Texas Rebels: Egan

“What are you going to do with those?”

“Bury them so animals won’t be tempted into the cabin.”

“Doesn’t the music keep them out?”

“Not if they smell food.”

A shovel lay on the edge of the porch. He reached for it and walked into the woods. She didn’t panic that he was leaving her, but he could feel her eyes on him. He took his time because he had to gather his thoughts. They were getting too close, sharing too much.

After a few minutes he returned to the cabin, determined to keep things on an impersonal level.

“It’s so peaceful and quiet here. I love it.”

“But it’s far away from what you’re used to.”

“Yeah.” She rubbed her thumb over the dried blood on her jeans.

“Rachel, we need to talk.”

She glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cause your mother’s death, so there’s no reason to fear going home.”

“Then why do I feel this way?”

“You’ll feel differently when you talk to your family. They’re who you need right now. Not me. I’m a stranger.”

Her eyes held his and he felt as if he was swimming in the blue waters of South Padre Island, warm, inviting and irresistible.

“You don’t feel like a stranger to me. I trusted you from the moment I looked into your eyes.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“But I do. You saved my life, and I don’t think there’s anything you can say about yourself that will change my mind.”

There was only one way to change her mind and he had to do it. “I spent time in prison. I’m an ex-con.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

Exasperation replaced his patience. “Yes.”

With her tongue she licked around her lips. He watched the action as if she had hypnotized him. Desire uncurled in his stomach.

“Could I have some water, please?”

He grunted and went to refill the bucket before he said something he would regret. But this wasn’t over. She had to face facts. They had to start walking soon.

When he returned to the stoop, she wasn’t there. He found her inside sitting on the bed. He handed her the ladle from the bucket and she drank. He was trying his best not to stare at her in his T-shirt. Even after being attacked by dogs, she looked better in it than he ever had.

He set the bucket on the floor. “Rachel...”

“I’m tired, Egan, and I just want to rest.”

“You can’t spend the rest of your life avoiding your family.”

“Don’t lecture me.” Anger coated her words for the first time. He was getting a reaction. That was good. He had to keep pushing.

“I’m not your hero. I’m just a man who got caught up in your life, and the sooner I get you back to your family, the sooner I can get back to mine. And please don’t weave a fantasy around me. I’m not a fairy-tale type guy.”

“I know,” she snapped. “You told me. You’re an ex-con. Do you expect me to run away screeching in terror?”

“No, but I expect you to understand that we need to go now.”

She stretched out on the bed. “But I’m so tired and I feel weak. Please let me rest. Then we’ll do what you want.”

Her voice was low and troubling. He reached out to touch her forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

She pulled the duster around her. “I just need to rest. My nerves are all tied in knots.”

Egan gave up. He couldn’t push her if she didn’t feel well. Glancing outside, he saw the shadows lengthening. It was getting late. Too late for them to start walking. They’d have to spend the night here.

There was an old wooden rocker in the cabin and he pulled it forward and sat in it. “Do you feel sick to your stomach?”

“No.”

“Do you have a headache?”

“No, but you’re giving me one.”

He let that pass. “In a little while I’ll need to put whiskey on the scratches and bites again.”

“Okay.”

She closed her eyes and he thought she was asleep. But then her voice came, soft and inquisitive, “What did you do that you had to go to prison? You’re so gentle I just can’t imagine you doing anything bad.”

“It was a long time ago and I don’t like to talk about it.”

Using her hands as a pillow beneath the side of her face, she got comfy and asked, “How old were you?”

“I was twenty and in college.” He hadn’t meant to answer, but the words slipped out.

“In college, kids drink a lot. Did you do something while you were drunk?”

He hated the memories as bad as anything in his life, but something in him had a need to tell her so she would understand.

“Yes.” That was the only word that came out of his dry mouth, and he hoped she would drop the subject.

“I told you my deep dark secret, so you can talk to me. What we say here stays here.”