Heart of the Hunter (12 page)

“Lee!”

“Leave me alone, Kelly. Please, just leave me alone.”

She sat up, drawing the sheet over her breasts. “Won’t you
tell me what’s wrong? I didn’t mean to…to offend you.”

He groaned low in his throat. “Kelly, it isn’t you.” He took
a deep breath. He could feel her gaze on his back, feel her hurt and confusion.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and take her in his arms,
but he couldn’t.

Kelly McBride had been a virgin when he took her in his
arms. She was still a virgin, at least technically, and he didn’t intend to be
the one to change that. He’d already ruined one girl. He didn’t intend to make
the same mistake twice. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed
to let Kelly go, to back away when he felt the resistance of her maidenhead.

“Lee…”

“Good-night, Kelly.”

“Wait! You aren’t leaving, are you?”

He closed his eyes. Leave, he thought, that was just what he
should do. But he’d come here for the gold and he wasn’t leaving without it.
But that wasn’t the only reason he had to stay. Someone else was prowling
around out there, searching for the treasure, someone who might not be averse
to killing Kelly to get what he wanted. Until he found the gold, or knew that
it was gone, he’d stay and keep an eye on Kelly.

“No,” he said hoarsely, “I’m not leaving.”

And then, before she could ask any more of him, before his
self-control shattered, he bolted from the room and shut the door behind him.

In the hallway, he braced one hand against the wall and
pressed his forehead to the cool plaster. He was shaking all over, trembling
from his need to protect Kelly and the startling, frightening realization that
he was falling in love with Kelly McBride.

Chapter Fifteen

Kelly stood beside the front-room window, watching Lee wax
her car. She had never known a man to work so hard. Lee was like a man driven
by demons. He rose with the sun and didn’t go to bed until long after dark. He
had put a new roof on the house, repaired all the corral fences and the hole in
the barn roof. Every day, he curried the horses, mucked the stalls. He tore
down the old chicken coop and built a new one, then went into Cedar Flats and
bought a dozen hens and a rooster.

Her grandfather had once kept a garden beside the house. Lee
turned the soil under, fertilized it, raked it and planted a variety of
vegetables.

Tomorrow he was going to start painting the house. She’d
already picked out the paint, a dark blue-gray for the walls and white for the
trim.

She’d mentioned once, in passing, that she’d like a brick
border along the walkway that led to the house. The next day, he’d come home
with a truckload of bricks and she now had a nice winding red brick path
leading to the porch.

With a sigh, Kelly left the window and went into the kitchen
to fix lunch. The tension between them was almost unbearable. Lee no longer
took his meals in the house but ate in the barn. He was careful to keep his
distance from her, never getting close enough to touch, never saying or doing
anything that could be considered personal.

She still didn’t understand what had happened to cause the
breach between them. It didn’t make sense for him to be upset that she hadn’t
known a dozen men before him, yet she’d never seen such anger in a man’s eyes,
such a look of betrayal.

And then, like dawn bursting on the horizon, she knew and
wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her before. He was remembering that other
girl, the one who had accused him of rape.

Of course, that had to be it. Kelly grimaced. He was afraid
that because one white girl had accused him of rape, it might happen again.

She experienced a moment of blinding anger that he would
think her capable of such a reprehensible thing and then, as quickly as it had
risen, her anger was gone, deflated by an overwhelming sadness for all he’d
been through.

She made Lee a couple of thick ham and cheese sandwiches,
added some potato chips and pickles to the plate, got a cold beer out of the
fridge and then, taking a deep breath, she carried it outside.

He knew she was there even before he turned around. He could
sense her presence, smell the faint scent of lilac soap that clung to her skin,
the sweet womanly fragrance that was hers and hers alone.

“You’ve been working hard,” Kelly said. “I thought you might
be ready for a break.”

“Thanks.”

He tossed the rag on the hood of the car, wiped his hands on
his Levi’s.

“Looks good.”

He lifted the sandwich from the plate, took the beer from
her hands. His fingers brushed hers. That was all, just the merest touch of her
fingers against his, but his body reacted instantly, warming, hardening with
need.

He could mask the hunger in his eyes, but there was no way
to hide the very visible evidence of his desire.

“Lee…”

“Let it go, Kelly.”

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do. I can’t go on like this.”

He took a long swallow of beer, wiped his mouth with the
back of his wrist. “Do you want me go?”

“No, I want things to be the way they were before. I miss
you. I don’t like eating alone. I don’t like having to watch every word I say.”

“Do you think it’s any easier for me?”

“No.” Her gaze strayed to the telltale bulge in his jeans. “I
know it isn’t. I have needs, too, Lee.”

“Then find someone else to satisfy them.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

He shook his head.
No more white women.
He drained
the beer can, crushed it in his hand.
No more white women.
Kelly might
think it didn’t make any difference and in a lot of places, it didn’t. But here
in Cedar Flats, decent white women didn’t sleep with Indian men. It just wasn’t
done. And even if it had been, she deserved far better than he could give her.

He stared at the untouched sandwich in his hand. He was a
man with a police record. If it weren’t for Kelly, he’d be a man without a job.
He’d almost stolen her virginity. And how did he intend to repay her? By
stealing the gold.

“Here.” He thrust the sandwich into her hands. “You eat it.”

“You must be hungry,” Kelly protested. “You haven’t eaten
since breakfast.”

Lee shook his head, knowing he’d never be able to swallow
past the lump of self-disgust that was threatening to choke him.

“Talk to me,” Kelly urged. “Please. Let me help.”

“You want to help? Then leave me alone, Kelly, just leave me
the hell alone.”

He watched the effect his words had on her, each one slicing
into her like a knife until she stood bleeding before him, valiantly fighting
the urge to cry.

“Kelly, I’m sorry.”

He wanted to take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness,
but he was afraid to touch her, afraid that it would be his undoing.

Kelly squared her shoulders and raised her chin. Pride drove
the tears from her eyes. She looked at him for a long moment and then, very
deliberately, she dropped the sandwich in the dirt at his feet, pivoted on her
heel and walked back to the house. Conscious of his gaze, she didn’t run and
she didn’t look back.

Lee watched her walk out of sight, knowing he had to get the
hell away from the Triple M before it was too late. He had put off searching
for the gold, telling himself that he owed it to Kelly to fix the place up as
best he could before he robbed her. He’d convinced himself she didn’t need the
gold. She had a decent name, a good piece of land, a career to go back to. She’d
be all right and if worse came to worst, she could sell the Triple M for a good
chunk of change. Anyway, she’d get married eventually and her husband would
look after her.

Lee shook his head ruefully. He knew now he’d only been
kidding himself. He’d been stalling because he didn’t want to leave her,
because he liked it here. It was the first real home he’d ever had. He’d left a
part of himself on this land. His sweat and his labor were making a difference.
The ranch didn’t look neglected anymore. For the first time in his life, he
felt a sense of pride in something he’d accomplished with his own two hands.

And as long as he was being honest with himself, he might as
well admit that he’d kill any other man who dared lay a hand on her.

With an oath, he grabbed the rag and began removing the wax
from the hood, hoping that the work would drive Kelly from his mind.

But it was no use. Kelly’s image danced before his eyes, her
curly brown hair the perfect halo for an angel’s face, her lips as pink as a
new rose, her eyes as blue as a midsummer sky.

He stared at his reflection in the hood of the Camaro,
wondering if it was too late to start over. For too long he’d lived under the
shadow of Melinda’s accusation. It had followed him like a bad habit, turning
up to haunt him again and again. Filled with anger and frustration, he had left
home, determined never to return. But no matter how far he ran, he couldn’t
outrun who and what he was.

As far back as he could remember, people had been pasting
labels on him. His teachers had called him a bad boy, incorrigible, wild. Time
and again they’d warned him that he would come to a bad end. As he grew older,
people called him a dirty Injun, a no-account redskin, and he’d proved every
one of them right. Instead of trying to make something of himself when he got
out of jail after he’d been arrested for breaking and entering, he’d left the
state and headed west, the chip on his shoulder as big as the Grand Canyon. He
had no family left, no one to give a damn if he lived or died, and he hadn’t
much cared, either.

He’d spent six years wandering from state to state, working
at odd jobs just long enough to earn enough money to move on. He’d wasted his
time and his money drinking, fighting and gambling, never letting anyone get
close to him until, finally, he’d gotten so disgusted with himself that he’d
gone back home, back to the reservation, drinking himself into a stupor every
night in an effort to forget how miserable he was. He’d spent six months
feeling sorry for himself and then, from out of the blue, he had remembered
something old Frank McBride had said while they were waiting for the police to
arrive.

“It ain’t for you, boy. You’ll never get your hands on that
treasure, not you, nor none of your kin.”

Treasure. That one word had sobered Lee up. He had spent the
next three weeks asking questions, gradually putting together bits and pieces
of stories he had heard as a child, stories the old ones had told around the
campfire, tales of an ancient warrior named Blue Crow who had died protecting a
fortune in gold.

Lee glanced at the mountain that loomed behind the house.
Somewhere in that mountain there was a cave and in that cave was a fortune in
gold. But to take what he wanted meant stealing from Kelly. When he had thought
of her as the enemy, the thought of taking the gold hadn’t bothered him at all.
It was the Lakota way, to steal from the enemy.

But Kelly wasn’t the enemy anymore.

And he didn’t know how he could steal from her and live with
himself afterward.

Chapter Sixteen

Lee stood in the doorway of the barn, his gaze on the house,
the cigarette in his hand forgotten. Now and then he could see Kelly framed in
the window as she moved around the kitchen fixing dinner.

He missed eating his meals with her, missed her nearness,
the conversations they had shared. After his father left home, his family had
rarely sat down to meals together. His grandmother had taken to her bed,
heartbroken that her only son had shamed the family. His mother was usually
barhopping at dinner time, or too drunk to eat. There had been only his little
sister Tanya to keep him company and more often than not he had ignored her,
too caught up in his own bitterness to think that she might be as lonely and
unhappy as he was. He regretted the callous way he’d treated his sister more
than he regretted anything else he’d done in his life. She’d adored him and he’d
repaid her love with indifference.

A light went on in the kitchen, shining like a beacon of
welcome in the gathering dusk. He saw Kelly at the sink, felt the brush of her
gaze over his face.

More than anything, he wanted to go up to the house, walk
into the kitchen, fold his arms around her and bury his face in her
sweet-smelling hair. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for hurting her, beg
for her forgiveness and start over. But the lure of the gold, of the new life
it promised, held him anchored to the ground.

He dropped the cigarette butt into the dirt and stubbed it
out with his boot heel.

A few minutes later the back door opened and he saw Kelly
walking toward him, a cloth-covered plate in her hands.

Kelly’s heartbeat accelerated when she saw Lee silhouetted
in the doorway. The black T-shirt he wore clung to his torso like a second
skin, outlining his muscular chest and biceps. His jeans were so old and faded
they were almost white.

“Fried chicken tonight,” Kelly said, her voice deliberately
cool. “Hope you like it.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Lee murmured. He took the plate from
her hands, but his mind wasn’t on food and when she turned to go, he caught her
by the wrist. “Kelly…”

She kept her back to him, refusing to meet his eyes. “What?”

“I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His voice poured over her, deep and dark and rich, as
enticing as a chocolate sundae on a hot summer day. She wanted to forgive him,
to trust him, but he’d hurt her once, hurt her more deeply than she had
believed possible. She didn’t want to be hurt again.

Resolutely she squared her shoulders. “My dinner’s getting
cold.”

“Fine.”

He dropped her arm as if it were something loathsome. He’d
tried to apologize and she wasn’t having any and maybe it was just as well. If
she didn’t hate him now, she would soon, so maybe it was just as well.