Haven's Flame (Fires of Cricket Bend Book 1)

by Marie Piper

  Callie took her hand. “You’re young. Everyone’s an idiot when they’re young. Where did you get that dress? ”

  Before Haven could respond, a long whistle came down the hallway. When she saw that it was Jack Braxton standing in the door to Callie’s room, she groaned and didn’t try to hide it. Callie she could deal with, but Braxton was another story.

  “I didn’t know you worked here,” he teased, running a hand through his hair in a half-hearted effort to straighten it. It didn’t work.

  Callie looked at him with a ferocious face. “Don’t you get clever. We have to get her out of here before anyone sees her. Did you ride here?”

  Haven felt tears coming to her eyes. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly. “I walked.”

  “Walked!” Braxton cried. “You walked here when—”

  The sound of voices approaching interrupted them. Haven’s heart raced. She knew everyone in Cricket Bend, and the ones she didn’t know well knew either her father or Matthew. If anyone else saw her, she might as well sit back and watch her world crumble.

  Callie practically threw Haven to Braxton, and shoved them both through a door into a small closet full of linens. “Shush, both of you.” She shut the door and they were stuck in the closet with barely room enough for two people. A small window provided a bit of light.

  “Mr. Braxton, for your information, nothing—”

  He clamped a big hand over her mouth. “Shut up.”

  Callie’s loud voice came through the door. “Hello there, darlin’! I was just sitting in my room thinking to myself, I wonder when Jasper will come and pay me another visit. I wasn’t expecting you!”

  Braxton made a little grunt of approval as he listened.

  “Miss Lee,” Jasper replied, “were you really?”

  “Of course I was, sugar,” she replied.

  “I was looking for Mr. Porter,” Jasper said. “He told me to—”

  Callie’s voice shifted tone. “Hank’s real busy right now. Whyn’t you come with me and rest a while?”

  A door creaked open.

  “Mr. Porter,” Jasper's voice grew nervous.

  “Good evening, Jasper,” Hank replied, and Haven heard a coldness in his voice that she knew was her fault. She felt terrible that she’d led him to believe they would spend the evening together. “Callie, everything all right here?”

  “Right as rain, honey,” she replied.

  Haven and Braxton stood silently together. Braxton’s hand stayed tight on her mouth, and Haven felt the roughness of his skin against her face. When the hallway had cleared, he moved his hand away and opened the window. “Ladies first.”

  “You must be joking,” Haven whispered as she realized what he meant.

  Braxton sighed. “You can go out this way, or you can traipse downstairs through a room full of men dressed like that and just pray none of them notice you. But let me say, they’ll notice you. Be hard not to.”

  “Mr. Braxton, please!”

  “Cut the act, peach. A woman doesn’t dress like that and go to the room of a man like Porter to talk scripture or work on needlepoint. Here I was, feelin’ bad for making lewd comments to a proper little lady, when it seems I would have done better slipping you some coins.”

  “You are mistaken.”

  His eyes fixated on her chest, and she looked down to realize her top was off-kilter.

  “I don’t think I am.” He leaned in a little as he spoke.

  Before she thought about it, Haven slapped him as hard as she could. “Remember yourself. You may think you know how I spent this evening, but you are wrong. This whole evening has been nothing but a mistake, and all I want is to get out of here, unseen, and get back to my father and Matthew. If you plan to do anything besides help me, you can just shove off.”

  Steely eyes glared back at her, and she hoped she hadn’t just irritated a beast. He’d hunted men, he’d killed them, and she had just slapped him. She regretted it immediately, adding it to a lengthy list of regrets from that evening.

  Braxton’s face changed. Shaking his head, he grabbed her arm again and boosted her toward the window. Haven looked out as her head went outside. It was only one story up. Even if she fell, she’d likely survive. If the awning was strong enough, she should be fine. Of course, what she’d do once she got out on the awning was another matter entirely.

  “You stay there until I get outside,” Braxton ordered. “Don’t move.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d go on your way,” she said. “This is no concern of yours. I can handle things from—”

  “Sweet Jesus,” he interrupted her, “no wonder Callie calls you Nurse Uppity. Shut your mouth and stay there, would you?”

  “No, thank you,” she replied.

  “Stay there,” he ordered and disappeared. Haven slid down on her bottom to sit crouched in a shadow. From her position, she could see the whole back side of Cricket Bend. She wondered how many people had come and gone on that very awning.

  What a fool she’d been to even come to the saloon in the first place. She’d narrowly avoided the lustful intentions of Hank Porter, much as she’d yearned for them, and now she found herself stuck with Jack Braxton. He seemed to want to help her, though she feared what he might want in exchange. But he just came from Callie’s room, and maybe he’d be satisfied enough for the evening and leave her be. She realized with wonderment that Callie was with Jasper right at that moment, not fifty feet from where she sat. Haven had to remember to ask Callie how in the world her business worked. Haven could barely handle two men with interests in her, and Callie had far more than two admirers.

  If the whole evening hadn’t been so potentially scandalous, it would have made a great story. She’d love to tell Matthew about the adventure of escaping out a window.

  “Matthew,” she whispered to herself, “know that I love you, Lord help me.”

  Braxton reappeared on the street below, rolling a barrel in front of him. He stood it up on its end. “You’re going to have to drop a little, but you should make it.”

  Haven slid down to the edge of the awning on her rear, rolling over onto her belly to swing her legs down over the side. He guided her with words, and she landed fairly gracefully on the barrel.

  Once she was on the ground, Braxton quickly threw his duster over her red dress and helped her onto the back of his horse. They rode out of town quietly and, after they’d gone a ways, he slowed the pace of his stallion. Haven gulped, not knowing what to expect from him.

  Being alone out on the dark plains with Jack Braxton hadn’t been in her plans for the evening.

  “I'm sorry for slapping you,” she said softly.

  He didn’t answer. She couldn’t see his face as she rode behind him, but it took him a moment before he replied. “I don’t spend much time in polite company. Sometimes I forget myself.”

  “Are you going to tell Papa about all this?” She felt the scratchy fabric of his duster against her skin.

  “Nope.”

  “You gonna lecture me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Mr. Braxton—”

  “Stay away from Hank Porter.”

  “I—”

  “You ever been with a man?”

  Haven’s eyes widened, and she sat up and away from him as best she could. “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”

  “I wouldn’t have known, lookin’ like you do, especially in that dress. Seems to me, a woman in your position would be better off holding tight to your fiancé.”

  Haven rolled her eyes, but she was glad he didn’t see. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

  “Well, you know better than to sneak places in the middle of the night when there’s a murderer around, and you still did it.”

  Haven felt ashamed, and tried to remedy it. “Nothing happened between Hank and me.”

  “Ain’t my business if it did.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “You pulled
a knife out of my leg and made me a hot meal. I’m returning the favor.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “You ask too damn many questions.”

  They rode the rest of the way to the Anderson home in silence, and Braxton got her near enough to her window that she was able to hand him back his duster and climb back inside easily. She watched as he rode away, dressed in black, vanishing into the darkness of the night—her rude guardian angel.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Matthew

  As soon as he'd seen Haven ride into town, nothing in the world could have stopped Matthew from charging toward the livery stable after her. After their encounter the other day, he’d found some peace in the act of moving his things into the new home. He'd begun to make repairs to a few little things that needed fixing. There’d even been time to read on the porch as the sun set, and the peace of being in his own home had helped him put things in perspective.

  Then he’d arrived in town that morning, and the world had begun to spin.

  “Haven,” Matthew’s voice startled her, and she jumped. His fingers kept his hat moving in a circle, and he felt ready to burst from fear.

  “Oh, Matthew.” She giggled a little as she composed herself. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were there.”

  “Your father was waiting for me at the jail this morning.”

  “Is that unusual?” Haven shrugged and pulled her bag off her saddle. “Probably wanted to see if there was anything you needed at the house.” She was tired and only half paying attention to their conversation, he could tell. Her twist was loose, and she wore her dullest brown work dress.

  “He wanted to warn me that even though we’re to be married, sneaking off together at night isn’t wise.”

  Haven’s eyes widened. Matthew saw her reaction and knew Luke hadn’t been wrong. He practically yelled the words, “You’re sneaking out now.”

  Haven pretended to be all aflutter. “I’m sorry Papa thought that. I didn’t think he’d notice, honestly. It’s just that yesterday was so hot, and I’m stuck in all these layers all day long, and I was just ready to melt. I did sneak out last night, but it was to go swimming for a bit at the pond. You know the one I mean.”

  Matthew’s heart cracked in his chest as she lied to him with such ease. For all their problems, and he knew they had a few, he didn’t think they’d ever resort to lying to each other. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t keep things from me,” he said quietly, unable to bear not knowing what the shadow behind her eyes meant. As he moved to her side, he spoke in a hard whisper. “I know you, Haven. I’ve known you your whole life. You’re burning up inside, and it’s making you do things you shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sneaking out.”

  “Oh my stars.”

  “It’s Porter, isn’t it?”

  She made a frustrated sound and kicked at the ground. “There’s no such thing as a secret in this damn town, is there?”

  That she hadn’t denied anything wasn’t lost on him. Matthew hoped he had things all wrong. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No!” Haven sighed and looked as if she was about to say something else, but she stopped. For a moment, she closed her eyes. “I went to his room of my own accord.”

  A vision of Haven naked underneath Porter came to his mind, and he closed his eyes against it. He turned his back to her for a moment, clenching his fists. “You tell me what he did to you.”

  “He kissed me. Nothing else happened.”

  “Did you want it to?”

  A moment's hesitation. “I thought I did.”

  “Dammit, Haven!”

  “I thought I did, but I was wrong. It didn’t feel right. So I left. Are you going to tell Papa?”

  Tattling to her father seemed the act of a petulant child, and Matthew felt a man wouldn’t need to do such a thing. “And break his heart? No. This is between us. Because you know as well as I do that I’m gonna be your husband.” He softened his tone a bit. “I’m gonna be your husband, Haven. If you’re going to sneak around with anyone, it should be me. You could have come to me.”

  “You don’t think about things like that,” she scoffed.

  “Maybe you don’t know the half of me.”

  Haven shook her head, and he saw the sadness. “But you can’t even bring yourself to kiss me.”

  Matthew heard the ache in her voice. His heart broke as he realized how she interpreted what he’d intended as polite distance. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to every second of every day. Whatever Porter says to you, whatever he does, I’m the one who loves you.”

  “You’ve never told me that before.”

  “I’m a damn fool, then.”

  “Well, you’re not the only one.”

  They stood looking at each other, inches apart. Matthew looked at the woman he wanted to marry, was going to marry, and realized there was a world inside her he knew nothing about. Proper, delicate Haven was so much more than he knew.

  Haven seemed to find her voice. “Men think women don’t have those kinds of thoughts, but we do. We have them something awful. I know we’ll have a good life, but if all it’ll be is vegetables and babies and chores, then I’m going to lose my mind.” Once she started talking, she couldn’t seem to stop herself, and the words tumbled out. “I love you more than you’ll ever understand. I always have. And I will be a good wife to you, Matthew. But if you think I can live my whole life quiet and proper, you’re wrong. I felt all bottled up and ready to explode. Yes, I went to his room. He wanted me the way I wanted to be desired. It turned out to be a mistake and nothing happened, I swear.” The woman standing in front of him stood tall, and he felt he’d never seen her before in his life. “Hank and I—I don’t love him.”

  Matthew nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “What do we do now, then?”

  “You end whatever it is that you and he have.”

  “I think I ended it last night,” she answered. “He’ll likely never speak to me again.”

  “Make sure,” Matthew said.

  “And then what?”

  He put a hand on her waist, grasped her with the feeling he’d die without her. Leaning in so his cheek brushed hers, he whispered into her ear, “Then I’ll make up for all the years I spent being so damned careful around you. I promise.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Haven

  Haven went home in the afternoon to do her chores and get dressed for the evening’s Women’s Society meeting. Ellie Graham and the other ladies in attendance always used the gatherings as an excuse to show off their fanciest dresses and household accomplishments. There would be tea, cakes, and idle gossip, followed by Laura Harper leading a discussion of important issues concerning the women of Cricket Bend.

  Haven flopped on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. She would have cut off her own foot if it meant she could get out of listening to Mrs. Harper. The woman loved to talk, and she seemed to think everything that happened in town was a personal concern of hers.

  Doc had castor oil at the clinic. Haven had debated drinking a little, just enough to make her too sick to attend the meeting.

  Her eyes went to the red dress she’d neatly folded and set on her dresser until she could figure out how to return it to Callie. Haven knew the business of upstairs girls would be a topic of conversation, and a part of her was dying to hear what the biddies would have to say about it. She owed Callie a lot and hated the idea of her having to leave town. But she also hated the idea of Ellie Graham feeling like she’d gotten the better of Haven after their earlier conversation.

  Haven thought of Callie and the whole town full of women glaring at her. She thought of herself, and how what she’d done with Hank could lead to those same looks. If her indiscretion, even as innocent as it had been, was revealed, she’d be cast out of polite society just the same.

  Women had it har
d, she realized. Men were expected and allowed to roam free and sow their oats wherever they could, but a woman could barely talk to a man without facing ultimate judgment and suffering the consequences.

  Haven remembered the verve in Matthew’s voice in his parting words to her, and the way his hand had taken hold, as if to claim her as his. Though she’d never planned on him finding out what had happened between her and Hank, she felt a wonderful lightness now that he knew. Being honest with him, even if she was forced to be, had been the answer all along.

  Matthew wanted her after all. That was all she needed to know. And the world seemed brighter for it.

  Energized, Haven got off her bed and put on her white dress with the small black flowers. Rarely was a white dress sensible in a dusty town like Cricket Bend, but she aimed to impress, and the ensemble always got compliments.

  Though Lucy Anderson would roll in her grave if she knew how Haven had gone to Hank’s room, she still would never have backed down under the eyes of women like Ellie Graham. Summoning her mother’s strength, Haven twisted her hair into a near-perfect replica of the style Lucy had most frequently worn. She added a bit of rose water, laced up a pair of boots with heels, and went out the door like she was heading off to war.

  She’d take Echo, even though the ride to the Harper’s home was short. There was no sense in pretending her fancy shoes were made for walking.

  ***

  Matthew

  They’d begun to take shifts patrolling the perimeter of the city. Matthew was starting to feel his belly rumble from hunger by the time his shift was done. He passed the Harper place and saw the ladies of town flocking to the ornate home. There wasn’t any sign of Haven yet, but the women milled around on the porch and chattered like birds.

  Matthew didn’t know why he wanted to see Haven so badly. He should have been mad at her. His anger would have been fair, especially after she’d gone to another man’s room, whether anything had happened or not. By rights, he could have broken their engagement, drank himself stupid, and started to think about moving on with his life.