Caine's Reckoning. Sarah McCarty

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      4

      Desi huddled deeper into the warmth of her borrowed coat. She pulled the collar up against her cheeks and watched as Caine hunkered down beside the saddlebags and fished something out of the depths. Firelight flicked shadows over his big form, elongating his silhouette into the deeper gloom between the rocks. Making him more than he was, but more distant, too…

      “You hungry?”

      The question was tossed over his shoulder.

      “I’m fine.”

      He paused. The glance he cast her was knowing. “I seriously doubt that.”

      The shame of that burned to her soul. There weren’t words strong enough to cut him down. She lifted her chin and pulled the cold around her, letting it seep into the well that wedged permanently in her soul. “Nevertheless, it’s true.”

      He took his big knife out of its sheath. The rasp of metal on leather was loud. He opened the packet on the ground. Firelight caught in the blade and reflected back as he brought it down. He took the food and held it out to her. “It’s not too tasty, but it will fill the hole in your gut.”

      She looked at the handful of dried meat, then back up at him. It was going to take a lot more than jerky to fill the hole in her. She let go of the edge of the coat, watching his hands as she reached for the meal. Watching for any sign of meanness. She was hungry, but not hungry enough to be stupid. She stopped halfway there. Caught between hunger and wariness.

      Around them there was only darkness. Just she and Caine trapped in this intimate insubstantial circle of light. Tracker and Sam had gone back to town to get her things. She’d told them it wasn’t necessary, but they’d insisted on some notion that a woman needed her things about her. Maybe a woman did, but her things had been stripped from her long ago, and all she had now was her pride, determination and…her husband. Caine’s fingers twitched and she jerked her hand back.

      She took a breath, eyes locked on his hand. Beyond that twitch of his fingers, he didn’t move.

      “You’d do better to watch my eyes.”

      The low, drawled comment was as startling as the twitch of those fingers.

      She clutched at the neck of the coat again, watching his hand, her heart beating too fast to breathe right. “What?”

      “If you want a heads-up when I’m about to turn ornery, you’d do better to watch my eyes.”

      She had to look then. Caine was watching, no expression on his face, no discernible indication of what he was thinking. Just watching her as if she were some sort of puzzle he intended to figure out. She hated the way that made her feel. Helpless, stupid, easy prey. She snatched the food from his hand, almost whimpering with the stress as her fingers touched his, expecting him to grab her wrist as she grabbed the food. He didn’t move, and his hand stayed where it was even after she had tucked her hand back into the shelter of her body. She forced a normal tone. “What good would it do me to watch your eyes when it’s your hand I’m worried about?”

      “It’d give you that split-second warning that could make the difference between life and death.” He waved to the food in her hand with the knife before going back to the chunk and cutting off another piece. “Eat.”

      Her throat was so dry she didn’t think she could work up the spit to swallow, so she just sat there, huddled by the fire and waited for Caine to turn his attention to something else. She waited in vain. He brought the meat to his mouth and took a bite, revealing strong white teeth and the hint of a smile. He motioned to the food pressed into her middle. “It’s not going to soften up no matter how hard you squeeze it.”

      She wasn’t just squeezing the meat, she had a death grip on it. And he was right. It wasn’t softening up. Feeling like a fool, she brought it to her mouth. She took a bite, chewing it. It was tough and grainy and sat like sand in her dry mouth. There was no way she could swallow it. She chewed until her jaws tired, and it still didn’t soften.

      Caine turned away. Shadows from the fire stretched like dark flames up over his shoulders, blending into the deeper shadow cast by the brim of his hat. He was a very powerful man. She remembered how he’d held off the town, how comfortable he’d been in enforcing his will. Fighting him over food she needed wasn’t a battle in which she wanted to engage him. She glanced down and chewed more.

      A canteen appeared in her line of vision. “This might help.”

      She took it carefully, but without the hesitation of before, which made her feel better. She hadn’t become a total coward.

      The water was cool and fresh. He must have refilled it before the others left, because not at any point since had she been left alone. The meat softened, and she swallowed. Her stomach rumbled with eagerness as the small bit of food landed. Caine’s laugh hit her pride like a blow.

      “Been a long time since I heard anyone’s stomach get excited about jerky.” The humor in his words didn’t linger in his expression. His mouth was set in a straight line and his eyes narrowed. Worse, they were back to studying her in that way that made her throat close. She brought the jerky back to her lap. “I can’t eat with you watching me.”

      She expected him to argue or to spit out a “Tough.” She did not expect him, after a brief pause, to hand her his piece of jerky and to turn his attention to the tiny fire. “I don’t want your food.”

      “There’s more coming.”

      But not for a while. “I can wait.”

      “Gypsy, there’s not enough meat on your bones to wait five minutes, let alone an hour.”

      Despite the fact she didn’t care what he thought, it stung that he saw her as scrawny. “I’ve always been lean.”

      He turned back. “Maybe so, but now you’re in need of fattening up.”

      For the slaughter. The phrase cut through her mind. “It’s not your problem.”

      “You’re my wife. Everything about you is my problem.”

      “We’re not really married.”

      She suddenly had his full attention. “Sweetheart, I made a promise to the padre and to God. It doesn’t get more married than that.”

      “I meant you don’t have to stay married. You can get rid of me anytime.”

      “Really? And here I thought we were hitched for life.”

      She gripped the meat so hard, her short nails cut through the tough strings. “They’re not going to let me go.”