back under the rock for a few minutes, or days, or maybe years.
His hand brushed her arm, then found her fingers and gripped tightly. “We have to move fast, Anna. We need to be over the ridge by dawn. I couldn’t tell who was on that horse riding by below, but I don’t think it will be long before more follow.”
He didn’t give her time to answer; he just tugged her out of the shadow of the boulder and began climbing. The rain had turned to a mist making her feel like she was moving in a dream.
She kept moving, trying not to think. Maybe she’d get lucky and they wouldn’t make the ridge, and the outlaws would shoot them down. At least then she wouldn’t have to face him. Never, never, never had she allowed a man to touch her the way he had. The only other kiss she’d truly received had been at her wedding. There had been no time or privacy for more.
She thought of how hard the Ranger’s face had looked, even when he’d slept in the stagecoach, chiseled like weathered granite. How cold his eyes were.
How demanding his kiss. How bold his hands. She mentally slapped herself for letting her mind wander.
He’d advanced so fast she hadn’t been able to think about how to reject him. This was all his fault. She should have nothing to be ashamed of.
If the man would slow down now, Annalane swore she would kill him. What right did he think he had to kiss her like that? To touch her. To wake her up to something she told herself she had been perfectly happy not knowing about.
Her anger stewed as she climbed. She barely noticed the eastern sky lighten. They were at the ridge by the time dawn washed over the rocks.
McCord jumped down off a rock and turned, lifting his arms to catch her. He swung her around. “We made it.”
A smile lit his face, making him look younger—closer to thirty, not forty as she’d first guessed. Despite her anger and exhaustion, she smiled. They were safe, at least for now.
He set her on her feet, took her hand as if he’d done so a thousand times, and started down the shadowy side of the hill.
Halfway down, he stopped to allow her to catch her breath. While she rested against a cold rock, he searched the valley below.
“The driver told me you were going to meet your brother at Camp Supply.”
She nodded as she fought exhaustion.
“He’ll know the stage didn’t make it in last night, and I’m guessing troops will be headed this way. If I’d been waiting for you, I’d be an hour in the saddle by now, maybe more.”
If Devin hadn’t planned to introduce her at dinner last night, she doubted he’d even notice she was missing. He was more likely to wait and blame her for being late than come after her, but Annalane didn’t want to admit that to McCord.
The Ranger kept watching. “On horseback they could cut some time off the stage trail and be here in an hour, two at the most.”
Annalane closed her eyes, wishing the driver hadn’t been so nosy, but a woman traveling alone was a rare sight in these parts, and she thought it would help if he knew she had someone waiting to meet her. It might make her sound not quite so like an old maid. At least she hadn’t told the driver more. She never told anyone the truth. What would people say, or believe, if she told them that her brother never contacted her unless he needed something from her? She swore that ever since he could talk he’d manipulated everyone around him. Life was some kind of game and people just cards to play to him.
She sniffed, thinking she was really pathetic. Even knowing what he was like, she’d traveled half a continent hoping that this time he’d act like a real brother. Maybe for once he was thinking of her, alone in Washington, and not just himself.
I will not cry, she silently vowed. I will not cry.
McCord startled her when he stomped back to where she stood. All she could manage was to glare at him when he cleared his throat.
“About last night . . .” he started, forcing out the words as if he were reading his own obituary.
“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she hissed through her teeth to keep from screaming.