Outlaw Hearts(64)

“Maybe.” He rubbed her shoulder, thinking how good it had felt to be with someone who really seemed to care. Her response to him had fed a long-buried need, but had any of it been right, or fair to her?

“Randy,” he said softly, turning on his side to meet her eyes. “This whole thing.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, Miranda saw the pain there. “If last night is all we ever have, I’ll have to be satisfied with that, and I’d never blame you one damn bit for deciding it was a mistake.”

“Jake—”

He touched her lips with his fingers. “I’m not a man to think any the worse of a woman who has needs. One thing we sure as hell have become is good friends, but considering who I am”—he sighed deeply—“the way you look at me, I don’t ever want that to change, and if we take this further, stay together, it will change. I’ll see hatred in those eyes, remorse, despair. You know damn well what life with me would be like. If you want to just pretend last night didn’t happen and feel like you ought to think twice about sharing your bed with somebody like me—”

She grasped his hand. “Do you really think I could go on now as though nothing has changed? Do you think I could forget you, Jake? Pretend that I don’t love you?” She scooted slightly away from him. “I didn’t lie with you just out of some lustful need, Jake. I wanted you, not just that way, but all of you. I wanted to belong to you, give you pleasure in return, make you happy. I wanted to love you, teach you how to love me in return.”

He closed his eyes and turned onto his back, putting an arm over his eyes. “You’d better think real deep on this, Randy.”

She lay on her back, staring up at the canvas and pulling the blanket back up to her neck. “I didn’t come this far without thinking about it, much more than you know. I know what I want, Jake. I know that I love you.”

He let out a kind of hiss. “You’ve had enough tragedy in your life.”

“And so have you!”

“The difference is, there are always going to be men looking for me. I’ve brought on a lot of my own tragedy.”

“No one will know you in Nevada. We could even go all the way to California. You can start over, Jake. I know you want to. You talked about it once. The tragedy in your life—your father brought it on, not you. You’ve got to let go of the past, Jake.”

He sat up, keeping a blanket around his waist. He rummaged through his things to find a cheroot. He lit it, moving then to sit up against the sideboard of the wagon. He smoked in silence for a moment, watching her eyes. “I don’t know if I can let go. It eats at me, Randy, like rust slowly eats up metal. It haunts my dreams at night, brings out the worst in me when I feel threatened, warns me never to allow myself to have feelings.”

Miranda turned to her side to face him, supporting her head with one arm. “Maybe if you talked about it, it would help. I have a right to know, Jake. You started to tell me last night.”

He glanced at her exposed arm, noticing the bruises on it. “Good God, I left marks on you,” he said, disgust in his voice. He stuck the cheroot in his mouth and angrily threw off his blanket. He grabbed his long johns and began pulling them on.

Miranda felt a disturbing heat move through her at the sight of his naked splendor. She wanted him—and she wanted to cry. Again his anger and defense had taken over at the mention of talking about things that hurt.

“I’m sorry about that part of last night,” he was saying. He jerked on the underwear and began buttoning it. “I had no right talking to you like that, grabbing and threatening you that way.”

“Jake, we have a lot of things to talk about, some decisions to make. We can’t do that until you get that anger out of you and open up to me. Please tell me about your father. Talk to me, Jake.”

He grabbed his pants and began pulling them on. “The horses have to be tended to. The poor things have been tied to this wagon all night in that rain.” He pulled up the back canvas flap and looked out. “At least the sky is blue. I’ll get a fire going and heat some water so you can wash and dress.” He climbed out of the wagon.

“Jake, wait!” Miranda held a blanket around herself and scooted to the back of the wagon, where he was untying the horses. “You aren’t going to shut me out again, Jake Harkner, not after last night! I suppose you think it’s all right to get as close to me as you want physically, but that you don’t have to share yourself emotionally! It doesn’t work that way, Jake, not for a woman, anyway. Why don’t you just tell me all of it and let me decide what’s right for me, who I want to share my bed with, as you so crudely put it! Is that how you think of it, as just sharing a bed? I love you, and you said last night that you loved me. Was it a lie, Jake, just to have your way with me?”