started to crumple forward.
Ben wrapped calloused hands on her bare shoulders. Her skin burned with the heat of a fever now. He eased her back against the pillows.
Rachel’s breathing was ragged. “I really must leave.”
She was weaker than a kitten and it took only a slight nudge to settle her.
“Lady, only a fool or a runaway would try to leave in your condition,” Ben said evenly. “So tell me, which are you?”
Chapter Five
“I’m not a runaway,” Rachel said, feeling the color drain from her face. She shrank back against the pillows. “I—I just don’t want to be a bother.”
“You’re not a bother,” Ida said brusquely.
Callie nodded her agreement. “We love to have visitors in town. We’re fairly isolated out here.”
Ben stood silent. His hair disheveled, dark stubble covering his square jaw. He looked like a pirate.
His sharp gaze cut into her, as if he were peeling away her protective layers and looking into her soul. This man was a hunter. He missed little.
She’d have to tread carefully. “I’m not used to being pampered,” she said, trying to add strength to her words.
“Tough,” he said. “Ida and Callie, see that she doesn’t get out of that bed.”
The women nodded. “She’s not going anywhere until her cheeks aren’t so flushed,” Ida said.
“And that fever is gone,” Callie said. “Yaupon tea and rest is what she needs.”
“Callie, lets get to town and fetch more tea and herbs,” Ida said. “We’ll be back in a hour or so.”
Rachel could have protested, but no one would have listened. And the truth was, they were right. She was too sick to travel.
Ben thanked his aunt and cousin and escorted them to the door. She listened to his steady purposeful steps echo in the house. Having him close made her feel safe.
When he returned, he went to the hearth. Squatting, he took the black iron and shoved it into the glowing logs. Sparks flicked up the chimney. He tossed a fresh log onto the flames.
His well-muscled shoulders strained against his woolen shirt. She’d had a taste of his power last night when he’d carried her in his arms. She’d been exhausted and had melted against him. She’d felt protected in his arms.
“Ida is worried you are trouble,” he said.
Rachel moistened her lips. “I know.”
“The Anna St. Claire is known for her rough crew. It’s no place for a lady.”
Tension tingled through her tired muscles. “As I said before, it was expedient.”
Deliberately he replaced the iron and rose. He faced her. “Are you wanted by the law?”
Her heart slammed into her ribs. “No.”
He studied her so intently, her cheeks, flushed with fever, paled a fraction. Lord, but her head was swimming.
“So if I telegrammed the sheriff in Elizabeth City, he’d not have heard of you?”
She sat up so fast, her stomach lurched and her sheet fell. Quickly she groped at its edges. The cool morning air had made her nipples harden into soft peaks. “Don’t do that!”
Ben dropped his gaze while she righted her sheet. “Davis is your last name.”
Was that the name she’d given last night? “Yes.”
A humorless smiled curved the edges of his lips. “Davis. A solid American name.”
Ordinary is what he meant to say. But that was why she must have chosen it. She wanted to blend in—to be one of a million faceless people that no one gave a second glance.
“Rachel Davis.” The name sounded seductive, far from ordinary, when he spoke it.
Her head pounded and all she wanted to do was to lose herself in the blankets. “Yes.”
“Where are you from?”
Hadn’t he asked her that question last night? Details would be her downfall if she wasn’t careful. With her senses so befuddled now, she’d never remember the lies she spun. “A small town. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”
A gentleman would have taken her subtle hint and dropped the subject. “Do we really have to talk now? I’m so tired.” Exhausted, her shoulders sagged.
He crossed to her in two steps and steadied her shoulders with his strong hands. Gently he guided her back to the pillows. “Aye, you do need your rest. But we will talk later.”
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