Alana by Monica Barrie

head, he went to Jason. “This is no time for arguing, old friend,” he said.
    Jason looked up and slowly nodded his head. “I need you to do something for me.”
    “What?”
    “I learned today that Alana has been selling her jewels to pay the creditors. It will be awhile before my business funds are accessible. The bills are mounting here, and Alana has no money left.” Jason paused to take a deep breath.
    Rafe watched him, knowing that the laudanum had worn off and that Jason was in a great deal of pain. He started toward the bed table, but Jason stopped him.
    “Gabriel can do that. I need you to go to my old home. I took precautions before I left for the war. Behind the stable is a well. Two feet beneath the lip, you will find a series of irregular bricks. Behind the bricks is a strongbox of gold. Bring it to Alana for me.”
    ~~~~~
    Carefully, Alana approached the burned-out husk of the house on foot. When she was twenty feet from it, she stopped. The scent of rot and decay reached her.
    A horse’s whinny echoed, and Alana whirled. Quietly circling the burnt timbers, she came upon the horse tied to a sapling that grew near the ransacked stable–and breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized it as Rafe’s.
    Hearing a scraping sound, she walked toward it. She stopped when she saw Rafe bent over the well, his upper torso hidden within it. She walked to where he was, sat on the rim of the well, and spoke. “What are you doing here?”
    Rafe pulled himself up and turned to Alana. His gaze washed across her face and a smile curved his lips. “Doing an errand.”
    “I think we have enough water at Riverbend,” she stated.
    “Water, yes–but gold?” he asked.
    Alana’s eyes narrowed. “What gold?”
    “Jason’s.” With that, he returned to his task, leaving Alana to her thoughts. Five minutes later, and after several loud splashes from falling bricks, Rafe straightened up, his cheeks smudged with dirt. Silently, he handed Alana the strongbox.
    Alana took the box and carefully raised the lid. A gasp escaped her lips. Sunlight glinted from a pile of shiny golden coins. Just this morning she had been trying not to panic over Riverbend’s lack of money–and suddenly here was hope. She looked back at Rafe. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    “Don’t thank me. Thank Jason.”
    Alana nodded and put the strongbox on the ground. “Rafe, I–I know this has been hard on you, and I just want to thank you again for being my friend.”
    Rafe tensed, and then shook his head. When he spoke, his words were not what she expected. “Don’t delude yourself, Alana. I am not your friend. At least, not the kind of friend you mean.” Confused, Alana tried to explain herself, but Rafe would not let her. “If you can’t tell me the truth, at least do me the kindness of not deceiving yourself.”
    “Truth?” she asked, her voice bitter for the first time as her emotions, long held in check, now erupted. “You want truth, Rafe? All right, then truth you shall have!
    “You walked into my life eleven days ago. You turned everything in my world upside down. You awakened a need in me, a desire that should never have been born.” She stared at him defiantly, unable to stop the flow of words she had unleashed. “You touched me, and my heart became yours. You looked at me, and I melted under your gaze. Until I met you, I had never wanted anyone. Now all I can do is think of you and of what I will never have. I hate you for doing this to me, Rafe Montgomery, I hate you almost as much as I love you!”
    Then the tears at last broke through, cascading along her cheeks. Alana, her eyes fixed on Rafe, uttered no sound.
    As he had wanted to do ever since he had first laid eyes on Alana, Rafe reached for her and pulled her to him. Gently he stroked her mane of long raven hair.
    Alana buried her face in his chest and let her tears continue to flow. She leaned on him to gather strength from his rocklike stability, but then she