Caine's Reckoning. Sarah McCarty
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a long time since I heard anyone’s stomach get excited about jerky.” The humor in his words didn’t linger in his expression. His mouth was set in a straight line and his eyes narrowed. Worse, they were back to studying her in that way that made her throat close. She brought the jerky back to her lap. “I can’t eat with you watching me.”
She expected him to argue or to spit out a “Tough.” She did not expect him, after a brief pause, to hand her his piece of jerky and to turn his attention to the tiny fire. “I don’t want your food.”
“There’s more coming.”
But not for a while. “I can wait.”
“Gypsy, there’s not enough meat on your bones to wait five minutes, let alone an hour.”
Despite the fact she didn’t care what he thought, it stung that he saw her as scrawny. “I’ve always been lean.”
He turned back. “Maybe so, but now you’re in need of fattening up.”
For the slaughter. The phrase cut through her mind. “It’s not your problem.”
“You’re my wife. Everything about you is my problem.”
“We’re not really married.”
She suddenly had his full attention. “Sweetheart, I made a promise to the padre and to God. It doesn’t get more married than that.”
“I meant you don’t have to stay married. You can get rid of me anytime.”
“Really? And here I thought we were hitched for life.”
She gripped the meat so hard, her short nails cut through the tough strings. “They’re not going to let me go.”
“Uh-huh.” He indicated the barely touched meal. “Your stomach will be happier if you eat that rather than play with it.”
“They’ll come after me.”
He took the canteen from her hand and took a swig. She watched his throat work over the edge of the poncho. Watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. Where was his worry? He had to be worried. “James and his friends are not nice people.”
He handed the canteen back to her. When she took it, his hand came up under her chin, tapping the bottom, bringing her gaze up.
“One of these days I want you to tell me how ‘not nice’ they were.”
She shook her head. She would never tell anyone how it was.
He continued as if she hadn’t denied him. “But for now, you just need to know that they are no longer a threat to you.”
She bit her lip. She couldn’t believe that, either. James, Bryan and Carl had enjoyed having her at their disposal too much to just let her be spirited away. And they thought too much of themselves not to take it personally that she had been. Still, Caine had risked his life for her. She owed him at least a warning. “They’ll kill you.”
Unbelievably, he smiled. A genuine smile full of amusement. “They’re welcome to try.”
He didn’t understand. “They won’t be up front about it.”
He dropped his hand from her chin. “Never thought they would be.”
God, he was arrogant. “If you let me go, they’ll leave you alone.”
He picked up a stick and snapped it in two. “If I let you go, you’d have no protection.”
“I could hide.”
“Sweetheart, no matter where you ran, men would find you and you’d be back in bed.”
“I don’t want a man.”
He added small sticks to the tiny fire. “I don’t remember mentioning that you’d be there willingly.”
He fed the fire another stick.
“I won’t be taken again.”
“On that we agree. My wife stays with me.”
He was really stuck on the wife thing. It obviously meant more to him than it did to her.
“I wish you could forget that we married.”
His gaze traveled slowly down her body before taking an equally slow trip back up. She knew she looked like hell, and knew he couldn’t see a thing through the bulky coat, but she still felt like she was standing before him naked, with no secrets and no protection.
“That’s not something I have any interest in forgetting.”
He wanted her sexually. No doubt he relished the fact that she was at his disposal, probably even expected her to just lie back and spread her legs so he could take his pleasure. She glared at him, anger serving as her friend, giving her the strength to say, “I’ll fight you.”
His eyebrow kicked up. “Did you fight them?”
With everything she’d had, which hadn’t amounted to anything in the long run. “Yes.”
His head canted to the side. “Did it do you any good?”
Up until they’d tied her, it had. “No.”
He handed her back the canteen and placed his fingers under the back of her other hand, pushing the food to her mouth. His voice was incredibly gentle when he asked, “Then what makes you think I’m going to be worried about you fighting me?”
Nothing. Nothing at all. She sank her teeth into the meat, gnawing on the realization that what she thought or wanted didn’t matter here any more than it had mattered anywhere else. And with each chew, she was aware of how he watched her. The food coalesced in a hard lump in her mouth. Caine passed her the canteen. She didn’t lift it to her mouth. There was just no way she could swallow anything with his words sashaying through her head. She turned and spat the food into the dirt. His sigh brought her right back around again.
“I can see I’m going to have to change my ways around you if I don’t want you wasting away.”
“You don’t like skinny women?”
“What I like or don’t like is immaterial. I’m married.” He motioned to the food in her hand. “You going to eat that?”
Was he planning on making her? “I couldn’t.”
“Because I made you mad?”
What did he want? A yes? A no? She settled on a shrug.
He took the food from her hand and wrapped it up. It seemed to take him forever to put it away in the saddlebags, though his movements were smooth and efficient. It was just her own sense of time that was off-kilter. A twig snapped in the darkness beyond the small circle of light. Her heart leapt in her throat.
Caine settled back against the boulder, resting his arm across his bent knee, looking so powerful that the rifle propped by his side appeared superfluous.
“Relax.”
“I can’t.”
He sighed and angled his hat down. “What worries you more, them or me?”
Him, definitely him. “You.”
“Why?”
A stark, bold question by a stark, bold man. She licked her lips, debated answering, but there was something about the set of his mouth that made her think he’d force the response. “I know what to expect from them.”
He pulled the saddlebag over to him and fished around in one of the outer pockets. “What makes you think I’m any different?”
She licked her dry lips again, took a sip of water and forced herself to answer. “I don’t know.”
“That would be my point. You don’t know.” He pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper and untied it carefully. “I could