In Your Arms

by Goings, Rebecca

  Champagne Books Presents

  In Your Arms

  By

  Rebecca Goings

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Champagne Books

  www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright © 2006 by Rebecca Goings

  ISBN 1897261071

  April 2006

  Cover Art © Chris Butts

  Produced in Canada

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to anyone who still loves to read a good historical western romance. There’s just something dangerously sexy about a man who rides a horse and wears guns…

  One

  Gideon’s Gulch, Texas, 1875

  Melissa Bloom swept the planks of the boardwalk outside her father’s general store. Why did she even bother? The hot summer breeze seemed to blow more dust onto the walk than she could keep up with, making her stomp her foot in frustration with every sweep of her broom. Loose tendrils of her dark red hair fell out of the long braid hanging down her back and stuck to her face. She sighed as she as she tucked them behind her ears. Even her hair was uncooperative today.

  She was hot, sticky, and irritated that her sister Shirley had stuck her with such a menial task. After leaning the broom against the outer wall of the store in defeat, Melissa sagged next to it, wiping her damp brow with the sleeve of her tan-colored dress. The breeze did nothing to cool her heated skin and felt more like the Devil’s own breath as it whisked its way down the main street of Gideon’s Gulch.

  Not many people were out on the road, evidently choosing to stay cool inside rather than face the heat of the day themselves. Melissa suspected that was also the reason behind Shirley’s plea that she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t possibly do the sweeping today. Melissa scowled as she mused that the real reason behind Shirley’s illness was that she didn’t want anyone to see her sweat.

  Long touted as one of the prettiest girls in the Gulch, Shirley prided herself on her looks. Even though Melissa was her sister, they were as different as night and day. Where Shirley was outgoing and delicately beautiful, with her strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes, Melissa seemed to be her opposite--plain, ordinary, and shy. Hardly a man of the Gulch gave her the time of day, and long had she resented her sister for it.

  Apparently, Melissa just wasn’t marriage material, having seen twenty-four years without a single proposal while Shirley, on the other hand, was barely twenty and had already received countless requests for matrimony. Yet she had turned them all down, claiming she still hadn’t found the love of her life.

  Melissa had learned to keep any men she might have fancied to herself, because once they met her sister, never again would they find her attractive. Melissa often wished her sister would find love soon. If Shirley would marry and leave the Gulch as she hoped, maybe Melissa would get a fighting chance at her own happiness.

  Even though she refused to sweep the boardwalk any longer, Melissa still did not slink inside for relief. She didn’t hate her sister, but it was on days like this when she simply couldn’t stand to be around her. And Melissa knew Shirley was inside the store at this moment, fanning herself as she sat behind the counter of the store. It was hot inside as well, but not nearly as sweltering as it was out in the sun.

  A small roof hung over the walk near the front door of the store and offered her a small amount of shade. Right in front of her was the water trough she filled every morning for the horses of riders who stopped by the store to purchase this or that. At the moment, Melissa was tempted to dunk her head into the water to cool off, propriety be damned.

  She giggled at the thought, and imagining the look of horror that would be on Shirley’s face should she actually deign to do it made her laugh even harder. Her resentment for her sister seemed to melt away as she closed her eyes and smiled, leaning her head back against the wall.

  “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here in this heat?”

  Snapping up her head, Melissa pushed herself from the wall to face a man on horseback not more than a few feet away in the street. How had he managed to sneak up on her? Smoothing back her hair, she cleared her throat and looked at him. Coherent thought fled her mind as her eyes took in the sight before her.

  The horse was black and beautiful with only a single stripe of white running down his face. At the moment, his big black head was lowered, and he was taking large gulps of water from the trough. His rider tipped his hat at her. Dark eyes peered from underneath the hat’s shadow, while a deep-blue shirt clung to his frame. A few buttons were undone at the collar, revealing a generous amount of his bronzed chest with just a hint of hair. Black jeans encased his muscular legs, and a gun belt circled his hips. The man was perhaps one of the most handsome she’d ever laid eyes on.

  He pushed his hat up on his head, exposing damp, dark hair underneath. A straight nose and chiseled features revealed themselves to her and made her gasp involuntarily. He smiled as Melissa blushed and realized that many silent moments had passed since he’d asked his question. His smile made her knees weak for some reason, and she reached back with her hand to once again lean against the wall.

  He dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post. “You got a name, ma’am?”

  Licking her lips, Melissa tried her best not to tremble at the sound of his voice. “My… my name is Melissa, sir, but most folks call me Lissa.”

  “Well then, Lissa,” he said, grinning with an outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marcus McCaide.”

  For long seconds, she stared at his hand before she took it in a friendly handshake. It was warm and firm against hers, sending a fresh wave of shivers through her. Never in her life had she seen a man more fine-looking than the one standing before her, and she drank him in as if he were a cool glass of water.

  “I’m new in these parts, and I was wondering if perhaps you could tell me of some honest work that might need to be done around here.”

  He was looking at her expectantly, and every nerve ending in her body began screaming. She could feel her heart beating faster as her breathing came in short, labored gasps. Smiling nervously, she pointed with a thumb to the general store behind her.

  “My father… he’s looking for a good man to help stock the store from time to time. He just has me and my sister to help him, but sometimes we’re just not strong enough to lift some of the sacks of flour and sugar.”

  Leaning back, Marcus looked up at the sign above the door that read Chuck’s General Store.

  “Your father is Chuck?” he asked with a grin.

  Melissa nodded and looked away, unable to keep eye contact with him. What right did she have to think about this man as handsome anyhow? If he stuck around long enough, he couldn’t help but meet her sister. Once that happened, Melissa would never have another conversation with him again. Suddenly, she tried to find something--anything--to keep this man outside with her just a little longer while she basked in knowing he had no clue her sister Shirley even existed.

  “What’s your horse’s name? He’s beautiful,” she said, clearing her throat once again.

  Looking back at the horse absently swiping the flies away with a flick of its tail, Marcus leaned over to scratch his nose. “This is Pete.”

  “Pete?” Melissa was unable to keep the smile from her voice.

  “Yeah, Pete. Why the
grin?”

  Melissa’s smile grew wider, her dark green eyes sparkling. “I figured as black as he is, you might have named him Midnight or Black Angel or some such.”

  Marcus chuckled as he glanced at her sideways, making her heart skip a beat. “Nah.” He shook his head. “He’s always looked like a Pete to me. I’ve had him since he was a colt. Got me out of some rough places right quick.”

  That comment drew her eyes back to his guns, but she was too polite to ask him about it. A man wore guns for many reasons, and Melissa would rather not know why Marcus wore them.

  “S’pose I should go in and have a talk with your pa then, Lissa.”

  She bit her lip as he said her name casually, her heart fluttering inside her chest. With a sigh of resignation, she watched as he reached for the door handle. Before he could grasp it, the door opened and Shirley popped out her head.

  “Lissa, who are you talking to?”

  Melissa witnessed for herself the change in Marcus. He stared at Shirley as if he’d just been punched in the gut, his mouth hanging wide open. Melissa’s flimsy hopes that he wouldn’t be attracted to Shirley fell with Marcus’s jaw.

  “Well, hello.” Shirley smiled as she offered her hand daintily.

  Marcus accepted it as if she were made of glass. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed it softly. “Hello, Miss. My name is Marcus. Marcus McCaide.”

  The husky timbre of his voice wasn’t lost on Melissa as she watched him smile up at her sister. She tried her best not to be jealous that he hadn’t tried to kiss her hand, but she failed miserably. Shirley giggled and ushered him inside the small general store as the door closed quietly behind them.

  Melissa was left alone on the boardwalk with a heavy heart, staring sadly at the black horse regarding her with curious eyes.

  Two

  Forgotten so easily, tears filled Melissa’s eyes while she scratched the nose of Marcus’s horse. Pete tossed his head a few times, sniffing around the pockets in her skirt.

  “I’m sorry, Pete,” she said with a sniffle. “I don’t have any sugar for you. Apparently, the only one with any sugar in this Gulch is my sister.”

  The horse stomped its foot and sighed as if he understood her bitter words.

  “I do think we have some carrots inside though. Would you like a carrot?”

  Pete nudged her shoulder with his nose and made her smile.

  “All right. I’ll go get you a carrot, boy.”

  After taking the three steps to the door, Melissa opened it and walked in. The room was refreshingly cool despite the heat of the day, and she gave her eyes a moment to adjust. She could hear her sister’s giggles from the back counter. Her father’s voice could also be heard asking questions of the man she’d just met outside.

  Wandering over to one of the back walls, she examined the baskets of produce. Upon finding the bushel of carrots, she grabbed a large one and clutched it to her chest as she turned toward the voices. Maybe Marcus would let her take care of his horse. If she had to listen to her sister’s shameless flirtations all day, she’d go insane.

  “Excuse me, Mr. McCaide?” she called out timidly. Her father smiled, his bald head shining with perspiration as he pushed his round spectacles further up on his nose. He was handsome for an older man, or so her mother had said before she’d passed away a few years back. He was lean and fit, but his aching joints sometimes got the better of him. Having Marcus work in the store would be a blessing indeed.

  Shirley stood close to Marcus, almost rubbing her shoulder against his. Melissa knew she did that on purpose to make sure Marcus could smell her rose-water perfume. With a sigh, Melissa glanced up at his handsome face.

  From this angle, she could see his eyes were a light shade of brown if not gold in color, and she desperately wanted to look deeply into them. But his gaze was so intense it seemed to look right through her. She glanced away, her cheeks on fire as she stared at the floor clutching the carrot with whitened knuckles.

  “Hey there, Lissa,” Marcus drawled as he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I was just wondering where you’d gone off to.”

  Melissa closed her eyes and bit her lip, knowing all too well that he’d thought no such thing. Not when his gaze softened as it rested on Shirley every now and again.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir,” she began, looking at the floor as if it were the most important thing in the world, “but I was wondering if you might want me to take your horse to the livery stable. Maybe I could give him this carrot.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to, ma’am,” Marcus replied. “I was planning on doing that myself after I chat with your pa.”

  “Well, it’s very hot outside, sir, and it’s no problem at all. I… I wouldn’t mind.”

  There was a long silence before Shirley decided to chime in. “Don’t worry about her, Mr. McCaide. Our Lissa loves to get dirty with the horses in the stables.”

  Melissa ground her teeth together at that comment from her sister, regardless of its truth. When said that way, it didn’t paint her in a very pretty light. Shirley’s words just confirmed in Melissa’s mind that Marcus would never look twice at her.

  “All right then,” he said. “Go on ahead. I’m sure Pete’ll love the attention.”

  Chancing a glance at him, Melissa noticed Marcus was giving her a teasing grin. She was sure thoughts of soiled dresses and manure-smelling perfume were drifting through his head at that moment, and Shirley’s look of jest told her that if he wasn’t thinking it, she certainly was.

  Their father stood behind them, shaking his head in pity when Melissa glanced at him. He seemed to be the only one in the Gulch who could ever read her moods. Nodding at Marcus, she turned and slipped out of the room as quietly as she could. Tucking the carrot into the pocket of her apron, she untied Pete’s reins and led him down the street.

  “I like you, Pete,” she said as she scratched him under his forelock.

  He tossed his head a few times but followed her without complaint to the livery stable.

  “Butch!” she called out through the open double-doors. “Butch, are you here?”

  “That you, Lissa?” Butch’s gravelly voice answered as he mopped his brow with a handkerchief and exited one of the stalls. A stained white shirt clung to his rotund body as the top half of his overalls hung useless at his waist. Thinning black hair was slicked back from his face that bore a wide smile as usual. Butch always allowed Melissa to help him take care of the horses he housed.

  “Yes it is,” she said with a grin. “I have Pete here, a new horse that belongs to Mr. Marcus McCaide. He’d like to reserve a stall.”

  “Sure, sure. I have one ready right down this way.” Leading her down the corridor of the stables, Butch indicated an open and empty stall. “Here you go. You gonna rub him down, or should I?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “All right. I reckon you might know how better than I do.”

  Smiling, Melissa led the black horse into the stall and closed the sliding door behind her. “Thank you, Butch.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He chuckled as he turned to walk back to his work.

  After unbuckling Pete’s bridle, Melissa took it off and hung it from a nail on the wall. With his bridle gone, she pulled out the carrot and let him munch on it.

  “Told you I’d bring you a carrot,” she whispered, amazed at how beautiful the creature was. “You’re just as good-looking as your owner, you know that, Pete?”

  Smiling to herself, she leaned down to unbuckle the girth strap and pulled the saddle off his back. She managed to lower it gently into the corner despite its weight. Taking a rag from another nail, she proceeded to rub down the horse, making sure not an inch of him went untouched.

  The horse seemed to sigh in contentment. After his rubdown, Melissa grabbed the curry comb and brushed his coat while whispering soothing words. His ears pricked back and forth as his eyes closed, and she had to grin at that.

  �
�Looks like you’re spoiling him,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

  Whipping around, she saw Marcus leaning against the doorframe of the stall, regarding her with a raised brow. How long had he been standing there?

  “I love horses,” she confessed, turning away to hide her sudden blush. He was just too handsome by half, propped on his shoulder with his arms crossed like that. “Did you get the job?”

  “Indeed I did. You have a right nice family.”

  Her comb stopped in mid-stroke. Closing her eyes with disappointment, she sighed at the reminder of her sister and resumed her brushes with vigor. “Yes, my father is a wonderful man. Very nice. Very compassionate.”

  “And your sister is…”

  “Very beautiful, I know.” She spat before she could stop it.

  “I was going to say charming.”

  “Charming, beautiful, it’s all the same with Shirley.”

  “Do I detect some hostility?” he teased.

  “I’d rather not talk about it, Mr. McCaide.”

  After a long pause, he drawled, “Please, the name’s Marcus.”

  “All right. Marcus.” A few more moments of silence passed. “Pete loved his carrot.”

  “I’ll bet he did. He’s been eating nothing but yellowed grass recently. This is the first town I’ve been to in quite awhile.”

  Pulling away from the horse, Melissa replaced the comb on the wall and turned to go. She needed to leave. Being in this man’s presence did nothing for her state of mind. Her hands were already shaking as she faced him in the doorway, but she couldn’t bring herself to look any higher than his boots. He made no move to get out of the way.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “For what?” She could barely bring herself to meet his eyes.

  “For taking care of Pete. Seems to be just what he needed.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Would… would you like to freshen up some? I can fetch you some clean water.”