Not bothering to change into her nightgown, she climbed into bed, curled on her side, and watched Rawley glancing around the room.
“You added curtains,” he said unnecessarily.
“I didn’t like the notion of someone peeking in.” After Cole, she’d looked at the world differently, seen all the various ways she could feel violated.
He wandered over. The bed dipped with his weight as he sat and began tugging off his boots.
“It’s hot. You can take off your shirt.”
“You’ll be comfortable with that?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wouldn’t be.”
He pulled it over his head and tossed it to the foot of the bed. After lowering the flame in the lamp, leaving just enough light so they weren’t in total darkness, he stretched out on the bed, raised an arm, and tucked a hand beneath his head. It was such a masculine pose.
Easing over, she snuggled against him, placing her head in the hollow of his shoulder. He brought his arm around her, holding her tenderly.
When she drifted off to sleep, she dreamed of him holding her like this every night for the remainder of her years.
Chapter Twelve
“Did you kill Berringer?”
By the time Rawley and Faith got to the house, Dallas was in his office, looking over some papers. Faith had joined her mother and Callie for breakfast, but Rawley had needed a word with Dallas first.
The man who had raised him leaned back in his chair, planted his elbow on its arm, and stroked his forefinger along his mustache. “She told you.”
Rawley gave a brusque nod and repeated his question. “Did you kill him?”
Dallas got up, walked to the marble-topped table, lifted a decanter, and poured whiskey into two glasses. In spite of the early hour, Rawley took the one Dallas offered him.
“He was still breathing when I left him. Barely.” He downed the contents. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted to put a bullet in him. Instead, I told him if I ever saw him in these parts again, I would. I let him ride out.”
“Do you know where I’d find him?”
Dallas shook his head. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. The last thing Faith and your ma need is to see you strung up for murder.”
“I could do it without getting caught.”
“You’ve never killed a man. I have. It’s not something to be done lightly. I’ve put word out about the man. I get reports on him from time to time. He won’t be courting anyone else’s daughter.”
That wasn’t enough. If Rawley ever crossed paths with Berringer, he’d see to it the man drew his last breath.
He tossed back his whiskey, set the glass on the edge of the desk. “I love Faith.”
Dallas stood still for a few seconds, then nodded. “I know.”
“Not like a sister, not like a friend. I’m going to be where she needs me to be, and if that means I’m not sleeping in this house—to be honest, Dallas, it’s none of your damn business. What happens between Faith and me is between Faith and me.”
Another nod. “For what it’s worth, I’d be damn proud to call you son-in-law.”
“I don’t know if it’s going to come to that. I’m not quite sure how Faith feels about things or if it’s something she wants, but regardless, no one is ever going to hurt her again.”
Rawley had avoided courting or getting involved with anyone because his heart had belonged to Faith for the longest, but he’d always felt too broken for her. But now she was broken, too, and he was determined to see that she mended. If in the end, it took her away from him, carried her into someone else’s arms, he’d find a way to survive. All that mattered was that she was well and happy.
So he asked his mother to let Callie stay another night, and he told Faith that when they were done for the day, he’d meet her at the cabin, that he had something special in mind. He made all the plans, was quite pleased with how they’d turned out.
The one thing he hadn’t counted on was the rain that hit just before he got to the cabin.
