware that what he'd revealed was something about her life in Oklahoma City that Annie had obviously kept to herself.

  "Cops?"

  "Just remember what I said," Gabe warned, ignoring Davie's wild-eyed, slack-jawed expression. "No one messes with Annie. She's been hurt more than any woman should have to endure. If you want to know anything more about her business, you'll have to ask her yourself."

  Gabe turned and walked away, disa
ppearing into the thicket of trees above the small spring-fed creek, leaving Davie Henry alone with the warning still echoing in his ears.

  * * *

  For two days Annie moped around the house, no longer able to find joy in the little things as she previously had. All she could think about was Davie's news and the fact that she couldn't even consider the job. Anger and self-pity for what fate had dealt her crept back into her daily routine and held on with insidious persistence.

  Gabe found himself being rebuffed for even offering to do the smallest things for her, and he was at a loss as to how to fix what ailed Annie. But then an advertisement in a local paper gave him an idea. He began to set his plan in motion, remembering that spontaneity had worked before.

  Why not now?

  When she was busy at other tasks, he began packing a bag for what would amount to an overnight stay. Little by little, he secreted her belongings, along with his own, in the duffel bag.

  Just after dark, while she was taking a bath, he buckled it onto the back of the bike and then hurried inside. He yanked off his boots and jeans and crawled quickly into bed, excited about the prospect of what he planned. He took slow, deep breaths to calm his racing pulse, anxious that when Annie came back, she would not suspect he'd ever been gone.

  A few minutes later she came out of the bathroom, her nightgown billowing around her legs as she walked. With only a dim light in the hallway to serve as illumination, she sat down on the edge of the bed to brush her hair.

  At first glance she looked unbearably young and innocent, all white lace and long, rambunctious curls. And then she turned slightly as she struggled with the length of her hair, trying unsuccessfully to brush out the knots. The incoming light silhouetted her sensuous shape against the sheer fabric of her gown and left Gabe in no doubt as to how much of a woman Annie really was. It made him want. It made him hard.

  She lifted the hairbrush again and began to brush another swath through her hair when she came to a tangle and winced. The motion of her arms unintentionally pushed her breasts tightly against the thin, cotton fabric. Gabe's swiftly indrawn breath was the only clue to his instant desire.