Read Another Dawn Online

Authors: Deb Stover

Tags: #Fiction, #Redemption (Colo.), #Romance, #Capital Punishment, #Historical, #General, #Time Travel

Another Dawn (47 page)

      
"Right on schedule."
 
Luke held back a branch until Sofie and her horse eased by and entered the clearing. "This stream and the sun will be our guide."

      
"Good."
 
Sofie's butt was more than ready to part company with the saddle. "Pity it isn't a hot spring."

      
Groaning, Luke dismounted and held her reins as she did the same. "Yeah, I could use a soak myself."

      
The air grew frosty as Luke unsaddled the horses and hobbled them nearby. "I sure hope I did that right, or we'll wake up sans horses," he said, carrying a bundle of sticks to a flat area near the stream. A circle of charred stones indicated someone else had once camped in the clearing.

      
"You must've been a Boy Scout."

      
Luke glanced up, a guarded expression in his eyes. "Once upon a time," he said.

      
His secrets. Sofie watched until the fire was going well before glancing at the nearest clump of trees and shrubs. "I, uh, need to..."

      
He nodded and fed more wood to the blaze. "Don't go too far."

      
She had no intention of straying far. After taking care of business, she returned quickly to the fire's warmth. She couldn't bear to sit too soon, so she turned her backside toward the heat.

      
Luke chuckled, and she couldn't suppress her answering grin as he fumbled through their supplies. Within a few moments, she smelled something cooking and turned back to find a small iron kettle in the coals near the fire's base.

      
"If I'm doing this right, we'll have beans tonight."

      
Sofie smiled. Anything warm sounded good right now. Shivering, she squatted down near the fire.

      
"Cold?" Luke walked away, then returned a moment later with a blanket. He wrapped it around her shoulders, letting his hands linger a moment, Sofie thought, before he returned to tending the beans. And had his hand brushing against her braided hair been accidental...or deliberate?

      
Stop it, Sofie.

      
She wanted to touch him desperately. As she watched him move around the fire, stirring the beans and adding wood to the fragrant blaze, her heart swelled with love and longing. He was definitely a special man.
 

      
Of course, it took a special kind of man to dedicate his life to God. The reminder of his vows made her throat clog with unshed tears, and gut clench with guilt.

      
I love you, Luke.

      
And she would take her love for this man with her to the grave. She knew that now. Regardless of what happened, or where they went after reaching Denver, she would carry her love for him in her heart forever.

      
Always.

      
He filled a tin plate with steaming beans and handed it to her. "Careful, it's hot."

      
She took the plate and watched him serve himself, then he sat on a rock beside her. "I think cowboys always drink coffee, but I'm a wimp. It keeps me awake at night."
 
He spooned beans into his mouth, then turned toward her. "But if you want some, I could–"

      
"No, water's fine."
 
She lifted the tin cup to her lips and took a long drink. "Thank you."

      
"My pleasure."
 

      
Sofie ate her beans in silence, then offered to rinse the dishes in the stream, but he insisted on doing it himself. "You're spoiling me," she argued.

      
"I know."

      
Those two little words poured over her like warm maple syrup. A shiver skittered down her spine and she pulled the blanket closer as she watched him rinse the dishes in the stream, then pack them away for the night.

      
"Sam said to hang our food in a tree away from where we sleep," he said, tossing a rope over a branch and tying their supplies to it.
 

      
Where
we
sleep? Sofie's breath caught and her pulse launched.
Houston, we have lift-off.

      
Luke pulled the rope, hoisting their supplies into the air, high enough that no creatures would be able to reach it. "There. Even Big Foot couldn't reach that."

      
"Big Foot?" Sofie suddenly noticed the night sounds. An owl hooted, something else scurried along the ground just beyond the friendly circle of firelight. "Oh."

      
Chuckling, Luke fed more wood to the blaze. "I'll keep this going, Sofie," he promised. "Don't worry."

      
She knew the flames would keep wild animals away, so she relaxed somewhat. No, her greatest threat wasn't from wild animals, but from herself.

      
Because in her heart and soul, she couldn't deny that if Luke weren't a priest, she'd throw herself at him tonight. She'd give anything to feel his lips on hers, his gentle touch against her flesh.

      
His body buried deep inside hers.

      
Oh, God
. She swallowed hard and let the blanket slip from her shoulders. Cold was definitely not her problem now.

      
"You okay?" He returned to her side, absently poking at the embers with a long stick. "Your shoulder hurting?"

      
"No, my shoulder's fine."
 
She drew a deep, cleansing breath and released it very slowly. The distance to Denver suddenly seemed much farther.

      
"Good. I was afraid the night air would aggravate it."

      
Aggravated was a good word, but definitely didn't apply to her shoulder. Sofie squirmed slightly, trying to ignore the ever-tightening knot of desire low in her belly.

      
She must've been sexually active before her amnesia. Otherwise, how could she have such specific knowledge of what she was missing? What she wanted.

      
Now.

      
Closing her eyes, she visualized Luke covering her with his long, muscular body, pressing his hard erection against her soft, hungry–

      
Gasping, she lurched to her feet, leaving the blanket behind as she fled to the stream. Maybe a frigid mountain stream could douse the fervent flames in her body and heart. Luke was beside her in an instant.

 
      
He touched her.

      
No, don't do that
. She couldn't stand it now. Not now. She'd snap if he kept touching her.

      
"Sofie?" He stepped in front of her and put both his hands on her, one on her upper arm and the other on her cheek. "You don't have a fever."

      
She shook her head.
Oh, yes...yes, I do.

      
"What's wrong?" He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, sending rivulets of desire cascading through her.

      
Sofie trembled and he wrapped his arms around her. "You
are
cold," he whispered against her hair. "Come on back to the fire."

      
I have a fire of my own
. She trembled again as he rubbed her back, his hand roaming over her spine in slow, stimulating circles.
 

      
"Oh, Luke," she whispered, wanting to devour him on the spot. She felt like a nocturnal predator, preying on unsuspecting priests. "Please..."

      
"Please what?" His voice grew husky and he buried his face against the side of her neck, nuzzling her without actually kissing. Everything he did could easily be misconstrued as totally innocent.

      
But Sofie couldn't forget that night on the floor of the parsonage, when he'd branded her body and soul. Now they stood beneath the stars, the silent night enveloping them in a cocoon so private no one would ever know.

      
No one but them.

      
"Don't, please," she said, pulling away and returning to the campfire.

      
She heard him follow, knew he paused mere inches away, but she refused to look away from the bright orange flames. Luke was far more dangerous than the most blistering inferno.

      
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "So sorry."

      
Warden Carl Graham would see justice done. He didn't care what happened to him in this bizarre place and time. All that mattered was that he fulfill his destiny.

      
By carrying out Luke Nolan's execution.

      
Why else had he been spared from certain death? He had a mission to complete, then he could die in peace.

      
Pulling the gray mask over his hideous face, he crossed the small bedroom he still occupied in the Wilson house and opened the door. Today he would see justice done at last.
 

      
Physically, he felt strong enough to complete his duty, though a nagging ache in his chest plagued him. He knew it was his heart. At his last physical, the doctor had warned him he had to retire and start taking it easy.

      
But none of that mattered now.

      
Forsaking his limp at long last, he went down the hall to Dr. Wilson's office. With his strength returned, he would now fulfill his mission, making his disguise–such as it was–unnecessary. Wouldn't that old quack be shocked to learn who Father Salazar really was? Without bothering to knock, Graham opened the door and entered the doctor's office.
 

      
The white-haired physician looked up from the papers on his desk with an expression of surprise. His woolly eyebrows shot upward, then a smile split his face.

      
"Mr. Smith, it's good to see you up and about."
 
Wilson rose and approached.

      
"Where's Nolan?" Graham asked in his raspy voice. "Where's he staying?"

      
Wilson's shock multiplied and his mouth fell open. "You can talk."

      
"Where's Nolan?"

      
Dr. Wilson shook his head and removed his spectacles. "Nolan? I don't know anyone by–"
 
He snapped his fingers. "Oh, wait, there's someone by that name in Cripple Creek–owns a saloon, I think. Is that your name? Is this Nolan a relative of yours?"

      
"Not hardly."
 
Graham moved closer. The thought of delaying his mission long enough to explain the priest's true identity was unthinkable, though he'd looked forward to it. "Where's the...priest and that doctor?"

      
His gaze narrowing, Dr. Wilson shook his head. "They left yesterday for–"

      
Fury boiled in Graham's gut and he swept his arm across Wilson's desk, scattering papers and ink across the floor. "Where'd they go?" A roar erupted from somewhere deep in his soul. "Where?"

      
Wilson looked at the mess, then marched to the outside door and opened it. "Get out of my home," he said in low, clipped tones. "I've done my duty by you, but you've overstayed your welcome in this house, and in Redemption."

      
Graham moved toward the open door, not caring if he had a roof over his head, food to eat, or a place to sleep. Nothing mattered except justice.

      
Nothing.

      
"Where?" He stopped in front of Dr. Wilson and lifted his chin, pinning the man with his gaze. "Tell me that...and I'll go."

      
Wilson was apparently weighing his options. After several moments, he said, "I don't know why you want them, but they went where you'll never find them. Now go."

      
Dora Fleming appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. "What's...?"

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