The Outlaws: Rafe

by Connie Mason

  Suddenly aware of the cooling water, Angela got out of the tub, dried herself and dressed in a clean chemise, white, long-sleeved blouse that buttoned to her neck, and plain brown skirt. She'd brought nothing fancy with her, for Reverend Conrad had insisted that Sister Angela dress simply and demurely.

  Angela was pulling the comb through her unruly hair when a knock sounded on the door.

  "Who is it?"

  "Rafe, open up."

  She unbolted the door and Rafe sauntered inside, dressed in a spotless linen shirt and buckskin trousers and jacket. His face was newly shaved and his hair had been trimmed. Angela swallowed hard. He was so handsome the sight of him took her breath away.

  "Are you ready for dinner," Rafe asked.

  Angela wished she had something more colorful to wear but Rafe didn't seem to mind her somber attire as his gaze slid over her with obvious pleasure.

  "Leave your hair down," he said.

  "I didn't have time to put it up."

  "It looks good just as it is." He offered his arm. "Let's eat. I'm starved."

  The dining room was crowded but a table was found for them. Rafe ordered beefsteak and fried potatoes. Angela preferred lamb and fresh peas. Neither seemed inclined to talk as they devoured their food. Angela passed on desert, preferring just coffee, while Rafe dug into a piece of chocolate cake as tall as Pikes peak.

  "Let's stroll," Rafe suggested as they left the dining room. "It's a warm night and the moon is full.'

  Glad for the reprieve, Angela readily agreed. She wasn't looking forward to sharing a room with Rafe for an entire night.

  "What do you suppose Anson is doing now?" she asked, sending a cautious look over her shoulder.

  Even before Rafe said, "He's following us," she saw him. "I saw him in the dining room," Rafe added. "He left when we did. Ignore him."

  Angela tried. The night was so lovely, she thought as she filled her lungs with fresh mountain air. She had missed this more than she realized. If she had her way she'd spend the rest of her life in Colorado. This was her destiny.

  "What are you thinking?" Rafe asked, jarring her reverie.

  "About how much I love it here," she said truthfully. "I can't wait to see the mine again. I vaguely remember it from my childhood. I was happiest here, you know."

  Rafe reached for her. She gave a squeal of surprise as he pulled her into the shadow of a store awning and into his arms. Beguiled by the magic of the soft night and starlit sky, she melted into his embrace, forgetting everything but the feel of his mouth moving over hers and the hardness of his body. His tongue prodded urgently against her lips and she opened to him. He kissed her until her body tingled and her head spun. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss him back.

  He was panting when he broke off the kiss. He gave her a hard look, grasped her hand and dragged her back toward the hotel.

  "What are you doing?"

  His voice was gruff, impatient. "Taking you back to our room. I'd rather do this in a bed."

  His words finally got through the sensual fog drifting aimlessly in her brain. Panic-stricken, she pulled away. "I...I don't know what got into me."

  "I know what's going to get into you," Rafe growled as he pulled her roughly behind him. "Me."

  She considered digging in her heels, until she saw Chandler watching them with keen interest. Rather than raise questions in Chandler's mind about the relationship between her and Rafe, she tripped along beside Rafe. But once they were behind closed doors, she intended to tell Rafe exactly what she thought of him and his highhandedness.

  Literally dragging her to their room, Rafe closed and bolted the door behind them. His face was taut, his muscles tense. The skin was stretched snugly over his cheekbones. Angela could almost taste his desire, and it frightened her. She felt suddenly vulnerable, too attuned to this man's lust for her own good.

  Rafe said nothing as he tore off his shirt and jacket. Then he reached for her. That kiss in the street had unleashed something fierce and needy within him. He recognized desire when he felt it and Angel had definitely wanted him. Her body had softened against his and her mouth had opened to him. That was all the invitation he needed.

  "Let's get you out of those clothes," he gasped raggedly as he fumbled with the buttons holding her blouse together. "I want you naked the first time I take you."

  A jolt of reality tore through the sensual fog in Angela's brain. She didn't want the same thing Rafe wanted. After he got what he wanted from her he'd disappear and she'd never see him again. What if he gave her a baby? If she let him make love to her, she would never be able to forget him and move forward with her life. He'd always be there in the background, taunting her with memories. She couldn't bear it.

  He had her blouse off and her chemise pulled down to her waist when Angela finally found the energy to protest.

  "We can't do this, Rafe."

  "Your body tells me differently. I know when a woman is aroused. You want me as badly as I want you."

  "No...I..."

  Her words died in her throat as Rafe swept her into his arms and deposited her on the bed. He followed her down, holding her body in place with his.

  "Remember how I caressed you and kissed your breasts the other day?" he murmured against her ear. "I want to do all that and more...much more."

  His hand delved beneath her skirts. Angela felt his rough palm slide up her leg, lifting her skirts with it. He grinned up at her, then lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her until she was breathless, until dizziness made her giddy. When he finally released her mouth, she sucked in a shaky breath and murmured his name.

  "Rafe..."

  Her voice rose on a note of panic. "I can't think when you're kissing me.

  "Don't think, just feel."

  Held suspended by the wealth of feelings thrumming through her, she watched in trepidation as he untied her petticoats and pulled them down her legs, stared dumbly as he swiftly removed her remaining clothing. She had no time to contemplate her nakedness as Rafe lifted a firm breast in his hand and took her nipple into his mouth. She cried out in surprise, arching against him. His lips drifted lower, leaving a trail of fire down her body. He pressed hot kisses to her stomach. She tensed and shifted restlessly beneath his tormenting mouth. She had no idea such intense feelings were possible between men and women.

  "Angel...Angel, God you're beautiful."

  He shifted slightly. She heard the dull thud of his boots; then his trousers hit the floor. Her eyes slammed shut; she refused to look at him. But she let herself touch. Naughty though it might be, she rested her palms on his chest. She heard his breath hitch. Beneath her questing hands, muscles bunched, shifted, then set. Encouraged, her hands roamed wider, over smooth expanses of chest, tight and hard and roughened by crisp hair, then over impossibly wide shoulders.

  "You're driving me crazy," Rafe rasped hoarsely.

  Then his hand drifted between her legs and her eyes flew open. She felt the heavy weight of his sex prodding her softness and nearly swooned when his fingers opened her and caressed her most sensitive, private place. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through her. With his hand caressing her there and his mouth suckling her nipples, she felt as if her bones were melting.

  An unfamiliar pressure was building inside her as excitement intensified. Her senses focused on his wicked fingers sliding inside her, slowly moving in and out. She felt the invasion keenly, felt it clear to her soul. Then he did something with his thumb, touched a place so sensitive it sent her spinning out of control. She arched against his hand, shoving his fingers deeper, writhing against him, moaning shamelessly as pleasure rocked her.

  "That's it, Angel, let it come," Rafe whispered raggedly. "Ah, love, who would have thought you'd have so much passion inside that small body."

  Angela felt herself drifting amid the stars as tiny tremors burst inside her. Her wits returned slowly, and when they did, her gaze found Rafe. He was bending over her, watching her closely,
his silver eyes glittering with excitement.

  "Did you like that?"

  "I...what happened?"

  "You experienced sexual fulfillment for the first time. It can get better than that, Angel, much better."

  Angela's brow furrowed. She knew nothing of sexual matters. Her mother had never mentioned the things that went on in the marriage bed, and the poor woman had been too sick to explain had Angela expressed curiosity.

  "Did you feel pleasure?" Angela asked.

  "My pleasure was giving you pleasure. My satisfaction will come later, when I put myself inside you. It will be painful for you the first time for you're still a virgin, but it will get better each time we make love."

  "Make love?" She mulled that over for the space of a heartbeat, then shook her head, "But you don't love me and I don't love you."

  "Men and women don't always have sex because they love one another. They do it for gratification."

  Angela sat up abruptly and pulled a corner of the bed cover over her. "I'm not that kind of woman."

  "You liked what I did to you. We're married, for godsake!"

  "We won't be married for long. It would be improper to seek enjoyment from a marriage neither of us wanted or intends to honor. You're running from something, Rafe, and I don't think you need a wife right now."

  "How did you get so astute?" Rafe said, pushing himself to his feet."

  Angela stared at him for a suspenseful moment then averted her eyes, dazzled by the magnificence temptingly displayed before her. There wasn't an ounce of fat on Rafe's well-honed body. Sculpted muscles, narrow waist and long sturdy legs. When he turned away and pulled on his trousers, she wasn't surprised to note that his buttocks appeared as hard and unyielding as his chest. It was a sight she wouldn't forget any time soon.

  "You're absolutely right," Rafe contended. "A wife is the last thing I need. I have nothing to offer a wife. Not a nickel to my name or a roof over my head. I'll see you to the Golden Angel, then move on."

  Fully dressed now, he strode toward the door.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Obviously neither of us will get any sleep if I stay here tonight. I don't trust myself to be alone with you. Sharing a bed without...I just can't do it. I'll sleep in the stable behind the hotel." He picked up his saddlebags and threw them over his shoulder. "I'll meet you in the dining room at eight tomorrow morning."

  "Rafe. I'm sorry. Fate played a dirty trick on us. In any other scenario we would have never met, much less marry. I felt the need to save your life, that's all it amounted to. I don't want there to be any apologies when we part. If I let you make love to me, there's bound to be regrets on both our parts."

  "Speak for yourself, Angel. I have no regret about anything that passed between us. But if you're so determined to remain a virgin, I wish you joy of your empty bed tonight. Sleep well."

  His expression was shuttered, his eyes so bleak that Angela felt her heart constrict.

  "Rafe, wait!"

  He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

  "I...nothing. Never mind. I'll see you in the morning."

  The door opened and closed, then he was gone. Strangely bereft, Angela felt a lump gathering in her throat. What in the world was wrong with her? She wasn't the kind of woman to have a sexual relationship simply for the pleasure of it. She didn't know what had gotten into her. She'd allowed Rafe to kiss and caress her, to give her forbidden ecstasy. Her mother had raised her to know the difference between good and bad, but she never realized bad could feel so good.

  If she thought there was a chance for her and Rafe to have a normal marriage she'd be tempted to let him make love to her. But unfortunately she saw nothing to indicate she and Rafe had a future together. More important was the sure knowledge that if she let Rafe love her, her life would never be the same.

  Rafe found a an empty stall in the stable and bedded down. He rolled up in a saddle blanket he found in the stall and rested his head on his saddlebags. Despite his best effort, sleep eluded him. His body was sexually aroused, unsatisfied, and still pulsing. Thinking about Angel did nothing to alleviate his painful condition. Come to think of it, being as hard as stone had become a natural state since meeting his Angel.

  But she wasn't his Angel, was she? She might temporarily carry his name but that didn't make her his. Damn, he was thinking with his cock instead of his head. He had nothing to offer Angel. Not even his good name. One day she would find a wanted poster with his picture on it and think the worst. It was best he left now, before the law caught up with him. The last thing he wanted was to make more problems for Angel.

  Just when Rafe thought the night would never end, a gray dawn colored the night sky.

  They met in the dining room the next morning. After devouring a hearty breakfast, Rafe went for the wagon while Angela packed her nightclothes and few belongings in her carpetbag. Rafe was waiting for Angela at the curb when she stepped out the door and onto the sidewalk. The day was exceptionally fine. A light breeze blew down from the mountains and the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky.

  Rafe lifted Angela onto the seat and took up the reins.

  "You really don't have to come with me, you know," Angela said. "I'm sure I can find my own way to the Golden Angel."

  "The least I can do is see you safely to your destination. As you reminded me last night, you did save my life. Only an ungrateful wretch wouldn't return the favor. I know you're itching to be rid of me, and you'll get your wish soon enough."

  Angela gnawed on her bottom lip. She should have expected Rafe's sarcasm, but somehow it sounded harsh and accusatory coming from his lips.

  "Rafe. About last night. I'm sorry."

  "You already said that."

  "Then I'll say it again. I want you to understand..."

  "I do understand, Angel. More than you know. Ah, here's where we turn off to the mine. It shouldn't be far now."

  Angela's eyes glowed. "Yes! It's been a long time but I recognize the road. I traveled it often with my father."

  The wagon traveled steadily upward, wobbling from side to side over a rutted trail. Thick forests rose majestically on towering mountainsides; a canopy of dappled shadows and sunlight. In some places the track was narrow and steep, with one side falling away abruptly to nothing. Angela drank in the magnificent view featuring snow-capped mountains, dark green forests and clear blue skies, giddy with delight as memories of happy times with her father assailed her.

  "There it is!" Rafe cried, pointing to a narrow track and a sign posted beside it that read, "The Golden Angel."

  A sob caught in Angela's throat. "The sign is still there, I was with Father when he made it. He always called me his angel."

  Rafe deftly turned the horses into the road. The gaping mouth of the mine sat at the end of the narrow lane. Activity was in full swing. Rafe counted four men busily engaged in various tasks and an empty car sitting on a track leading into the bowels of the mine. From what Rafe could gather, the Golden Angel was a good-sized operation. Two sturdy cabins, built to withstand the harshest winters, stood side by side at the far end of the site, backed up against a wooded hillside. Angela stared at the larger cabin that had once been her home.

  While Rafe took in the lay of the land, a man detached himself from a group of men standing beside the cable car and ambled toward them.

  "Are you lost, mister? This is the Golden Angel mine. We don't see many strangers up here. There's nothing beyond the mine but trees and more mountain."

  "We have the right place," Rafe said as he climbed down from the wagon. "Are you Brady Baxter?"

  "I'm Baxter. How can I help you?"

  Rafe sized up Baxter in one glance. He wasn't old, perhaps a few years older than his own twenty-eight. His drab blond hair showed signs of graying at the temples and his murky brown eyes held the predatory gleam of a wolf. Big, rawboned and rangy, his narrow-lipped smile suggested a mean disposition. Rafe decided Baxter wasn't to be trusted.

  Not one to remain i
n the background, Angela stepped forward. "Mr. Baxter, I'm Angela, Simon Abbot's daughter."

  "Abbot's daughter?" Baxter repeated stupidly. "What in the hell are you doing here? Do you want more money for your share of the mine? Is that it? You didn't have to come all the way out here. We could have conducted everything by mail, or through Simon's lawyer."

  "I'm not selling, Mr. Baxter," Angela said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm here to stay."

  "Ridiculous," Baxter scoffed. "Simon told me your mother hated it here. I don't think you'll like it any better than she did."

  "You're wrong. I love the mountains. Get use to it, Mr. Baxter because I'm here to stay. Someone has to protect my interests."

  "Didn't you get my letter? The mine is played out "

  "Father never mentioned anything about the mine being played out. His last letter said it was producing just fine."

  Baxter took a threatening step forward. "Are you calling me a liar?"

  Rafe had let this go on long enough. Though he didn't want to interfere in Angel's business, it thought it high time he stepped in and set Baxter straight.

  "I think you get the picture, Baxter," he barked. "Kindly step back. If you think you can intimidate Angel, you're wrong."

  Baxter's jaw jutted pugnaciously. "Just who in the hell are you?"

  "The name's Gentry. Rafe Gentry. Angela's husband. Any other questions?"

  Baxter looked stunned. "Simon never mentioned a son-in-law."

  "He died before I could to tell him," Angela said, sending Rafe a disquieting look.

  Angela didn't know whether to thank Rafe for coming to her defense or be angry at him for the same reason. She hadn't intended to tell Baxter she was married, for once Rafe rode off into the sunset she'd have no one but herself to depend upon. Rafe wasn't doing her any favors by claiming to be her husband.

  Baxter sent Rafe a measuring look. "If you married Miss Abbot thinking you married a gold mine, you made a mistake, Gentry. I told you, the mine is no longer profitable."

  "Looks pretty busy around here to me," Rafe drawled.

  "You look more like a cowboy than a miner, Gentry. Since you aren't qualified to make an intelligent judgment, I suggest you mind your own business and leave the mining to me."