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He pulled back slowly and gave her a look that was razor-sharp in its pain. "You're going to have to get used to it fast, Lainie. Our time is running out."
The words struck her like a slap, brought it all back in crystalline clarity, the pain, the knowledge that this was all they would ever have, all they would ever share. She looked away from him, stared at the log wall through a blur of hot tears.
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. The words, the emotion she'd hoarded all her life, filled her suddenly, swelled in her heart until she felt it would burst. She looked at him and tried to smile. It was a feeble, trembling failure. "I love you, Killian."
He smiled, but it was so sad and bittersweet that it broke her heart all over again. "I know you do, but..." His words trailed off. He looked away, stared at the wall.
It's not enough. She heard his words as clearly as if he'd spoken them aloud. She shivered at the intensity of her reaction. It was an agony unlike any she'd ever known before, so different from the vague pain of never having loved at all. "It's all there is, Killian," she said quietly, forcing the bitter words up her throat.
"Three little words," he said, and there was a caustic edge to his voice that cut through her heart like a jagged blade.
She touched him, made him look at her. "It's more than either one of us ever expected."
The moment spilled out, steeped in silence. She
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waited, breathless and afraid, to hear what he would say, wanting desperately to hear something, anything, that would make the unbearable pain of looking at him go away.
But he said nothing. She deflated, sagged against him, clutching him in shaking arms. There was nothing to say.
Finally he cleared his throat and looked away. "We'd better get going. We're going to have to ride hard to make the Rock by sunset tomorrow."
"Will we make it?"
"Yeah." He shoved a hand through his hair and nodded. The sun-etched lines in his face deepened suddenly, made him look old and beaten. "We'll make it."
Chapter Twenty-six
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They rode hard until nightfall. Even after so many bone-rattling hours in the saddle, Killian sat stiff and erect. Lainie's arms were around him, holding him tightly, though he knew she was exhausted and hurting.
He didn't want to stop, didn't want to face the evening that lay ahead. Thoughts of it swirled through his mind, left him feeling hollow inside. This would be their last night together.
He grimaced and yanked back on the reins, wrenching the bit into the soft sides of Captain's mouth. The horse stumbled to a halt and stood there, panting and wheezing. Sweat was a stinking white foam on the animal's cooper-colored neck.
"We'll make camp here," Killian said.
She pressed against him, tightening her hold until he could barely breathe, and he knew without looking at her that she felt it, too, this debilitating, suffocating sense of nearing the end.
His strength left him in a rush. He bowed his head, sagged forward, molding a big, gloved hand around hers.
They sat that way for what felt like hours. Cold, black night curled around them, spilled out across the desert in an endless cloud of nothingness.
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"I don't want to let you go," she murmured against his ear.
He straightened, tapped her hand a little too roughly. He couldn't fall into this trap, couldn't do this to either one of them. "Come on," he said gruffly, dismounting.
She waited a heartbeat and then sighed, slipping slowly to the ground beside him.
In utter silence, they prepared the campsite. He set up the small tent, cursing under his breath at every pound of the spikes into the hard ground. Behind him, he heard the clanging clatter of supper being started, the crackling hiss of a fire.
He stayed with the horse longer than necessary, brushing the animal's coat, cleaning his hooves, hobbling him down for the night. But finally he couldn't put off the inevitable anymore. Hesitantly he turned.
