She closed her eyes, wondering if he just didn't want her, or if he thought her too forward. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong." She wedged her elbow between them, attempting to shove him away and refusing to give in to the tears gathered behind her eyelids. "I have to go now."
"No, no, Casey, don't go like this." He held her firmly in his arms. "You don't understand what I am saying. I want you so badly I almost forgot you have troubles enough without me complicating your life."
She saw pain and devastation in his eyes. "What do you feel for me?"
His breath came out in a great rush. "What do I feel for you? I have walked in darkness for so long, I want to bask in the light of your smile. Until I met you, my life was the same from one day to the next. Now the simple touch of your hand can get me through a whole day. There is not an hour that passes without me thinking of you. That's how I feel about you."
"You probably think I'm too young to know what I feel, but I'm not. I want to... I... think I love you."
His breath hissed out, and he pressed his face into her hair, his body trembling and quaking. Those were the sweetest words he'd ever heard, and they pushed away his loneliness like the sun breaking through the darkest clouds. But still, he had to do what was best for her. "Sweetheart. If you only knew the truth about me, you would despise me."
She pulled away from him, wondering what he meant. He had not said he loved her; he'd said only that he needed her. "Nothing you could do would make me despise you. You are a good and honorable man. Don't you think I know that? I couldn't feel about you the way I do if that weren't true."
"The time will come when you will regret what you've said here tonight."
"Gabe, what are you talking about? I know there's something in your past that's bothering you. Why don't you tell me about it? It won't matter. I trust you more than I trust any man."
He saw the confusion in her eyes and thought about admitting the whole truth. But he couldn't say the words. When she heard them, she would probably order him off the place, and he needed to stay close to her to protect her from Cyrusespecially after today.
"I'm just an ordinary man. I have no criminal past, and I have killed no man except faceless enemies in the war." He touched his mouth to her cheek and closed his eyes. "I want nothing more than to hold you like this forever." He pressed his face against hers. "I know just how to touch you and make you need me-I know the words to say that will make you fall willingly into my bed, but I won't. Do you understand that?"
Casey didn't understand at all. She only knew that he was rejecting her, and that hurt so badly.
"I'm sorry, Gabe, about the way I threw myself at you. I should never have behaved in such an unladylike manner. I don't know what I was thinking."
He knew it was better to hurt her a little now rather than to destroy her completely by taking all she had to give. "I have never allowed any woman to get as close to me as you have. I never needed anyone-I still don't."
"I see." And she did see what he was trying to do. He was trying to do the honorable thing by her. But she believed he needed her, whether he would admit it or not. "I understand what you are doing better than you think. It's all right to put your past behind you and start a new life."
He felt a gut-wrenching twist in his heart, and it left him breathless. She had reached inside him and found a tenderness that he hadn't known existed. He had lain awake many nights trying to imagine what it would feel like to be a part of her family.
Casey saw pain and indecision in his eyes, and she thought she might know him better than he knew himself. What set of events had made him such a loner? Gabe's strength and endurance had been apparent from the first day she'd met him, but there was a part of him that cried out for something-she wasn't quite sure what.
"You have no family, have you, Gabe?" She stepped closer to him and touched his cheek, feeling the stubble of his beard. "Has your life been so intolerable?"
He turned enough to touch his lips to her hand, and he knew this would be the perfect time to tell her about himself. But he let the moment pass and said, "I had not given my life much thought until I met you."
"Are you saying you love me?"
Love... he certainly had never given that emotion much thought, either; he wasn't sure he knew what it meant. He had seen what love had done to his mother. Her whole world had been wrapped around the husband who so rarely came to see her. He remembered her standing at the door for hours watching for Cyrus. Most of the time, she'd been disappointed. His mother had died without her husband beside her, and she had been buried without him to mourn her.
"I don't want to need anyone, Casey. Don't look for feelings in me that I don't have." He stepped away from her. "I need to leave you now."
She looked at him solemnly, feeling heavyhearted. He was so alone, and he didn't even know how to accept love or to give it. "I must go in myself. I wouldn't want Jenny to wake up and find me gone."
He watched her leave, knowing he could never have her. He was Cyrus's son, and she would never understand why he hadn't told her the truth from the beginning. Now things had gone too far for him to admit he had tainted blood in his veins.
With a last glance toward the house, he headed for the bunkhouse. He had to let Casey go. He had to concentrate on what his father's next move would be, and he had to be ready for it when it came.
Jenny was taking a nap, and the house was quiet, so Casey stepped outside to sweep the front porch. It must have been windy during the night, because autumn-colored elm leaves were scattered across the porch.
She had been restless all day. Gabe had been avoiding her for the last week, and she certainly wouldn't seek him out. She waited for him to come to her and explain some of the things he had said that night in the barn.
She heard the rider before she saw him. He didn't come by way of the main road to the house but from the little-used river road.
She gripped the broom as a stranger rode into view. He dismounted and approached with a rolling gait. His skin was dark and swarthy, his hair so blond it was almost white.
Silently she watched him climb the steps. He paused at the railing and looked at her for a mo ment. His eyes were so pale it was almost impossible to tell the whites from the irises. He was tall and beefy, and he was staring at her as if he knew what she was wearing beneath her gown.
She started to lean the broom against the porch railing but reconsidered-it wasn't much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. Gabe had warned her not to be alone with strangers, but there was nothing she could do to avoid this man.
He shoved his hat farther back on his head and smiled, making his thin lips appear even thinner. He had managed to make his smile look like a threat.
"I suppose you're Miss Hamilton?"
Casey bristled. "In my family, a man introduces himself to a lady before she gives him her nameif she chooses to give him her name at all."
His jaw hardened, and although his voice was soft, it was no less menacing. "Name's Ira Teague, and I'm foreman over to the Casa Mesa ranch. I waited until everyone rode away so I could have a little talk with you, alone. Sort of a private talk to clear up some things for my boss." He ran his large hand across his chin. "I kinda like the thought of being alone with you."
Fear twisted inside her, and she had the strongest urge to dash into the house and bolt the door. But she had a feeling a locked door would not keep this man out of the house. At last she found her voice, and she hoped it didn't show how frightened she really was. "If you have business with this ranch, you can wait at the bunkhouse until the foreman gets back."
"I didn't come to talk to Gabe. The boss said I was to talk to you, and no one else."
"Your boss already had a talk with me, and I didn't much care for his topic of conversation."
"We don't have to talk. You're a pretty little gal-we could do other things. I could think of a few I'd like."
She almost stumbled over the broom in her haste to get farther away from him. Ther
e was a cruel twist to his mouth when he smiled at her. "Now you don't want to run from me, do you? I won't hurt you much."
She was never so brave as when her back was to the wall. "You can just leave now."
"Not yet," he said, taking a step toward her. "I'm not ready to go." He stopped right in front of her, his hand touching her sleeve and rubbing the material between his fingers.
She quickly jumped back and swatted his hand away. "Don't you dare touch me!"
His gaze swept her body. "I'll do more'n that. I ain't never had me a woman as pretty as you."
Casey knew she should run, but she didn't want to draw him into the house where jenny was, and she knew that if she tried to dart around him, he would only catch her.
"Get off my land," she said in a voice that shook with emotion.
He took another step toward her, and she was about to cry out when they heard the sound of riders. Casey feared it would be more of Mr. Slaughter's men arriving. She hoped it would be Sam and Kate returning.
Teague swung around to stare at the two riders, and so did Casey. Even though they wore white man's clothing, it was evident that they were Indians. As both of them scrutinized the situation, hope bloomed inside her. Were they the two Comanches Gabe had sent for?
"Flint, Omous," Teague said with contempt, "what're the two of you doing here?" His colorless eyes seemed to darken, and his fists tightened at his sides. "I guess wherever Gabe is, I'll always find the two of you somewhere near."
"It's good if you remember this, Teague," the older Indian remarked. "Our path is not for you to know. I do not answer to you."
He spoke English with an accent Casey had never heard before.
"Are you unharmed, miss?" There was concern in the Indian's dark eyes, as if he knew she had been threatened in some way.
She nodded her head, relieved that they were not with Teague. She was trembling so badly she hid her hands behind her back so no one could see them.
The younger Indian moved in her direction and stationed himself between her and Teague in a protective manner.
"Gabe would not want you to be near this woman. If you are wise, you will leave now," the older Indian stated.
"It's always been the same, Omous. Whenever I see the two of you, I know Gabe isn't far behind. I'm sure the boss'll be mighty pleased to hear you've joined up with him."
"Your words have no meaning to me. I do not listen to the skunk that moves in the night."
Teague merely grinned. "I'll be leaving now, but I'll be back." He looked pointedly at Casey and winked. "You and I have unfinished business together, pretty gal."
Casey's legs went so weak, she leaned against the porch railing for support. "I am so glad you came when you did," she said to the young Indian. She watched Teague ride away, even now fearing he might come back. "I was afraid."
"I am Flint," the younger Indian said, then glanced at her. "If you are Gabriel's woman, you have nothing to fear from that man. He will not let anyone harm you, and neither will my father or me."
She shook her head. "I am not Gabriel's woman. I am no one's woman."
He looked puzzled. Why would Gabe go to so much trouble to keep this woman safe if she was not his? "I am sorry if I mistakenly spoke of something I know nothing about," he said apologetically.
He had a better command of the English language than the older man did, and she thought he might have been educated in school. She was surprised that she felt no fear of them; in fact, she sensed only concern for her safety. It was fortunate for her that they had come along when they had. They were of the same height, each tall, each with a leather band around his forehead and long hair that came past his shoulders.
Omous must have been somewhere in his forties, or maybe even fifty; it was difficult to tell. His features were sharp, his nose was prominent, and his dark eyes were alert as he stared after Teague, making sure he didn't double back.
Flint was younger, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. She could see his resemblance to his father.
"Gabriel is not here?" Omous asked.
"He rode out early this morning, and I don't know when he'll be home." She pointed to the bunkhouse. "You can stow your belongings there, and if you are hungry, I have stew on the stove."
"We will just wait for Gabriel," Omous told her.
Flint's smile was gentle. "You have nothing to fear from that man. We will be watching over you until Gabriel returns."
Casey had always imagined that all Indians were fierce, people to be feared. She now realized that bringing the Comanches to the Spanish Spur was Gabe's way of protecting her family when he wasn't there.
Gabe walked the length of the bunkhouse and back again. "You are saying Teague threatened her?"
Omous nodded. "Yes. And she was frightened. I believe it is good that we came along when we did. Why did you leave your woman unprotected?"
Gabe frowned. "Miss Hamilton is not my woman."
Omous smiled. "She said that also. But you must say this to someone who has not held you when you took your first breath. My son and I thought because of the urgent message you sent to us that this woman is important to you."
"You see things that are not there."
Flint chuckled. "She is unusually fair. If she smiled at me, I know I could not resist her."
Gabriel swung around to face Flint, whom he had played with as a boy and who had always been his best friend. "You will not go near enough to her to see her smile."
Omous shook his head and smiled at his son. "It is much worse than I thought. If he is jealous of you, he is in a bad way."
Gabe waved Omous aside, unwilling to speak of his feelings for Casey. "I can't let Teague get away with threatening her. This insult must not go unanswered."
"You know they will be expecting you," the Comanche warned him.
Gabe looked at the two men he trusted above all others. Whenever he had been in trouble, they had always come to him. Flint was a year older than Gabe, but they had been like brothers.
"You taught me to move silently, Omous. I will be in Teague's face before he sees me coming."
"Then we must go tonight."
Gabe nodded. "My father will stop at nothing to get his hands on this ranch. But at the moment he's more interested in catching me in a trap than obtaining the Spanish Spur."
Flint grinned. "Then we must not disappoint him."
Dark clouds covered the moon, casting the night in darkness, and Gabe knew that was to his advantage. He had left Omous with the horses some distance from the ranch house, while he and Flint cautiously approached the bunkhouse.
There were no lamps burning, but they both knew they were expected. Silently they crept in the shadows to an open window.
"They will expect us to go in through here," Flint whispered.
"Then we go in by the door, which they won't be expecting."
"That would be wise."
"You stay low and go to your left, and I will go to the right," Gabe instructed him.
"I understand."
The door opened easily, too easily. Still, Gabe stepped inside and flattened his back against the wall, knowing Flint, crouched down behind him, was sliding in the opposite direction.
It was suspiciously quiet. At this time of night everyone should be sleeping, and someone would be snoring. Gabe knew only too well how the room was arranged, since he had once lived on the ranch. He also knew the black heart of the man who waited inside that room to spring a trap.
Someone struck a match, and someone else lit a lamp. There were only three men present, and Gabe knew them all. Richard Bates was always ready to do whatever Teague wanted him to do. Charley Latter was nearly as mean as Teague, but not quite.
Apparently none of them had seen Flint, who had hunkered down behind a cot.
"We've been waiting for you," Teague said with a sly smile. "You might like to know you've got friends here, 'cause none of the others had the stomach for what I'm going to do to you." The lines around hi
s mouth deepened. "You have been stuck in my craw for years, and I'm about to spit you out."
Teague motioned for the others to come forward. "Take him! Drag him to me, and don't be too gentle about it."
Flint stood up, cocked his rifle, and aimed it at Teague's heart. "If any one of your men steps in to help, I will shoot you." His voice was cold, his words decisive. "Do not try to help," he said to the others, "or the foreman dies."
"Take him at his word," Gabe said, remembering the hell the foreman had made of his life as a child. "This fight is between you and me, Teague. It always has been."
Teague smiled slowly as he took a step toward Gabe. "That's just the way I like it. The boss will thank me for what I'm about to do to you. How does it feel to know your pa don't care what happens to you?"
They circled each other while everyone else watched. Their gazes locked as they each looked for the first opening.
"I feel only contempt for him. You're the one who always licks his boots."
"You bastard."
"Are you going to talk me to death, Teague?"
The older man's face reddened. "I gave you a beating once. I can do it again."
"That's right, you did-but I was a boy at the time. I'm a man now. The odds are in my favor this time. I'm younger than you by at least ten years," Gabe taunted.
"That's to my advantage. Because I'm thirty pounds heavier than you are," Teague retaliated.
Gabe's contemptuous glance showed what he thought of the extra weight Teague carried. "How are you when you face a man instead of a young boy, or a woman, foreman?"
Teague was the first to strike, and he was lightning quick. Gabe didn't see it coming, and his knees buckled when Teague's fist connected with his midsection.
Teague thought he'd take advantage of Gabe while he was hunched over, heaving for breath. He dived at Gabe, but Gabe was ready for him this time, and he rolled to the side, grabbing Teague's leg and taking him to the floor.
Latter moved to help the foreman, but Flint aimed the rifle at him. "Do not do it, white man. You have my promise you will be dead before you hit the floor."
Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) Page 11
