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“I didn’t kill them, Doreena,” he said, sounding almost disgusted.
“Why not?”
The way her eyes snapped, and her curt and harsh tone, had Clint’s guts churning. No, he hadn’t stayed because of the Harmon brothers. He’d stayed because of her, but that didn’t matter. His innermost consciousness, that hidden piece of him that had warned him to keep on riding when he’d seen that pig tearing up the tree, had been right all along. For as much as she protested and said his past wasn’t an issue, the minute it came into question, she believed the worst about him. A heated tussle erupted inside him. Half of him said he should have told her everything. How the only way to keep Nelson Harmon from battering his mother had been to ride with the gang, do everything they told him—a kid of thirteen—to do.
The other half of him said saddle up and ride. She wouldn’t have understood these excuses days ago, and wouldn’t now.
Yesterday, when he’d gotten a closer look at the men and confirmed Drake and his deputy were really Martin and Henderson Harmon, he’d left town, the back way. Neither brother had gotten a glimpse of him. The visit he’d then paid to the two men in the hills had told him all he needed to know.
A sixth sense had him glancing back to Doreena. Pain sat heavy and clear on her face. He hadn’t laid a hand on her, but he’d hurt her as badly as Nelson used to hurt his mother.
Escapades during the years of living and riding with the Harmon brothers bounced about in his mind. It had taken two years to convince the law to listen to him about why he’d gotten involved with the gang. Two years of living in a cell smaller than the pen her prized boar lived in.
Air hotter than the devil breathed burned his lungs, forcing him to let it out. Despite everything they’d done to him, he hadn’t gunned down the Harmons because he hadn’t wanted to look evil in Doreena’s eyes. Bitter, he twirled around and headed for the barn.
“Clint?”
“I gotta go.”
Chapter Six
When he pulled his saddle off the stand, she stood between him and Runner. “What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.” He explained the obvious.
It was a stare down, and try as he might, he couldn’t make her back down. Her eyes never even flickered. Finally, he shouldered past her.
“Where are you going?”
The tremble in her voice hit his heart, making it throb painfully. He tossed the saddle across Runner’s back. His lungs were heavy, as if clogged with thick and clinging mud. He couldn’t lie to her. “To do the job I was hired to do.”
“Will you be back?”
His heart screamed yes, but his head told him to think about it. What would he really be saying if he said yes? He turned to face her. It was a mistake.
She looked so forlorn, so dejected and hurt, and yet so tender and sweet. . He reached out and pulled her forward. It was as if neither of them had any control. Their hands, their lips, their bodies acted without sensible thoughts leading them. The kiss was heated and aching, and made them both more frantic. His hands roamed her, memorizing the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, burning an image into his mind of the most beautiful woman he’d ever know. Ever love. He drank her sweetness, wishing it wasn’t the last time he’d experience such a delicacy. It was more than he deserved, but he took what she offered nonetheless.
With his mind and heart still feuding, he ended the kiss by gently pushing her away.
She looked him straight in the eye, and with tears trailing down her cheeks, squared her shoulders. “I won’t beg you to return.”
“I know,” he whispered.
Straight backed and stiff, she turned and left the barn. Watching her walk away, he fell deeper and deeper in love. It had to be love. Nothing else could go so deep, hurt so severely.
Dobbs appeared then and saddled a horse. Clint ignored the man. If he spoke, the stinging in his throat would make his voice crack.
The man followed as Clint rode out of the barn. It wasn’t until miles later, when sweat coated Runner’s neck that Clint pulled the animal into a walk and turned a steely gaze on his uninvited companion.
Dobbs was a thin man, with knobby knees and sunken eyes, who looked as if he’d never eaten enough to completely fill out. He gave a stiff nod. “Joe’ll make sure there’s no trouble at the house.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“With you,” Dobbs answered.
“I don’t need anyone riding with me.”
“I know.”
Doreena smoothed the folded shirt flat with both hands as she set it back down on the narrow cot in the bunkhouse. This was the tenth morning she’d awoken without Clint gracing the ranch. It was as if she’d lost a major piece of her being. Her heart hung so heavy it hurt to breathe. She had no idea where he was, and had found no answers in town. Drake and his deputy had disappeared a few days ago. No one knew where they’d gone. The cliff dwellers had moved out, as well. Joe was no help, either, claiming he didn’t know why Dobbs had ridden out with Clint.
