Justice for Elsie

by Amelia Smarts

  She covered her face with her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at him, and she felt overcome with emotions. He’d made it very clear he didn’t want harm to come to her. Amidst the pain of the spanking, she felt good about that. She also felt incredibly foolish for pulling a gun. “I’m sorry I thought I needed to protect you from Xavier,” she whimpered behind her hands. “I should have known you could take care of yourself.”

  He didn’t respond right away. Finally, he stood and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest. He sighed. “You’re so good, darlin’. I appreciate that you care.”

  “It sure doesn’t seem like you do,” she said in a small voice.

  He chuckled softly. “Well, let’s just say what I’d appreciate more is you staying out of harm’s way.” She kept her head buried against his chest for some time and cried, not only from the spanking, but also for everything she’d endured alone. Wyatt rubbed her back and didn’t loosen his hold on her. “Everything’s going to be all right, Elsie,” he murmured. “I know what Xavier did to your pa, and everything’s going to be all right.”

  Her bottom throbbed as he held her against him, but the ache soon bloomed into desire. Wyatt smelled so good, and his body was so warm and comforting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and enjoyed the feeling of his embrace for as long as possible, wishing he would kiss her again. But he only held her and stroked her hair and back until her sniffles disappeared.

  Chapter Seven

  Wyatt rode his horse from the Infinity Ranch to town at a snail’s pace. Like usual, he dreaded his weekly meeting with the marshal. It wasn’t that he felt guilty over keeping Elsie’s cattle rustling a secret from the law. He’d figured out within a day whose side he was on. The Xaviers were at fault for what they did to Elsie’s pa, and her revenge was fully justified in his opinion. Though he went to sleep every night with a clear conscience, he was in the very precarious position of keeping up a ruse with Elsie as well as with the marshal.

  Despite Elsie being obviously smitten with Wyatt, she hadn’t made him privy to her theft. Until she did, he couldn’t present her with a way out. He worried that if he confronted her about it, she would deny it and redouble her efforts to hide it from him. To Wyatt’s way of thinking, this would put her in danger, since it would open up the possibility that someone else might discover it before he did. She seemed just on the brink of telling him. Several times he’d seen it in her eyes, her desire come clean, but she’d always caught herself before speaking the words aloud.

  “Sit down,” the marshal said, when Wyatt walked into the jailhouse.

  He obliged as a prickle of apprehension ran down his spine. The marshal’s demeanor and voice was none too friendly.

  “Well? Have you seen anything yet?” the marshal demanded, setting aside his paperwork and pinning him with a glare.

  Wyatt shook his head slowly. “Afraid not. She still has me working around the barn and cabin. Any time I ask to go to the range, she refuses.”

  The marshal grunted in frustration. “Have you talked to the hands at all? Haven’t they chattered?”

  “Nope. They’re careful, and they’re real loyal to Miss Elsie. She treats them like family.”

  The marshal’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’ll speak freely. I expected you to have some information by now. It’s been a month, and I’m no wiser than I was when I first met you. You’re a shoddy deputy if I ever saw one.”

  Wyatt scowled at him and clenched his hands into fists. “Maybe that’s because I’m not a deputy. I’m a ranch hand, remember, and I’m doin’ my best at play-acting deputy and getting information I can use.” He wasn’t really offended, but he knew he had to act that way so that all appeared normal.

  “Look, Mark Xavier has been in and out of my office every day for a week. He’s as good as guessed that Elsie Fin has something to do with his lost cattle. I don’t get some answers soon, people are gonna start taking the law into their own hands. I’d rather that girl end up in jail than at the end of a vigilante’s rope.”

  Wyatt tapped his boot heel against the floor, looking down so that the marshal couldn’t read the concern on his face.

  “You’ve got a week, Parker,” the marshal growled. “You better have some news to share by next Sunday or so help me, I’ll run you out of town so fast you won’t know what hit you. And I won’t pay you a cent.”

  “Very well,” Wyatt said. “I’ll have something to report by next week. You can count on it.” He stood and strode toward the door, exiting before the marshal had dismissed him.

  A sense of urgency surged through him. The walls were closing in, and there was only a small window of time for him to make everything right.

  Wyatt walked to Mary’s Restaurant, where he sat at a table and ordered a coffee with his last quarter. He was determined that, before he rode back to the Infinity Ranch, he would work out the right words to say in order to compel Elsie to confess to him. A plan for getting her out of this mess was already brewing in his mind, but she had to trust him for it to work.

  As he thought about Elsie while sipping his coffee, his heart softened as it did every time he thought about the little rancher. She was smart and capable, but she was also so very vulnerable, and he felt determined to protect her at all costs. More than that, he wanted her for his own. He couldn’t wait until this cattle-rustling business was behind them and he could propose to her.

  Being in her presence always made Wyatt feel like more of a man. Her feminine curves and sweet face differed sharply from his angles and scars. In every way that he was tough, she was soft. How Elsie treated him had a lot to do with why he felt a few inches taller around her. She always gazed at him with admiration, even after learning about his injury. Being acquainted with a woman who admired him at his worst, when he was nothing but a poor, hurt cowboy, caused Wyatt to feel great affection and desire for her.

  It required a great deal of self-control not to take her into his arms and ignite the spark that perpetually burned in her eyes. With every day that passed, Wyatt liked Elsie more, and eventually he realized he was in love with her. Their attraction towards each other was something he’d never experienced before. It was magnetic, indisputable—

  He stopped mid-thought and nearly choked on his coffee, for he’d suddenly spotted the very woman on his mind, and she wasn’t alone. Elsie sat with a man at a table by the wall. The sunlight streaming in through the window, which was where he was sitting, prevented her from seeing him, so Wyatt watched the entire scenario unfold before his eyes, without her even knowing he was there.

  She was wearing her best dress, the same she’d worn when she’d invited Wyatt to supper, and her cheeks were flushed in excitement and merriment. The man opposite her poured her tea. Though Wyatt couldn’t hear what they were saying, he could see that whatever words being spoken were making Elsie blush.

  Wyatt fumed. What in the hell? Elsie was being courted? How did he not know this? It took all his strength not to pound his fist against the table in outrage. Elsie was his woman. What was she thinking entertaining another man?

  The waitress stopped by his table. “Would you like another coffee, sir?” she asked pleasantly.

  Wyatt struggled to get his feelings under control. He cleared his throat. “No, ma’am. Thank you.”

  “Oh, don’t call me ma’am,” the waitress said, giggling flirtatiously. She held out her hand. “I’m Miss Florence Clark. Please call me Florence.”

  Annoyed by the interruption but not wanting to seem rude, he shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Wyatt Parker.”

  “Well, Wyatt—you don’t mind if I call you that, do you?” she asked sweetly, slipping into the seat across from him. “Welcome to Virginia City. Haven’t seen you before.”

  “Thanks,” he said, distracted and wishing she would leave so that he could study Elsie and her male companion without interruption.

  Florence caught him looking in their direction. “He’s new in town too,
” she said conversationally. “I just learned he’s…” she lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “…a mail-order groom.”

  Wyatt’s full attention snapped to Florence. “What?” he hissed. “What in tarnation do you mean, a mail-order groom?”

  Florence laughed at his reaction. “I mean what I said. He came all the way from Rochester, New York, to marry Elsie Fin after she put an advertisement for a husband in the paper.”

  “Of all the…,” he sputtered. “What kind of poppycock is that?”

  “It’s sort of a pattern here. I reckon it’s not too common anywhere else, but Elsie Fin is the third woman who’s done it in Virginia City. Worked out well for the other two.”

  “Well, it’s not going to work out well for Elsie,” he said firmly, before he could censor himself.

  Florence cocked her head. “You sweet on her or something?”

  He inwardly kicked himself. It was foolish of him to allow his feelings to show, even to a waitress. If that got back to the marshal somehow, there would be hell to pay.

  “Nah, I’m not sweet on her,” Wyatt said, sitting back and forcing himself to relax. “I just know her is all, and that man ain’t her type.”

  Florence studied him, not appearing like she believed him in the least. “Too bad you’re not sweet on her,” she said, shrugging a shoulder. “If you married her, I might have a chance to get to know Mr. Latham from Rochester. That’s where I’m from originally, you know. I came out here as a mail-order bride.” She snorted. “Didn’t work out as well for me as it has for all the grooms.”

  “You might have your chance with Mr. Latham,” Wyatt said, spitting out his name like it was a foul taste in his mouth. He stood to his feet and paid her for the coffee. He wanted to slip out before Elsie saw him. “Like I said, he ain’t her type.”

  He planted his Stetson on his head and nodded his goodbye to Florence, then stormed to his horse and rode back to the Infinity Ranch, ready to kick up a row.

  Chapter Eight

  Elsie had expected to feel a heck of a lot happier after meeting her future groom than she did. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Mr. Latham—he was a perfect gentleman and witty to boot, making her laugh several times during their first meeting—but he wasn’t Wyatt. She kicked her horse into a gallop toward her ranch, angry that Wyatt had rejected her instead of making love to her that day she’d fixed his arm. For the hundredth time, she pondered what had made him act in such a way and yet still appear plenty smitten with her. It didn’t make sense, and it infuriated her.

  She had to put it out of her mind. Tomorrow she would be a married woman, and it would no longer make any difference about Wyatt. Slowing her horse to a walk, she spent the last mile shifting her thoughts to Mr. Latham. She liked how he dressed, and she liked his kind smile. Things would work out. This was what she wanted, she told herself sadly.

  Elsie dismounted inside the barn. After grooming her horse and ensuring he had a fresh scoop of oats, she walked to her cabin. There she sat in her rocking chair and picked up her embroidery project. Sundays were the only days in which she actually engaged in activities considered more feminine, since she made a point to take a break from ranching on that day every week.

  She’d no sooner sat down than she heard a knock at her door. She opened it to find the very man she was trying to get out of her mind standing before her with his arms crossed. Her heart gave a little leap, as it did every time she saw Wyatt. She couldn’t help how his presence made her react, but she silently berated herself.

  “Howdy,” she said.

  “Howdy,” he replied, removing his hat.

  She waited for him to explain his reason for being there, but instead he just nervously twisted his Stetson around in his hand.

  “Everything all right at the bunkhouse?” she prompted.

  “Oh, yes. Everything is fine. Mind if I come in to discuss something with you? It’s important.”

  “Of course I don’t mind, do come in,” she said, stepping aside to allow him entrance. She loved every opportunity to spend time with him. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  He walked inside, and she closed the door behind him. “No, I just had some,” he grunted. He gave her a pointed look. “At Mary’s Restaurant.”

  “I was just there,” she said breezily, and then froze as his glare pinned her in place. She realized then that he must have seen her with Mr. Latham.

  “Yes, I know you were,” he said. “You were there with a man.” His voice sounded accusatory, which immediately made her hackles go up, even as she felt guilty for no good reason.

  She swallowed. “His name is Mr. Latham.”

  Wyatt let out a sigh of exasperation and stalked to the other side of the room away from her. “I don’t give a whit what his name is.” He fished out his pipe from his pocket and lit it.

  Elsie studied him, surprised by his behavior. He looked nervous and as tetchy as a teased snake. The only possible reason she could come up with for him acting so annoyed by her having lunch with another man was that he wanted her for his own. But he’d never expressed that, not once, and in fact had rejected her outright.

  “What’s wrong, Wyatt? You seem awfully antsy.”

  He puffed out a cloud of smoke and glared at her. “How dare you make arrangements to marry another man? You’re my woman.”

  His words nearly knocked her over. A myriad of emotions overtook her, anger and happiness each vying for center stage. “Since when?” she demanded. “You never asked for my hand! As a matter of fact, you… you rejected me!” She could feel her lower lip quivering in outrage.

  “I had my reasons for that!” he bellowed. “All would have been made clear to you eventually, if you’d only waited.”

  “Oh, right, that would have made sense,” she bit out. “Wait for a man who never once asked me to wait, while I grow older and lonelier by the minute. I need a husband now, someone strong and loyal. You have no idea—”

  “Believe me, I do have an idea.” He walked to her and stared down into her eyes, his own flashing with anger and passion.

  She blinked, hardly believing what was happening. Her heart pounded heavily, while her body came alive under his gaze. She wanted him so desperately in that moment, despite being furious with him.

  “Why are you saying all this now, Wyatt? Why weren’t you honest about how you felt from the beginning?”

  His eyes narrowed while he worked his jaw. “Why wasn’t I honest?” he repeated, his voice low and incredulous. “Yes, let’s talk about honesty. Let’s start with the real reason why you won’t let me ride out to your range.”

  She gasped, surprised by his statement. Did that mean he knew about the cattle rustling? No, there was no way her hands would betray her trust and tell him. “You, you… you were hurt,” she stammered. “Why would I have you work on the range when you weren’t able to use your right arm?”

  “You’re sticking with that reason, are you?” he asked, his voice tight with anger.

  “It’s the only reason I have.”

  Disappointment joined fury in Wyatt’s expression. He shook his head and looked away briefly. “In that case, now that I’m no longer injured, you won’t have any problem with showing me what happens out on the range, then?”

  “If you want,” she said slowly.

  Wyatt’s gaze smoldered as it burned a trail from her eyes to her lips. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to him, and kissed her. It was a bruising kiss, one that was simultaneously possessive and full of lust. Her lips parted, allowing him entrance as her thoughts became foggy. This was what she’d been hoping would happen ever since that first night together. Now that he was finally kissing her, she could hardly believe it.

  When he released her, he took a step back and turned to walk to the front door. “Tomorrow morning, you be at the two elms. I’ll get there bright and early.”

  “Yes, Wyatt,” she whispered. The location he gave was where the rebranding took place.<
br />
  “Elsie…” he said, turning to catch her eye. “I hope you can forgive me for not making my feelings clear before. Maybe there was a better way for me to go about what I’m doing. Lord knows it hasn’t been easy keeping shy of your touch for so long.”

  She blinked and nodded, not sure what he meant and unable to think of a response.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was a pleasant, warm morning, the kind that was neither too hot nor too cold. Wyatt turned his horse in the direction of a clearing on the far side of the Infinity Ranch. Birds chirped cheerfully around him as his horse’s hooves clipped along the narrow, hard-dirt path around a bend. He arrived at the slow-trickling stream and guided his horse across it. Two elm trees on either side of the path created an arc above him, which he ducked through, and a whiff of cow manure reached him. He entered a dense thicket, and upon exiting, saw an expanse of flat, green land. A wooden corral containing five cows filled the opposite side of the meadow from him. In the center, a crudely built forge roared with fire. Through the flames, he saw Elsie, her forehead creased into lines of concentration.

  Wyatt directed his horse around the fire and dismounted. His horse immediately dipped his head to graze on the lush grass as Elsie approached him. “Hello, Wyatt.” Like usual, her eyes lit up upon seeing him, but this time Wyatt saw worry in them as well.

  “Howdy, Elsie.” His heartbeat quickened. Today would either be the best day of his life or the worst.

  He followed Elsie to a couple of tree stumps, and they sat down next to each other. Wyatt couldn’t help but notice how the light from the sun made her brunette hair shine nearly as brightly as her eyes. She wore men’s clothing, but her shirt was a soft green color that made her look demure and feminine.