The Outlaws: Rafe

by Connie Mason

  She buried her face in his neck. "I only wanted to help," came her muffled reply.

  "Have you ever fired a gun in the dark?"

  "Well, no, but, I know how to shoot."

  He raised his eyes heavenward. "Then I have a lot to be grateful for. Come on, let's find your clothing and get the hell out of here. His friends may come looking for him."

  "Is he dead? I was so frightened. I couldn't see who held the knife."

  "He's dead," Rafe intoned dryly.

  He wasn't going to tell Angel just how close the outcome had been. He could feel the blood from the Indian's knife dampening his shirt color. The shallow cut that slashed downward from the corner of his right eye to his earlobe wasn't life-threatening but it was bleeding profusely. He was grateful Angel hadn't seen it for he knew she would make too much of it.

  Angela sat on a rock and pulled on her boots while Rafe gathered her clothing. Then they started back to the campsite. They had gone but a short distance when Rafe noticed that Angela was limping.

  "Did you hurt yourself?" She shook her head. "Why are you limping?"

  "I...it's nothing."

  Suddenly it dawned on Rafe that Angel had walked to the campsite and back again in her bare feet. Not an easy feat even with boots on. Stones, roots, twigs and briars crunched beneath his booted feet; she could have hurt herself badly. Without giving her a chance to protest, he swept her off her feet and into his arms.

  "Wh...what are you doing?" Angela sputtered.

  "How badly are you injured? Your poor feet must have taken a terrible beating."

  "I'm fine. You're the one who battled an Indian to the death." She touched his face. Her fingers came away wet. She stared at her hand for the space of a heartbeat, then let out a cry of dismay. "You're hurt!"

  "It's nothing. There's salve in my saddlebags. I'll rub some on the soles of your feet before we leave. It's too dangerous to remain here now. The Indian's friends will have missed him by now and come looking for him. When they find him dead, they'll come for us."

  "What about your face?"

  "It's fine. The bleeding has almost stopped."

  They reached the campsite; Rafe sat Angela on tree stump. "Stay put while I get the salve."

  He returned moments later, pulled off her boots and carefully spread the soothing mixture on the soles of her feet. When he finished, he said, "I'll put out the fire and pack up our things."

  "I can help."

  He sounded almost angry as he proceeded to stomp out the remaining embers of the fire. "I'll do it. When are you going to learn to obey orders?

  "When you learn to stop giving them," Angel shot back.

  In deliberate defiance of his orders, she hobbled over to her saddlebags and began stuffing her soiled clothing in one of the pockets. Rafe merely grit his teeth and said nothing as he quickly saddled the horses.

  He should have known his Angel wouldn't listen to him. Returning to the riverbank when he'd told her to remain at the campsite could have spelled disastrous for her. Had the Indian seen her he might have used her as a shield and dragged her away. Had that happened Rafe couldn't have done a damn thing about it. Just thinking about the danger in which Angel had placed herself gave him the shivers.

  In no time at all Rafe had finished the chores and was ready to leave. He helped Angela to mount, then handed her the reins. "I don't suppose you're anxious to leave my company with Indians lurking nearby," he said as he leapt into his saddle. "I'll lead the way."

  "Where are we going?"

  "As far away from here as we can get. We'll probably have to travel all night to lose them. It will slow us up some but it's a helluva lot healthier."

  They continued in a southeasterly direction until the sun rose over the plains, bathing them in brilliant shards of light. Rafe knew Angel had to be exhausted for he was all but done in himself. He glanced back at Angel and saw her totter sideways in the saddle. Holding his horse back until they were apace, he reached out and swung her before him in his saddle. He smiled when she sighed and snuggled against him. Nothing in his life had ever felt so right. Then he grasped her horse's reins and plodded onward.

  A short time later Rafe spied an unusual rock formation that looked as if it might provide the protection he sought. The place appeared to be garden of rocks, all leaning haphazardly against one another.

  He guided the horses deep within the bowels of the towering stones, satisfied with his choice when he realized how secluded it was. There was a scant trickle of water seeping from between two rocks and Rafe decided it was all they needed since both their canteens were full.

  Holding Angela upright in the saddle, he carefully dismounted. Then he placed her on the ground while he spread out their bedrolls. He'd thought they should eat first, but Angel was so soundly asleep he decided food could wait. Rest was more important.

  He spread out the bedrolls and placed Angela carefully atop hers. Then he pulled off her boots and inspected her feet. His expression turned grim when he saw the torn and bruised flesh. He retrieved the salve in his saddlebags and spread another layer over the injured area. Then he covered her with a blanket and lay down beside her. His arms curled around her and he pulled her into the curve of his body.

  The sun was sinking below the distant mountains when Angela awakened hours later. She sat up and glanced around, having no idea where she was or how she had gotten here. She stretched and was immediately sorry. Every bone in her body ached. She searched her brain for answers but the last thing she remembered was following behind Rafe for what seemed like an eternity. She remembered darkness, then light, and after that she recalled little else. Her stomach gave a loud rumble and she realized she was famished.

  Glancing at Rafe, she saw that he was still sleeping soundly. He was turned away from her, only the left side of his face visible. His brow was smooth, as if he hadn't a care in the world, and the dark lashes that lay against his cheek were indecently long and lush. Abruptly he turned, exposing the right side of his face. A startled cry burst from her throat when she saw the bloody streak angling downward from the corner of his eye to his earlobe.

  The sound must have startled Rafe awake for he leaped to his feet and reached for his gun. "What is it? Have the Indians discovered our hiding place?"

  "Your face! What did he do to you?"

  "Oh, that," Rafe said, shrugging. "It's nothing serious."

  "You'll have that scar for life. Let me take care of it for you."

  "Don't fuss, Angel. I can handle it. Right now there are more important things to take care of. My stomach is touching my backbone. I'll fix us something to eat."

  "Where are we?"

  "Hidden well within a formation of rocks. It was the best I could do under the circumstances. You couldn't have ridden much farther. Sit still while I get us something to eat. It will have to be trail food, I don't think a fire is safe yet."

  "Let me help," Angela said, rising. She soon learned that attempting to stand was a big mistake. The soles of her feet were too tender to bear her weight. She gave a pained groan and fell back onto her rump.

  "I told you to sit still," Rafe said, clearly exasperated. "One day you'll learn to do as I say."

  "I doubt that," Angela sniffed. "Wet a cloth and bring it here so I can clean the blood from your face. I refuse to eat until I see to your injury."

  Rafe glared at her a moment, then shrugged. "Very well."

  He found a washcloth in his saddlebags and saturated it with water from his canteen. Then he handed it to Angela and sat down beside her. "Do your worst, woman."

  Angela carefully dabbed at the cut, washing away blood and dirt. When she finished she leaned back and studied her handiwork. Though the cut wasn't deep it would definitely leave a scar, Angela thought. But rather than detract from his handsome features, it added a sense of mystery to his rugged appeal.

  "Do you have something I can put on it to aid the healing?" she asked.

  "How about some of the same salve I put on y
our feet?" Rafe asked. Angela nodded. "I'll get it," he said, rising.

  "I should put a stitch or two in it before I apply the salve," Angela said when Rafe returned.

  He reared back, feigning shock. "I don't want you anywhere near me with a needle, lady. I'll learn to live with the scar."

  "It's not all that unattractive," Angela ventured.

  Rafe gave a snort of laughter. "If you're trying to beguile me it's not going to work. I'm damn angry at you for disobeying me. In the first place, you ventured too far from our campsite for your bath. You're lucky I came looking for you when I did."

  "I wanted privacy," Angela said defensively. "I had no idea there were Indians in the area."

  Rafe sent her a mocking grin. "Privacy? I've seen everything you have to offer, Angel."

  He touched her cheek. Angel sucked in a shaky sigh as his fingers wandered downward along the side of her face. They grazed her neck; he stared into her eyes and cupped her breast. Watching her expression, he gently kneaded the firm mound, smiling to himself when her eyes closed and a soft moan tumbled from her lips. She wasn't as immune to him as she pretended.

  God, he wanted her. It had been too damn long since he'd experienced the sweet thrill of loving his Angel. Bending close, he kissed her closed eyes and soft, trembling lips, drawing on them until he elicited another sigh from her.

  "Let me love you, Angel."

  She glanced up at him, her expression troubled. His face was tense, his silver eyes a translucent window to the hunger and longing behind them. Mesmerized by his steady gaze, she felt powerless to resist.

  His breathing sounded ragged. Her own breathing was just as frazzled and she tried unsuccessfully to bring it under control. She was aware that he was leaning closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

  Though she knew she might regret it later, she had no will where Rafe was concerned. No protest was forthcoming when he lowered her to the bedroll and leaned over her. She breathed deeply, savoring his musky scent as their breaths mingled. His hands found her breasts, his mouth covered hers. With a breathy little moan she arched shamelessly into the hot, wet suction of his kiss. She eagerly accepted his tongue, relishing his taste as he boldly explored her mouth.

  "I want you naked," Rafe whispered against her lips.

  He undressed her quickly, tearing her shift in his haste to remove every stitch of her clothing. She squirmed impatiently as he sat back on his haunches and stared at her.

  "You're body is perfection," he murmured. "There's nothing about you I don't admire. Someday I hope to hear your lovely voice raised in song as you rock our babes to sleep."

  Angel went still. Did Rafe realize what he'd just said? "Are you saying you want us to stay married? To live together as husband and wife? How are you going to arrange that with the law after you?"

  "I'll find a way. Help me," he whispered raggedly, fumbling with the fastenings on his shirt.

  Moments later he was as naked as she. Angela's gaze slid over him with appreciation. His broad shoulders and massive chest blocked out the sun. His hips were lean, his legs long and sleekly muscled. Her eyes dropped to his sex. It was distended and rigid, the tip purplish blue and throbbing.

  Rafe noted the direction of her gaze and smiled. "Touch me."

  A tentative fingertip trailed slowly from the engorged crown clear to the root of him, then back along the ridged underside. He groaned, thrusting his hips forward, as if begging for more. Angela complied, encircling him with her fingers, holding him firmly within her palm.

  He gritted his teeth against the jolt of raw pleasure that surged through him. His breath came harsh and labored. There was a primitive pounding in his head. His blood boiled in his veins. Desire churned through him. His shaft swelled, thickened, grew harder and fuller. Battered by furious need, he pumped his hips, moving faster and faster within her hand, until he was forced to exert his willpower or end this too soon.

  "Enough," he growled, removing her hand from his rigid member. "I want this to last as long as possible."

  Leaning forward, he took a puckered nipple into his mouth and suckled her. Moving from breast to breast, he sucked, nipped and laved, until Angela was drowning in an turbulent sea of pleasure/pain. His knuckles brushed the hollow of her belly. His fingers grazed the silken fleece between her thighs, tracing her moist cleft.

  Flailing her head from side to side, Angela stifled a cry when his bold fingers explored deep inside her. She was trembling from head to toe; molten fire spread along her nerve-endings. When he bent his head and touched the taut little bud at the entrance of her sex with the tip of his tongue, mind-numbing pleasure shot through her.

  "Rafe! Please. Come inside me. Now."

  Ignoring her, his tongue played havoc with her senses as he explored her thoroughly. Just when Angela thought she would shatter from the pressure building inside her, he parted her wide with his knees and nudged her entrance with the velvet tip of his shaft. His hands slid beneath her buttocks, lifting her high. Then he thrust deep. She felt the scalding length of him clear to the gates of her womb.

  A cry ripped from her throat and she clutched at his shoulders, her nails biting deep into his skin. She rose up eagerly to meet the wild pounding of his hips. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto hers, but it failed to register. Nothing mattered but the desperate need to reach that distant pinnacle. Then abruptly she was there, drenched in profound bliss as she exploded around him.

  Rafe heard Angel's cry, felt her contract around him, and his blood surged thick and molten. The feel of her sheath tightening around his engorged shaft destroyed what little control he had left. Bowing to the frenzied demands of his body, he plunged inside her silken heat, imbedding himself deep, his passion soaring, inciting him toward a rapturous release. He felt her pulsating around him as he gave up his seed.

  Rafe waited until his heartbeat settled to a steady roar before he pulled out and rolled to his side. His eyes closed and he drifted off.

  Eons later, or it could have been only moments, Rafe felt something brush against his face. Startled awake, he opened his eyes, smiling when he saw Angel leaning over him, her fingers gently tracing his scar. A jolt of tenderness passed through him when she placed a gentle kiss where her fingers had been only moments before.

  "It's my fault you were wounded, Rafe. You were right. I shouldn't have strayed so far from camp."

  "Forget it, love. At least I no longer have to worry that you'll bolt. I doubt you'll try to return to the Golden Angel now that you realize the danger involved."

  "I suppose you're right," Angela agreed sweetly. Too sweetly for Rafe's peace of mind.

  Rafe searched her face. "I don't like that look, Angel. What are you planning?"

  "I know better than to return on my own, but you can't stop me from trying to convince you to take me back. We're not so far away that turning back is no longer an option. Anson could steal me blind during my absence. He might even construe my disappearance as license to take over the mine in my stepfather's name."

  A predatory gleam lit the centers of Rafe's silver eyes. "Hmmm, you've got me curious. I'm sure I'll enjoy your brand of persuasion if it requires more of what we just shared." He pulled her down on top of him. "Go ahead, sweetheart, do your worst. I can hardly wait."

  Chapter Twelve

  Rafe and Angela approached Pueblo the following morning just as the stores were opening for the day. Angela felt wonderfully alive after a night of nearly nonstop lovemaking. She and Rafe had made love, then napped briefly, only to awaken and turn to one another again in the night, until darkness gave way to a glorious dawn.

  "I thought you wanted to avoid towns," Angela said when Rafe turned down the main thoroughfare.

  He reined in, waited for her to come abreast, then plucked his hat from her head and settled it on his own. "You need a hat. I'll wait outside the general store while you go inside and purchase something to your liking. Buy a sack of coffee, we're almost out, and anything else
you think we might need. I'd like this to be the last town we visit until Dodge City.

  Angela glanced furtively down the street. Vendors and early shoppers were just beginning to stir. "What if you're recognized?"

  He pulled the hat down low over his forehead. "I'll be careful." He started forward and Angela plodded after him. They reined in at the general store.

  "There's money in your saddlebags," Rafe said as Angela dismounted.

  Angela found the money, peeled off a few bills and put the rest back. "I won't be long."

  She tied her horse to the hitching post and started toward the store. She hadn't gone five steps when she stopped abruptly, her eyes focused on one of the wanted posters placed prominently on a post outside the store. Blood rushed to her head and her heart pounded erratically. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Rafe had seen the poster bearing the pictures of the Gentry brothers.

  "I see it," Rafe said quietly. "Pretend the poster doesn't mean anything to you and go about your business."

  Angela nodded jerkily and walked into the store without a backward glance.

  Rafe's eyes narrowed as he studied the poster bearing a rather bad likeness of him and his brothers. The poster boldly proclaimed the Gentry brothers bank robbers, and offered a five hundred dollar reward for their capture. Rafe wondered why there wasn't another poster beside it, charging Rafe Gentry with the murder five people.

  Pulling the brim of his hat down lower, he turned his head away from passersby. He thought it highly unlikely that he would be recognized, given the poor quality of the picture on the poster, but he wasn't taking any chances. He breathed a sigh of relief when Angela exited the store wearing a tan hat atop her blond hair and carrying a cloth sack filled with the supplies she'd purchased. Rafe dismounted, took the sack from her and fastened it to his saddle horn. He didn't relax until the town was behind them.