Authors: Hannah Howell
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Harrigan heard Ella scream his name and immediately ran toward the sound. He had already gone several yards before good sense returned. There had been fear behind that scream, which meant Ella was in danger. If he charged into camp without thought, he could easily get her or himself killed.
He stopped and took several deep breaths, fighting to calm himself enough so that he could approach with some semblance of caution. After securing the rabbit he had caught to his belt, he carefully checked his weapons, making sure that both his pistol and his rifle were loaded. Harrigan began to creep toward the camp, struggling to be as silent as possible and to remain out of sight. Both proved almost impossible as he drew close enough to see what had prompted Ella's scream of terror.
Easing himself down on his stomach behind some shrubs, through which he had a clear view of the camp, Harrigan clenched his teeth as he subdued the urge to roar out his fury and go for the throats of the two men threatening Ella. The sight of one of the men mauling her and tearing at her clothes while the other watched, grinning broadly in amusement and anticipation, enraged Harrigan so much that he felt short of breath. Guilt was a sour taste in his mouth. He should never have left her alone.
Carefully, he aimed his rifle at the man sitting on Ella and pulling at her clothes. That was the one he needed to kill first and not just because he wanted to. If he shot the other man first, the one attacking Ella could easily have time to put her between himself and the bullet he so richly deserved. It was going to be a difficult shot, one that required as much luck as skill. Although he was not concerned about hitting Ella, for the roughly clad man on top of her was sitting in a way that allowed a clear shot, Harrigan was concerned that he might miss. He had to kill the man with the first shot.
Harrigan licked the sweat from his upper lip as he steadied his aim. He fired and for one tense instant, thought he had missed. The man jerked but did not fall, sitting there and staring at Ella. Then he began to slowly crumble on top of her. Harrigan quickly turned his attention to the other man who was wildly looking around. Even as the second man began to fire his rifle blindly into the dark, Harrigan shot him.
In one clean move Harrigan was on his feet and running into the camp. It took only a quick glance at the second man he had shot to know that he had killed him. He then hurried over to Ella, who was struggling to push the dead man off her body. Harrigan pulled him aside and reached for her, frowning when she made an odd strangled noise and scrambled away from him.
“Ella, it's Harrigan,” he said in a soft, calm voice, and he slowly held his hand out to her. “You're safe now.”
Ella blinked, clutched her torn bodice together and looked around. Her stomach clenched as she saw the bodies. When she glanced down at herself and saw the dark stain of the man's blood on her gown, she moaned, turned away from Harrigan, and was violently ill.
A small, rational part of her mind was aware of Harrigan as he held her while her body shook from the violent retching. She sat limp, unable to think clearly, as he washed her face and helped her into her nightgown. Harrigan wrapped her in a blanket and urged her to sit near the fire. Ella clutched the blanket close and stared at the flames, listening to him remove the bodies from their campsite.
It was not until he sat next to her and put a rabbit on a spit over the fire that she began to break free of the shock that had such a stranglehold on her. She found it difficult to grasp what had just happened. One minute she had been dozing peacefully by the fire, the next she was being mauled by a filthy man, and then it was over, the enemy dead and supper on the fire. It seemed like a very bad dream.
“Where did they come from?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.
Harrigan tentatively put his arm around her shoulders, tightening his hold slightly and pulling her close to his side when she did not resist his touch. “Probably just out on a hunt. I found no horses, just an odd sledlike contraption loaded with animal skins. I think they were just walking by and saw the fire.”
She shook her head. “I think that might be the most frightening part of it. It was all just evil chance.” Ella looked at him, a little startled by the tenderness of his expression.
“I saw no sign that he got what he was after,” he said quietly, the statement holding a hint of a question.
“No, he didn't.” She shuddered. “He just touched me, mauled me some,” she whispered, shivering with remembered horror. “I wish I could have a very long, very hot bath.”
Harrigan touched a kiss to her forehead. “After we eat, I might be able to heat a little water for you so that you can wash up, if that will help.”
“Yes, thank you.” She looked at the rabbit, then gave him a shaky smile. “Your hunt was successful.”
He briefly hugged her. “It was not worth the price you had to pay.”
“You couldn't know that would happen. We haven't seen a single sign of a person since we entered these mountains. You couldn't know that two pieces of filth would appear the moment you left. It was the first time you left me alone in these hills, too. I was so at ease that I was half asleep. That's how they were able to slip up so close without me seeing them.”
“You're just trying to talk me out of my sense of guilt.”
“Yes, because you carry no guilt for this. It was just one of those things that happen, that cannot be planned for or protected against.”
“Why didn't you scream when they first arrived?”
“Because I was already trapped. I was afraid that you would just come running and then be shot. They had seen that there were two horses here and were watching for a companion. I couldn't warn you and I could do nothing to help you.”
Harrigan poured her a cup of the strong coffee and handed it to her. “Were you hoping that I would just stumble by and see them before I got too close?”
“I guess I was,” she replied, feeling the heat of the coffee warm her chilled insides. “They just wandered by, didn't they? Oh, hell, in truth I wasn't thinking too much at all. I saw that I couldn't get away, that I had no weapon, and knew that you couldn't rush blindly back to camp without putting your own life in danger. Once that creature grabbed me, I didn't do any more thinking, which is why I screamed then.”
“Well, you were probably right to think what you did. I did start to run blindly back to camp when I heard you scream. I was halfway here before the voice of reason returned. It was not easy to cling to, either. Not when I saw that pig on top of you,” he added in a soft harsh voice, strong emotion roughening his tone.
Ella stared at him, suddenly wishing she could see him more clearly in the firelight, hearing the feeling behind his words and wanting to see if it was reflected in his eyes and his expression. “I will recover.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I'm alive. I don't believe they intended to leave me that way.”
“Well, I dearly wish I could have saved you from all of the indignities you just suffered, but I can find comfort in the fact that I did save your life.”
She blinked and pulled away enough to look him full in the face. For one brief moment he looked as if he was considering his right to claim that, then he smiled. “There is no need to look quite so pleased with yourself.”
There was the hint of tartness to her voice, and Harrigan welcomed it, for it meant that she was beginning to recover from her ordeal. “I do not like to be in debt.”
“Especially to me.”
“Ashamed as I am to admit itâyes, especially to you.”
She frowned at him for a moment, then shook her head, making a soft noise of disgust. “Men can be so pigheaded.” Before he could reply to that insult, she added, “I think the rabbit is done.”
Ella was a little surprised that she had any appetite at all, but decided that a change from beans and biscuits was enough to stir her hunger. As soon as they had finished eating, Harrigan heated up a small stewpot of water. He allowed her some privacy to wash up, keeping his back to her the whole time. It was not until she crawled beneath the blanket of their rough bed that he began to watch her, and Ella quickly felt uncomfortable beneath that steady, intent gaze.
“I will be fine, Harrigan. Truly, I will,” she assured him.
Even as she said the words, she realized that they really were the truth and not just said to comfort him. It would be a while before the horror of the incident faded, but she was confident that she would recover from the attack. There were two things she could tell herself to ease the horrorâthe rape had not been completed, and she was alive. Repeating these things to herself over and over had already begun to work. She had washed all trace of the man's unwelcome touch from her skin. Now she just had to push the chilling memories from her mind or, at least, end their power to leave her afraid and trembling.
When Harrigan slid beneath the blanket at her side, she tensed, then cursed. She refused to allow those men to make her afraid of any man's touch. As Harrigan cautiously slipped his arm around her waist and tucked her up against him, she forced herself to relax and welcome his closeness. A lot of people might consider Harrigan nearly as great a cad as her attackers, because he had seduced a woman he had been hired to find, but Ella knew he would never treat a woman as those two men had. She had always had the option to tell Harrigan no.
“Where did you put their bodies?” she asked softly.
“Tossed them into a gully and shoved some leaves over them,” he replied in a flat voice. “Don't worry. They're a safe distance away. They won't draw any unwanted visitors our way.”
She shivered a little, knowing he referred to the beasts who were drawn to the scent of blood and death, and snuggled up against him. “And are they
really
dead?”
“Those two will never maul another woman.”
“Do you know, I find that a great comfort,” she murmured, and closed her eyes, praying that she had the strength of will to stop the memory of those men from stealing her sleep as they had so roughly and abruptly stolen her peace of mind.
They would be in Philadelphia tomorrow. Ella still could not believe how Harrigan had announced that chilling fact, coolly, as if he was mentioning that it might rain in the morning. She shifted slightly in the saddle, and surreptitiously rubbed her backside. There was at least one part of her that would be heartily glad to stop riding, she thought wryly. All she had to do to stop that pain was to get off her horse. She wished she could cure the hurt Harrigan was about to deliver as easily.
When he had saved her from her attackers last night, Ella had thought she had sensed some deep emotion in him. Now she was not so sure. If he did care about her, or her well-being, as strongly as she had suspected then, he would now be offering her some chance of escape. Instead, he held her reins tightly, leading her down out of the mountains and straight into Harold's lethal hands. That look that had softened his eyes last night could easily have been a look of triumph, she decided. Harrigan had made no secret of how pleased he was that he had fully repaid her for saving his life.
“Ella, you haven't said a word in hours,” Harrigan said as he led them through the thickly growing trees toward the stage route that would lead them straight into Philadelphia.
“I don't think you want to hear the words that are churning about in my head right now,” she replied.
Harrigan sighed, looking around for a secure place to camp for the night. “Do you want to plead your case again?” he asked with obvious resignation.
“Actually, that snake coiled and waiting in Philadelphia was not really in my thoughts. Mostly, I was defaming your character.” She smiled faintly when he chuckled.
“Something you do with great skill and wit.”
“Thank you kindly. I do my best.”
“Does that look like a good place to camp for the night?” he asked, pointing to a small grassy knoll set among a thin stand of trees.
“Actually, there is one other I would prefer.”
“Where?”
“Wyoming.”
“Not very amusing,” he muttered as he reined in and started to dismount.
She eased her travel-sore body out of the saddle and stretched, rubbing her lower back as she looked around. “I didn't realize it was my job to entertain you.”
Harrigan mused that it might have been better if she had remained silent and distant. “I suppose it would be useless to ask you for your word that you will not try some foolish escape.”
“Escape from Harold is not foolishness, but survival.”
She ignored his muttered curse as she considered her options. Refusing to swear that she would remain with him, would not try to flee, seemed silly when she was so close to her enemy, so near to losing her battle against Harold. Ella knew she should be trying her best to run as fast and as far as she could in the other direction. She also knew she would not do it. The attack last night had left her with a deep fear she could not shake that easily.
“I believe I will stay put,” she finally said.
“Is that a promise?” he asked, eyeing her warily.
“Yes. You have left me alone in these woods only once. Once was enough. I don't want to go to Harold, but I also don't want to meet with any more men like those two last night. Harold is at least a danger I know.”
As Harrigan prepared the fire, Ella tended to the horses. She then took a quick survey of their campsite. The sound of trickling water drew her to some thickly growing scrub brush at the far edge of the clearing. When she saw the small creek, she knew she would be unable to resist its temptation.
“Ella,” Harrigan called, a hint of trepidation in his voice.
Ella realized she had started to leave his sight, edging closer to the water. “There is a little creek right here and I believe I will have a bath.”
“I can understand your wanting to have a good scrub down, but I hope you can understand my reluctance to let you out of my sight.”
“I told you I wouldn't run away.”
“That's not what concerns me. These hills now seem a lot more dangerous than they did when we rode into them.”
Ella grimaced, suffering a swift return of her fear, then tightly grasped at a scrap of common sense. “I will be just on the other side of this brush. It puts me only steps away, yet allows a little privacy.”
“Alright then. Just don't take too long or I might feel compelled to infringe upon that privacy.”
“Understood.”
Ella grabbed some clean clothes and their rapidly shrinking bar of soap, and went to the creek. It was shallow and cold, but she wasted no time in sinking her body into its chilly depths. The wash she had had last night had helped remove the stench of her attacker, but she knew that a good scrub in these clean waters would finish the job.
After rinsing her hair and squeezing out the excess water, Ella stepped out of the creek. She rubbed herself dry with her spare petticoat, dressed in her pantaloons and camisole, and sat down to gently rub her hair dry. She had to decide what to do about Harrigan. It was their last night together and, even if she was able to escape Harold's deadly plans for her, it could well be the last night they would ever share. Harrigan had never talked of his feelings or of a future together, and the only promise he had made was to investigate her claims about Harold.
It was far past time to stop trying to guess what he thought or how he felt and face some hard, cold facts. The only thing she knew for sure about Harrigan was that he desired her. Despite all the time they had spent together and all they had shared, she had not been able to convince him of the danger she was in. He now believed that she felt all of her tales were the truth and had enough of his own doubts to want to investigate Harold, but none of that did her much good. He was still going to hand her over to Harold tomorrow.
Ella sighed. All the facts added up to one truth. She should tell Harrigan and herself a resounding no. No, she would no longer be his lover. No, she would no longer play the game of
let's pretend Harold isn't lurking on the horizon
. And, no, she would no longer love him or try to win his love. If she did not stand back and start treating him like the enemy, she was a fool.
She stood up, picked up her clothes, and started back to camp. A fool was exactly what she intended to be, she decided, as she looked at Harrigan, who had been standing guard on the other side of the scrub brush that sheltered the creek. Pride told her to push him aside, but there was a little idiot voice in her head too and it was louder than the voice of pride. It told her to try one more time, take one more chance.
As if something will miraculously change this time, she mused. As if, while he holds me in his arms for what might be the last time, some lightning bolt will strike him between the eyes and fill him with some wondrous revelation. Suddenly he will know that he loves me. Suddenly he will see Harold for the murderous, greedy
scum that he is. Right. And, suddenly, I will become a tall, buxom blond who turns all men's heads.
“It doesn't look as if your bath relaxed you very much,” Harrigan said as they sat by the fire and he served her some beans and biscuits.
Ella smiled crookedly. She was tempted to tell him that she was carrying on a glorious argument in her head. Unfortunately, she would have to tell him what it was and that would reveal far too much about the sorry state of her heart. It would also make him question her sanity.
“I was just a little disappointed that some meat had not miraculously appeared on the spit to add itself to the beans and biscuits,” she replied.
Harrigan smiled, then began to eat. He did not believe her, but was too cowardly to press her for the truth. Whatever had put the dark frown on her face was probably not something he wanted to discuss in any depth. Tomorrow he would complete the job Harold had hired him to do and he hated it. He was not too fond of himself either. He was sure she was thinking of the same things.
This would be their last night together, and Harold loomed between them like some unbreachable wall. They did not have to talk about him; he was just there. Harrigan knew it was selfish, but he wished that wall was not there, because he ached to make love to her. After tomorrow, he might never have another chance.
The thought of never holding Ella again, of never tasting her passion again, was deeply painful, but Harrigan shied away from examining the why of that. He shrugged it aside as a regret for losing something he so enjoyed. It was a price he had to pay to help his family, and he would recover. If there was one woman who could make him feel so good, so fulfilled and sated, there had to be another. When he had regained all that had been stolen from him, he would look for her. Harrigan ruthlessly silenced the little voice that tried to tell him he was seriously deluding himself.
His problem at the moment was how or even if he should approach Ella. There was a good chance she would react to any advance with pure fury, and he did not want their time together to end that way. Neither did he want to lead her to believe there was still a chance he would change his mind about what he had to do. He ached for her, however, and he was not sure he had the strength to be wise or considerate.
Confusion still reigned in his mind as they cleaned their supper dishes and banked the fire. He watched her lightly braid her hair before she slipped beneath the blanket, then he stripped to his drawers and crawled in beside her. When he realized how closely she was watching him, he inwardly grimaced. He was torn between saying a calm goodnight then pretending he was going to sleep, and kissing her, reaching out unthinkingly for one last taste of the passion they shared.
“Ella,” he said, then choked, not sure what he should say next.
“I know,” she murmured as she reached out to stroke his cheek.
Harrigan had the sinking feeling that she did know, knew far more than he wanted her to. “I should leave you alone.”
“Yes, you should.”
“You can't change my mind.” He began to unbraid her hair, combing his fingers through its silken depths.
“I've known that for a long time.”
“You mean you haven't been trying to change my mind?”
“Not with this, and you are very lucky I am in the mood to ignore the implied insult.”
He laughed shakily, closing his eyes as she smoothed her small, soft hands over his chest. “I feel like a cad.”
“You should.” She began to follow the route of her hands with her mouth, slowly, tenderly kissing his skin. “However, I am neither stupid nor naive. I also have a voice. I could say no. In fact, I know I should say a very loud no tonight.”
“But you're not going to.”
“No. I fear greed has silenced the voice of my pride.” She undid his drawers and slid her hand inside, watching the lines of his face tighten as she stroked him. “Tomorrow you will do something I may well find impossible to forgive. I may even grow to hate you, if I live long enough. But tonight I believe I can push all that from my mind. No, I am certain I can. I will deal with my offended pride another day.”
Harrigan did not have a chance to reply. Ella removed his drawers, kissing her way down one leg then back up the other. When she replaced the enticing strokes of her hand with her mouth, he could only groan his approval of her daring. He slowly sat up, watching her as she pleasured him. He had always preferred to control the lovemaking, but with Ella, he felt no need, was in fact delighted when she was bold enough to take the lead.
Finally he knew he could not continue, that he would reach his release before she did if he did not stop her. He pushed her back until she kneeled in front of him. The soft look of desire on her face, the visual proof that she was stirred simply by making love to him, was almost his undoing. It took all of his willpower not to lie her down and immediately possess her.
He slowly undid her camisole and kissed the tip of each breast as he slid it off her. Then he untied her pantaloons, easing her to her feet as he pulled them off her. She started to sit down again, but he grasped her by her slim hips and pulled her closer, determined to repay the delight she had just gifted him with. The way she welcomed his intimate kiss, opening to him with no hesitation, giving him free will of her body, was intoxicating.
The moment he sensed that her release was near at hand, he pulled her back down, easing their bodies together. Ella's gasp of pleasure as they were joined was like a caress. Harrigan leaned her back over his arm and began to give her taut breasts the attention he had thus far denied them. When he felt her body begin to squirm against him, he held her tightly against him and kissed her. Their cries of release blended in their mouths when, as one, they reached the crest their bodies craved.
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Ella sighed and curled up by Harrigan's side. They had washed up and returned to bed, yet she was only just starting to return to her senses. When he trailed his fingers down her spine and began to caress her backside, she murmured her appreciation and snuggled closer to him.
“Ah, my wild mountain rose, I don't think we'll get much sleep tonight,” Harrigan said, a little astounded at how quickly his desires were returning.
“And were you thinking of sleeping, my dark Irishman?” she asked.
“No, not once you let me know there was something else we could do.”
He smiled when she chuckled. Ella had a sense of freedom he had rarely found in a woman. She was open in her dealings and in her passion. Somewhere in her upbringing there had been a lack of the lessons taught other well-bred young women. He had no doubts about her morals or her ability to be faithful if she promised to be, but she put few restraints on her passion, and held none of the strange notions planted in the heads of so many young women. It would be a very fortunate man who finally put his brand on her.
The knowledge that it would not be him both hurt and angered Harrigan. He almost laughed at his own contrariness. He was not going to claim her, but he was already jealous of the man who would. The only way to stop himself from thinking about tomorrow, or any day beyond that, was to lose himself in the fire he and Ella could ignite, he decided. He would just keep making love to her until the sun came up or they both collapsed from exhaustion.