Eugenia's Embrace

by Cassie Edwards

  "But the sheriff?" Eugenia whined.

  "To hell with the sheriff," the man yelled. "I ain't no outlaw. Just stole a bit of gold dust that wasn't mine. Now will you get the keys and get me out of here?"

  Eugenia moved closer and took a better look at this man who she was considering setting free. Now that she was much closer, and could see through the smoke, something grabbed at her heart. Without the beard could this clean-shaven man actually be Drew? Her heart began to pound rapidly, remembering those blue, penetrating eyes, the black curls of hair on his head, and the one eyebrow that had most of the hair missing because of a scar. Feeling faint from her discovery, she grabbed for the bars he was standing behind.

  "Ah, come on, lady," Drew snarled. "Don't you go a faintin' on me before you get me out of this hell of a mess." Then he stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes widening in wonder.

  "Well, I'll be damned," he said softly, his eyes traveling up and down the length of her body. "Could it be… ?"

  "Drew, is it really you?" Eugenia asked, half sobbing.

  "Eugenia? Is… it… you?"

  "My God," she gasped. "It is you. Drew, I've searched for you in every man's face I've seen. And now. Here? In jail?"

  "Hon, get me out of here," he drawled. "Then I'll explain."

  "But the sheriff?"

  "Damn it, Eugenia. Do you have to be so proper at a time like this? Get me out of here. Then I'll explain."

  Eugenia didn't want to take her eyes from him. She was afraid if she blinked he would be gone.

  "Eugenia! Get a movin'," Drew insisted again.

  "Oh, yes," she said, coughing. She searched along the wall until she found the keys dangling from a nail. She grabbed them, then hurriedly set Drew free.

  "My Eugenia," Drew said, pulling her into his embrace, kissing her passionately on the lips, nose and closed eyes.

  "We've got to get out of here, Drew," she said, half in a rapturous daze from the warmth of his touch and kisses, not truly wanting to stop, but afraid to linger any longer for fear of the fire, and that he might be put back in jail.

  "I know," he said, hurrying toward the desk. He pulled a drawer open and grabbed a pistol from it and stuck it down inside the front of his tan corduroy breeches. Then he pulled a small buckskin bag from the drawer and loosened the drawstring, holding it beneath Eugenia's eyes.

  "My goodness," she said with one glance. She had never seen gold dust before, even though she had now been in the gold mining town of Cripple Creek for several months.

  Drew pulled the drawstring shut and tossed the bag into the air, then put it in his red flannel shirt pocket. "My reason for being in here, hon," he said. Then he pulled something else from the drawer. It was a gold watch that had a chain attached to it. He also thrust it down inside a front pant's pocket. "Grab that jacket and hat from that rack over there, hon," he added.

  Eugenia hurriedly did so. "But where will you go?" she asked, desperation suddenly seizing her—she couldn't find him just to lose him again.

  "I don't know," he said. "But I'm not stayin' in this hellhole another minute." His eyes squinted, searching through the smoke. "Come on, hon," he said as he grabbed Eugenia by the hand. "Let's go through that back door."

  Eugenia clung to his hand with one hand and her muff with the other, fast growing breathless. She could actually feel her lungs laboring for breath. Both from the anxiety of the discovery of Drew—after all the weeks and months of wonder—and from the smoke she continued to breathe into her lungs. The fresh air suddenly rushing around her from the opened door made her pause to take a moment's pleasure from it. She felt Drew's hand release hers.

  "That damn sheriff," he growled, looking angrily around him, as he stood behind the jail.

  "What's wrong, Drew?"

  "That son of a bitch has probably already sold my horse for his own pocket money," he drawled. "It sure as hell ain't anywhere near here."

  Eugenia felt a pressure lessening around her heart and lungs. Then her eyes widened, seeing Drew more closely since they were clear of the smoke. He looked so handsome with the cleanshaven face, with soft features around his blue eyes and mouth. She went to him and touched his arm. "I'm so glad I've found you," she said, unable to stop herself from flinging her arms around his neck. Then she pulled away from him, sulking, "But, why didn't you search and find me?"

  "Hon, there's nothin' I'd like better than chattin' and huggin' and kissin' on you. But we've got to get the hell outta here," he said firmly.

  Eugenia knew that he was right. They could talk later. "Come with me," she said, grabbing him by the hand. An idea was forming in her brain, but she wasn't sure how she could manage it.

  When they reached the street, they could see a small crowd beginning to form in front of the jail.

  "Put on your hat and jacket," Eugenia hurriedly said. "Just act natural and walk beside me."

  "Whatever you say, ma'am." Drew laughed, tipping his hat to her.

  "Oh, Drew," she moaned, her eyes sweeping over him as they hurried in the direction of The Towers. Her heart was aching, she wanted to be in his arms again so badly. And to even think that he was here. With her. By her side! She reached for his hand once again, feeling its warmth. "It really is you, isn't it, Drew?"

  "None other," he said.

  Eugenia could feel his eyes studying her. "Gal, you've changed," he said thickly. He reached over and pulled her cape open, his eyes lighting up with what he saw. "So you trimmed down a mite. Can't say that it's hurt you none."

  Feeling her face reddening, Eugenia pulled her cape around her once again. She couldn't tell him that he was the main reason for wanting to look so pretty. That she wanted him to desire her so much that he would never want to leave her again.

  "Where are you a takin' me, woman?"

  Eugenia was glad that the fresh snowfall on her clothing was helping to erase the aroma of smoke. She would be at The Towers soon. And wouldn't want to have to explain what had sidetracked her.

  "Won't the sheriff be searching for you the next few days?" she asked, continuing to hurry onward.

  "Sheriffs are known to hunt for lost prisoners. Yep. I guess so," he teased.

  Eugenia stopped to face him, frowning. "Drew, I'm serious," she snapped.

  "Okay. Do you have a solution to that one big problem?"

  "I think I might," she answered.

  "Well?"

  "You could hide in one of the tower rooms for a few days," she said hurriedly, her eyes dancing with anticipation.

  "What the hell are you talkin' bout, woman?" Drew growled, searching his jacket pockets, until he pulled a cigarette from one.

  Eugenia's eyes settled on the large white house at the end of the street, again, at this moment, as so many times before, feeling it unbelievable that she was a part of its existence. Her eyes moved up to the many towers on its roof. Surely Drew could hide there safely until the sheriff gave up his hunt. "The house called The Towers?" she murmured, "I live there. And you…"

  Drew interrupted her, stopping to grasp onto her shoulders. His cigarette glowed orange on its tip, and hung limply from the corner of his mouth, bouncing as he talked. "You live there?" he gasped, looking with concern at Eugenia, then toward The Towers. "I heard rumors that that German bastard had a red-headed beauty livin' with him. But I'd never guessed it would be you."

  Eugenia's face reddened as she jerked from his hold. Forgetting the proper English that she had been so carefully tutored in these past weeks, her anger flared. "It ain't what you 'spect it to be," she snapped, tilting her nose up into the air.

  Drew threw his head back with laughter. "Now that sounds more like the Eugenia I remember," he teased.

  "Huh?" Eugenia said, then giggled when she realized what she'd done. She brushed some more snowflakes from her skirt and let her gaze meet his. "Honest, Drew," she said softly. "I only live there. Nothing more."

  Stepping back away from her, his eyes swept over her figure, her clothing, and her grand manner. No
thing like the girl he had made love to on the lower slopes of the mountain that one night. "But you've changed so," he said hoarsely. "How can you account for it all?"

  It wasn't what Eugenia wanted to hear. She didn't want to think about people questioning "why." She had so much. She would surely lose it. "I really don't know," she said softly, her eyes wide.

  "That son of a bitch probably has plans for you that you can't even imagine," Drew growled, flipping his cigarette into the snow. Eugenia watched the orange glow fade away to a nothingness, feeling this also beginning to happen inside herself. Was Drew right? Did Frederick have some hidden schemes that he hadn't set to work yet? But she couldn't bother herself with worries about that now. She had Drew to think of. She had to get him to safety.

  Eugenia lifted her skirt and began to move through the snow once again, her heart pounding harder with each step taken. She had no idea how she was going to carry this off, but she had to. She eyed the grayness of the sky. It was fast being replaced by dark clouds of night. Her mind was working a mile a minute. "First you'll hide in the stables," she said. "Then, later, when I know Frederick is at the Opera House, I'll come out and get you. Then I'll take you up to a tower room."

  "What's in those tower rooms?" Drew asked, his eyes looking upward, seeing the windows, so bleak and colorless.

  "I don't know," Eugenia said. "Frederick hasn't ever let me see."

  Drew laughed darkly. "I bet that ol' German has much to hide. This could prove interestin'."

  Eugenia stopped and faced Drew, her brows tilting downward. "Drew, you'll have to be the quietest," she said, wondering what Frederick would be capable of if he discovered Drew there.

  "I will, hon," he answered. "I didn't mean to worry you."

  A fleeting glance toward the house showed lights beginning to be lit, first one room, then to another. Eugenia looked up to the second-story windows, feeling relief. Her room was still dark and so was Frederick's, which meant he hadn't returned home yet.

  "We must hurry," she said. "Follow me around to the back of the house. We'll go into the stables. Frederick never goes in there."

  "But what about the stable hands?"

  "This time of evening, they're probably having fun in town. Mornings are their busiest times."

  Eugenia swung the double doors open wide. "Hurry, Drew," she said. He followed in behind her. She looked around and saw that she had guessed right. Nobody was to be seen, and all that could be heard was the scuffling of a few horses' hoofs and an occasional wheeze or neigh.

  "Now, go on up in the hayloft," she added, pointing to some steps that led straight up through a hole in the ceiling. "It shouldn't be too cold up there." In one fast movement, she felt herself drawn into his arms. His hard, lean body was pressing against hers and there was an urgency in his lips as they crushed against hers.

  "Oh, my love," he crooned, his fingers searching beneath her cape, finding her breasts. "How I've dreamed of our being together again," he said.

  Eugenia could feel the warmth of his fingers now at the buttons down her back. She sucked in her breath, almost forgetting where she was as the waves of excitement rippled through her. But the sound of a carriage approaching awakened her to the reality of "now"—the present—and what dangers there were in losing one's head in a frenzy of passion. The fulfillment could come later. Even tonight. The thought of it made her grow weak in the knees. But she managed to pull away from him. She put her forefinger to his lips, her eyes devouring him, loving his every feature. "You must go. Now," she whispered. "I shall return. And soon."

  He pulled her back into his arms, touching a breast possessively. "And then, my love. I'll show you once more what it's like to be a woman."

  "Yes, yes," she whispered, then pulled her cape closely around her, not bothering to button up her dress. She closed the stable doors and hurried toward the back door of The Towers, stopping first to peer through a window to see if Clarissa was to be seen. She smiled when her gaze only found faithful Kiyomasu at his usual duties. She knew that her secret could be safe with him. But how could she get all the way upstairs without Clarissa seeing her. She remembered having heard a carriage, and knew that Frederick had returned home. His usual habit was to immediately go to his room to freshen up, with Clarissa assisting him with his bath. She frowned. It was her luck, it seemed, that Frederick would be having supper with her this evening. On the evenings that he did rarely return home before going to the Opera House, she could eat her supper, then retire to her room, unnoticed. But now, when she had Drew to hide and protect? Why was Frederick so unpredictable at times?

  Swinging her skirt and petticoats up into her arms, she rushed through the back door, smiled a friendly smile toward Kiyomasu, then inched her way along the hallway until she got to the staircase. She stopped and listened. Yes, Frederick was in his room. She could hear the faintness of a record being played in the privacy of his room. Another opera, which would drown out her quickening footsteps up the staircase.

  One by one, she rushed up the steps, then flew into her room, shutting the door quickly behind her. She stood in the darkness, panting and gasping for breath. But she knew that time was not on her side so turned on a light and took a fast look around her. Her dress still lay untouched in the middle of the floor. She knew by that that Clarissa hadn't entered the room while she had been gone. That came as a surprise to Eugenia, but a welcomed one.

  As she flung her walking suit and petticoat aside, Eugenia's mind was working on her story—what she could tell Clarissa. She stopped and eyed the bed. Yes, she could feign illness. She could say that she'd been in bed all day. And was even too ill to have supper with Frederick. She hurried to the bed and pulled the bedspread down, then mussed the bed, so that it would appear as though she had been in it all day. She only hoped that Clarissa hadn't taken a look inside.

  After all her clothes were hanging on hangers inside the closet, Eugenia withdrew a chemise and lay it across the bed. She knew that she had to take a bath. The aroma of smoke had clung to her more than she had thought. Even her hair. It reeked of the smoke.

  Hurrying on into her private bathroom, she began to run water into her tub, stiffening when she heard a loud bout of laughter surfacing from the other side of the wall. And then the soft voice of Clarissa.

  She climbed into the water, relishing in its warmth, but still listening. Frederick and Clarissa were continuing to talk. Eugenia couldn't help but wonder further about their relationship. Surely sex entered into the picture somewhere. How could a woman help a man with his bath without touching his…

  Eugenia scooted farther down into the water, thinking about Drew and blow he had made her feel. So alive once again and so full of need. With trembling fingers, she circled a breast, remembering his fingers there, arousing in her the most desirous feelings. She could still feel the aching between her thighs. She moved her fingers on downward and touched where she ached, shutting her eyes, moaning, her own touch teasing her feelings of needing to be fulfilled. But a movement beside her drew her to a startled halt. When her eyes opened, she found Clarissa standing beside her, watching her with dancing, knowing eyes.

  Eugenia grabbed a bar of soap and a washcloth, knowing that her face was as red as it had been the day it had been sunburned so badly.

  "Something I can assist you with, Eugenia?" Clarissa said in a mocking tone of voice.

  Eugenia hated the way Clarissa's eyes were traveling over her exposed body. Eugenia was well aware of her two round globes half-floating on top of the water, with soap bubbles clinging to them like lace. Only the darkened nipples were safely hidden. "No, Clarissa," she mumbled.

  "When you didn't leave your room this afternoon, I had only to think you were asleep," Clarissa said, still watching. "Are you ill?"

  Eugenia's gaze swept upward. "Yes, Clarissa," she answered quickly. "And I still feel too ill to eat. Will you please make excuses for me to Frederick?"

  "Whatever you say," Clarissa said. "Come, let me help you out
of the tub," she added, lifting a bath towel from a gold towel rack.

  Eugenia frowned darkly. "I can manage," she said flatly.

  "No, I insist," Clarissa said. "You might feel faint after your bath. Frederick will be angry with me now for not having checked on you earlier. Come, let me help you back to bed."

  Knowing that she was fighting a losing battle, Eugenia arose from the water and stepped out onto the carpet. She was glad when the towel was wrapped around her body, but she knew that she hadn't been mistaken when she had felt Clarissa's fingers linger too long on her breasts as she had wrapped the towel around in front of her.

  "And now your chemise," Clarissa said, handing the white lacy morsel to Eugenia.

  "I'm all right," Eugenia pleaded. "You can go on to your other duties."

  "Frederick would be angry if I left the room before you are securely in bed."

  "Oh, okay," Eugenia said. She let the towel drop to the floor and quickly pulled the chemise over her head.

  "Now see? It was all so easy," Clarissa said, guiding Eugenia by the elbow toward the bed. Eugenia cringed inside as Clarissa's fingers touched her flesh knowingly once again. This being the first advances that Clarissa had ever made toward her, Eugenia knew that it was because Clarissa had caught her in the midst of touching her love spot, and knew that Clarissa must think that she probably did that all the time. In reality it was the first time. And it had even come as a shock to Eugenia, now that she thought about it, that she could even do such a thing that could bring pleasure to her own body. She realized she was blushing again when Clarissa brought a blanket up to place beneath her chin.

  "Now, if you ever need me for anything else, I'm always willing," Clarissa said, standing beside the bed, her dark eyes almost pleading as her fingers worked at the white collar of her dress. "Sometimes it's best to have sexual release. Even with another woman."

  Eugenia turned her head away and shut her eyes. She could vividly remember Madam Valerie's tongue and fingers, and what they had aroused in her. She didn't want it to happen again. Ever. She wanted Drew. Only Drew.