by P. Creeden
His brow furrowed, and he groaned in response but didn’t open his eyes.
She leaned in toward him and whispered again. “It’s time to get up, James.”
He groaned once more and then reached out and pulled her down into the bed with him. Her body stiffened in response as he squeezed her tightly against his chest. Her nose was buried against his shirt. Every solid muscle in his body pressed against hers. Her ears rang as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.
When she finally caught her breath, she breathed in his musky pine and leather scent, which made her dizzy, for she was nearly drowning in it. She tried to pull back, but he only tightened his hold. Finally, she tilted her head back and looked in his face. He was still asleep. But still, she wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. She pulled her arms up and placed the flats of her palms against his chest and pushed harder.
He frowned again and groaned in response. She couldn’t get her body more than an inch or so away from his, and that much took a great struggle. After peering up into his face, she said again, a little louder this time, “James, it’s time to get up.”
His arms went limp around her, and she pulled back quickly, scrambling to get back to her feet. Her heart continued to pound in her chest, and the ringing in her ears had barely subsided. She fanned herself as the heat in her face became barely tolerable. She let out another breath. “It’s after seven o’clock now, James. You really must get up.”
His eyelids fluttered, and he barely opened his eyes, squinting at the light from the lantern. Groggily, he rubbed his hands against his face and asked, “I fell asleep?”
She nodded and huffed a laugh. “You did, and now you need to get up. It’s nearly seven fifteen.”
His eyes went wide, and he shot up to a sitting position. “I need to get going.”
Every move he was making was so different and out of character for him, it was comical and endearing at the same time. Her heart settled from the nearness she’d had with him a moment before. He did it in his sleep and obviously had no recollection of it. Her stomach flipped. As she watched him rush about to get ready to leave, she decided to keep that little encounter her secret for now.
Chapter Thirteen
James had already taken a liking to Sheriff Davis and the deputy, Matthew Smith. Both men were upright and welcoming and patient with James as he learned how to perform the duties of his new office. The three of them patrolled the main part of town by walking up and down the boardwalks and slipping into one of the three saloons to spend a short while watching what was going on. Each of them would spend time in the saloon, gauging anything they felt might be becoming an issue, and then would move on down the boardwalk after an hour, and do the same in the next saloon. The sheriff explained that doing this would keep each of them alert for the night, and each of them would make the presence of a lawman known in the saloon so that people would be less likely to act up.
The three saloons served patrons and allowed them to remain in their establishments until midnight. So, James had to stay up with them and keep things straight until then or a little after. When he was in the second saloon, he ran into a greasy haired man who’d drank more than his share of whisky that evening.
The man spoke over loud in a Southern accent, a bit uncommon for the area. “If I could just find my woman, I could be done with this place. I know she would want to see me. We just had a bit of a misunderstanding, so she ran off to this city. Why did she have to go all the way across the country for this because I misspoke?”
His complaints were ridiculous, but the barkeep seemed to want to help. “What’s your woman’s name? What does she look like? Did she come here alone or with other girls?”
The man shook his head. “No, she’s not a saloon girl. She’s a true Southern lady. Born and raised in Virginia and should have never come out to a God-forsaken place like Kansas City.”
Half the men in the bar lifted a brow at that. James’s hackles rose. If this man continued to insult the town, it wouldn’t be long before things came to blows.
He stepped forward and pushed the man’s whisky glass away from his hands. “Looks like you’ve had enough for the evening. How about you go sleep it off? Maybe you can find your woman in the morning when you’re fresh.”
“Ha!” the man shouted, his breath a mixture of foulness and whisky, almost forcing a gag out of James. The man’s eyes were bloodshot and bleary. “I’ve been here four days, and no one has seen hide nor hair of her.”
James patted the man’s shoulder. “That’s no reason to give up hope. Kansas City is a big town. People come and go. Perhaps she stopped in and then moved onto another place. Maybe she’s not here anymore.”
The man’s eyes closed as he shook his head. Then he slipped and nearly stumbled from the stool where he sat. “No, she’s in some kind of pretend marriage with a man from Kansas City. I need to find her before she does something stupid.”
James’s heart stuttered at the words, “pretend marriage.” His jaw tightened. It couldn’t be. “And just what is this lady’s name that you’re looking for?”
The man’s eyes opened, and he glared into James’s face. “Abigail Lee.”
Except for the fact his heart ached so badly in his chest that he could feel the blood beating through it, James could have sworn his heart stopped. He did stop breathing for several seconds, and then he shook his head. He let out a breath and schooled his expression. “And just who are you, sir?”
“I’m her fiancé, Jud Howard.”
Fiancé? James’s mind went blank. Why had no one told him about a fiancé? He tried to remember everything Fredrick had told him about Abby, but the only thing James could remember was that she needed saving from a bad situation. Was it possible that she didn’t want to be married to this man? His jaw tensed again, and he found his hand forming a fist. “Would Miss Lee be happy to see you?”
“Of course she would. What woman wouldn’t be happy to see her fiancé when he travelled all the way across the country to come get her after having a disagreement?”
Was it possible the whole proxy marriage had been a ruse? Maybe her situation in Virginia wasn’t as bad as Fredrick had let on. Was it possible that she felt abandoned by this man for a moment and jumped into something that she shouldn’t have in the heat of an argument? They’d gotten married very quickly from the time that it was just an idea until the proxy wedding. James swallowed it all down. He wasn’t sure what he should say to this man, but he certainly wasn’t going to tell him he knew where Abby was.
Right now, he just needed to talk to Abby.
But by the time he got home, it was so late, James couldn’t justify waking his wife. He frowned to himself. When had he gotten into the habit of thinking of her as his wife? He knew from the start that this could be temporary—or possibly just a permanent living situation, not a proper marriage. A sigh escaped his lips as he prepared his pallet in the parlor. Everything in him wanted her to be his. His wife. His woman.
But that man from Suffolk called Abby his fiancé? Anger flared up at the thought of any man besides James calling Abby his. Then he huffed a laugh. As if Abby could ever belong to anyone. The woman was strong and resilient, and she could make up her own mind about things. These were all reasons that James’s affection had grown for her so easily.
He peered toward the bedroom door once more, willing it to open. If he didn’t get these questions and feelings off his chest, he doubted he’d get much sleep. With a groan, he threw himself down onto his pallet, his shoulder smarting from the action. Everything had to wait until morning.
Overnight, James got little more than thin sleep. He was bone tired, so by the time Abby came out of her bedroom and started moving around in the kitchen, he didn’t feel much like moving. Slowly, he rose from his pallet and rubbed his face, trying to remove his grogginess.
“I’m sorry,” Abby said, her voice tinkling like Christmas bells. “Did I wake you? If you�
��d like to move to the bedroom and get more sleep, feel free to do so.”
His body was sorely tempted to take her up on the offer, but he knew that rest would be out of his grasp until he talked with her about what he learned last night. He shook his head and stood slowly. “No, that’s all right. I’d rather just have some coffee if you’ll brew some?”
“Of course,” she said, and her smile physically hurt to see. If this was all a ruse... if there was a lie behind that smile... he didn’t think he could take it.
He sat down at the kitchen table, staring at his hands in front of him. She busied herself around the kitchen, humming. It brought back a memory to him, making him wonder if his mother might have hummed like that through the kitchen when he was younger. He was too young at the time to have clear memories of it now. The idea that Abby might be a mother to someone else’s children struck him, and his heart grew heavier, sinking toward his stomach. He loved her. The reality of that fact struck him hard.
She set a cup of warm coffee in front of him, just next to his hand, and he pulled it toward him, letting it warm his palms for a moment.
Abby stood there a moment while he sat silently. Finally, she asked, “Is something wrong?”
Slowly, he looked up at her, tears stinging the backs of his eyes. He released the cup and rubbed at his face again to try to beat back the pain and tears that wanted to spring up. His fragile heart cracked that she cared enough to ask. Finally, he pulled his hands from his face and looked at her. She’d sat in the chair across from him, worry lines marring her delicate skin. He cleared his throat and asked, “Who is Jud Howard?”
Chapter Fourteen
Abby couldn’t have been more surprised if James had yelled at her. Her heart dropped even more than it had when she realized that James wasn’t just tired but stricken.
When she was able to breathe again, she asked, “How do you know that name?”
Hurt and anger both flickered across his his face, intermingling into a single feeling—betrayal. Her stomach lurched. Why did he feel betrayed? He shook his head and took a sip from his black coffee before slapping it back down on the table. A bit of it sloshed over his thumb, but he didn’t react to the heat.
“Is he your fiancé? Did you come to Kansas City because the two of you had a disagreement? Did you enter into this fake marriage with me in order to get back at him?”
She blinked at him, her jaw dropping. Where on earth did he get these ideas? Slowly a flame lit in her core, and then it began warming her from the top to bottom as her shock turned to anger. Exactly what was James accusing her of? Her jaw clenched as she glared at the man across the table from her.
Slowly she stood, leaning forward on the table and waiting to speak until he looked up and met eyes with her. “Exactly where did you get these numbskull ideas from? Jud Howard is the bane of my existence. I have never been engaged to be married to him. He has asked me more times than I have fingers and toes, but I have never—EVER—told the man yes.”
The betrayal may have fled his features but worry and doubt took its place. The two feelings warred with each other as his eyes remained on hers.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And to be clear: I have never felt this was a fake marriage. It is real to me, ordained by God. You are my husband, and as long as you choose to remain my husband, I will be your wife.” She huffed a laugh. “I thought you understood all this. I thought that we were getting closer and developing feelings for each other. Perhaps I was wrong.”
He stood so quickly that the chair he’d been sitting in flew backward and hit the wall behind him. The table quaked under her hands and the coffee in his cup sloshed. “You weren’t wrong.” He came around the table quickly, hands up and ready to grab hold of her, but he hesitated. “You weren’t wrong. Abby, I’m in love with you.”
Her anger fell from her like scales. She blinked at him, suddenly feeling a little scared and a little bit vulnerable. She whispered, “I love you, too.”
His face softened, and he stepped forward and scooped her into his arms. He held her for a long moment against his chest. She laughed, her shoulders shaking. He pulled back a bit. “What’s so funny?”
She barely stopped laughing enough to tell him, “This is the third time you’ve held me like this, but I think it’s my favorite.”
His brow furrowed. “Third time?”
She shook her head. “I’ll tell you more later.”
His smile grew, and he pulled her in again. This time, she wrapped her arms around his waist. He was so big, it felt like he could crush her if he wanted to, but she’d never felt so safe. He pulled back again. “Abby?”
She looked up at him and met his eyes.
“Would it be all right if I kissed you?” he asked.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, but she nodded.
And without another word, he leaned in, and his lips crashed into hers. She had expected a soft, chaste kiss, but her knees went weak as he deepened the kiss faster than she expected. He kissed her desperately, as though he needed her as much as he needed air to breathe. The passion in his touch was overwhelming, as if they were moments away from catching fire. It was a long moment before he pulled back, both panting as though they’d been running toward each other.
And all that Abby knew was that she wanted to do it again. She lifted her face to his, and he leaned in once more with a smile.
Epilogue
Abby had never been one for riding a horse, much less double, but she sat behind James on Buster, arms wrapped around her husband’s waist. His strong back moved with the horse’s motion, and she rested her cheek against it, relishing in his manly strength. The two of them had spent most of the day in each other’s arms, but after talking about it, they decided they had something to take care of in town, and it was best to get it done right away.
James pulled up the buckskin gelding at the Double Shot Saloon and turned toward her in the saddle. “Need help getting down?”
She shook her head, kept hold of his waist, and swung her leg over the horse’s rear, landing lightly on the ground while releasing her grip on James. Then she stepped back to allow him to dismount as well. For some reason, neither of them could stop smiling at each other, and sometimes when they met gazes, heat rushed through Abby, and she couldn’t help but blush.
He tied Buster to the hitching post, pulled his gun belt and badge from the saddle bag and put on the accessories that made him a sheriff’s deputy. Once finished, he offered her an elbow, which she took hold of right away.
The clouds covered the setting sun so that all the light around them was pale and gray. Each step they made on the boards of the walkway echoed through the surrounding area, beating a rhythm with the music that filtered out of the saloon. Inside, the ladies bustled about, serving dinner to guests, knowing they only had a few scant hours before Saturday evening came and they’d make more money pushing liquor, gambling, and other wares. The moment they walked in, several people turned their direction, including Jud Howard.
Jud’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped as the color drained from his cheeks. She strode toward him on James’s arm, but Jud didn’t seem to notice her husband. His gaze was fixed upon her. When he got control of his faculties, he stood. “Abigail, is that you?”
They came to a stop in front of his table. She tilted her head. “Jud Howard, what brings you all the way to Kansas City? Oh! Did you meet my husband? Deputy James Fisher. He used to be Champion of the Kansas City Pugilist Society, too.”
Jud grew pale, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Slowly he nodded. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
James held tightly to her hand on his arm and nodded toward him, the hard look on his face out of character from the James she knew. Seeing him like this still sent a thrill through her. She was learning that she could love all his sides.
She leaned toward him. “James, honey, could we dine here tonight? That roast looks tasty, don’t you think?”
He smil
ed down at her, his face softening as he leaned closer. “Not as good as your cooking, but you deserve a rest tonight. Let’s give the roast a try.”
She nuzzled her nose against his shoulder. “You take such good care of me.” Then she covered her mouth and opened her eyes wider as she peered toward Jud Howard. “Oh, forgive me, Mr. Howard. We sometimes forget we’re in the presence of others, being newlyweds and all. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
He shook his head, his face still pale and stricken. “Thank you for the offer, but I wouldn’t want to impose, and besides, I believe I have to make arrangements for the first train back to Virginia. My business here in Kansas City is done.”
Abby took no pleasure in breaking a man’s heart, and though there was some sadness in Jud’s tone and expression, she felt that he would get over losing her more quickly if she displayed her affection for her husband outright. “Then have a safe trip back. It was lovely to see someone from home way out here. Please let everyone know that Suffolk will always have a special place in my heart.”
He nodded. “I’ll do that.”
Then James guided her to a nearby table, and they ordered their dinner while watching Jud Howard hurry to the upstairs of the saloon. She let out a slow breath before gazing back toward James. His expression softened a bit as they met eyes with each other.
He shook his head. “I never thought I’d have a wife who would brag about my time as a pugilist.”
She shrugged, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “I thought it best to let the man know he shouldn’t do anything stupid, like try to fight you.”