Caine's Reckoning

He took the food from her hand and wrapped it up. It seemed to take him forever to put it away in the saddlebags, though his movements were smooth and efficient. It was just her own sense of time that was off-kilter. A twig snapped in the darkness beyond the small circle of light. Her heart leapt in her throat.

Caine settled back against the boulder, resting his arm across his bent knee, looking so powerful that the rifle propped by his side appeared superfluous.

“Relax.”

“I can’t.”

He sighed and angled his hat down. “What worries you more, them or me?”

Him, definitely him. “You.”

“Why?”

A stark, bold question by a stark, bold man. She licked her lips, debated answering, but there was something about the set of his mouth that made her think he’d force the response. “I know what to expect from them.”

He pulled the saddlebag over to him and fished around in one of the outer pockets. “What makes you think I’m any different?”

She licked her dry lips again, took a sip of water and forced herself to answer. “I don’t know.”

“That would be my point. You don’t know.” He pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper and untied it carefully. “I could be a real sweetheart between the sheets.”

Sweetheart or devil, she didn’t see how it made a difference. She took another sip from the canteen, at a loss as how to answer.

“Give me your hand.”

She instinctively tucked it into her stomach. He shook his head, reaching for it, pulling it forward until it stretched between them, palm up like a sacrifice. She tugged. He didn’t let go. The corner of his mouth twitched as he looked up at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”

She watched as he put the brown paper in her hand. It was light and solid. He closed her fingers around it and let her go.

“I figure that will go down easier than jerky.”

Desi propped the canteen on the rock beside her. She parted the brown paper. Inside lay three heart-shaped confections. A fourth, more oddly shaped piece was smaller than the other three. Dark, rich and shiny, they lay like the perfect temptation in her palm.

Chocolate. Dear God, chocolate. She brought the package up close enough to take a deep breath of the heady aroma. It flowed through her system along with the memories of happier times, when she and her sister romped through the family mansion, running from room to room with reckless abandon. Never appreciating how good they had it, longing for the adventure they didn’t know could turn into a disaster. Chocolate had been an expected daily treat. They’d pitched tantrums when they hadn’t gotten it. In their innocence and bliss they’d never appreciated what a luxury it was to have it at all. She touched the irregular fourth piece with her finger. It had several vertical slices. Like someone had chiseled bits and pieces off it over time.

“My mother always swore by chocolate in times of stress.”

She looked up. It was Caine’s chocolate. He had to have been the one to chip off those tiny pieces. It was obviously something he valued and savored. She wrapped the package up, biting her lips against the pain it caused, and handed it back to him. “I can’t take your chocolate.”

Just as calmly he pushed her hand back toward her.

“Why not? Don’t you like it?”

“I love it.”

“As I want you to have it, where’s the problem?”

She didn’t look down as he unwrapped the paper again. “Why?”

“Because you’re my wife,” he said, nudging it toward her, “this is our wedding day and thirty years from now when you reminisce to our kids about it, I’d like for you to have a pleasant memory to pass on.”

She didn’t know what to be shocked by more. The fact that he thought so far down the road or the fact that he thought about her at all. She took two of the whole pieces of chocolate and held them out.

He shook his head. “I gave them to you.”

He said that as if he couldn’t care less about the sweet, except she held the evidence to the contrary in her hand. She tucked her pinky against the chopped piece, running her fingertip across the irregular ridges. The chocolate was dear to him, a prize he savored. “You like it, too.”

“That I do.”

“I can’t take something you value.”

“Why don’t you take a nibble before making a statement like that.”

He was tempting her. With chocolate. A devil in dirty clothes and a battered hat and more muscle than she could shake a stick at. The chocolate began to warm to her hand. Soon it would make a mess. “I don’t want it.”

“Now, that’s a lie.”

She cut him a glare.

“Now what?”

The truth just burst out. “I don’t want to be beholden to you!”

His laugh was unexpected. “Are you telling me all it takes is giving you a sweet, and you’ll be in my debt? Gypsy, it’s going to be darn easy being married to you.”

He was right. If she couldn’t even manage this small courtesy, she was going to be very easy to manipulate. However, now that she’d dug this hole for herself, she wasn’t quite sure how to get out of it. She settled for a blunt, “No.”

He took the two pieces of chocolate. “So maybe if we share, it won’t offend your sense of proper?”

This time the look she cast him was puzzled.

He shook his head. “As much as this might ruffle your sense of how it’s going to be, I don’t want to be at war with my wife.”

So he’d made her a peace offering with what he had, giving her something he valued. Sharing. It wasn’t such a bad way to start things. She took back the smaller piece and replaced it with the larger one.

His left eyebrow went up. He flicked a finger in the direction of the smaller piece. “You’re getting the short end of the stick.”

She didn’t think so. “Maybe I want you to have a happy memory, too.”

Even as she said it, she knew it was true. She might not have had the wedding of her dreams, she might be married to a total stranger, but he’d risked his life to save her twice, and he was her husband. Just in case she lived long enough to think back on this day as a memory, she wanted to see herself as more than helpless debris tossed along the current of her life.

Caine took the candy. One glance at his expression made her glad she’d made the gesture. The harsh planes had mellowed into an expression of satisfaction. He held up the candy like a man making a toast. “To a happy future.”

She noticed he didn’t say together. She touched the broken piece to his whole one. “To a happy future.”

He caught her hand before she could put the candy in her mouth. His fingers wrapped around hers, holding her steady as he leaned in. She watched as his mouth opened. The gleam of his teeth was faint in the firelight. His lips brushed her fingers, firm but surprisingly soft as he took a bite.

“To seal the deal.”