It was also, to Amanda's mind, totally uncalled for. No matter what had caused Jake's anger, she didn't deserve to be treated this way. Dammit, no woman did!
She smoothed her palm down her skirt and took a second to compose herself. She wanted an explanation, and she would get one, but not by getting angry herself. She knew Jake better now, knew that losing her own tattered control wouldn't get her that information. If anything, it would infuriate him more; and that wasn't something Amanda felt safe doing right now.
"I'm dressed," she said, her gaze straying to Jake. His stance was open-legged and stiff, his spine a rigid line from lean hips to tensely set shoulders. His hands, straddling his hips, were balled into white-knuckled fists. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"No."
He hunkered down and picked up one of the knives on the floor. Amanda recognized it as one of the knives he kept concealed in the cuff of his moccasin. The weapon, while not small, was dwarfed by his big copper hand. Silently, she watched as, one by one, he retrieved his knives and replaced them in the strategic sheaths hidden by his clothes.
Only once he was done did Jake turn toward her. The naked fury shimmering in his glare made Amanda take a step back. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a flash of satisfaction momentarily relax his features.
"Get your cloak."
"My—?"
"Cloak." He jerked his chin in the direction of the chair on which her cloak had been draped to dry hours earlier. "Get it, and anything else you brought with you. Then turn around and walk out that door."
Amanda's blood ran cold. Surely she'd heard wrong. "I'm... leaving? Now?"
"Damn right."
Her face paled. Sometime in the last few minutes she'd stopped shaking. Her tremors now resumed with force. Dear God, was he kicking her out? Abandoning her? She didn't want to know. She had to know. "You're not ccoming with me?"
His gaze narrowed. His eyes were sharp with a fury reflected in his biting tone. "Oh, yeah, I'm coming. Or did you forget you hired me to do a job for you? Unfortunately for both of us, I'm a man of my word. I'll see it through. You'll get your cousin back if it kills me, and I'll get..."
"What?" she gulped, not liking at all the ominous way his words had drifted off. "What will you get, Jake?"
"My money. Every last cent of it." He nodded toward the door. "Let's go. The sooner we get that brat back, the sooner I can be rid of you."
Be rid of you... be rid of you... Amanda tried to ignore the way his words cut into her. She couldn't. They echoed in her mind, slicing deeper into her heart each time.
The last few months had been the hardest of her life. She'd suffered hunger, cold, pain and exhaustion at every turn. Deprivation had become a way of life. Not once during all that time had she broken down and cried. She was proud of that. What she wasn't at all proud of was the way her eyes were stinging with unshed tears now.
Why, why did Jake's words hurt so much? Why was the admission he wanted to be rid of her akin to having one of his knives thrust into her chest and viciously turned?
Amanda turned her back so Jake wouldn't see her tears. Snatching up her cloak, she whipped it around her shoulders and tied it sloppily beneath her chin. Then she picked up her saddlebag and hugged it close.
She heard Jake moving behind her, but she didn't turn around to see what he was doing. She couldn't. If she looked at him, if he returned her look with more anger, she would lose what little control she'd manage to retain. Pride forbade her to do that. Pride demanded Jacob Blackhawk Chandler never know how easily he could hurt her.
"Ready?" he asked, his hand poised on the door latch.
Amanda nodded, but didn't move. To do so would have brought her closer to Jake than she could stand to be right now. It was bad enough she could smell his earth-sharp scent mingling with the charred aroma of the fire. Bad enough she could smell that same sensuous scent clinging to her skin and hair. That woodsy aroma, interlaced with her own feminine scent, reminded her of things Jake's fury said they would both do well to forget.
A cold wind blasted through the door when he flung it open. The cloak fluttered around her ankles and the brisk air snuck beneath the hem, caressing her ankles.
Amanda shivered and tugged the hood over her head. She noticed her hair had worked free of its usual plait as she tucked the long strands beneath the hood. She wondered about that, but not too much; she had too many other problems to waste time dwelling on something so trivial. She huddled in the warm, soft woolen folds of the cloak and thought that she'd better enjoy what comfort she could now, because the garment wouldn't provide heat for long. Nor, since the snow had lessened but not stopped, would it stay dry.
Wind kicked the snow over the ground, drifting it against the cabins outer walls. The airy white crystals danced down from the sky. Moonlight glinted off the blanket of whiteness, making the night silvery and bright.
"Well?" Jake asked when Amanda had stepped around him and paused for a moment in the doorway. "What are you waiting for?"
The heat of him invaded her cloak and seeped past the layers of clothes beneath. It was no longer a comfortable feeling, because Amanda could no longer be certain whether the warmth was based in mutual attraction or raw anger. "We should tell Gail and Little Bear we're leaving."
"They'll figure it out."
"No, Jake, I won't leave without telling them goodbye, and thanking them. They've been very good to me."
Amanda tensed when she felt a hot spot near her shoulder. She didn't have to look to know Jake had lifted his hand, that his palm was poised a mere inch from her shoulder. She knew the exact second his hand dropped back to his side; it was the same instant a surge of despair iced through her. God, what had she done that he couldn't even touch her anymore?