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Authors: Ceciliaand the Stranger

Liz Ireland (25 page)

BOOK: Liz Ireland
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Cecilia reddened in confusion. None of this made sense to her, especially not with the sensual words he had whispered to her in the darkness still reverberating in her head. She sat up, careful to cover her nakedness with the blanket, and studied his granite-hard face for signs of any of the feeling he had revealed last night. There were none.

Awkwardly she cast her gaze to the ashes of the little fire he must have created this morning and mumbled, “I guess people don’t do...things like that...in the morning.”

Jake bit back bitter laughter. God knew, he wanted nothing more than to shuck off his clothes and jump under that blanket with her, but that was impossible. Now that he had had time to gather his wits, he realized that there was more than one reason to be hesitant. Gunter could be anywhere, and if he found them, Jake doubted the man would be too understanding of their need for privacy. There was also the problem of what could result from their exuberant couplings—what might have already.

But how could he explain this to Cecilia, who still seemed as eager to throw caution to the wind as she had last night?

Finally, he didn’t try. “You need to get your clothes on,” he instructed her instead.

Cecilia’s face drained to a sickly white color. “Fine,” she said indignantly. “But you’re going to have to either make yourself useful and hand me my dress or do me an even bigger favor by making yourself scarce.”

Jake stood and walked the few feet to fetch her dress. In the course of their late-night activity, apparently, they had traveled a ways. He smiled and handed the wrinkled blue garment to her. “I aim to please.”

Her blue eyes were unblinking. “Then please go away.” Practically speaking, there was nowhere to dress but a clump of scruffy bushes by the brown watering hole they had camped beside, and she had no intention of doing a mad naked dash over there.

Jake went to take care of the horses. He’d already led them over to the water this morning while Cecilia slept. Now he saddled them up, cursing himself as he worked. If he was more the kind of man Cecilia said she wanted, he would be able to articulate his reasons for not taking her into his arms and kissing the breath out of her this morning, like he wanted to. Lord, he’d lain next to her beneath that blanket for nearly an hour at dawn just looking at her sweet sleeping face. That she could doubt he wanted her, especially after last night, grated on his nerves.

He watched her make her way to the pond on wobbly morning legs, her dirty wrinkled dress unable to disguise her beauty. She tied her hair back simply at the nape of her neck, then proceeded to take a modest bath, washing her face and arms and even her feet before she pulled on her shoes.

“Wish I’d grabbed a pair of boots before I left,” she said.

Jake suddenly looked away, as though he had been caught peeping at her, which annoyed Cecilia. What had happened during their short hours of sleep that would cause him to treat her like dirt?

Her blood working up to a rolling boil, Cecilia stomped back to the fire, folded the blanket, then tossed back the coffee in one hearty gulp. It tasted like mud, but she’d die before she let him see her wince.

“I’ll take care of the bay,” she said as she approached the horses. He was in the process of tightening the girth.

“I’ve about got it,” he said dismissively.

Cecilia stood aside, stewing. Hadn’t Clara warned her this would happen?
When a girl gets a reputation, men don’t think they have to respect her anymore. They just take, take, take.

Her chin lifted proudly a notch as she watched him finishing up. Did he truly not respect her? It seemed impossible—he’d been so tender, so loving. Yet there had to be some reason that girls were supposed to guard against situations like this, and Cecilia had a hunch she’d just discovered it. It cut deeper than the loss of reputation, or a scandal in the family. A man like Jake Reed could break your heart.

He
had
broken her heart, a fact that stunned her. How had she let it happen? Her whole life she’d been so careful not to fall in love, yet this time she had stumbled right into the trap, knowing this mysterious character wasn’t who he claimed. Knowing she was attracted to him as she had been to no other man. And now he had taken what trust and love she had and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot.

Her face turned crimson with self-recrimination. Fool! Yet she knew if he asked her to repeat last night’s folly, she would probably say yes in a heartbeat. More annoying still, it didn’t appear likely that he would ask her to, now or ever, and she felt like crying like a baby because of it.

“Guess that’s about it,” Jake said, giving the horses a quick once-over.

Cecilia, her arms crossed, sashayed forward with a scowl. “I can saddle my own horse,” she informed him.

“I know that,” Jake retorted, edging away from her.

“I can also take a hint.”

He looked at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She threw him a disbelieving glare. “I mean, you don’t have to worry that I’ll throw myself at you. I can keep my distance just as well as you can.”

“Good.” He started inspecting his bridle very closely.

Good?
Cecilia nearly choked with rage. Did he think he could get away with that blunt a brush-off? If so, he had another think coming! She snatched her father’s rifle off her saddle, checked to make sure it was loaded—and that Jake knew it was—and pointed it right at his chest.

“If you’re going to be rude, you’d better find a more polite way to go about it,” she said menacingly.

His dark eyes widened as he felt the barrel of her shotgun poke him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, even if you’re through with me, you could have at least had the decency to pretend you weren’t.”

“But I’m not through with you,” he said. The phrase, coming out of his mouth, irked her and she prodded him once more. Jake quickly explained, “We just can’t...make love again.”

Her face reddened with shame to hear him say the words aloud. “I couldn’t agree more. We shouldn’t have in the first place,” she said, trying desperately to salvage some pride. “Or in the second place.”

“Cecilia, we have a madman chasing us. He could have come upon us last night.”

“I said I agreed with you, Jake.” Did he have to rub salt in her wounds?

Jake heaved a heavy sigh and looked across the horizon. “Also,” he added heavily, his voice a gruff mumble, “we really should get married.”

Cecilia froze, half disbelieving what she’d heard. As his words slowly sank in, she lowered the rifle, completely stunned. “You mean, you want to marry me?”

Want
to marry her? Jake couldn’t believe she wasn’t laughing in his face for having the audacity to suggest it. She might yet, he reminded himself, given how she so recently said she wanted nothing to do with someone who wanted something to do with a ranch. Warily, he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

It was like a miracle...a very reluctant miracle, judging by his tone of voice. Marriage. Mrs. Jake Reed. It hardly seemed real. Cecilia had received proposals before, but none that she had taken as seriously as this unlikely one. The way he’d spat it out at her still bothered her, though.

“I hope you don’t feel obliged to ask me, Jake.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Don’t you think I should?”

“No, I don’t,” she said proudly.

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t want you to put yourself out,” she snapped.

Jake couldn’t believe she was just sloughing off his offer of marriage. He reached out and took her arm, dragging her close. “I know you’re not used to thinking about mundane, practical matters, Cecilia, but what we did last night has consequences.”

Consequences.
Cecilia’s heart felt as though a crack as wide as the Grand Canyon had just rent it in two. “If you’re worried about the wages of sin—”

“Aren’t you?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“But you’re not going to,” Jake told her flatly, backing up his words with an emphatic shake. “Not while I’m around.”

She squirmed in his grasp, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “Your loving proposal has just about knocked me off my feet, Mr. Reed,” she said in a high, lilting, sarcastic voice.

“I would think you’d be relieved.”

Cecilia thought guiltily of the relief she did feel—that he still wanted her, not that he wanted to marry her. She was ashamed to say that she was perfectly willing to accept the former without demanding the latter. Nevertheless, not a word had he mentioned about love, which was something she absolutely required for marriage. How else could two people stand each other for a lifetime?

Love wasn’t something her pride would allow her to beg for, however. “You’re hardly the type of man I’ve been waiting my whole life for,” she reminded him. As the spiteful words hit their target, Jake’s hands fell from her arms.

Wasn’t a woman supposed to be flattered when a man proposed? Jake wondered. For all he knew, Cecilia was happy and this was just her stubborn way of showing it. In which case, it looked like he might have a lifetime of swapping put-downs to look forward to. To show his willingness to put up with whatever she wanted to dish out, he took a conciliatory step forward.

His gesture was answered by the short, sharp crack of rifle fire. The black horse bolted away at a gallop, and Jake jerked Cecilia down to a crouch with him and they quickly scanned the open area. They were at the bottom of a slight incline; at the top was a stand of cedar trees. The only shelter they had was the clump of scrubby bushes near the pond.

“We’ve got to take cover!” Cecilia whispered. Before Jake could confer with her, she dashed toward the bushes, dodging a bullet as it whizzed by her.

Jake dived the last few feet to reach cover. “Are you crazy?” he yelled at her as she peeked over a branch. “Keep low.”

She had her rifle poised for action while he was still fumbling. His heart pumping like mad, he spun the barrel of his Colt and checked his ammunition. Gunter! The thought filled him with dread, especially when he saw Cecilia kneeling as cool as a cucumber next to him.

“Put that thing down and get behind me,” he instructed her, looking at the trees at the top of the incline. They were positioned like ducks in a barrel.

“Hide, you mean?” Cecilia asked.

“You don’t know Gunter,” Jake warned.

“Do you think he’s alone?”

Jake said nothing. He hadn’t been alone on the road to Fredericksburg, but this wasn’t a guessing game.

It was a deadly game, with him and now Cecilia as both target and prize. Jake felt sick with dread, but kept his eye trained on the cedars. How long was Gunter willing to hold out? His adversary had already proven himself more watchful and patient than Jake would ever have guessed.

For endless minutes they sat crouched side by side, their eyes focused forward. Jake’s heart beat like a tom-tom; beside him, he could almost feel Cecilia’s alert tension. Neither party spoke until Jake finally made the first volley.

“Come on and show yourself, Gunter!” he hollered up the hill.

In answer, a bullet whizzed past his skull. Cold anger soared through Jake. “You missed me, Gunter!” Jake cried. “Come out and let’s us fight this out one-on-one!”

Another shot cracked through the air.

“Damn!” Jake muttered. He glanced over to make sure Cecilia was okay. Her gaze was still intently watching the cedars. He thanked God she had a cool head, but wondered whether a weepy hysterical woman might be easier to deal with on some level. At least then he would feel as if he could protect her somehow.

Still, he had to try. “I’ve got a woman down here, Gunter. You’ve got no grudge against her.”

Cecilia shook her head furiously. “Don’t, Jake.”

For a moment, the air was silent, until a loud, sinister chuckle reached their ears. “You and me both, Reed.”

Cecilia and Jake exchanged startled looks, then watched as someone appeared from behind a tree. Someone female, and familiar. Recognizing the hostage’s proud carriage right away, Cecilia let out a gasp.

“He’s got Rosalyn Pendergast!” she exclaimed in a low angry voice.

How did that woman end up getting herself into this mess? Bile rose in Jake’s throat, especially when he saw Gunter shove the lady forward, using her as cover. For as long as he could remember, he’d hated Gunter—but never so much as at this moment.

As the two came forward, with Gunter so close behind Miss Pendergast they were nearly in lockstep, Jake knew his odds for survival, and Cecilia’s, had just shrunk exponentially. He would never get a bead on Gunter with the woman in the way, but using her as a shield Gunter could get close enough to blow him to kingdom come. And then what would happen to Cecilia, and the other lady?

Slowly, Cecilia started creeping away from him, toward the other edge of the bushes. “Stay still,” Jake hissed at her.

“Don’t mind me,” she returned sharply.

Don’t mind her?
Nothing else had been on his mind for days now! He sent up a silent prayer that Cecilia didn’t have some crazy notion in her head, like trying to make a run for their horses, or acting as decoy.

“Let the woman go!” Jake yelled. God, how had this happened? He’d been alone in this chase for so long, and now, at this critical juncture, he was saddled with the responsibility not for just one woman—which was frightening enough—but two. Pendergast’s sister.

Gunter had gagged her with an old grimy handkerchief. Jake shuddered to think what else he had done to her. Now the villain laughed that sickening laugh of his again. In all these years, Jake had never heard that sound. Maybe Gunter was giddy with the prospect of triumph.

“Why don’t you send your woman out, Reed, and then maybe I’ll let this one go!”

Jake glanced over and saw Cecilia’s jaw saw back and forth; her cheeks were stained with pent-up ire, but she was still holding that old Spencer up, which had to be painful since the rifle was so heavy. “She doesn’t want to go,” he answered, then added flippantly, “I don’t think she trusts you, Gunter.”

“Then come out yourself,” Gunter shouted, “or I’ll put a bullet through this one’s head.” He cocked his pistol and pressed the lead against Rosalyn Pendergast’s temple. The woman’s terrified eyes tortured Jake; her expression pleaded mercy to one man who had none, and begged rescue from Jake, who was helpless to aid her except by giving himself up. But what would happen to her once he was dead? What would happen to Cecilia?

BOOK: Liz Ireland
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