Chapter 5
Rafe didn’t know why he’d held out his hand to her. Particularly when she so openly expressed her disdain for it. Because of him? Because of the brand?
What in hell had he expected, anyway?
But she’d looked so wistful caught in the stream of light. The sun had bounced off her soft brown hair, making it appear a halo. He’d wondered why he thought her plain. She looked extremely pretty at that moment.
And fearful, when he’d walked over to her. He disliked himself heartily for causing that fear. But there was no help for it.
He had to keep her more afraid of him than anything, or anyone, else. That’s why he hadn’t searched for Abner in the cabin. Who, for Christ’s sake, would be afraid of a man who kept a mouse as a pet? He would find Abner later and keep him either in his pocket or in the stable.
He scowled at her, allowing her to see his displeasure.
“Don’t get any ideas about following this stream,” he said.
“It goes up into the mountain on one end and travels downstream over steep falls. You can’t get out either way.
And these woods are full of animals—bears, wolves, mountain lions, rattlesnakes—and traps. There’s no place to run.”
Despite the lingering wariness in her eyes, her voice was almost steady when she spoke. “Are you going to let me run?”
“No,” he said bluntly. “But I don’t want you to even think about it. You’ll leave when I want you to leave and not before.”
“I think I prefer a good honest bear.”
“That’s because you’ve never met one.”
“But I have met you,” Shea retorted bitterly.
“And anything would be better?” His smile mocked her, but her gaze remained steady as she silently agreed with the implied answer.
“I wouldn’t put it to the test if I were you,” he said in that agreeable voice that she was beginning to hate. “I don’t tear most of my … captives to pieces.”
“What do you do with them?”
“Tame them,” he said with the slightest quirk of his mouth, but again she saw no sense of humor there. Only menace.
“I don’t tame.”
His voice hardened, and there was a dangerous edge to it. “Anyone can be tamed, Miss Randall.”
Shea knew she was on dangerous ground, but she had to pursue what had been started. “Including you?”
“We’re not talking about me. We will never talk about me. Now you … that’s a different matter.”
Shea hated the insinuation in his voice, the reminder that he was in control, the rough mockery that meant to provoke and sting.
And it did. But she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing that if it killed her. She lifted her chin. “Do you always starve them too?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “It goes along with my bad character. After all, what can you expect of a convicted thief and branded outlaw?”
Despite his light tone, she sensed anguish, a raw pain that drained some of her anger. Did he realize he had revealed something he most likely wished to keep private? That piece of knowledge could be a weapon against him, but she would probably never use it.
She shook her head to dismiss that moment of weakness. She had to use whatever she could to escape.
He was watching her, apparently waiting for an answer to his question.
“Nothing,” she finally retorted. “I expect nothing.”
“Good, then you won’t be disappointed,” he drawled. “But I will feed you. You look as if you need a good meal. I don’t care for skinny women.” His taunt made it clear he was aware that he had revealed his pain to her. And he was punishing her for that.
“Then I’ll starve,” she shot back.
He shrugged. “Your choice.”
He went down to the stream and filled the bucket, averting his face from her. She wanted to run more than anything, but as before she knew he would catch her easily enough. He knew it, too, and his casual attitude toward her infuriated her. His confidence was galling. More than galling.
Humiliating.
He straightened, and she wished he weren’t so striking. His clothes molded to the muscles of his body, and there was a suppressed energy about him that electrified the air. Electrified her, for heaven’s sake.
Shea swallowed. She couldn’t believe she was thinking such a thing.
More handsome men had called on her, but she’d always felt little when she was with them, and relief when they left.
She’d worried about herself, the way she had remained so cool to them, even when she’d tried hard to feel something.
Whatever Rafferty Tyler was, he did not leave her cold.
He turned, and his startlingly blue-green eyes met hers. She wondered how they would look alight with laughter, rather than shuttered by that flatness that stopped anyone from looking inside.
“You’re still here?”
“You would like me to try to escape, wouldn’t you?”
“It might be interesting.”
“Well, I have no intention of providing amusement for you, Mr.…” Her voice trailed off. She had no idea what to call him.
“You do learn fast, Miss Randall,” he said. “I’m surprised.”
“It depends on what you want me to learn,” she said, unable to let him think he had cowed her altogether. “I know when to pick my opportunities, and I suspect now is not one of them.”
Something like appreciation crossed his face, but whatever it was, it lasted just a fraction of a second, and he was scowling at her again.
“There will be no opportunities, Miss Randall. I wasn’t just trying to scare you when I said these mountains are dangerous. I’m your only defense at the moment.”
“Is that supposed to reassure me?”
“No,” he said. His mouth quirked slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. She wondered if he was even capable of a smile. “Stay afraid of me, and we’ll do fine.”
“I don’t want to do fine.”
“I don’t give a damn what you want, Miss Randall. You can make this hard, or a little less hard. Those are your choices.”
“You’re a bastard,” she said, gritting her teeth.
“Remember that,” he said. “If you need to use those woods out there, do it now. And keep your head in sight.”
She blushed down to her toes. Bodily functions were something one didn’t discuss, particularly in such a cavalier fashion, and especially between a man and woman.
“You aren’t going to watch?”
That mouth quirked again. “Only your head, Miss Randall. I don’t trust your good sense quite yet.”
Sheer necessity quarreled with pride and modesty. Necessity won.
“I hope my father …” She stopped, not entirely sure what she wanted.
“Will kill me?”
“Sends you back to prison,” she said recklessly.
“You believe that’s preferable to dying?” he asked, a peculiar light in his eyes.
It should have warned her, but she plunged ahead. “Far better.”
“Perhaps a taste of it will change your mind,” he said bitterly.
Shea swallowed. “I haven’t done anything.”
“And I have?” he asked, that glint in his eyes even more ominous.
“I know you’ve been robbing payrolls here.”
“You know that, do you?” He was taunting her again. “And how do you know that?”
Shea started to answer, but she stopped. How did she know? Because he was a convicted thief? Because the clerk in Casey Springs had said there had been robberies in the area? Because he was holding her here against her will? But what if her captivity had nothing to do with the robberies?
She had leaped to conclusions. Had that happened to him before? Had he been innocent? Was he innocent now?
But then his mouth quirked again, and she knew better. He had played her for a fool. He had seen her doubts and led her right down the path she wanted to take. Now he was enjoying himself at her expense; now he was letting her see that he was every bit as bad as she had thought.
“You did rob those coaches,” she finally said in an uncertain voice.
“Of course I did,” he replied easily.
She felt anger prick at her again. She had never wanted to commit violence before, but she thought she might be able to do exactly that right now. “Why did you let me think …?”
The pretense of a smile left his face. “It doesn’t matter, Miss Randall. Now I’ll give you exactly four minutes before we go back to the cabin.”
As he watched Shea head for a thick clump of brush, Rafe regretted his cruelty.
He hadn’t intended it. He had thought she would throw his past conviction in his face when he’d asked her how she knew he had committed the robberies.
And then that damned doubt flitted through her eyes, touching him in ways he didn’t even want to think about.
It had almost made him feel human again, had made hope bubble up inside him.
But he didn’t want her doubts as to his guilt.
He didn’t want her pity. Not from a Randall.
And so he had stepped on her, as he would step on an insect, carelessly and without thought. And he’d hurt her.
He kept his eyes on her head, on the fine brown hair that looked like silk.
He kept his eyes there as a kind of punishment to himself.
He didn’t think she would take this time to try to escape.
She was too clever for that. She would wait until she had a head start, and then, wilderness or not, he suspected she would take off.
Rafe cursed himself, cursed that integrity and vulnerability about her that kept him off-balance.
He told himself it was just an act, but he really didn’t believe it.
Christ, he wanted to know about her relationship with the one man he despised above all others, and she wasn’t telling him.
Because she knew he would use it to hurt Jack Randall.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to avoid an unpleasant truth about himself.
He would use her or any other human being to bring about justice.
He wouldn’t, couldn’t, think beyond that, especially not the fact that this time he might be the one corrupting justice.
Any doubts he had were dispelled when he glanced down at his hand.
Rafe sensed her approach. His senses tingled, just as they had ever since she arrived. He didn’t look at her, just picked up the bucket and started toward the cabin, knowing she had no choice but to follow.