She frowned, then smiled brightly. “I can handle that. There are other ways, you know.”
He busied himself tying the extra saddlebag on his horse, trying not to imagine those other ways. He fought for the words that would convince Helen of his determination. Damn, he was a lawyer. Words shouldn’t be hard for him, but they were when the adversary facing him knew how to make his tongue get hard.
“Helen, there aren’t going to be other ways, either. I know myself. It wouldn’t stop there.”
“Can’t you control your sexual drive with women?”
“I’ve got real good control, babe. With other women. Not with you.”
He ignored her smile of satisfaction and tried to explain. “It’s like St. Augustine said, abstinence works, moderation doesn’t. In other words, a hard-on has no brain.”
“St. Augustine said that?”
“Not in those words exactly,” he said, grinning. “But he was right. Don’t start the horse to galloping unless you plan to take a ride.”
She laughed. “I can’t believe you know the works of St. Augustine.”
“Hey, I told you — my mother was a dictator. Other kids got Doctor Seuss for bedtime stories. We got the lives of the saints.”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Wasn’t St. Augustine the guy famous for saying, ‘Lord, make me pure and chaste — but not quite yet?’ ”
“So?”
“No wonder he’s your favorite saint!” she hooted. “But back to your birth control problems… I don’t see why you couldn’t… well, you could always, uh…”
“You want me to ‘leave before the gospel?’ Good old coitus interruptus?”
She nodded. Her face was scarlet with humiliation.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Number one, I’d probably forget — you have a way of turning my brain to mush — or I’d say ‘to hell with it’ at the last minute — that’s also related to your turning my brain to mush. But, most important, the method’s not foolproof.”
She pulled a face at him for his firm refusal. “Okay, so you’re saying no actual sex and no other sex and no sharing the same blanket. Any other rules?”
“No touching.”
Her eyes widened with shock. “At all?”
“It’s gotta be that way, babe. And no kissing, either.”
She cast him one of those wounded looks, one women use to make men feel guilty.
He did.
Laughter bubbled out from her lips then and continued until tears streamed down her face. Wiping them away, she nudged her horse into a slow canter, moving down the hill away from him. When he caught up with her at the bottom, she was still laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. Oh, Rafe, I can’t believe you think that we won’t make love again for weeks, maybe longer. It’s impossible.”
“Not if you cooperate.”
She lifted an eyebrow in disbelief.
“I’m stronger than you think.”
“We’ll see.” Her mouth turned up in a Cheshire cat smile.
“So, do you agree to the rules?”
“Sure,” she said, blinking with exaggerated innocence.
She lied, and Rafe damn well knew it. St. Augustine, you’d better send down some heavy-duty ammunition. I’m a man in deep, deep trouble.
Four days later, they made their way down the final stretch to Rich Bar, the northernmost town on the Feather River, a mining camp that had been established earlier that year on rumors of a lake of gold.
Helen’s nerves were strained almost to the breaking point. Rafe had proven formidable in his efforts to resist making love with her. Among other things, he forced her to sleep on the other side of the fire every agonizing night, darn him.
It hadn’t been easy for Rafe, either. Several times, the howling of wolves had awakened Helen in the middle of the night. She would open her eyes to find Rafe staring hungrily at her across the fire, white-lipped with restraint.
But it was the grueling travel that took its greatest toll on them both. Neither had anticipated the rough terrain as they climbed higher and higher into the mountains on their route north.
Riding hard each day, they passed through such colorful camps as Rough and Ready, Lousy Level, Helltown, Gouge Eye, Dead Man’s Bar, Whiskey Flat, and Slumgullion Gulch. They recognized a similarity in them all: Gaming houses and brothels popped up like mushrooms after a rain in every mining town, all with canvas tents, rough plank buildings, and the everlasting crimson calico.