She broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. “We should get inside. We both need to get cleaned up.”
He nodded his agreement, though he was quite certain he could have stayed here for the rest of the night, kissing her like this, feeling her close to him. She was a balm to his wounds, both inside and out.
How funny to think that he’d ridden into this town hell bent on getting out as fast as humanly possible, and now he was planning on staying for a lifetime. It was strange how fate worked its magic.
A whiff of smoke wafted on the breeze and up from his clothing, reminding him that not all fate had in store would be easy.
Caleb wasn’t deterred. He’d never been on good terms with easy anyway.
Chapter Twenty
Rachel stared at the charred remains of the bunkhouse. In the early morning light, its unsalvageable state was a testament to how close they’d come to losing Foster. The roof had caved in. The skeletal remains of the bunks were barely recognizable. Only the small woodstove had escaped intact.
She looked back at the house. She’d left Caleb sleeping soundly. He’d been exhausted after last night’s ordeal. Guilt wended its way into her thoughts. She shouldn’t have enticed him last night, intent on enjoying him. It was too soon. His injuries had not fully healed. Between their lovemaking, fighting the fire and pulling Ethan out of the well, he had pushed himself beyond his limits.
But the events of last night told her one thing. Despite his fear of small spaces and the pain in his body, he had acted without hesitation to put out the fire and save Ethan. She could count on Caleb to do whatever was necessary to keep her family safe. She stared at the pile of burned rubble at her feet. That was all she needed to know.
The fire had been no random act. Foster had heard noise outside the bunkhouse before the fire started. He’d thought it had been animals rooting around and didn’t pay much attention. It had been animals, but of the human variety. And there was only one person who would stoop to such tactics. The same person who’d jumped an unarmed man in the woods. The same man who’d purposely injured one of her ranch hands.
Shamus Kirkpatrick.
Rachel’s eyes still burned from the smoke and the scent clung stubbornly to her hair. She’d been too tired to wash it last night before crawling into bed and curling up in Caleb’s embrace, thankful for the comfort she found there.
She knew it would be one of the last times she experienced it. After she did what needed doing, there would be little comfort available.
Shamus Kirkpatrick needed to be stopped. He had targeted the bunkhouse because he believed Caleb slept there, likely based on information he’d pried out of Brody, who wouldn’t have realized the consequences of what he’d said. Caleb had become a threat, one Shamus wanted eliminated. And in the process people had nearly died, including little Ethan.
For a brief, idyllic moment, Rachel had allowed herself to believe she and Caleb could face this problem together, but last night proved how wrong she’d been. The time for talk and reasoning had ended. Shamus’s actions left any hope in that regard smoldering in the cinder and ash. The time had come to end this once and for all.
The thought of leaving Caleb was a sharp knife in her heart. She accepted the pain, knowing she had no other choice. Shamus had grown desperate. How long before his attacks left someone dead? And what about when he discovered it was Caleb who owned the land? If he had been intent on eliminating Caleb as a threat before, learning about the deed would only increase his efforts.
Rachel couldn’t take the risk, no matter the cost to her. First, she needed to talk to Brody, convince him to come home, where he belonged. She took one last look at the house and headed north to the closest point where her land and Shamus’s converged. Everett had mentioned seeing him near there the day before. She hoped he’d show up again today.
“What are you doing here?”
Brody slid from his horse and marched over to Rachel when the bird call she had taught him as a child caught his attention. Remaining hidden in the trees and tall grass, Rachel stayed close enough to her own land in case she had to make a run for it if one of Shamus’s thugs saw her. Finally she found Brody as he rounded up a few strays. He did not look pleased to see her, a fact that left a gaping hole in her heart.
“I came here to tell you to come back home.” If she was going to go through with her plan to eliminate Shamus as a threat, she wanted Brody safely out of the way. She didn’t need him getting caught in the middle.
“Well I ain’t goin’, so you might as well go back.” Brody crossed his arms over his narrow chest and tilted his chin at an arrogant angle. He looked so much like Shamus it made her want to cry.