“Finally, Sam was born and I was lucky to be home to witness it. My whole life changed at that moment, I can hardly explain it.” He grinned to himself and my heart did a backflip. “I’d always been a loner as a kid. The lone wolf, they’d call me back in school. I was happiest that way. But once Sam was born and I looked into his blue eyes and looked at Marie and my mother, I knew that somehow, despite everything I’d thought, the tough and dangerous life I’d wanted, I was meant to be a father. A family man. For a while there I even thought about quitting the Rangers. Marie, as you can imagine, was plumb excited about the idea. We thought since we were raising a few horses already that we could turn it into something more lucrative. Leave the violence behind. And I tried.” He paused and rubbed at his chin. “I tried, but there was this battle in Monterey that I had to fight in. One last thing, I’d told her, one last time. Anyway…you know the rest.”
“Do I?” I really was prodding now. “What happened between then and now? How…how on earth did you handle that? How did you survive?”
“We all find ways to survive. There were a few moments where I put the pistol to my head and said a prayer. I don’t know why I never pulled the trigger. Perhaps I was too scared. Too cowardly.”
“Perhaps you had hope.”
He gave me a sad smile. “Darlin’, if I had hope you can bet your bottom that I wasn’t aware of it. There was no hope. There was nothing but hate. Anger. It consumed me. I wanted to help rid Texas of the Mexicans that took me away and the Injuns that killed my family. That’s all I wanted.”
“And you never loved again.”
He grew silent and rotated the spit again. “I wasn’t about to get close to anyone, not in that way.”
I wasn’t about to ask about the other way. I didn’t need to know.
“What does it feel like?” I asked him. “Being in love?”
His eyes darted over to me. “You don’t know? What about Avery?”
I shook my head. “I…I think I was infatuated with Avery. I always had been. He’d been the only person who cared…I thought that’s what love was.” I felt horrible even saying his name but out it came.
“I see,” he said, slowly nodding. “Well, I don’t know. I reckon it’s different for everyone. With Marie it hit me hard and fast like a sledgehammer. It didn’t mean it meant any less. I suppose…” He trailed off. “I suppose other times it comes slowly. Gradually. Sneaks up on you.”
“Like a wolf.”
“Love is a wolf,” he said, the fire dancing in his eyes. “Perhaps that’s why they howl in the dark of night. Love drives them mad like it does to everyone. Fast or slow, whatever way it hits you, love will drive you mad.”
“Does it not seem so silly to be talking about such a thing when we’re out here with the wolves and the monsters in the trees?”
“No, Eve,” he said. “It’s not silly. We’re still human even in the face of beasts, even with our lives at risk. When you’re close to death, love is sometimes the only thing that makes sense in life.”
I was about to tell him that we weren’t close to death when I noticed that beneath his jacket, blood was starting to seep through his shirt.
“Shoot,” I swore under my breath.
I quickly grabbed my boots and slipped them on while noticing that he had taken them off when he put me to bed. There was something so disarming about the image of caveman Jake McGraw taking the time to undo my boots before tucking me in. It melted away some of the ice that had built up inside me.
I made my way over to the packs and brought out what was left of the first aid supplies—gauze, cloth, and tape—and came over to his side.
He looked down at the blood that was seeping through his shirtfront. “I’m fine. Go get some rest.”
“Like hell I will,” I said determinedly.
He grinned at me. “I’m liking your language.”
I didn’t feel the need to apologize for my cursing. I came behind him as he sat on the log and slowly helped him remove his jacket. “Do you have any moonshine left?”
“I reckon there might be some left in the flask.”
He nodded over to the packs and I quickly retrieved it.
“You planning on getting me drunk, Pine Nut?”
“I’m planning on cleaning your wound, Ranger.”
“Ranger? I like that.” He nodded. “I like that a lot.”
“Lift up your arms,” I instructed him.
“Bossy.” But he did as I asked. I carefully pulled the shirt off of him and he immediately started shivering from the cold air.
“I won’t be long,” I said to him, coming around to his side. With his body, such a perfect specimen of a man, I wished it could take all night.
I bit down on my tongue to bring me back into the present and poured a little bit of the moonshine on his wound, wiping it around and getting rid of most of the blood.
“Easy,” he said with a wince. “You want to give me the rest of it? I feel like I might need some liquid courage tonight.”
“Just a moment,” I said. I came closer to him, feeling the heat of his body on one side of me and the fire on the other. I poured a tiny bit more on the wound and dabbed it gently. Jake’s eyes were close to mine, his lips inches away as he watched me working. I couldn’t meet his eyes—I wouldn’t.
I spent far too long pressing the cloth into him, to the point where he wasn’t even wincing anymore. Finally he shifted slightly, the sound of the fabric of his pants sliding across the log, and I felt his strong fingers brush against mine, taking the flask out of my hands.
I breathed out as he moved his head away from me to swallow down the rest of it. He coughed from the alcohol’s burn and I started layering the gauze. I worked slowly, more for other reasons than because I wanted to be gentle. With him so close to me, his warm skin beneath my fingers so surprisingly smooth, I felt like I couldn’t leave his side. I also felt like I couldn’t get closer. I was stuck in some sort of limbo.
“Eve,” he said in a silken voice.
“Yes?” I whispered. The world felt like it was changing around me. I noticed I had moved closer to him, somehow, that I had finished bandaging him already and yet my fingers were resting on his chest, pressing into him. The trees and the sky, they had grown blacker than obsidian, and the only thing lit, the only thing visible, was his bare body, glowing gold in the firelight.
Beneath my hands, his heart was beating wildly.
“Are you scared?” he asked softly. His face had come closer again, his lips near my cheek then near my ear. From the way my skin prickled, the way the hairs on my neck stood up and the shivers that slinked down my spine, I would have to say that yes, I was scared.
But now I didn’t know of what. This fear was new. I was scared of Jake. I was scared of myself.
And I think I liked it. I liked this kind of fear. It was doing curious things to my insides, putting me through a beautiful sort of pain that was so very foreign to me.
“Because,” he said with a gruff voice that warmed my stomach, “the longer you touch me, the more scared I get.”
I bit my lip. “What do you think I’m going to do?” I whispered.
He shook his head once. “No. Not you. You’re too innocent. It’s what I’m going to do. What I want to do. What I feel like doing. And Lord knows how very wrong it is to have these thoughts. Especially about you.”
“I’m not so innocent,” I managed to say, even though I could barely imagine what his thoughts could be about. He’d already kissed me once before. He couldn’t possibly want what I didn’t dare imagine he wanted. Not with me. Not with the inexperienced, young, half-Indian girl from River Bend.
He leaned in until his lips brushed against my earlobe. “You are innocent, just like your name before she ate the apple, that forbidden fruit. And I love it.”