Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 5

Five

Z ach dressed by the dim light of the flickering fire. His trousers were still damp, but he gritted his teeth and pulled them on, figuring they’d soon be even wetter. The pale glow of daylight had pierced the far corner of the cave hours ago, but Bethany had fallen asleep in his arms, and he hadn’t wanted to wake her.

Then, about thirty minutes ago, she’d rolled away from him onto her side, and he’d known he’d run out of excuses to stay. Besides, it would be easier this way. He couldn’t bear to look into her eyes and say goodbye.

He slid into his boots and stood, staring down at his lovely little snow angel for an endless moment, committing her features to memory. With a deep sigh, he turned away and trudged toward the narrow exit, stopping short when he realized the storm was far from over.

They’d been well insulated in their cave. He hadn’t heard the fury of the wind until he was halfway down the passageway. Standing a few feet from the entrance, he stared at the driving snow, which had intensified during the night.

This was no simple winter storm—it was a blizzard of mammoth proportions.

Relief surged through him when he realized it would be impossible for anyone to travel in such weather. Rescue wouldn’t come for days—if not weeks.

His elation was short-lived when he thought of their dwindling supply of firewood. It wouldn’t last through the day, and no matter how appealing the prospect, it would take more than body heat to get them through the next few days.

A shiver snaked down his spine as he contemplated his choices. The only solution seemed to be to trek back to the coach and gather as many supplies as he could. The weather was much worse than yesterday afternoon, but it needed to be done.

It wouldn’t take long, a few hours at the most, and then he could enjoy the rest of his time with Bethany in relative peace. Sighing, he turned his collar up to his ears and stepped out into the storm.

B ethany managed to control her tears and feign sleep while Zach dressed silently behind her. But the moment she was certain he’d left, she let them fall, great sobs of grief curling her into a tight ball of despair.

She understood why he hadn’t said goodbye—it would have been far too hard. Perhaps he’d sensed how much she wanted to cling to him and never let him go. In his arms, she’d felt safe and cherished for the first time in recent memory. Now, loneliness overwhelmed her.

Just thinking about his lovemaking—his passionate, playful tenderness—brought a fresh surge of tears to her eyes. She knew she’d never find such happiness again. She’d spend the rest of her life remembering last night and wondering what had happened to him.

Pushing to a sitting position, she shoved her hair out of her eyes and tried not to think about it. The fire was dying down, and it could be quite a while before anyone came looking for her.

The more she thought about it, the more she wondered how anyone would ever find her in this cave. Would it be wiser to return to the coach?

Standing up, she crossed the cave, entered the narrow tunnel leading outside, and wondered if the sun had broken through the clouds. Before she’d gone very far, she realized something was wrong. Snow spilled into the narrow corridor, and the howl of the wind echoed against the stone.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, she stared outside with growing panic. The snow hadn’t stopped. In fact, it was far worse now than it had been yesterday. She visually traced Zach’s footprints through the deep drifts, wondering why on earth he’d left.

No one was coming for them. Zach would die of exposure before he’d gone more than a mile or two.

She took a step forward, mad with fear, then gasped and shrank back as the cold cut through her. “Oh, Zach,” she murmured, fresh tears filling her eyes. “Come back. Come back to me.”

T he last twenty yards of Zach’s journey yawned before him, seeming like a hundred miles. He was frozen to the bone, exhausted from battling the wind and snow. The thought of lying down, even if it meant never getting up again, sounded better by the moment.

Thoughts of Bethany spurred him on. He’d find warmth in her arms, if he could get there.

After what seemed an eternity, he finally retraced his footsteps to the cave entrance. “Bethany,” he called, stumbling down the narrow tunnel. “Bethany, I need your help.”

She came running, her face lighting up at the sight of him for a split second before her expression turned to one of concern. “Zach! You’re frozen half to death.”

“Grab my pack,” he muttered. “I returned to the coach to get us more supplies.”

He’d bundled more splinters of wood and the entire contents of the coach’s storage box in another rough, woolen blanket, but his arms were so numb he couldn’t lower it from his shoulder. Biting her lip, she struggled to take the heavy weight from his back.

The pack slid off, landing on the cave floor with a clatter, breaking open and spilling its contents all over. Moaning, he sank to his knees, too tired to take another step.

“Throw another p-piece of wood on the fire,” he instructed, his teeth chattering. “I’m s-so c-cold.”

“I thought you’d left for good.” She picked up a few splintered pieces of the coach and carried them to the fire. “I was so worried about you.”

Her concern warmed him, and he fumbled to unbutton his shirt. Before he’d managed more than the top two, Bethany had stoked the fire and was back at his side, brushing his hands away and accomplishing the task with brisk efficiency. She peeled the frozen fabric off his shoulders, then helped him shed his trousers and boots. When he was naked, she wrapped him in one of the warm, dry blankets and urged him over toward the fire.

He hunkered down next to it, uncontrollable shivers racking his body. His feet were so cold he feared he’d gotten frostbite.

“Let me help you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and giving him her warmth. “Oh, Zach. What were you thinking? You could have died out there.”

“We’d h-have frozen without the w-wood,” he explained. “And I found s-some more food. There’s also a coffee pot, some coffee, and a few cups. And can you get me the bottle of whiskey? That m-might help warm me up.”

“Of course,” she assured him, searching through his bundle until she found the liquor. She handed it to him, then stood up with the coffee pot. “I’ll go fill this with snow and heat it up. We’ll have hot coffee. That should help.”

He silently thanked the driver for his stash. Besides the coffee and whiskey, he’d found a loaf of bread, more apples, a dozen cans of beans and peaches, and beef jerky. He’d also found two more blankets and gathered all the wood he could carry. It should get them through a couple more days.

Bethany returned with her coffee pot full of snow and fussed with the fire for a moment, finding a place to heat it. He watched her, still half wondering if he’d really made it back or if this was just a dream and he was dying in the snow somewhere. If not for the pain streaking through his extremities, he would have thought the latter.

“It’s horrible out there.” He took a swig of the cheap whiskey and let it burn all the way down his gut—a strange sensation since the rest of him was still freezing. “We were lucky to find this cave. Coyotes have been at the bodies. They’re barely recognizable.”

Bethany met his gaze with a look of utter adoration. “If you hadn’t come back for me, I would have died.”

“Anyone else would have done the same.” Her gratitude made him uncomfortable. He hoped gratitude wasn’t all she felt for him.

She shook her head with utter certainty. “No. Most men in your situation would have left me without a backward glance and only worried about saving their own necks. You’re a good man, Zach. A very good man.” As she spoke, she moved back into his arms, holding him for all she was worth.

A good man. It had been so long since anyone had looked at him as anything but a killer and a convict unworthy of respect or even common decency. Eyes burning with tears he’d never allowed himself to shed, he pressed his lips against the soft cloud of her hair, shivering from the cold and strength of his emotions.

Bethany held him without speaking until the coffee began to percolate. “Let me get you something hot to drink.” Moving away reluctantly, she bustled around, putting their meager supplies against the cave wall and stacking the firewood near the fire. Then she brought him a hot cup of coffee and a few pieces of jerky. “Eat something,” she urged. “You need to rebuild your strength.”

He took the cup, letting the steam warm his face for a moment before he put it to his lips. The tin was hot, easing some of the chill from his fingertips. “Mmm, thank you, darlin’.”

When she continued to hold out the jerky, he took it, even though he had no desire to eat. Perhaps she was right. The trip back to the coach had sapped every bit of his strength.

Resolutely, he gnawed on the tough, peppery, shoe-leather-tasting meat.

She watched him until she was certain he’d obeyed. Then, she turned away to shake the woodchips out of the new blanket and drape it in front of the fire to dry. “The storm is bad, isn’t it?”

“The worst I’ve ever seen,” he admitted grimly. “The snow is worse now than it was yesterday. Who knows how long it will last? I’m afraid you’re stuck here with me for a while.”

“I don’t mind,” she said as she straightened their pallet. “I’m not in a hurry to reach Texas. I’m glad to have a few more days here with you.”

“I’m glad, too. In fact, when I looked outside and saw it was still snowing, I felt like I’d been granted a reprieve from the gallows.”

She gave him a quick, horrified glance. “They’re not going to hang you, are they?”

He gave a rough laugh. “It was a figure of speech, but it’s not impossible. That’s why I have to leave, eventually. I don’t want to involve you further in the mess I’ve made of my life.”

“What if I want to be involved?” The purity of her earnest green gaze slayed him.

“You don’t even know me. If you did, you’d never say such things. You’d never let me hold you and touch you.”

He’d meant to scare her away, but she didn’t look scared. Instead, she gave him a gentle smile. “I know you, Zach. I know you better than I knew David when we wed.”

He didn’t want to argue, not when he wanted to believe every word she said. And he had to admit what she said made sense. Though he’d known her less than two days, he felt closer to her than he’d ever felt to Hannah. Or perhaps it was just because he’d been alone for so long and their circumstances were so dire.

“I just hope you don’t come to regret being so good to me.” With a sigh, he drank the rest of his coffee and crawled toward the pallet, letting her tuck the covers around him. “I’m going to rest for a while, darlin’. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his brow. “Rest, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.”