Ace's Wild (Hqn)

by Sarah McCarty

  “We got by all right.”

  “We meaning Hell’s Eight?”

  He nodded. “We were a scraggly lot back then.”

  “You were young.”

  “Young and mad as hell. I had this happy life, and one day there was no more happy, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.”

  She knew how that felt. “It doesn’t feel good to be out of control like that.”

  Or to have the ones around you so lost in grief they forgot you existed. Like her father had for a few years after her mother’s death, losing himself in work and drink while she, well, she’d found comfort where she could. In her books.

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  He was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, but he was still sitting there, and he was still sharing with her. It was more than she’d expected.

  “You like it when you’re out of control with me.”

  The heat started in her toes. It took everything she had to get out, “That was a surprise.”

  His brows rose on that. “What were you expecting to have with a husband?”

  “Setting aside my acceptance that I wouldn’t have a husband?”

  His “Yeah, setting that aside” was a bit dry.

  “I assumed it’d be warm. It’d be comfortable. It’d be soothing.”

  “Damn!” He shook his head and cut her another skeptical glance. “Really?”

  He didn’t have to make it sound so ridiculous. “Yes. Really.”

  “You’d be bored in a minute.”

  “There’s a lid for every pot.”

  He smiled. “You realize you’re not helping your case?”

  “Just because I like what you do to me in bed—”

  “And in the tub and in the alley...”

  She glanced toward the door. “Hush! You have no shame.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  It was too much. “Then start lying!” she snapped.

  He laughed outright. She couldn’t even blame him. “Ace, just because I like that with you, doesn’t mean I want everything else. You want to possess a woman, Ace. With you, a woman wouldn’t have room to breathe.”

  He didn’t deny it, and the part of her that always was hopeful gave a little whimper.

  He took another sip of his coffee. “Some women want to be possessed, need that totality.”

  “I’m not one of them.” Liar, the little voice said.

  Ace pushed his cup aside, his chair back and came around the table. He towered over her. Her heart gave a little lurch as he caught her chin in his hand and lifted her face to his. His eyes were dark with emotion, but his voice was calm, his tone casual.

  “There’s a reason you haven’t married, Pet.”

  Her gaze locked on his lips, she found enough voice to ask, “What’s that?”

  She watched his lips caress the words. Inhaled his intoxicating scent. Remembered how those lips had touched hers intimately, how he’d filled her mind, her senses. Inside, the flames flickered and surged. He had a fabulous mouth. “You’re not on the shelf, my Pet. You’ve simply been waiting for the one man who can make you burn.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE ONE THING she didn’t need, Petunia decided a week later, was another place to burn, because apparently, according to the attitude of the townspeople, she was already slated to burn in hell. She shivered as the wind cut right through her cloak. Not that she’d mind a few stray flames from that pit right now. The heat spell was long gone, and winter was settling in with a vengeance. Pulling her cloak more snugly around her, she hurried down the street.

  She was used to her modern ways of thinking, setting her outside of traditional expectations. But losing her good reputation in a small town where nothing much happened had left her as the only grist for a very hungry rumor mill, and it was a completely new experience. Ace’s sudden disappearance hadn’t helped, either. She didn’t know where he’d gone, just that he had left the morning after his statement about making her burn. And the pressure of the town’s censure combined with the worry over his disappearance and the reasons behind it was telling on her. She couldn’t sleep, and she was as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof.

  Two women approached from the mercantile. Before her unfortunate experience, as she’d come to call it, they would’ve nodded a greeting and had a nice cordial exchange. She would have even looked forward to the chats. But today, just approaching a stranger put butterflies in her stomach. She had no way of knowing if they’d nod, or if they’d pull their skirts away instead. As if what had happened to her were contagious.

  She’d helped other women fight this attitude her whole life. How many times had she advised them to ignore the snubs and dirty looks and remember that they were more than what had happened to them? But she hadn’t truly understood. She’d advised without really understanding the sheer unrelenting, demeaning process of being socially snubbed. On some level, she had thought those women weak, but with the weight of social ostracization now pressing down upon her, she couldn’t believe how brave they’d really been. Or how naive and arrogant she had been in her righteous pursuit of equality. Turning, she pretended an interest in the display in the millinery window. When the women passed by, she resumed walking. She didn’t recognize this cowardly part of herself.

  Luisa, Hester and Maddie were her only friends. And she’d seen how that friendship was costing all of them. No one would go in Maddie’s bakery if she was there. When she ate at Antonio and Luisa’s restaurant, patrons often left or demanded a table farther away from hers. Although Maddie and Luisa had both told her to not worry about such petty people, that she was as welcome as ever, business was business and money was money, and Petunia cared about both of them too much to take them up on that offer.

  She was a social pariah. It was what it was, and her life had become what it had become, but it would go back to normal as soon as she left this town. Discreetly touching her hand to her stomach, she stepped off the walk and crossed to the other side of the street. All around her signs of Christmas abounded, fliers for church services were posted. Store windows were stocked with little trinkets and gifts, hoping to attract buyers. Maddie had put up a sample cake in case anyone might have a big party. Antonio and Luisa were serving a Christmas buffet. School was closed. And the one place that shouldn’t be doing a booming business this time of year, the saloon, was packed.

  She shook her head. A line of horses waited patiently for their owners out front. The stench of manure drifted with the breeze from the area. Jenkins had hired a boy to clean up after the horses, but he hadn’t been as careful as he should’ve been around the animals, and he’d gotten kicked. The result was a broken arm and no one to clean up. She wondered, ruefully, if she’d be considered good enough for that job now. With a wistful glance at the schoolhouse, she kept on. She did miss the children, and couldn’t help worrying about them. She could petition the board to be reinstated, but since the board was comprised of the same people that were snubbing her daily, she didn’t have much hope of getting her job back. Hopefully, the fill-in new teacher was keeping on top of Buster, and spending time with Milly on her letters. That child had the worst time keeping them straight.

  With a sigh and a last glance at the schoolhouse, she stepped up on the walk. Touching a hand into her stomach again, she felt a tickle of worry. It was a bold statement to say she’d go home with her baby, but while she could run away from this town and her reputation, there’d be no running away from a child, no hiding its illegitimacy. Her father’s money could provide her comfort, but it wouldn’t be able to shield her from the talk. Worse yet, it wouldn’t be able to shield her child.

  No child of mine would grow up not knowing his father.

  Ace wanted a child. She slid her fingers to her hip. This child, that might not even exist. He was willing to
marry her. She bit her lip, feeling the walls closing in and her choices narrowing. Ace was not an easy man. On the surface his needs were simple, but she’d seen below the facade, and she hadn’t been speaking lightly when she said he would possess a woman totally. He would. From the inside out. With no secrets and nothing withheld. His woman would belong to him completely. And he was man enough to make her enjoy it. Part of her quivered in breathless anticipation at the thought. A sense of “at last” flowed through her.

  Some women want to be possessed, need that totality.

  Even not knowing what all that meant, she had a feeling she was one of them. But she didn’t want to be or maybe she was just afraid to be who she was. Before Ace, she’d seen herself as a strong, independent woman. But now she was beginning to see herself as a strong, independent woman who wanted a choice.

  But was it really a choice or just a trap? Was this how all women lost themselves? Emotions turning their thoughts to need? And when they acted on that need, succumbed to the temptation of a man’s persuasion, when there was no going back, did they regret the choice? If she gave in to her inner urgings, would she end up just one more woman littering the trail of Ace’s path through life?

  She bit her lip as the wind blew again. This time when a couple approached, she forced herself to keep walking with her chin up and her shoulders back. The man nodded. The woman avoided her gaze. She counted the man’s nod as a victory. And felt a bit more herself, but her mind wouldn’t quiet, because there was one thing that would tip the balance.

  If she was with child, did any of her doubts even matter? She’d chosen to lie down with a man. She’d foolishly disregarded the possible consequences. Did she have a right to foist those consequences upon an innocent child? Then again, was it truly a blessing for a child to be born to parents who were unhappy with each other?

  Who said they had to be unhappy?

  Oh, why did these thoughts persist?

  She didn’t know what to make of any of it. Her mind was chaos. Her soul was aching. And all she wanted was Ace. She hadn’t seen him since the day they’d put up the Christmas tree—the tree that was supposed to represent all that hope, yet hers had just come to a screeching halt. She wasn’t even sure who to blame for that. Ace, because she’d wanted him to pursue her despite her rejection or herself because she wanted what she shouldn’t have. The man had made his intentions clear. She’d turned him down. For anyone that would be the end of it. It was only in her mixed-up mind that it should be a beginning.

  Rubbing her forehead, she only knew one thing that could help calm her nerves. She needed a cinnamon roll.

  She was across the street before she saw who was coming up the walk toward her. Wonderful. Her day only needed this. Brian Winter. Instinct said run. Pride said no way in heck. No matter how unpleasant this encounter, she wasn’t running from it. As he got a little closer, she could see the smirk on his face. This wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  He hated her, and she had a hefty dislike for him. He’d gotten brave since her kidnapping. Even trying to come around and see Terrance. Hester had greeted him with the shotgun. It’d dissuaded him somewhat. But he’d turned his frustration onto her. Hester told her to tell Ace, but Petunia couldn’t go running to the man every time she had a problem. She had to learn to make her own way. Which didn’t mean she was foolish. She’d accepted a gun from Hester. She kept it in her pocket next to the letter she’d written to her father asking for help but wouldn’t allow herself to send. The gun wasn’t big, but it would do the job. Patting it through the material, she forced a smile. She’d shoot the bastard if she had to.

  But she wasn’t of a mind to shoot anyone today, and she really didn’t want to hear any of his venom. The mercantile stood between them. She quickened her pace, hoping to get to the door first. If she ducked inside he’d move on, and she’d be spared his comments for another day. But his legs were longer and he got there ahead of her. Leaning up against the doorjamb, he waited. For one heartbeat, she considered turning back, but his arrogant, know-it-all grin ticked her off. She’d be damned if she’d run from the likes of him.

  Lifting her chin, she kept calmly walking, daring him with every step to say something. It was a mistake. Her father used to tell her Never dare a fool. And Brian Winter was a huge fool on his best day. Today was no different. As soon as she got close enough for her destination to be clear, he shifted his position so she wouldn’t be able to get through the mercantile door without brushing up against him indecently.

  “Well, well, well. Look what we have here.”

  With no other choice, she was forced to stand there clutching her reticule. “Excuse me.”

  That smirk of his broadened. “The way I hear it, there’s a whole lotta people whose pardon you should be begging.” He hitched up his pants. “Acting all high-and-mighty, like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, but you’re nothing more than a Comanche whore.”

  She hadn’t expected nice, but she hadn’t expected such an open insult. In a chilling rush, the blood drained from her face, leaving her cheeks cold and her hands shaking. She’d suffered a lot of slights over the past week, but no one had dared confront her. But she had dared a fool, and there was a price to pay for that.

  Counting to three, she steadied her breath and said in the calmest voice she could muster, “You really are lacking in common decency, aren’t you?”

  “Why? Because I call a spade a spade?”

  “Because you don’t have the sense God gave a gnat.”

  He leaned in. “I’ve got enough sense to see through you.”

  His breath hit her like a blow. “I wish you had the sense to brush your teeth.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “You stink of liquor.”

  “And you stink of Comanche.”

  “If that offends you, then maybe you’d do well to stay away.”

  “Or maybe you need to spend some time with someone else.” He leered suggestively.

  “I presume you mean yourself?”

  He leaned a little closer. The stench of stale sweat joined the stench of liquor. “Why not?”

  Because you’re an idiot. A drunk and a brute. It wouldn’t be wise to say that, but she wanted to. Oh, dear heavens, she wanted to. Gritting her back teeth on the impulse, she made to duck under his arm. Before she could complete the move, he slammed his hand across the doorjamb, blocking her way. It was a bold move. It was a public move. It said more than anything else that he had no fear of repercussions. She should have been afraid. She slipped her hand in her pocket.

  “Move your arm.”

  “Give me a kiss.”

  She eyed the fourth button down on his pants. If he pushed her, that’s where she was aiming her gun. She doubted it would be a lethal shot, but she bet it would be memorable. “We’re standing in the middle of the street.”

  His eyebrows went up. Excitement tightened his voice. He truly was disgusting. “Are you saying you’d give me one if it were private?”

  “I’m saying you’re an obnoxious boor to proposition a good woman in the middle of the street.”

  His tone deepened. “But you’re not a good woman, are you? How many was it?” He was so close she could see the food particles stuck in his crooked lower teeth. “I heard tell it was upward of twenty.”

  She changed her mind. She was shooting him right in his filthy mouth. She said in her best schoolmarm voice, the one that always worked before, “It wouldn’t matter if I had willingly and eagerly laid down for an entire battalion, your behavior right now is unacceptable.”

  A bluff backed by years of social respect. Brian didn’t even bat an eyelash. A glance down the street showed many onlookers, but no one willing to help her. She was clearly on her own.

  “As I said, you’re not one to be preaching about proper behavior.”

  She couldn’t take his sten
ch much longer without losing her breakfast.

  “It makes me sick to think about my poor little boy stuck over at the house with you,” he went on. “No telling what shenanigans you get up to at night. What he’s been forced to see.” He paused and then added, “Maybe even forced to do.”

  That was it. She was done. “You are a disgusting toad, and next time Ace or Luke gets a notion to shoot you, I’m going to cheer them on.”

  “The hell you will.”

  The hell she wouldn’t. Shoving against his arm, she tried to force her way by. He defeated her with the simple downward movement of his arm. It took everything in her to suppress a gasp. She wasn’t used to this level of disrespect. Harder still to realize no one was going to come to her aid. She took a step backward, closing her hand around the butt of the derringer. When Hester had given it to her, it’d felt like a hefty piece of weaponry, but now it felt woefully inadequate. Common sense said at this range a bullet was a bullet, but emotion wasn’t logical. And right now one of those big old buffalo guns would suit her just fine. The man wasn’t just stupid, he was dangerous in a rabid animal sort of way. One had to move carefully around a rabid animal. They couldn’t be trusted.

  Reluctantly letting go of the derringer, she slowly took her hand out of her pocket. With the same deliberate concentration, she rubbed her hands together in front of her, gathering her strength. Then, before Brian knew what she was doing, she punched the heel of her hand into the inside of his elbow. His hand dropped.

  “What the—”

  Before he could complete the sentence, she pushed hard against his chest. In the second he was off balance, she shoved past him and into the relative safety of the store. Blinking against sun blindness, she felt for the corner counter that defined the center aisle. Through a combination of touch and squint, she followed it straight back until the haberdashery counter gave her no option but to stop. Heart pounding, she leaned against the glass display. Around her, bright ribbons, shiny buttons and colorful threads filled the space with a cheery presence. Pretending an interest in ribbons she didn’t really have, she watched out of the corner of her eye to see if Brian would follow her inside. Her heart stuck in her throat as he put both hands on the doorjamb and leaned, in trying to see through the dimness. He slammed the jamb in frustration.