Читать книгу Texas Rebels: Egan - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 11
ОглавлениеRachel’s skin burned and she wanted to scream. But she feared if she started, she would never be able to stop. She kept her eyes open, because if she closed them, she could feel the dogs on her—their smelly breath, coarse fur and claws so sharp they’d ripped through her skin.
A scream clogged her throat and she pulled the duster closer around her. The woodsy, masculine, sweaty scent enveloped her, but it wasn’t abrasive. It was soothing because it reminded her of Egan.
She kept her eyes on the door and soon he walked in with a bucket of water, which he set on the floor. Blood covered his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice it.
“I have to clean those wounds and see how bad they are.”
She pushed herself to a sitting position and brushed her fingers through her blood-caked, tangled hair. Egan’s hand touched her face and neck and she stilled. No one had ever touched her that way—gentle, caring and respectful.
“The skin is broken in several places and your neck has two punctures, but they don’t look deep. I’ll clean them with the water and then I can see better.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and dipped it in the bucket. Looking at her, he added, “It might be best if you remove your blouse. Some of the scratches on your neck go down.”
Without a second thought, she lifted the blouse over her head and exposed her breasts in a lacy pink bra. He seemed completely unmoved by the sight. Gently, he wiped and squeezed water over each scratch and wound until the liquid in the bucket was bloody. The cloth was cool on her skin, but an inner fire was building in her. With each stroke, she wanted to catch his hand and hold it to her breasts, to feel his touch in a more personal way. It probably was due to the trauma she’d been through, because she’d never reacted this way to any man before.
“I’m going to push on the neck bites to get them to bleed so it will cleanse the wounds of saliva and bacteria.”
“Okay.” She winced as his fingers pressed into her skin.
“I’m worried about rabies, even though Izzy takes very good care of those dogs. Still, they’re in the woods all the time and a few skunks have tested positive for rabies. There’s whiskey in the cabinet. Do you think you could stand it if I pour it over the scratches and bites? It’ll kill whatever bacteria is there and it’s all that I have available here. It’ll sting, but...”
Rachel reached out and removed Egan’s hat. He drew back slightly, which was his only reaction. “I can’t see your eyes with your hat on,” she said.
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Is it necessary to see my eyes?”
“Most definitely.”
He went to a small cabinet and came back with a bottle of whiskey. Handing it to her, he said, “You might want to drink some first.”
“Straight?”
“It’ll numb your senses.”
“All righty.”
She lifted the bottle and took a swig, swallowed and coughed as it burned her throat. Her eyes watered, but she took another drink.
“I have to get more water and rinse out the handkerchief. Sip it slowly or your eyes are going to bulge out. Evidently, you’re not used to hard liquor.”
“A margarita or a glass of merlot is more my style.”
“I could’ve guessed.”
She made a face and took another swig, coughing until she thought it was going to come up again. Lying back, she watched glittery rainbows float across the old wood beams of the ceiling. A numbness invaded her mind. She reached out for Egan’s hand. His strong fingers closed around hers and she knew everything was going to be okay. Egan would take care of her. That seemed odd, since she’d been fighting for years for her independence. But with Egan it was different.
“I like you, Egan Rebel.”
“Ma’am...”
A bubble of laughter erupted from her throat, and she thought if she could hear him say that word in that tone for the rest of her life, she would be in heaven.
* * *
EGAN WENT OUTSIDE for more water and rinsed the handkerchief until it was as clean as it was going to get. Back in the cabin Rachel was falling in and out of consciousness. He placed his hand on her forehead to see if she had a fever, but her skin was cool. She was just getting drunk and he had a feeling she didn’t do that often. If ever.
“Ready?” he asked, squatting by the bed.
She drew a deep breath. “Yes.”
He took the bottle from her and soaked the handkerchief. He started with the scratches on her hands and arms, where she’d fought the dogs. The moment the whiskey touched the open wounds she bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. He admired that. She had guts.
Quickly, he continued, making sure each scratch was covered with alcohol. She flinched when he did the ones on her face.
“Is it bad?”
“It’ll heal in no time and you’ll still be beautiful.”
“Ah, you think I’m beautiful?”
He soaked the bites on her neck and she bit her lip again, preventing her from talking, which he thought was good. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. God had heaven in mind when he’d created her. Natural blond hair, blue eyes and model-like features. Everything about her was perfection, including her curved, feminine body. Touching her skin was an exercise in restraint. Egan had never felt anything so soft, supple and tempting. One scratch arrowed down to a breast and his hand slowed as he reached its fullness. He wanted to cup it, to feel its weight in his palm. With superhuman strength, he pulled away and screwed the top on the bottle of whiskey.
Standing, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Then he whipped his T-shirt over his head and handed it to her. “Your blouse is ruined, but you can wear this.” He wanted to cover up those breasts any way he could.
She tugged it over her head and pull the duster around her. “I’m so sleepy.”
“It’s the whiskey.”
Her eyelashes were light brown and lay softly against her skin as a liquor-induced sleep claimed her. He touched her forehead one more time to make sure she didn’t have a fever. Once he was sure of that, he walked outside to the long porch on the front of the cabin.
He sat on the stoop and stared at the creek and the valley below. If she had a fever, they’d have to leave quickly to get her medical attention. They could probably reach the ranch by noon if they walked at a steady pace. He’d let her sleep for a bit and then they’d start out.
Egan’s emotions were all over the place and he couldn’t think straight when he was around her. He’d never had this problem before. She was making him forget that he’d ever known Judge Hollister. But the memory always returned. Egan would never be able to forgive the man for what he’d done, and that meant he couldn’t have any kind of relationship with his daughter.
Relationship?
Where did that come from? He wasn’t planning a relationship with Rachel Hollister. He just wanted to get her back to wherever she belonged. And that wasn’t with him.
He ran his hands up his face and took a deep breath. It would be a long time before the memory of those dogs clawing at her would fade. He’d been so afraid they would kill her. And that was unacceptable and terrifying. He was glad he’d gotten there when he had. Izzy was going to pay for this one way or another. Egan would call the sheriff just as soon as they made it back to the ranch. Izzy had trained those dogs to kill, and that wasn’t safe for anyone.
Glancing down, Egan saw that his knife was in its sheath. He didn’t even remember putting it there. The handle was covered with blood. He pulled it out and saw that the blade was, too. He got up and made his way to the well. There wasn’t anything to clean it with but water. He scrubbed the dried blood with leaves and that did the trick. Slipping it back into its sheath, he knew he might have to use it again.
“Egan!”
His name echoed through the valley with mind-splitting terror. He ran back to the cabin and Rachel flew into his arms.
“Egan.” She threw herself against him and held on, her body trembling. “I...thought...you’d left me here.”
He stroked her back. “You know I wouldn’t do that. Calm down. You just had a bad dream.”
“Every time I close my eyes...”
“Shh.” He led her to the bed. “How do you feel?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Better now that you’re here.”
“We need to start walking soon.” He checked the scratches and bites on her neck. “Everything looks good.” Touching her forehead, he added, “And you don’t have a fever.”
“Can we stay here a little while longer? I don’t want to go back out there just yet.”
“The sooner we leave, the faster we’ll make it to the ranch.”
She looked down at the scrapes on her hands. “I can’t go home like this.”
“Rachel, you’ve been through something horrific and you need your family.”
She raised her eyes to his and they filled with tears. At the sight, his resolve weakened.
“I need you. I know that sounds crazy, but—” she shook her head “—it’s the way I feel. Please, let’s stay here just a little while longer and then I can face my family.”
The pain in her voice got to him, but he had to be honest. “Rachel, you hardly know me. You’re clinging to me because you’re afraid.”
“I know,” she said in a dejected voice. She got up and walked to the doorway. “Oh, look at that view. I can understand why your ancestors chose this spot.” She walked out onto the porch and he followed. Six deer were at the creek, drinking. Quietly, she eased onto the stoop as if mesmerized by the sight.
“I’d love to paint that,” she whispered.
He sat beside her. “Obviously, you’re an artist, because you seem to want to paint everything.”
“Yes. I teach art in a private girls’ school in New York.”
At that moment, he realized Rachel was way, way out of his league. Yet it was hard to explain the feelings that had ignited between them. They had nothing in common and she was... He didn’t even want to think the words, so he stared off to the creek below.
They sat in silence for a long time, both comfortable with each other, but he was very aware of her breasts pressing against his T-shirt.
Finally, she turned to him. “I’m so hungry.”
“I think I left some canned stuff here. I’ll check.” He went inside and left her to her musings. He found a can of SpaghettiOs and one of ravioli. After opening them, he carried them outside with two plastic spoons.
“We try not to leave anything up here because it attracts foraging animals. Canned stuff is the only thing they won’t drag off.” They sat on the stoop and ate like two kids with a treat.
“This is delicious,” she said. “Or I’m just really hungry.”
“You’re really hungry.” He spooned ravioli into his mouth and it wasn’t bad. “When we were kids, my mom used to buy this by the case. On the ranch, you’re always busy and kids are always hungry. It was a go-to staple.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Six. My mom had seven kids in eight years. Jude and Phoenix were born in the same year.”
“I can’t even imagine that.” Rachel licked the spoon. “Jude and Phoenix were in my class. Jude dated Paige forever. Did they ever get married?”
“No,” Egan said shortly. He didn’t want to discuss his family.
“That’s sad. They were so in love.”
“Mmm.” Paige had chosen a career over love and family. Egan didn’t understand that, but he felt for his brother.
“There was another brother a year ahead of me and he was a bull rider.”
“That’s Paxton.”
“The girls were crazy about him.”
Egan ate the last of the ravioli. “Yeah, Paxton’s a ladies’ man.”
Rachel glanced sideways at him. “Are you?”
“Not close. My mother calls me the loner in the family. I’d rather be out here in these woods than in a crowded room of people.”
She pointed the spoon at him. “You see, I would have guessed that about you. You’re a quiet thinker and Paxton has nothing on you in looks, except his hair is lighter. But personally, I prefer dark hair and serious thinking men.”
The conversation was getting way out of his comfort zone. Egan took the can and spoon from her.
“What are you going to do with those?”
“Bury them so animals won’t be tempted into the cabin.”
“Doesn’t the music keep them out?”
“Not if they smell food.”
A shovel lay on the edge of the porch. He reached for it and walked into the woods. She didn’t panic that he was leaving her, but he could feel her eyes on him. He took his time because he had to gather his thoughts. They were getting too close, sharing too much.
After a few minutes he returned to the cabin, determined to keep things on an impersonal level.
“It’s so peaceful and quiet here. I love it.”
“But it’s far away from what you’re used to.”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her thumb over the dried blood on her jeans.
“Rachel, we need to talk.”
She glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cause your mother’s death, so there’s no reason to fear going home.”
“Then why do I feel this way?”
“You’ll feel differently when you talk to your family. They’re who you need right now. Not me. I’m a stranger.”
Her eyes held his and he felt as if he was swimming in the blue waters of South Padre Island, warm, inviting and irresistible.
“You don’t feel like a stranger to me. I trusted you from the moment I looked into your eyes.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“But I do. You saved my life, and I don’t think there’s anything you can say about yourself that will change my mind.”
There was only one way to change her mind and he had to do it. “I spent time in prison. I’m an ex-con.”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Do I have sauce on my face?”
Exasperation replaced his patience. “Yes.”
With her tongue she licked around her lips. He watched the action as if she had hypnotized him. Desire uncurled in his stomach.
“Could I have some water, please?”
He grunted and went to refill the bucket before he said something he would regret. But this wasn’t over. She had to face facts. They had to start walking soon.
When he returned to the stoop, she wasn’t there. He found her inside sitting on the bed. He handed her the ladle from the bucket and she drank. He was trying his best not to stare at her in his T-shirt. Even after being attacked by dogs, she looked better in it than he ever had.
He set the bucket on the floor. “Rachel...”
“I’m tired, Egan, and I just want to rest.”
“You can’t spend the rest of your life avoiding your family.”
“Don’t lecture me.” Anger coated her words for the first time. He was getting a reaction. That was good. He had to keep pushing.
“I’m not your hero. I’m just a man who got caught up in your life, and the sooner I get you back to your family, the sooner I can get back to mine. And please don’t weave a fantasy around me. I’m not a fairy-tale type guy.”
“I know,” she snapped. “You told me. You’re an ex-con. Do you expect me to run away screeching in terror?”
“No, but I expect you to understand that we need to go now.”
She stretched out on the bed. “But I’m so tired and I feel weak. Please let me rest. Then we’ll do what you want.”
Her voice was low and troubling. He reached out to touch her forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
She pulled the duster around her. “I just need to rest. My nerves are all tied in knots.”
Egan gave up. He couldn’t push her if she didn’t feel well. Glancing outside, he saw the shadows lengthening. It was getting late. Too late for them to start walking. They’d have to spend the night here.
There was an old wooden rocker in the cabin and he pulled it forward and sat in it. “Do you feel sick to your stomach?”
“No.”
“Do you have a headache?”
“No, but you’re giving me one.”
He let that pass. “In a little while I’ll need to put whiskey on the scratches and bites again.”
“Okay.”
She closed her eyes and he thought she was asleep. But then her voice came, soft and inquisitive, “What did you do that you had to go to prison? You’re so gentle I just can’t imagine you doing anything bad.”
“It was a long time ago and I don’t like to talk about it.”
Using her hands as a pillow beneath the side of her face, she got comfy and asked, “How old were you?”
“I was twenty and in college.” He hadn’t meant to answer, but the words slipped out.
“In college, kids drink a lot. Did you do something while you were drunk?”
He hated the memories as bad as anything in his life, but something in him had a need to tell her so she would understand.
“Yes.” That was the only word that came out of his dry mouth, and he hoped she would drop the subject.
“I told you my deep dark secret, so you can talk to me. What we say here stays here.”
“We’re not in Vegas.”
Her lips curved into an enchanting smile. “That would be nice to share with you.”
“Rachel, please stop seeing me as someone you’d like to have a relationship with.”
“Why?”
He had to tell her. It was the only way to stop the fantasy in her head. “I was twenty years old and enjoying college life, like all kids that age. It was the end of the school year and summer beckoned. Celebration parties were going on everywhere. I attended one with my friend and got drunk, way too drunk. He hooked up with someone and I didn’t have a ride home, so these two guys said they would drop me off at my dorm. The next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed under arrest.”
She sat up, her eyes enormous. “What happened?”
“Seemed the two idiots decided to rob a liquor store. They were high on crack and killed the man inside. I was passed out drunk in the backseat. I didn’t really know these guys and had no idea of their plans.”
“But you didn’t do anything.”
“No, I didn’t. Even after the toxicology report came back and showed I didn’t have any crack in my system, only booze, the judge didn’t buy it. My friends at the party testified that I had just gotten a ride home from them. The judge thought I needed to be taught a lesson about how to choose my friends and how to have more control over what I drink. And to be more responsible. He could have given me probation and community service, but he sentenced me to a year in prison.”
“How awful. Oh, Egan, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Before he could stop her she slipped off the bed and onto his lap. He tensed. She’d blindsided him with her reaction and he didn’t want to react. He wanted her to...
Her arms went around his neck and she rested her forehead against the side of his. “That must have been terrible for a young man.”
He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her and the fragrance that lingered in her hair. All feminine. All intoxicating. All he wanted at that moment.
Then from the deepest, darkest part of his soul the words came, words he’d never said to anyone, not his brothers, not his mother, not anyone.
“It was hell on earth. When they drove us into the prison and those big gates closed behind the van, I knew I was in the worst possible place. Everything was taken from me. I was stripped of my clothes, my pride, my life. Then they ushered me down long halls with cell after cinder-block cell. I was pushed into one, and as the steel door clanged shut, I was frightened beyond anything I’ve ever felt in my life. There was no way out. I was trapped like an animal, with other animals who had no qualms about inflicting pain. They called me pretty boy. I made a friend, Jericho, and he saved me many times. But daily I lived in fear for my life. I can’t tell you how that changes a man. I—”
“Shh.” She kissed his cheek. “Don’t relive it. You don’t have to. You’re free now.” Her mouth trailed to the corner of his and he turned his head to meet her lips. He groaned at the sweetness of her and deepened the kiss. His arms tightened around her and the earth stood still as, for the first time, he let someone else share the pain of that time. Allowed someone to console him. She tasted of spaghetti and liquor, and it was the best taste he’d ever had. He wanted more and more and more...
His hand trailed beneath the T-shirt to caress the softness of her breast. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew this was wrong. He had to stop it. Now!
“Rach...”
“How long did you have to stay there?”
He withdrew his hand from her breast. He had to gain control. “My mother hired another attorney and he collected more evidence, damning evidence. The crime had happened in Waco, Texas, and the judge was a visiting one. My lawyer at the time had advised me to let the judge decide my sentence instead of going through a jury trial. My family and I agreed. Being familiar with my family and Horseshoe, the judge should have recused himself. He chose not to. My new lawyer brought this out in an appeal and the original sentence was overturned. I was finally exonerated, the charges were dropped and I was released after three months. But three months scarred me for life.”
“Egan...”
“I’m telling you this so you’ll understand where I’m coming from when I say you and I will never have any kind of relationship. I will get you back to your family, but that’s it.”
She went still in his arms. “I don’t understand. I don’t think any less of you for what happened, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“We’ve known each other for about twenty-four hours now. We should never have met, but sometimes fate is cruel.”
“I know you’re going somewhere with this, but for the life of me I have no idea what it is.”
Egan removed his arm from around her waist and studied the blood under his fingernails. “The judge who sent me to prison to make a point, to teach me a lesson, was Hardison Hollister, your father.”
