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Rafe slammed his cup onto the stove. "Miss Monroe, I
never intended to keep you." His gruff voice suggested she'd
offended him. "Believe me, a woman is the last thing I want."
"Then why "
His gray eyes narrowed to icy slits. "You saw your
alternatives outside."
Maggie shrank in her seat, the bitter coffee churning in her
stomach. Just the thought of those men...Their nasty hands
touching her bare skin...Their foul breath as they kissed her.
She shivered and swallowed down coffee-tinged bile.
Rafe heaved a loud breath. "You can't stay here. But I
promise to take you to Fort Union as soon as possible. What
you do where you go from there is entirely up to you. Until
then I'm afraid you'll have to trust me."
She stared at his mouth, hearing the words, but unable to
believe what he said. Her nails bit into her palms as she fisted
her hands. Trust me, he'd said. Well, she didn't! Men did as
they pleased and made no apologies for whom they hurt in
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the process. She'd spent her life controlled by men. Now this
one would take her off to God knew where, and she'd be at
his mercy.
Not if she could think of another way.
"I'll go change," Maggie said. "It's snowing much harder
now, and I'm sure we need to be on our way." She stood, her
gaze fading from outside as she pressed her necklace into
Tom's hand. "I'll appreciate whatever you can give me for the
necklace."
Maggie ducked beneath the blanket-door and eyed the tiny
window, unsure if she would fit, but positive of the horrors
that waited on the other side. No, that wasn't the way to
freedom. That was the way to unspeakable depravity. Mr.
McBride might be rough and bossy, but he didn't scare her
like the men on the street.
She slumped onto the bed. Even if she did climb out,
chances were she'd freeze to death. And until Tom paid her
for the necklace, she was penniless. She couldn't get to St.
Louis.
So there was no other way.
"Reckon she knows how to cook?" Tom's teasing voice
floated through the blanket.
"I doubt she knows how to do anything."
"That's not fair to say, Rafe."
"Maybe not, but I've known women like her. They pour
tea, buy dresses, pout and look pretty. The sooner I'm rid of
her, the better."
Relief flooded her despite his unkind words. He really
didn't want her. But why should that surprise her? Father
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always said she was too stupid to attract a man. In this
instance, she was glad.
She quickly unbuttoned his large coat and stripped off her
clothes, then fingered the red welts Michael had left on her
chest. Her face flushed with embarrassment thinking how
he'd exposed her breasts to those men. Including the one
who waited for her.
Trust me. The words again rumbled through her mind. He
didn't know what he asked. Every man she'd ever known
broke promises to her. She doubted Mr. McBride was any
different.
She spread her mud-spattered skirt on the floor, then
rolled her petticoats and other clothes into a bundle. Inside
the wooden box she found long underwear, soft from
washing. A patched shirt was next, then she sat to try the
trousers. Tugging the britches over her hips, she looked
longingly at her skirt. She felt naked dressed in trousers, the
fit indecent. She pulled the shirt from the waistband of the
pants, relieved it hung to her thighs. At least she looked more
proper.
There was another set of Jimmy's clothes in the box so she
took them, adding them to her bundle. She reached for
woolen socks and yanked them over her stockings, then
pulled on her boots.
Tom looked up from the counter when she entered the
room. "Them clothes look right nice on you, Miss Maggie."
Heated fingers of awareness traced up her back, a lazy
wave of desire that only one man had made her feel. She
spun, catching Rafe's gaze as he watched from the
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boardwalk. A shiver prickled her skin. She reached for her
new coat and slipped it on, letting the length cover her body.
"Thank you. Did you get a chance to look at the necklace?"
Tom grunted as he plopped down the sewing supplies and
bent to get the gold scale. He pulled the chain from the
locket, then weighed them both.
"Will one of them cover Mr. McBride's loss and his
supplies?" She wouldn't remain in his debt, but there had to
be something left for her.
"The locket is more 'n enough." Tom opened his cash
register and dropped several coins into her hand. "This is for
the chain."
"Are you sure?" She hadn't hoped for this much.
"Yep. Now stop worryin'."
If only she could.
Rafe came back inside in a burst of frigid air and blowing
snow. "Are you ready?"
No. "Yes." She took the burlap sack Tom offered for her
bundle of clothes.
"Don't fret, girl." Tom took her hand and squeezed. "He'll
keep you safe. I couldn't see sendin' you with him if'n he
wouldn't."
She nodded and tried to smile. "Thank you. For
everything."
She buttoned her coat while the men said their good-byes
on the boardwalk. Rafe took the sack from her hands and
strode toward the hitching post. Her gaze landed on his
horse. The huge beast was the animal she had considered
making her escape on. He looked as testy as his owner and
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she had to tolerate the company of both. She glanced from
horse to man and raised her chin a notch. After his less than
complimentary words, she'd be damned before showing fear.
The icy wind whipped her hair when she started from the
protective cover of the porch. She tucked the loose strands
into the collar of her coat and stepped off the boardwalk.
Rafe frowned. "Wait." He deposited her back on the porch
and disappeared inside, then returned and dropped a man's
felt hat onto her head. "To keep the snow and rain off your
face."
"Thank " She stopped short as he pulled a pair of thick
gloves from his pocket and pressed them into her hands.
"Thank you."
He shrugged. "Tom thought you should have them." Then
he walked to the horses, leaving her to follow.
Fine. He didn't want her gratitude. It made no difference to
her as long as he kept his promise and took her to the fort.
She stepped off the porch as the snow whirled around; bits
of ice mixed with the large flakes and stung her skin. She
tilted her head and leaned into the wind, glad for the hat and
for Tom's thoughtfulness.
"We'll have to ride double," Rafe said when she stood
beside him. "There's no room on the pack mule."
He tied her sack to the saddle horn, then turned. His steel
gaze darted from her to the animals, and he frowned, as if
he'd just realized how close riding double would be. Maggie
couldn't decipher his muttered curse, but judging by his dark
scowl, she didn't want to know his thoughts.
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He swung his lean frame onto the horse and settled in the
saddle, then reached a strong hand down to her. She looked
up way up at his outstretched palm. She placed her gloved
hand in his and hoped she didn't fall. Her breath whooshed
out in surprise when he pulled her up behind him as if she
weighed no more than a sack of feathers.
Oh, God. A shudder ran through her, and she covered her
eyes with her hands. No wonder she hated horses. She
cracked one eye open, glanced down...and buried her face
into Rafe's back. They sat at least six feet off the ground!
Thank God, she wouldn't have to attempt riding alone. Except
now her body pressed against his, a fact that stole her breath
and spiraled heat from her nipples to her cunny.
What should she do with her hands? If she held on to the
the saddle, she'd be dangerously close to his backside; [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]