Chapter Twenty-Nine

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Rebecca's anger had subsided quickly as she'd sat in a chair in her old bedroom and nursed little Lorelie. The baby was a month old now and her dark hair was thickening on her head. Her eyes were still blue but Rebecca hoped they would become that same green shade her father's were.

Her father. Brantley. The man was back. The shock was beginning to fade but she was still in completely disbelief. Brantley had been gone for nearly a year... she had thought he was dead.

How had he survived? And what had he meant about the gang no longer being a threat? How had he managed a pardon? Had he come back because he wanted a future with Rebecca? Is that why he'd worked to get a 'fresh start'.

Rebecca cursed under her breath. Why hadn't she been able to speak up? She'd been trying to.. she'd been trying to speak, to let Brantley know she was still very much his, but her voice simply hadn't worked.

Then it had worked far too well and she had blurted out that Brantley had a daughter. Good way to run the man off for good. He was probably so scared and so confused now, he'd run miles and miles before stopping for breath.

Rebecca switched Lorelie to the other side of her chest and smoothed her hair from her forehead before pressing a tender kiss to the babes skin.

Whenever Rebecca had let herself dream of a reunion with Brantley, it certainly hadn't gone the way things had gone outside. She couldn't believe that Johnathon had punched Brantley! And then Brantley had attacked Johnathon.. Brantley had seemed ready to kill him.

Rebecca felt a delicious little tremor pass over her as color rose to her cheeks. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't enjoying watching the way Brantley's lithe powerful body had moved with just as much deadly grace as she remembered.

She only wished that witnessing that hadn't had to come at the expense of her brother's face. A small knock sounded on the door just before her mama entered the room, closing the door behind her.

"You have a man waiting in the hall, sweetheart." Her mama's eyes were full of that knowing glow.

"That's Brantley, mama."

"I was able to figure that out for myself. He and your brother seem to have gotten to know each other well."

Rebecca adjusted the blanket Lorelie was swaddled in. "Johnathon shouldn't have attacked him."

"Johnathon loves you and wants to make sure you're safe."

"Brantley wouldn't hurt me," Rebecca insisted.

Isabelle didn't seem quite as convinced. Rebecca could tell the woman was choosing her words carefully. "He is here alive which means that for nearly a year he could have sent you word so you would no longer be mourning his death."

"I'm sure he had his reasons for not doing so," Rebecca countered—and she was real eager to find out exactly what those reasons were.

Isabelle sighed. "He was nothing but polite to me but he also didn't seem to happy that I made him wait in the hall. I just wanted to talk to you..."

"What is it, mama?" Rebecca asked as Lorelie seemed to lose interest in her meal and began to drift off to sleep.

Isabelle came forward and sat on the edge of the bed. She put a gentle but calloused hand on Rebecca's arm. "I made a lot of mistakes as your mother, Rebecca. When your father died, I lost a part of myself as well. I tried so hard to take care of you and your brothers..."

"Mama, you took care of us the best you could. We never blamed you when we went without," Rebecca insisted.

Isabelle smiled but the gesture didn't reach her sad eyes. "But I blamed myself. And then I made the most horrible mistake of all and I used my young daughter as a way to buy myself out of poverty. There will never come a day when I dont' hate myself for what I did to you—knowing the kind of loveless life you lived for so long here."

Rebecca felt her heart twist. "Mama, why are we talking about this? You did what you had to do and I didn't argue. I wanted to help you and the boys."

"That responsibility never should have been placed on your shoulders." The tone in Isabelle's voice made it clear she would except no further argument from Rebecca on the subject. Isbelle's eyes softene as she laid her hand on Rebecca's cheek. "I want you to be happy, sweetheart. I want you to have the life you want, whatever that life may be."

Her mother paused as she looked at the closed door. "If this Brantley is what you want, I won't offer a word against it, and I'll have a talk with your brother. But I don't want you to rush things. I know that you spent a few days in that shack with the man and I know you say you fell in love and I don't want to counter that, however, the truth is, you hardly know him. He is a man who earned himself the title of an outlaw and he chose to run with the ruthless men who took you and hurt you. I'm not saying that Brantley is a bad man, truthfully I hope he is everything that you have built him up to be, but please take time. Truly learn him. You have experienced far too much pain in your life and I don't think I can bear watching you endure any more."

Rebecca didn't know what to say. She knew her mother's words were spoken out of love. Isabelle pressed identical kisses to both her daughter and granddaughter's brows before leaving the room and closing the door once again.

Rebecca rose to her feet. Lorelie was sleeping peacefully in her arms so she carried the girl to the cradle that she had used for the babe while they'd lived here before moving to the cabin.

Fixing her top an smoothing out her skirt, Rebecca swallowed hard and glanced at the door. Was Brantley going to knock soon or was Rebecca going to have to go get him herself?

As if he could read her mind, Brantley's firm knock sounded on the door. Rebecca's heart jumped. Her voice shook when she called, "Come in."

The door opened and there he was. His crisp gray shirt and new black pants were covered in dirt from his tussle in the dirt with Johnathon. His gun belt was slung low on his lean hips and drew her gaze downward, making it a real challenge to force it up to his face.

His lip was split but Brantley was still so rugged, so masculine and attractive that it stole her breath. His dark hair had fallen over his brow and those green eyes were locked on her.

Green eyes that were not guarded or hiding any emotion in this room with her. He was clearly confused and she could also read regret, happiness , and.....lust.

A hungry growl left Brantley's throat. He kicked the door closed behind him and, without a word, he strode across the room in two steps and pulled her into his arms.

Quickly, his hungry lips found hers and they crashed together in a furious passion that stole her breath and made every inch of her body heat with need. Brantley's big hands encased either side of her face, holding her tenderly even in his hunger.

Rebecca buried her hands in his hair, loving the feel of those thick strands between her fingers. Brantley put one arm behind him, laying it low on her back and pulling her closer still.

Rebecca's body molded to him, feeling that hard proof of Brantley's desire pressed against her stomach.

"You're so goddamn small.. perfect," he growled, stooping low to run his lips along her neck, nipping at the tender flesh. Rebecca's legs weakened and she would have fallen had Brantley's strong arms not held her up.

This was her man and she wanted him.

With a groan that seemed painful, Brantley pulled away, his breathing ragged. His brow screwed up as he put a bit of distance between them and held up his hands.

"Talk. We need to talk."

Rebecca was about to insist that she didn't want to talk and leap back at the man to finish what they'd started but her mother's words replayed themselves in her mind. 'Truly learn him,' the other woman had insisted.

She supposed they really did need to talk.

Rebecca went to the armchair and turned it so it was facing the bed. She sat down and motioned for Brantley to sit on the bed facing her.

She watched him move across the room, every inch the predator he'd always seemed. She also noticed that he seemed determined not to glance toward the cradle by the wall. For some reason that hurt her.

Brantley sat down, his knees touching Rebecca's. He took her hands in his and simply stared down at their joined hands. His gaze lingered on her missing finger as his thumb ran across the long-healed wound.

"I'm damn glad this healed up good. I was worried about you."

"It's been nearly a year. There are plenty of ways you could have learned I was okay in that time."

Brantley sighed. He released his hand, reached in his pocket and pulled out a rolled cigarette and a box of matches. Rebecca didn't say a word as he lit the cigarette and took a slow draw off it.

"Where have you been?" Rebecca demanded, suddenly desperate to know why he'd left her to suffer so long. "You know darn well I thought they killed you that night."

"I couldn't send you word, Rebecca. I was still a very wanted man. Every law man there is had my dead or alive poster in their office. I couldn't risk the wrong person realizing I'd sent you word and putting you in a tough situation or getting myself hanged before I was able to finish what I needed to do."

Rebecca didn't think that was a good enough reason but there was nothing anyone could do about it now. What was done was done and the past couldn't be changed.

"Why didn't Hoff kill you?"

"He did." Brantley shrugged. "Or at least he thought he did."

"What did they do to you, Brantley?"

Brantley leaned forward and took her hand. "I don't want to talk about that."

"I want you to talk about it," she countered. "I want to know what happened to you. I want to know why you were gone so long."

Brantley sighed. He lifted his foot and put the cigarette out on the bottom of his boot. "Hoff had the gang beat me enough to kill a man. I don't know how long it went on, I just know it hurt. Then he tied me behind his horse and dragged me at a gallop for a while. Then he untied me, told me goodbye and left. He figured I'd be dead. I should have been dead."

"But you're not."

Brantley's cheeks crinkled as he smiled and those green eyes took her breath. "Remember, Rebecca? I'm as tough as old cow leather."

Rebecca returned the smile. "I remember."

"And I couldn't die just then. I knew that as long as Hoff and the gang were alive and free, you would never be completely safe. I managed to drag my ass to a town and the doc there fixed me up while keeping my identity secret."

Rebecca hesitantly reached for his free hand and Brantley was quick to take her hand and entwine their fingers. "After that I made the decision to go to the US Marshall and make a deal. I helped hunt down the gang and in return I gained a pardon."

Rebecca saw something in his eyes that she realized hadn't been there when they'd shared their time in the shack. It was a haunted expression that made her heart ache for him. Poor Brantley... So many bad things he'd been forced to do simply because Rebecca had come into his life.

"That was a huge risk you took going to the law, Brantley. What if they hadn't wanted to make a deal with you?"

"I would have died," he replied simply. "But it was a chance I was willing to take. It was the only way I might have a future with you."

Rebecca chewed her lip. Did they have a future? She certainly hoped they did. Rebecca was more than willing to bring Brantley into her life and keep him there always with her and little Lorelie—but would Brantley want that.

Rebecca was too much a coward to ask in that moments so instead she asked, "Did you kill them all?"

Brantley nodded, his grip on her hands tightening a bit. "Yes." Then he sighed. "All except one. The law decided that a better punishment for Hoff would be to live in a prison cell for the rest of his life. I reckon that's a punishment worse than death for men like me and Hoff."

Rebecca shook her head. "You're not like Hoff."

Brantley simply brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. That spark shot from her toes to the top of her head. She wanted this man with everything in her... Her body screamed and ached for him. Rebecca was preparing to leap upon him and toss him down in the bed but his next words cooled a bit of her desire.

"Your brother told me Martin was gone."

Rebecca snorted. "I divorced him."

"And he let you keep all this?"

"Plus many of his stocks in the railroad."

Brantley raised a brow. "How'd you manage that?"

"He didn't want me letting people know that he left me in the hands of those men and it was his fault I was mutilated and....well..." Suddenly Rebecca stopped. She'd been about to tell Brantley that Martin didn't want folks knowing she'd been raped and impregnated because of his actions... that was the lie she'd told to Martin to help ensure he'd give her what she wanted.

But if she said such a thing in front of Brantley it was bound to hurt him. And Rebecca didn't want to hurt him.

Brantley nodded as if he understood her unspoken words. "You told him what you had to tell him in order to be free. I'm proud of you and I'm happy for you." He looked around the room, full of ostentatiousness that was all Martin. "You got yourself quite a place here."

Before Rebecca could reply, Lorelie cried out from her cradle. Brantley leaped away like he'd been shot and he all but ran to the farthest corner from the cradle—the corner that was also nearest the door.

Rebecca's hands were shaking as she walked to the cradle and picked up the fussy infant, cooing gently to calm their daughter. The time had come. It was time for Brantley to meet his child.

Rebecca adjusted the blanket Lorelie was wrapped in, kissed the girls brow and took a deep breath. "Okay, Brantley. Are you ready to meet your...."

Her voice trailed off as she turned and realized that Brantley was no longer standing in the corner—Brantley was no longer in the room at all.

Rebecca waited for the hurt but instead it was anger that overwhelmed her. Where the devil had that man gone?

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