The Outlaws: Rafe

by Connie Mason

  At some point Angela wrapped her arms around Rafe's neck, and he moved closer, the pressure of his chest easing her sensitive breasts. She returned his kiss with giddy abandon and felt him harden against her thighs. Then he lifted one hard, buckskin-clad thigh between her legs and let her ride him. She would have pulled back from his kiss then but he wouldn't allow it. Her senses careened wantonly as he cradled her bottom, tilting her against his loins. He leaned into her; she drew him closer.

  Their lips fused, eased, fused again. She tasted his need and felt his heat emanating through his clothing, wave after wave, increasing in intensity, until her body turned liquid. Then she felt herself drifting downward, onto the soft surface of the bed. He followed her down.

  His kisses fell like rain over her face, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. His mouth found her nipple and he suckled her. A pounding began in her head, growing louder and louder, until she could no longer ignore it.

  "Rafe..."

  "I know. Someone is pounding on the door. Dammit! I'm beginning to think fate is conspiring against us. Don't move, I'll be right back."

  His weight shifted away from her and she shivered, suddenly chilled by his absence. "Who would come calling now?"

  "Baxter, who else could it be?"

  Cursing beneath his breath, Rafe went to the door. "Who is it?" he barked through the panel. As if he didn't know.

  "Baxter! Open up."

  Rafe unlatched the door and pulled it open. "What do you want? This better be good."

  Baxter shoved Anson Chandler forward. "I caught your friend snooping around the mine."

  "Chandler is no friend of mine," Rafe returned shortly.

  "What should I do with him?"

  "Send him packing," Rafe said.

  "Maybe what he needs to keep him from trespassing is a load of buckshot up his ass," Baxter contended.

  "Now see here," Chandler injected, obviously taking exception to Baxter's threat. "I haven't done anything wrong. You can't blame a man for wanting to protect his fiancée."

  "I'm not your fiancée, Anson Chandler," Angela charged as she sidled up beside Rafe. She was wearing a tattered robe; her feet were bare. Oddly, Rafe thought the sight of her toes peeping from beneath the robe was wildly erotic.

  "Your stepfather never gave you permission to marry anyone but me," Chandler contended.

  "That doesn't give you the right to spy on me," Angela shot back.

  "I don't understand any of this," Baxter complained. "Get the hell out of here, Chandler. If I ever see you snooping around again, I'll fill you full of buckshot. Understand?"

  Chandler shot Rafe a venomous glare before making himself scarce.

  "Just tell me one thing, Gentry," Baxter said. "Are you really married to Simon's daughter?"

  "I can show you the marriage license, if you'd like, not that it's any of your business."

  "It's my business if it affects the mine," Baxter said. "If you're Angela's legal husband, then what's hers is yours."

  "You've got that wrong, Baxter," Rafe charged as he sent a sidelong glance at Angela. "What's Angel's is Angel's. The decision to sell out to you or keep her interest in the mine is strictly hers to make. I won't interfere. Don't get me wrong. Try to intimidate Angel in any way and you'll answer to me. Good night."

  He slammed the door in Baxter's face then turned to Angela, who looked very small and lost in the oversized robe. "Where did you get the robe?"

  Angela rubbed the warn places on the arms and smiled. It belonged to my father. Mama made it for him during happier times. I found it hanging on a hook behind the door."

  He held out his hand. "Shall we continue where we left off before we were interrupted?"

  Angela hung back. "I don't think so. The...moment is gone."

  "I could bring it back."

  "It wouldn't be the same. Good night, Rafe."

  Another sleepless night, Rafe thought, chagrinned at his unaccustomed eagerness to make Angela his in more than name only. He must be crazy, or... No, that notion didn't bear considering.

  The next day Angela and Rafe were standing near the mine entrance when Rafe sensed danger. Glancing up, he saw a boulder hurtling toward them. Rafe had noticed the boulder balanced above the mine entrance the day before but thought nothing of it. It had appeared secure, as if it had been perched in that position for generations. It happened so fast that Rafe had time for one selfless act as he shoved Angela aside and fell on top of her. The boulder clipped his right thigh then rolled harmlessly away, coming to rest against a tree.

  Waves of agony contorted his features as he eased away from Angela and rolled over on his back.

  Angela took one look at his pained expression and flew to his side. "Rafe! Speak to me. Where are you hurt?"

  He flexed his leg. Though the pain was excruciating but he didn't think the bone was broken. "The boulder clipped my thigh." He stretched out his limb. "It's bruised but not broken. I'll survive."

  "You saved my life. Can you walk?"

  Baxter came running up, accompanied by a miner named Cady, Jim Cady. Idly Rafe wondered where they were when that boulder had become dislodged. "That was a close call, Gentry. Don't say I didn't warn you about the dangers that exist around a mining operation. Maybe now you'll believe me."

  "Can't you see he's in pain!" Angela all but shouted. "Help me get him inside. Be careful, his leg may be broken."

  Baxter and Cady hoisted Rafe up and carried him into the cabin. Angela directed them to the bedroom, where they carefully placed Rafe on the bed.

  "I'll check back later," Baxter said as he headed out the door.

  "Baxter, wait," Rafe called from the bed. "Where are the other miners?"

  Avoiding Rafe's gaze, Baxter said, "I let them go. I told you the mine was played out. No sense paying men when there's no work. I kept Cady on to help me shut things down for the winter."

  His brow furrowed in thought, Rafe was still staring at Baxter's departing back when Angela hurried over to him, her concern evident.

  "I'm going to have to get your trousers off."

  Rafe managed a pained grin. "I've been waiting forever to hear those words from you. Unfortunately I'm in no condition to take advantage of the fact that you want me naked."

  "You know what I mean, Rafe Gentry. I can't tend to your injury until I know what I'm treating. Can you raise your hips?"

  "As high as you want, sweetheart." His lopsided grin ended in a groan. "Be gentle."

  She wanted to smack him. Instead, she cautiously undid his belt and unbuttoned his fly. A lump formed in her throat when she saw that he wore no underwear. Neither drawers nor longjohns. Willing her hands not to shake, she eased his trousers down his hips and legs until the huge purple bruise on his lower thigh became visible.

  "Turn on your side, away from me," she instructed, trying not to look at anything but the injury.

  Rafe let out a yelp when she probed the bruise with a fingertip.

  "I don't think anything is broken. There's no bone sticking out and you seem able to move about freely. You probably should stay off your leg for a few days."

  Rafe wished Jess were here. With his doctoring skills he could tell right away if there was a hidden hairline fracture. Unfortunately he had to make do with Angel's guesswork.

  "Cold compresses ought to help," Angela said. "I'll fetch water and cloths."

  Before she departed, she discretely arranged the sheet over him so that nothing showed but his bruise. Her sensibilities assuaged, she beat a hasty retreat.

  The cold compresses seemed to help. The swelling subsided and the pain wasn't quite as severe as it had been. With the pain eased, Rafe had time to think. The boulder balanced over the mine entrance couldn't have been dislodged without help. The longer he thought about it the more convinced he became that two strong men, such as Cady and Baxter, could easily pry it from its precarious perch. It was something to consider.

  The following day Rafe tested his leg. It hurt like hell to put any
weight on it, and he still wasn't sure there wasn't a hairline fracture, but lying abed wasn't an option. He'd rather limp around than lay in bed like a useless lump. Besides, that boulder was meant to kill both him and Angel. She needed his protection.

  Nothing unforeseen happened during the following days. Rafe's limp eased, as did the pain, and he was finally able to sit his horse without undue discomfort. The first day he was pain free, he suggested to Angela that they go into town and sell the wagon that had carried her across the prairie.

  "The wagon is too cumbersome for these mountain roads," Rafe explained. "I noticed a buckboard behind the cabin, and some horses corralled nearby. The buckboard will do just fine to get you to town and back. I think you should buy a good riding horse with the proceeds from the wagon." He sent her an assessing look. "You can ride, can't you?"

  "I can ride. Your suggestion is a good one. While I'm in town I can visit Father's lawyer. Mr. Goodman should be informed of my arrival and I need to learn more about my inheritance. Are you healed enough to ride?"

  He sent her a wicked grin. "Would you care to inspect my injury?"

  "No thank you," she sniffed. "I've already seen more of you than I care to. I'll get my bonnet and meet you outside."

  Rafe watched her leave, his expression bemused. He wished things were different between them. Were he able to settle down with a woman, Angel would be his first and only choice. But circumstances beyond his control denied him the kind of life he might choose for himself. A man on the run from the law had no business messing up the life of an innocent woman like his Angel.

  The trip down Red Rock Canyon Road was every bit as harrowing as it had been going up. The prairie schooner lumbered awkwardly from side to side down the winding road, but they arrived safely in Canyon City, due primarily to Rafe's expert handling of the team.

  The hostler offered a fair price for the wagon and Angela found a chestnut mare to her liking. A trade was made and they set off for the lawyer's office. Mr. Goodman greeted them with a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

  "So you're Simon's daughter," Goodman greeted effusively.

  Age and years of experience sat heavily upon his shoulders, but his forthright gaze and confident air immediately put Angela at ease. "I had no idea you intended to visit your father's property."

  "My decision to travel West was rather sudden," Angela said. "This isn't just a visit, Mr. Goodman. I intend to make my home here. I'm staying up at the mine, in Father's cabin."

  "And who is this young man?" Goodman asked, sizing Rafe up with a critical eye.

  "I'm Rafe Gentry, sir. Angela's husband," Rafe answered.

  Goodman's eyes widened. "Simon never mentioned that his daughter was married."

  "He didn't know," Angela replied. "What can you tell me about Father's holdings?" she asked, adroitly changing the subject. "Your letter hinted that my inheritance was quite substantial."

  "There is over fifty thousand dollars in the bank in your name. All you have to do is claim it. Baxter Brady came around after Simon's death and told me the mine was played out, and that he had already notified you in writing about it. He said he offered to buy you out. I was waiting for directions from you on how to proceed."

  Clearly stunned, Angela gasped. "Father left that much?"

  Rafe was impressed, but he had other things on his mind. "Do you know for a fact that the mine is played out, Mr. Goodman?"

  "I'm no miner, Mr. Gentry. I had no reason to doubt Baxter. Do you know something I don't?"

  Rafe and Angela exchanged speaking glances. "Nothing we can prove, sir. What can you tell us about Simon Abbot's death?"

  "About as much as anyone else. His wagon went off the cliff. Baxter found him. He told the sheriff that the wagon's axle snapped, sending Simon plunging over the cliff. If it's any consolation, I made sure Simon's funeral was a grand affair. He had many friends in the area and they all came to bid him a final farewell."

  "Where is he buried?" Angela asked.

  "In the cemetery at the edge of town. It's a pleasant spot. I'm sure you'll approve."

  "Thank you for providing Father with a proper burial. Is there anything special I need to do to withdraw funds from Father's account?"

  "Just a note from me. The account is in your name as well as your father's. His will clearly stated that you were to inherit his entire estate, both funds and property. You should encounter no problems."

  "Thank you again. If you'd be so good as to write the note, I'll be on my way."

  "Of course." He dipped a pen in an inkwell and scribbled a brief note. "If there is anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask." He folded the note and handed it to her. "Please accept my congratulations on your marriage. I wish you and Mr. Gentry happiness."

  Rafe offered his hand. "Please call me Rafe."

  "Very well, Rafe. Are you a miner?"

  "No. After returning from the war, my brothers and I tried to make a success of the family farm in Kansas. Two years of drought wiped us out. Much obliged for your help, sir. We'll certainly call on you if we have need of your services."

  "Fifty thousand dollars," Angela said on a shaky sigh as they left the lawyer's office. "That's a lot of money. No wonder Anson was so determined to marry me."

  "I'm not sure either Chandler or Dexter knows about the money," Rafe mused. "They may have guessed but they had no way of knowing the exact amount your father left in your name."

  "Thank God for that. Let's go to the bank. I want to withdraw some cash for my immediate needs."

  "I realize I have no business telling you what to do, but if I were you I'd wire the assayer's office in Denver and hire an expert to come down and check out the mine. I wouldn't take Baxter's word about the condition of the mine as gospel."

  Angela beamed her approval. "That's a wonderful idea! Would you take care of it while I make myself known at the bank?"

  Rafe nodded. "I'll meet you at the bank after I've sent the telegram."

  The first thing Rafe saw when he walked into the telegraph office was the wanted poster identifying the Gentry brothers as bank robbers with a five hundred reward on each of the their heads. The picture alone would hardly identify any of the three brothers, but Rafe feared enough people in Canyon City knew his name to make sticking around dangerous.

  Glancing over at the clerk, Rafe saw that he had his back turned. Without a smidgen of guilt, Rafe ripped the picture from the wall and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he calmly walked to the counter and wrote out his telegram, signing it Angela Abbot of the Golden Angel mine. Without glancing at Rafe's face, the clerk sent it out. Rafe paid him and beat a hasty exit.

  Meanwhile, Angela made the bank president's acquaintance. They briefly discussed her inheritance, then Angela withdrew a small amount of cash. As she was walking out the door, something caught her eye. A poster on the wall featuring three men. Drawn like a moth to flame, Angela approached the poster with a feeling of dread.

  She nearly lost the ability to breathe when she recognized a very badly drawn picture of Rafe, along with his two brothers. Their names appeared in bold lettering above the words, "Wanted for bank robbery. Five hundred dollars reward for each man, dead or alive."

  Dazed, Angela staggered out of the bank.

  Who was Rafe Gentry? He had robbed a bank; could he have killed five people and robbed a stagecoach?

  Dear God! Did she even know the real Rafe Gentry?

  Chapter Six

  Rafe saw Angel leave the bank and strode over to meet her. Anxious to leave Canyon City before someone recognized him, he grasped her arm and all but pulled her toward her horse. When he placed his hands around her waist to lift her aboard, she shrugged free of his grasp and stared at him as if he were someone she didn't know.

  "Don't touch me!"

  Rafe went still. His silver gaze searched her face. She was pale and shaken, her blue eyes glazed.

  "What happened inside the bank? Did someone accost you? For godsake, Angel, talk to me!"
r />   Angela shook her head and hoisted herself onto her horse. Then she dug in her heels and took off as if the devil was nipping at her heels.

  "Angel, wait!"

  Rafe caught up with her on Red Rock Canyon Road. Grasping the reins from her hands, he brought both horses to a halt.

  "I want to know what this is all about and I want to know now."

  "As if you didn't know!" she shouted back. "This is one time my instincts failed me. You're an outlaw."

  Rafe spit out an oath. That damn wanted poster! There must have been another one posted in the bank, the Lord knows where else.

  "You told me you were innocent of any crime. But there it was, staring me in the face. You and your brothers are bank robbers. For all I know you did rob the stage and kill those people."

  Rafe heaved a weary sigh. "I'm neither a killer nor a bank robber. It was all a mistake."

  "That's what they all say. I trusted you, Rafe Gentry."

  "Let me explain."

  She pulled the reins from his hands. "What's there to explain? That poster said it all."

  She slapped the reins against the horse's rump and the chestnut bolted, carrying her upward along the narrow trail. Rafe recognized the danger the moment Angela had taken off. Had Angel not been blinded by fear and anger she would have seen the low-slung branch in her path. It was the same branch they had avoided on the way down to town.

  "Angel! Look out!"

  His shout went unheeded. Blinded by tears, Angela hit the branch full tilt and was swept from her horse. She fell hard, rolling over and over, finally coming to rest precariously close to the lip of a rocky ledge.

  Bringing his horse to a prancing halt, Rafe leapt to the ground and took off at a run. He grasped Angela's arms just as she started to slide downward. He was visibly shaken as he carried her across the road and through the trees to where the ground was relatively level. He found a grassy spot beneath some towering aspens and carefully placed her on a bed of leaves.