"Midnight Sins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leigh Lora)CHAPTER 8“Has he lost his fucking mind?” Crowe Callahan asked Logan the next morning, speaking through the voice-activated link to his cousin’s communications set. Crowe sat on the winter-white snowmobile, the winter camo protective gear he wore insulating him against the freezing wind as he held the matching binoculars to the eye slit of the thermal full-face ski mask. Staring from his position on the snow-covered mountainside, he couldn’t believe Rafe was actually standing out in the freezing cold and smoking yet another of the cigars Crowe and Logan kept trying to convince him to throw away. “Told you,” Logan said as he leaned back, ignoring Crowe’s intense, questioning look. Dressed in identical snow gear, Logan rested casually against the pack strapped to the back half of the seat as the now gently falling snow, the final edge of the blizzard, collected on the protective face mask and shaded goggles he wore. “What’s he doing this time?” The lazy, unconcerned drawl of his voice was distinctly at odds with the worry Crowe had seen earlier in his cousin’s face. Shaking his head, Crowe turned back, lifted the military-issue binoculars back to his eyes, and watched as his cousin leaned against the support post of the sheltered porch below, the cigar clenched between his teeth, tension radiating in the stiff set of his shoulders and the dark glower on his face. “He didn’t close the curtains to the living room,” Crowe mused as Cami Flannigan pulled the man’s long-sleeved white shirt over her naked body after rising from the bed of pillows, feather comforters, and quilts that Rafe had obviously made the night before. Like an animal creating a nest for his mate. Soft, warm, comforting, and protective. The aura of intimacy was so heavy it made Crowe’s back teeth ache in frustrated anger. His baby cousin was making nests, getting intimate, and staring into the stark snowscape furiously. Just before his little lover stalked from the room. Then, Rafe just had to follow the girl. “Really?” Logan rose from his reclined position. “Let me see.” Crowe snorted. “Pervert. She’s left the room now.” “And you got to see her naked?” Logan chuckled. “Hell, man, what made you get so lucky and not me? Can I tell Rafe you got to see his lady naked?” Crowe shook his head in amusement as he lowered the device once again. “That boy’s going to get himself in trouble.” He sighed. “Cami Flannigan is the last woman he should be screwing, especially under the current circumstances.” Especially considering the past and the circumstances of her sister’s death. As the sister of Jaymi Flannigan Kramer, the last in a series of serial rapes and murders twelve years before, Cami was a problem waiting to happen. Crowe and his cousins had nearly gone to prison for it at the time. Because of that, Cambria was the last woman in the world Rafe should even be in the same vicinity with let alone in the same bed. “Hey, I didn’t notice a lot of choice when I was there with him,” Logan pointed out with a hint of laughter. “And I’m sorry, man, but if I was stuck in a blizzard with Cami Flannigan I’d be all about fucking her too.” “Fucking her, not making yourself crazy over her.” Crowe sighed in resignation. You can fuck your women, Logan, without letting your heart get tangled up with your dicks.” “My dick’s untangled just fine, thank you very much, cousin,” Logan informed him with a hint of heavy amusement in his voice. “Matter of fact, it’s about as untangled as a dick can get.” Untangled, Crowe’s ass. Just give it time. Logan was all but hogtied and just didn’t know it yet. Dammit. How the hell was he supposed to protect his cousins’ asses without their help? Crowe stared back at his younger cousin as Logan’s green eyes twinkled back at him. the laughter in his gaze made the dark green depths seem to shimmer. “Really?” Crowe drawled mockingly. “And that little neighbor of yours isn’t putting a kink in it at all, right?” He couldn’t see the frown that pulled at Logan’s brow because of the cold weather mask, but Crowe saw the flash of ire in his cousin’s gaze. “Shut up,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the face mask he wore. Crowe breathed out roughly in resignation before turning back. He lifted the binoculars back to his eyes, and staring down at the two-story ranch house Clyde Ramsey had willed to his nephew, Rafer Callahan, along with the ranch. As Crowe swept over the valley with the binoculars, it didn’t take him long to find the road crew slowly working its way up the mountain toward the ranch. No one might know where Cambria Flannigan was yet, but it wouldn’t be long before her uncle Eddy Flannigan would be the first to figure it out. Shit was going to hit the fan when that happened, and Rafe would be stuck in the thick of it with no way out. Because there was no denying she had spent the duration of the blizzard there. It would be the perfect opportunity for Cami to try for a little revenge where her sister Jaymi was concerned. After all, the rest of her family believed the Callahans had killed her sister; over time, there was the possibility Cami could have been convinced. It would be too damned easy for her to accuse him of raping her, kidnapping her, or performing any other illegal act that could possibly get him thrown into prison. This was just what the hell the cousins needed. Not that the Cami he had known eleven years ago could have done such a thing. But that was eleven years ago and this was now. Who knew how she had changed? And Crowe was a suspicious bastard. They had to returned to Corbin County to find that “something” missing, not to help Rafe find his way into prison. “Did you check out the car?” Crowe asked as he watched Rafe move through the house, the light curtains on the windows giving a clear view into his home. It appeared Rafe had followed Cami for some sort of confrontation. Crowe could have sworn he’d taught Rafe better than that at some point. You never confront a possibly enemy face to face, especially if that potential enemy was female. “I checked out the car,” Logan affirmed. “I couldn’t see anything that suggests the accident was anything but an accident, but the drifts are piled high around it, and digging it out enough to get under it wasn’t high on my list of priorities.” He was wearing military-issue cold-weather gear that would have kept him toasty warm for up to forty-eight hours in the coldest spot in the world and he couldn’t dig through a few feet of snow to check the tires. After the deaths of their parents, Rafe’s uncle, and other suspected enemies of the barons on the treacherous Corbin County roads, Crowe no longer believed in accidents or coincidences. “What is high on your list of priorities, Logan?” Crowe asked absently. He wondered if Logan even understood what direction he was headed in. Or if he had any idea about the woman he was heading in that direction with. Sometimes, that worried Crowe more than the fear that Logan would care about the wrong person too much. His cousin was doing more than simply caring too much. He was on the verge of becoming too involved. Even more so than Rafe. “Tying my dick in knots, unraveling it, then tying it again?” Logan chuckled. “Whatever it takes to stay footloose and fancy-free, Crowe, while having all kinds of fun. What about you?” There were very few things Logan allowed himself to possess or to care about. His home had been in Crowe’s name for years. It was an attempt to keep Logan from giving it the hell away and Rafe had insisted on it. The Harley was in Rafe’s name; the black Denali SUV was in Crowe’s name. The only thing Logan owned, sort of, was the snowmobile, and it was simply in all their names. Logan had a serious problem where owning things were involved. Even he didn’t know why he didn’t want to own anything, and Crowe also hadn’t yet figured out why. “I didn’t hear an answer there, Crowe,” Logan said as he leaned forward, dislodging the snow that had gathered on his shoulders. “Footloose and fancy-free sounds fine to me.” Crowe shrugged. “Seems to me that as long as we’re in Corbin County, footloose and fancy-free is all we have.” It wasn’t as though a future were going to happen with any of the fine ladies in Sweetrock or at the outlying ranches. Too many people knew their pasts. There were too many of the fine citizens of Corbin County willing to follow any and every order the barons gave. The barons. His grandfather, James Corbin Rafer, Marshal Roberts, and Logan’s grandfather Saul Rafferty. The three largest ranch owners and three of the most powerful financial families to reside in Colorado. Their ranches were the size of small countries. Each ranch resided in a different county, but strangely something tied the three patriarchs of these families together. A loyalty and friendship that spanned decades, fluctuating riches, and the temperaments of three power-hungry men. Logan sighed. “There’s always Aspen. Lots of pretty ladies there. Who says we have to pick from Corbin County anyway? Hell, we might get tired of footloose and fancy-free.” There was an edge of regret in Logan’s voice, as though he’d actually had someone in mind. Someone he knew he couldn’t have. Hell, Crowe just hoped it wasn’t who he thought it was. That was just going to turn into a mess if it was. “What about your neighbor?” Crowe looked back at Logan, restraining the knowing mockery in his tone. “She’s not from Sweetrock.” Logan’s eyes widened in shock and male outrage. “That O’Brien girl? Hell no! I watched her tear that builder Ken Stiles’ ass up one side and back down the other a few days ago. Accused him for ten minutes of milking hours on that back porch he was building for her. She was right in his face, that little finger shaking like a weapon, and she was ready to use it.” He gave a mock shudder. “I think I prefer something a little softer. A little less temperamental.” Crowe snorted. “You mean a little less able to kick your ass when you’re acting like an ass?” Who the hell did Logan think he was fooling? “That’s cold, man,” Logan sighed. “So cold.” His eyes twinkled in laughter. “But so fucking true.” “And this weather is fucking cold.” Crowe couldn’t feel the cold; the Thinsulate he wore was military issue and would keep him warm at far colder temperatures. Where he felt the chill was in his spine, a sure sign that things were going to go from sugar to shit soon. And that chill had the power to send ice coursing through his veins. The last damned thing they needed, no sooner than they returned to Corbin County, was trouble. Especially when women were a part of that trouble. “Think we should disturb the little lovebirds?” Logan suggested. Anticipation filled his voice, as did amusement. Logan sometimes seemed years younger than his age. “I think someone should,” Crowe said as he turned his gaze back to the house. “This will be over soon, and when it is, the whole town of Sweetrock will converge on him once they learn where Miss Flannigan had been forced to stay during the storm. I think Rafe could probably use the backup if that happens.” Especially considering the fact Cami’s uncle was a part of that road crew. “Protection is more like it,” Logan retorted. “Talk about a man with his dick and his heart tied up in knots. Our little cuz is there, I believe.” But then Crowe had a feeling Rafe had been there for a while; he just hadn’t been aware of it. There had been too many chance meetings between Rafe and Cambria over the years. Too many near misses. And in the past few years there were too many times Rafe had obviously been watching, waiting, for someone who hadn’t shown. His anger then had gone soul deep. “Well, the road crew isn’t far from finding the car, or making their way to our little cousin’s love nest. I guess the kindest thing we could do is warn him, don’t you think?” Crowe drawled. Logan’s curse sizzled through the line, seconding Crowe’s thoughts and sending a wave of tension to clench his jaw and tighten his muscles. Breathing out roughly, Crowe twisted the handle grip of the powerful machine he’d ridden down from the mountain, listening to the low, carefully muffled power that vibrated through the machine. He’d modified the machines himself, his as well as his cousins’, to ensure the power that vibrated and throbbed through the motors was silenced as much as possible. Worst-case scenario, he would bank the power and speed and run at near silence if absolutely necessary. There were times that more power and more sound could be a life-threatening hindrance. And times that any sound could mean certain death. “Let’s go see if we can help him unknot his dick then,” Crowe said as he gave a hard twist of the opposite grip and shot down the mountain, carefully balancing his weight, watching the terrain and landmarks for known hazards beneath the snow, aware Logan was riding in his tracks. Exactly where Crowe needed him to ride. Crowe had done this all their lives, going first to clear the way for the other two. All but once. Rafe had managed to race ahead of Crowe just one time, and they hadn’t been the only ones who had paid for Crowe’s lack of speed. Jaymi Flannigan Kramer had paid with her life, and her death had left a mark on their souls ever since. “He’s not going to be happy with us,” Logan promised, the wry humor coming through the earpiece he wore as Crowe navigated around the heavy trunks of the sheltering trees. “But he’ll live, and that’s the point.” Actually, that was really all that mattered to Crowe. That Rafe and Logan lived, stayed free, and managed to find some small portion of happiness. Crowe hadn’t been certain that returning to Corbin County was the best way to achieve that, but he knew it would never stop haunting them, that the nightmares wouldn’t cease until they faced what had happened there and the consequences of it. And if he was lucky, very lucky, then Crowe himself intended to face whoever or whatever had begun the events that had destroyed all their lives twelve years before. * * * Rafe paused the coffee cup halfway to his lips as a low muted sound reached his ears. He knew that sound. There were two snowmobiles approaching the house, and he knew the sound of the muffled motors, barely discernible above the sound of the wind howling outside the house. The storm was over, the sun rising to a crisp, icy-cold morning and reports of crews beginning to move out in force to dig out drivers and houses alike from the massive amount of snow that had fallen. That had been hours ago. He was living on borrowed time where his time with Cami was involved. That borrowed time could run out at any time. Any moment. But he’d expected his time to run out with the road crews slowly making their way from the road to the ranch house, with only one purpose in mind, and digging him out wasn’t it. He knew of plenty of times that those same road crews had refused to do more than pile more snow at the mouth of the graveled road that led to the house. He hadn’t expected his time to run out in the form of his cousins’ arrival, though. Especially Crowe’s. Grimacing, Rafe pulled extra coffee cups from the cupboard, set sugar and creamer in the middle of the table, and glanced toward the stairs that led to the second floor. Cami was showering. She had borrowed a razor, and the water in the shower had only just begun running. He might get lucky and his cousins would be gone before she finished. He had a feeling it would be the other way around. His cousins would arrive and wouldn’t leave until after she did. That was more the way things ended up working for him. His fist clenched at the thought of her leaving. At the thought of not holding her in his arms when he climbed into his bed. Of not being there to share that first cup of coffee, even if she was madder than hell at him. And he sure couldn’t use the kitchen table properly if she wasn’t there, he thought with amusement as the snowmobiles moved quickly toward the house. It wasn’t long before the steady, hard throb of power eased into the yard, pulling up to the small area of shoveled show that Rafe had worked on as Cami slept that morning. He opened the door, standing behind the glass of the storm door as his cousins stepped off the low-built machines and looked up at him. He almost frowned. They were dressed in the lightweight, ultra-cold-weather gear that Crowe had managed to procure in the military as he worked in some of the coldest climates in the world. A ride from Crowe Mountain to the house wasn’t long enough and the weather really not cold enough — was it? — for the snow camo outerwear. Rafe stepped back as Logan reached the porch and watched him grip the door handle and lazily pull it open. Even his eyes were hidden behind the dark goggles until he stepped inside, stripped off his gloves, then eased the goggles from his face. He would have to make certain he thanked Logan nicely for slipping out, obviously well before dawn, to inform their cousin Crowe of Rafe’s houseguest. Logan’s dark pine-green eyes were filled with laughter as he stripped the cold-weather gear and hung it carefully on the specially made hanger at the side of the door. Crowe was following suit, but unlike Logan, his eyes weren’t filled with laughter. He was staring around the kitchen and living room carefully, no doubt noting even the slightest change to the rooms since he had been there the week before. “You two are out early,” Rafe stated as he moved back to the coffeepot, slid the decanter free, and set it in the center of the kitchen table, close to the cups, sugar, and cream. “Not early enough, it would appear,” Crowe grunted. “Where’s your houseguest?” Rafe slid Logan a look of promised retribution. “Had to run and tattle, didn’t you, Logan?” “I know; it’s normally your job.” Logan sighed mockingly. “But you appeared to be slacking this week, so I thought I’d help you out a bit.” Rafe almost rolled his eyes. Logan could be the bane of his existence when he wanted to be. There were times that Rafe and Crowe wondered if Logan had ever matured past the age of sixteen. As the middle cousin, he seemed to have inherited Rafe’s father’s sense of practical jokes and teasing games. “’Preciate that, Logan,” Rafe drawled. “I’ll be sure to return the favor soon.” Logan chuckled as he followed Crowe to the kitchen table and the coffee. The two men couldn’t have been more different. Logan had his mother’s dark blond coloring rather than the dark Callahan hair. His skin was bronzed, a trait all Callahan men had, a reminder of their deep Irish roots. His eyes were the same the deep pine-green his mother’s had been. Mina Rafferty Callahan had been slender, delicate, and winsome. Thankfully, her son had only inherited her coloring. The rest of him was pure, tall Callahan. At six feet-two inches tall, powerful and broad, he could be a mean gutter fighter in the face of the enemy or project a charming, teasing familiarity with vulnerable children or frightened women. Crowe on the other hand, was one hundred percent Callahan, from his midnight-black hair to his eagle-fierce golden-brown eyes. His harshly hewn features could never be called handsome, but women gravitated to him like bees to honey no matter where the Callahans went. At the very least, the women moved as close as possible, as though to draw in the aura of danger and the oddly shaped crescent birthmark they all carried on their right hip. He was an inch taller than Rafe, more than two years older than Rafe, and always seemed too determined to watch over and protect his younger cousins, whether they needed it at the time or not. Rafe, on the other hand, was a plainer version. He had the black hair, but he had his mother’s, Ann Roberts’s sapphire-blue eyes rather than the Callahan brown eyes. In looks, the men were more like triplets than cousins, despite Logan’s dark blond hair. Even as infants they had been almost impossible to tell apart until Logan’s hair lightened. Crowe was the image of the Callahan brothers, Samuel, Benjamin, and David. Rafe missed it only in the color of his eyes. They were as close as brothers and sometimes it seemed they shared the same bond triplets did as well. Rafe leaned back against the counter with his own coffee as his cousins poured theirs. Strangely enough, Crowe sweetened and creamed his, while Logan took his straight and black. It always seemed as though it should have been the other way around. It had always amazed Rafe that his eldest cousin could be found adding to the perfectly rich, aromatic taste of the specially grown coffee beans Rafe went to the trouble to buy and grind himself. It was almost a sacrilege, what Crowe did to his coffee. It was the coffee that always seemed to tie them. Since Clyde Ramsey, Rafe’s great-uncle, had taken then in, he had taught them the value of coffee, the kitchen table, and long discussions. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Rafe asked as he arched a brow and brought the cup to his lips, sipping at the coffee and preparing himself. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. Crowe was there because of Cami. “I thought you might need some backup.” Crowe shrugged as he leaned back in the chair, his oddly colored brown eyes sharp as Rafe met his gaze. “What kind of backup do I need?” Rafe could almost feel the tension beginning to tighten at the back of his neck. It was damned foreboding. That sense of coming danger or problems that would result in more trouble than anyone needed. Hell, all he’d wanted to do was try to enjoy the few days fate had given him with Cami. “They’re clearing the snow blocking the road not far from here,” Logan said then. “It won’t be long before they find Ms. Flannigan’s car. And her uncle is in the lead with the plow. Eddy Flannigan isn’t known for his even temper.” Eddy Flannigan simply didn’t suffer fools gladly, and he sure as hell didn’t tolerate so much as an iota of danger where his niece was concerned. Eddy would know, though, that the last thing Rafe wanted would be to hurt Cami in any way. Rafe’s lips tightened in irritation at the thought as he moved to the refrigerator, reached up, and flipped on the police and emergency band radio he kept there. Turning the dials, he tuned into the channel he knew the road crew used whenever they were clearing snow and wanted to keep their conversations more private. It wouldn’t hurt to know ahead of time who else was on that crew and whatever they may have to say. “Sheriff, I hope you brought that rifle of yours,” a voice drawled over the radio. “Eddy may want to borrow it.” “Then why are you laughing, Martin?” Archer Tobias, sheriff of Corbin County, a man who had once, long ago, been a friend, came over the line. “’Cause if that’s Eddy’s niece’s car out there like he thinks it is, then we may get to have a Callahan killin’ after all,” Deputy Martin Eisner came back. “Don’t worry, Eddy, I’ll testify for it. Justifiable homicide.” Rafe glared at the radio. “You want me to break your fucking legs, Eisner?” Eddy Flannigan came back, his voice entirely serious. “Because I can. And I will.” It was obvious the deputy was getting on the wrong side of the smart-assed, wisecracking uncle of Cami’s. “Hell, Eddy, I’m trying to do you a favor here,” Martin snapped. “Those boys work fast, remember? We’ll be lucky if she’s not already dead.” “Let’s not allow our imaginations to get out of control here Martin,” Archer snapped. “Yeah, that’s what your daddy said when Jaymi went missing that night too,” Martin snapped back as the sound of the plow’s motor revved and geared higher. “You saw her car, Sheriff. That tire—” “Martin, concentrate on clearing that snow and let me concentrate on what may or may not have happened,” Archer snapped back, the heavy command in his voice working for a minute. “That’s my job, remember?” But no longer than a minute. “We should call out the National Guard and have them bring the helicopter in. We maybe could use the help against the three of them boys now that they’re back from the military.” Eisner sounded worried, concerned. “Didn’t we hear they were snipers or some shit?” He was obviously only worried about himself. Rafe rubbed at the side of his face in frustration. Son of a bitch, Eisner sounded as though they were facing a full battalion of Callahans rather than just three of them. Rafe knew the deputy well enough to know for a fact that it wasn’t worry or concern he was feeling unless it was for himself. It was pure gleeful anticipation cloaked with a highly false, somber demeanor. “Martin, we don’t need a helicopter,” Archer promised him patiently. “Eddy, take your plow up to the house and I’ll drive your niece home, if she’s ready to go.” “What do you think he means by that, Eddy?” Martin questioned with almost rabid curiosity. “What’s he implyin’?” “That she might want to wait until the tow truck shows up to get her car out of the ditch, Martin?” the sheriff snapped, his patience obviously beginning to fray as the deputy continued to poke at Eddy’s temper. That was never a good idea. Eddy’s temper was short and his fists could be unpredictable. “And see if you can’t manage to run that plow without taking out another fence, Martin.” Eddy’s tone was harsh and filled with disgust. Logan sat up carefully as Crowe’s face tightened, becoming stoney and emotionless at the order Eddy gave the deputy. They’d spent more than a week replacing the old rotted and rusted fence. It was obviously a wasted effort where one fence was concerned. “Sorry about that. I guess ole Rafe Callahan should have put those fences in better, huh?” “I can hear the lawsuits now,” Archer said, his sigh coming across the radio. “And trust me, Martin, I won’t cover your ass on this one.” “Hey, I didn’t see no fence,” Martin’s voice came back slyly. “Did you see a fence, Eddy?” “Yeah, I did, and I’m going to be the one to tell the Callahans’ lawyer what an asshole you are. Asshole.” Eddy informed him, “It’s no damned wonder the mayor put you on probation. If we’re lucky, he’ll get rid of your ass now.” Archer was silent, and that didn’t surprise Rafe in the least. It did surprise him, though, that Eisner was so damned brave in destroying Callahan property. “One of these days that girl is going to get herself in trouble taking up with the stray dogs in this county.” Martin came back with an air of self-importance. “And if I ever seen a dog, those Callahan boys is three of them.” “I just hope for her daddy’s sake she’s okay,” Martin radioed. “It’s too bad how she doesn’t help him much with her poor, sick mother. She’s nothin’ like her sister was, that’s for damned sure. Jaymi would have been there helping her parents.” “Fuck you, Martin! You damned little son of a bitch!” Eddy was pissed now. Real pissed if the tone of his voice was anything to go by. “Get him the fuck out of here, Sheriff, because I’ll show the little bastard exactly what justifiable homicide really is.” Rafe lifted his head and watched as Cami came to a shocked stop at the doorway of the kitchen. Biting off a curse, he moved for the radio to flip it off and keep her from hearing any more of Martin Eisner’s stupidity. She beat Rafe to it. She moved in front of him, staring back at him in determination. “Let me hear what he has to say. That’s one of Dad’s best friends, and he’s not saying anything I haven’t already heard.” The radio crackled again. “Martin, shut the hell up.” Archer’s voice was rock hard and filled with command now. “You’ll shut up or I can make sure you lose this nice cushy job of yours.” It was that edge of worry that had suspicion rising inside him. “Too late to shut him up, Arch,” Eddy came back quietly. “Martin and I will discuss it later, though.” Martin’s mocking laughter came back. “Your asshole mayor didn’t hire me, Archer, and neither did you. Neither one of you can fire me either.” “I guess you were right, Crowe.” Rafe turned to his cousin, anger churning hard and deep inside him. “Selling out is the last fucking thing we need to do. They can just live with us.” He caught Cami’s look of surprise, as well as the worry that edged it. His lips twisted sardonically. Yeah, if he stayed around, that just upped the chances that everyone might figure out she’d been doing the nasty with him, wouldn’t it? He glared down at her. “Don’t worry, Cami. No one will suspect for a second that we spent the weekend fucking like minks, and I’ll damned well make sure of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try to attempt to make sure they don’t destroy the fucking place while they’re trying to rescue you.” Cami stared up at him, her lips thinning. She knew the same thing he, Logan, and Crowe knew now just as well Sherriff Tobias and Eddy Flannigan knew. Obviously one of the barons had hired Eisner. Cami shook her head slowly. “Martin’s James Corbin’s second cousin,” she said quietly as the radio seemed to go quiet. “Well now, doesn’t that just figure. Guess Grandpop is making sure he has his eyes and ears where he needs them,” Crowe drawled mockingly. “Martin is a pain in Archer’s ass,” she said softly. “Ignore it. Archer will take care of it.” Rafe gave a hard laugh. “Do you think he’s going to destroy my property and get away with it?” “Archer won’t let him get away with,” Cami argued. “You’re asking me to let it go?” he asked her coolly. “Eisner isn’t worth going after, Rafe,” she told him firmly as she propped her hands on her hips in determination. “Why?” he asked her again. “Afraid you’ll have to testify?” “I’m not afraid of anything,” she assured him tightly, but he knew better. He could see the concern in her eyes, in her expression. Pushing away from her, he stalked to the door, slamming out of the house and moving to the porch as he watched the plow slowly making its way up the lane. Pulling one of the slim cigars from the pocket of his shirt, Rafe dug the lighter out of his jeans pocket and lit up before leaning casually against the porch post. That was just fine, he thought as one of the plows took out another length of the new fence and barely missed taking out the corner of the old shed that housed Clyde Ramsey’s pride and joy, his shiny dark-green tractor and all its attachments, still covered and looking all but new. No doubt that was the plow Deputy Eisner was operating. Rafe could see the other man, in the glass-enclosed cab seconds later as he used the plow to carelessly push the snow from the driveway. It wasn’t easy going for Eddy. The heavy, wet snow had the motor straining as Eddy pushed it harder than he should have, evidently simply intent on checking on his niece and getting out of there. Eisner, though, he was making it count. Amused mockery filled the deputy’s face as another fence post met the force of the edge of the plow. Rafe glanced to Eddy Flannigan again and watched as the older man shook his head and ran his hand over his face at the next post Eisner tore out. Fury tightened Eddy’s expression as he shook his head angrily a second later. Looking up, Eddy caught Rafe watching, grinned, and shot him the finger. That was Eddy Flannigan. Bastard. Rafe was considerate, he returned the gesture. Then a frown creased the man’s face as Rafe heard the door open, then close behind him. All eyes were watching now. Her uncle’s, Eisner’s, and Sheriff Archer Tobias’. And Rafe knew why. Cami. He could feel her, smell the sweet, clean scent of her. Rafe didn’t move other than to lift the cigar to his lips and inhale slowly as he grinned back at the other man. Eddy wasn’t a Callahan fan, but neither was he an enemy. At least he didn’t poke his nose in their business. At least he hadn’t before now. And he sure as hell wouldn’t be once Rafe filed his lawsuit. His lawyer would be contacting the town soon, Rafe promised himself, because that fence was too far from the center of the lane for it to have been an accident. “I’m so sorry,” Cami whispered behind him. “I’m so very sorry, Rafe.” And she was. He could hear it in her voice, in the low, husky tone of regret, and the echo of sadness. “Sorry’s not going to replace my fence.” He shrugged as though he really didn’t care about the fucking fence, and he didn’t, it was the intent behind it that pissed him off. “Why don’t you just get on out there and let her uncle and boyfriend know you’re safe so that crew can get the hell off my land before they finish destroying it?” “My boyfriend?” Outrage filled her voice. “Just to start with, Rafer Callahan, I do not do boys. And second of which, there’s no one here that I’m seeing.” “And you haven’t been going out with Archer?” He finally threw the accusation at her, amazed he had held it in this long. Her eyes narrowed back at him, the soft gray of her eyes beginning to flicker in anger. “Archer and I are friends, Rafe—” “So were Jaymi and I,” he reminded her harshly. “Or did you forget that?” “Oh, trust me, I’m reminded of it often.” The bitterness that flashed in her eyes surprised him. “What do you mean by that?” he growled, careful to keep his tone of voice low, his demeanor controlled. “Exactly what I said.” She wasn’t nearly as careful about her demeanor. She was all but straight up in his face. The only thing that kept her from going nose to nose with him was the fact that she was half-pint-sized and not nearly tall enough. “Every time I turn around, every time I hear your name, I’m reminded in detail exactly how close you were.” It wasn’t anger glittering in her gaze, it was pain. A sense of loss, and if he wasn’t mistaken, guilt. “Why would it matter, Cami?” he questioned her roughly. “You knew Jaymi and I were sleeping together at the time. I never lied to you.” She wanted to turn away from him, she wanted to rage at him, but she was far too aware of the fact that her uncle, Archer Tobias, and his deputy were still working their way to the driveway. “At least Jaymi was honest enough to have her relationship in public,” he continued as she glared up at him, her fists clenching at her sides. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you trying to accuse me of something, Rafer?” she questioned through gritted teeth. “Why, yes, kitten, I guess that’s exactly what I’m doing,” he informed her bitterly. “At least Jaymi wasn’t ashamed of me. And she sure as hell wasn’t ashamed of being my lover.” “You think I’m ashamed of you?” He could see the anger now, it was glittering in her eyes, flushing her cheeks. “You think I’m not agreeing to your demands because of shame?” “What other reason could you have?” he demanded. “Come on, Cami, you acted as though we barely knew each other at Clyde’s funeral and you cut me off three years ago. What else could it have been if not shame?” “Oh, I don’t know, perhaps it could have been the fact that there are other things I’m not willing to deal with besides whether or not anyone knows what the hell I’m doing?” “Oh, yeah. What?” he snarled, feeling the anger and the lust suddenly rising, pounding through his veins, engorging his dick and burning through his veins. She was almost shaking now. “Fuck you, Rafer!” His lips twisted with mocking anger. “Go home, Cami. I have better things to do than deal with your shame or your fear.” “My anger or fear.” She stepped closer. “Just let me show you my shame and fear.” Rafe didn’t think he had ever been as surprised by a woman as he was by Cami in that moment. She was against him in a second, on her tiptoes, the fingers of one hand fisted in his hair as she pulled his head down, bringing his lips to hers. In that second, he lost the anger, the accusations, and his common sense. Rafe jerked her against him, his lips slanting over hers as he pulled her against him and poured every ounce of the hunger and need burning inside him, into her impulsive kiss. He took control of it. He stole it, and fought to bind whatever part of her that he could to him, whether it be shame, lust, or fear. His tongue stroked against her lips, pushed forward and caressed her tongue, fought with it, and drew the hunger from whatever depths she pushed it to whenever she needed to hide it. No, this wasn’t shame, but he was damned if he knew what it was, or what she was trying to prove. He knew something raged inside her, something dark and angry that the pleasure he gave her seemed to tempt, even as pleasure seemed to burn through those emotions. When he pulled back, releasing her slowly, he watched as her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze seemed rife with regret and a pain that went so deep he froze in shock. “Cami-girl?” he whispered. Sweet Lord, who put that agony inside her? “It’s not shame, Rafer.” She stepped away slowly. “But that doesn’t mean it’s anyone else’s business either.” Turning, she moved quickly away from him and all but ran to where Archer’s black, official SUV finally pulled into the small parking area close to the snowmobiles Logan and Crowe had driven earlier. She jumped into the vehicle, slammed the door, then turned her head, obviously avoiding looking at him now. As though she had pulled a cloak of ice around her emotions, one that went clear to the core, Cami simply stared straight ahead as Archer Tobias drove her out of his life. Cami was leaving again. |
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