Rafe's Redemption by Jennifer Jakes

face.
    “Little Owl!” Cecil pounded the door. “It’s safe. Let us in.”
    Dim light flickered through a lone window. The plank door creaked open, and a woman, layered in men’s clothing, filled the space. The wind whipped her black hair around her copper-skinned face, but she broke into a wide smile when Cecil pressed a kiss to her cheek and patted her protruding stomach.
    “Get some coffee ready, darlin’. It’s McBride and his woman. They’ll need something hot to drink.” Rafe tromped through the snow with Maggie tucked against him, his gaze glued to her. She looked away, knowing what she would see. The same disappointed expression her father had worn. But somehow, it would hurt more to see Rafe wear that expression. Somehow, during the past couple of days, she started to realize some self-confidence from Rafe’s approval.
    “I’ll put Moses away for you.” Cecil trudged toward the tunnel.
    Rafe shouldered through the small wooden door, folding her tight against his body.
    “I can walk now,” Maggie insisted, wiggling to get free. “I’m just stiff, not frozen like before.” His jaw tightened beneath his whiskers. “I will carry you.”
    “Mr. McBride—”
    “For God’s sake, stop arguing with me.” He glanced at Cecil’s wife, then lowered his voice. “I didn’t mean to insult you earlier. My words came out wrong.” He blew a long breath toward the ceiling.
    She studied his face, nose red from the cold, ice pellets frozen to his whiskers, gray eyes full of regret.
    A nd her embarrassment scattered. So his stiff attitude was from guilt?
    “A ll right.”
    He turned toward the fireplace. “Little Owl, this is Maggie. Where should I put her?”
    “Here. Beside the fire.”
    Little Owl pulled a chair from the table and scurried to light another lantern. Rafe deposited her onto the worn oak seat, then dropped to his knees and untied her boots. His strong fingers brushed her ankle as he slid one shoe free, sending a flash of heat up her leg until her cunny tingled with need.
    “I can do it.” Maggie bent and tugged on the shoe, though her cold fingers protested. “Go take care of Moses. He’s frozen, too.”
    “I will see to her,” Little Owl soothed. She pulled the wet blanket from Maggie’s shoulders and wrapped a heavy quilt around her. “Go, McBride.”
    Rafe darted a glance between the women, then strode to the door. “I won’t be long.” He slammed the door against the howling wind.
    Maggie heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you. His hovering makes me nervous.” Nervous and flushed and…
    too many other things she was sure would lead to trouble. It was too hard to concentrate when Rafe was close. A ll her thoughts turned to sexual need.
    “Men worry much.” Little Owl shook her head.
    “I suppose.” He had seemed worried. But why he felt such a responsibility for her, she’d never understand.
    “McBride would not want you hurt. You are his woman.”
    “I’m not his woman.” She didn’t intend to belong to any man.
    Little Owl crooked a brow. “No?”
    “No. I don’t wish to marry.”
    “I did not say marry.” She winked before turning to the fire.
    “Oh.” A delicious shiver coated Maggie with goose skin. Did she dare take advantage of what fate offered?
    A nd why did the thought of using his body tie her in knots, and make her hum with need at the same time?
    Nettie always told her to live life if she got the chance.
    She would probably also point out at no other place could Maggie take a lover without social repercussion.
    “Put your feet near the fire and wrap your hands in this.” Little Owl handed Maggie a warm towel.
    Maggie nodded, propped her feet on the hearth and surveyed the room. It was only half the size of Rafe’s cabin. How would they all fit? The small table and two chairs took up most of the floor space. Wood lined the walls beside the fireplace, and crates of supplies occupied the wall behind the bed. A single bed.
    Oh, Lord. Where would