His to protect. His to care for.
And he would do absolutely anything to get her back.
He was still a ways out from the old worn shed when he heard her shout. His heart flew into his throat when he realized she was shouting his name. And then there she was. Not far away, but not nearly close enough.
She stopped moving, freezing in place at whatever it was she saw on his face.
“I’m all right,” she said on a rush of air when he approached. “I am not hurt.”
When he reached her he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight as his hands roved over her searching for injuries. He pulled back to clasp her face between his palms, needing to see with his own eyes that she was indeed unharmed.
Her big blue eyes stared back at him and he lost all track of everything. Time. Place. Context.
For one beautiful, exhilarating, terrifying moment, all that mattered in the world was that she was here. Safe. In his arms. He didn’t think. He didn’t pause.
He kissed her.
Leaning down he claimed her lips with his own in a kiss that seared him to his very soul. After a shocked pause, she kissed him back.
He groaned at the feel of her eager kisses, the way her lips, so soft, so sweet, parted beneath his as if she too was just as desperate for closeness.
As if she too needed this. Because he needed it. The taste of her lips, the warmth of her body in his arms, the scent of her skin and the feel of her heat...
Home.
The word lanced through him like a spear. Home. Home, home, home. The word haunted him as he tried to tear himself away. But the moment he pulled back she made the sweetest little noise in her throat. A whimper of need that had him crushing her to him, holding her close so she knew she was safe.
“I have you,” he whispered in her ear. “I have you.”
She shivered a bit and pushed against his chest. When her gaze clashed with his it was filled with all the shock and heat and confusion that he was feeling.
He forced himself to look away first. To assess their surroundings. He hadn’t seen or heard Roger when he’d approached, but it wouldn't do to drop his guard just because this woman had gotten under his skin.
And into his heart.
He shoved the thought to the side. “Where did he go?”
“He’s long gone,” she said with a sigh and a shake of her head.
“But he didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head again.
“What did he want?”
“To talk.” Her brows drew together and her tone held a note of amazement. “He wanted my help.”
After ascertaining that Roger was nowhere in sight, Caleb wrapped an arm about Abigail and led her back to his cottage. Nicholas visibly slumped in relief at the sight of them.
He clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder as the boy went to hand over his pocket watch. “You did good, Nicholas.”
It was grumbled praise, at best, but the boy lit up as if he’d just won a lifetime of riches. Caleb didn’t miss Abigail’s poorly hidden smile.
When Abigail had the children calm and content, the older ones helping the little ones with their lessons, she finally turned her attention to him.
His gaze kept falling to her lips.
Those lips that he’d kissed. Those sweet, warm, perfect lips.
And she’d kissed him back.
He was still reeling from that, but he tried not to read too much into it. She’d been scared. Her adrenaline was pumping and she’d been relieved to see him, no doubt.
“Well?” She sat down beside him by the fire. “What do you think?”
On the way back she’d filled him in on her brief meeting with the cowardly cad. It seemed he was more pathetic and desperate than any of them had realized.
“If he’s still around then he’s been trying to get his hands on that loot.”
She nodded. “That’s the way it seemed.” She frowned. “He didn’t say much, just that he wants your help.”
Caleb couldn’t quite stop the growl that escaped. “He used you to get a message to me.”
Abigail winced.
“I will kill him.”
She bit her lip. “He didn’t hurt me.”
“This time,” he reminded her. “He didn’t hurt you this time. That doesn’t excuse him for holding you at knifepoint.”
“No,” she said slowly.
But he could tell by the tone of her voice that she’d all but forgiven him. Or, at the very least, she was justifying his actions. “Please do not tell me you feel sorry for this man.”
She winced again, her nose crinkling up in a way that was so adorable it made his teeth ache. So good. So sweet.
What on earth was she doing here with him? Couldn’t she see that he was a brutal criminal? Sure, he and Marcus liked to tell themselves that everything they did was for justice. But that didn’t make their actions any less violent or their lives any less scandalous.
In Caleb’s case, at least, the ends justified the means. He’d made his choices, and he was content to live with them.
Or he had been until this kind, gentle soul had somehow managed to become an integral part of his life. A necessity on par with water and air.
He ran a hand through his tousled hair and strove for calm.
This was not a situation where he could afford to be overset by unwanted emotions. Abigail’s safety was at stake, and that of her family.
“What does he want from me?” Caleb asked.
She clasped her hands together and leaned in toward him as if he were the source of warmth and not the fire beside her. “He wants your help to get on a ship heading out to sea.”
He grunted. He could do it. With his contacts and the fear that came with his name and the ship he’d helped to lead, he could get the man out of
