California Caress - Page 35

Spurned by that thought, Tubbs started pouring a line of the foul-smelling liquid around the cabin. It took only a few short minutes to round all four sides. The jug was still half-full. He poured most of what remained on the front step. Creeping to the back, he dumped the rest at the foot of the back door. The hens squawked as they saw him dart around the far side of the house, heading for the trees.

Running now, he ripped the cigar from his mouth and threw it at the back door. The kerosene there burst into flames, working around the sides of the cabin in simultaneous lines of fire.

He reached the trees just as the first cry of alarm rang out behind him. His breath was coming in long, hard gasps as he plucked up the rifle from where it leaned against a thick maple trunk. He’d tethered the horses so that the leather straps were freed with a quick flick of the wrist.

Lifting the rifle to his shoulder, he took swift aim at the back hooves of one of the horses. Skittish already, they needed no more prompting to bolt toward the row of cabins.

His arm still ached from the sharp recoil as he primed the weapon again and released the shot at the clouds.

“Indians!” a woman screamed, as she ran from a cabin whose roof had caught fire from one of the many sparks dancing through the sky. “Help! We’re being attacked by Indians!”

Tubbs grinned as he reloaded the rifle one last time and trained the barrel on the panic-stricken woman. Indians! Sure wish I’d thought of it, he chuckled derisively as he pulled the trigger and watched her fall into a clump of bloodied calico.

Taking a deep breath, Hope shifted, looking up until she was captured by his questioning gaze. “The debt’s been paid,” she said finally. The words came out as a ragged sigh. “What happens now?”

Slowly, Drake’s lips curled into a rakish grin. “Are you trying to get rid of me, sunshine?” His timbre hardened, but his eyes remained softly teasing. “If that’s what you’re up to, I might as well warn you it won’t be easy. Or did you forget I still own a piece of your claim?”

Hope stiffened and pulled away from him. The movement was so quick he had no time to stop her as she sat up. “I didn’t forget. But I was hoping you had.”

A hen squawked outside. Hope ignored it. Reaching for her chemise, she pulled it from underneath her wrinkled dress and slipped it over her head. It floated to her hips like a white cloud. She pulled the tangled mane of hair from beneath the cotton in one angry motion and was in the process of reaching for the crumpled remains of her dress when she was stopped by the steely grip that wrapped around her forearm like a snake.

“Don’t do this, Hope. It isn’t fair to either one of us.”

“What isn’t fair?” she asked through a fog of tears. Good God, for a woman who hated crying, she’d sure done a lot of it since she’d met this man! She tried to pull away, but Drake refused to let go. She glared at him. “I’m paying my debts,” she spat, as she wiped the hair away from her face. “You saved my brother’s life and now you’ve been paid for it. What’s so unfair about that? Isn’t that what all this is about? Paying debts?”

“There’s more than that between us, Hope Bennett, and you damn well know it,” he barked.

“Do I?” she turned toward him, angrily brushing away a tear as it fell off her cheek. Goddamn worthless tears! “Then prove it, Drake. Prove it! Call off the rest of the deal. We’re so close to making it now, just give us a chance, for God’s sake!”

Scowling, Drake dropped her arm, accepting her into his embrace when she collapsed against him. He stroked the long satin strands of chestnut hair, and as her tears soaked into his skin he whispered comfort in her ear.

“I don’t want your money, Hope,” he said, when her sobs had finally subsided. “I don’t need it and I don’t want it.” She pulled away from him, her eyes half-filled with the need to believe him, and half-filled with doubt. “Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously. “I thought the money was the reason you agreed to fight in the first place. And why are you looking at me like that? What’s so funny?”

Smiling, Drake tapped his index finger against her frowning brow. “Think, sunshine. You said you have a brain in there—use it. What was my first demand? Before a cut in the take, before the money.”

“You wanted—” Her frown deepened and she shook her head in confusion. “But I thought—?”

“Wrong. You thought wrong.” Tipping her chin up with the crook of his finger, he lowered his mouth to hers. “I think I like you best when you don’t think at all,” he whispered seductively against her lips.

A shiver coursed through her, but it was one completely devoid of passion. “Drake!” she cried, her voice crackling with panic as she pulled away and reached for her dress. “Do you smell it? It’s—oh my God, nooo!”

“Smell wh—?”

Two gunshots cut the early evening air, stopping his words cold. Drake was tugging on his

trousers as the third rang out, followed immediately by the frantic shriek of a woman outside.

Hope stumbled outside, her knees weak with fear as she watched the flames greedily devouring the cabin. Smoke burned her eyes, stinging her nostrils as she tripped over her own feet and almost landed in the mud. Drake’s strong hand steadied her, but all too soon it was gone.

Bare-chested, he ran into the yard, scooping up the wooden bucket as his feet propelled him forward in one smooth movement. Muscles rippled in his shoulders and upper arms, the rain-damp skin glistening in the vibrant flow of crackling firelight.

One of the walls had burst into flames by the time Hope joined Drake at the pump. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks and neck. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated from pure terror as she groped for his arm.

“Help them, Drake,” she pleaded. The words were raw, town from her lungs, thick and cracking with emotion. “Please God, my family is in there!”

Shaking off her arm, Drake ran with the now full bucket and splashed the contents on the rapidly spreading flames. The pungent odor of kerosene was strong here, and Drake’s nostrils flared with the scent of it as he spun on a bare heel and ran back to refill the bucket.

Tags: Rebecca Sinclair Historical
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