Way Out West

by Blanche Marriott

  “There won’t be one. This is Friday. They’ll stay in town until the next group of guests leaves on Sunday.” Rand bit back an odd mixture of mirth and irritation. “This isn’t an amusement park where you wait in line for the next ride. It’s an honest-to-goodness real life town and the sooner you get used to that idea, the better off you’ll be.”

  “Then, I’ll walk.” She defiantly turned her head in the direction of the narrow road.

  He shook his head. “It’s at least three miles of bumpy, rocky, rut-filled dirt road peppered with horse droppings as big as land mines.” He looked down at her shuffling boots. “Ought to do wonders for your aching feet.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” she pleaded. “I can’t ride.”

  His smile came easily. “My offer is still open. I’ll be glad to assist you.”

  She glared at him but flinched when the horse’s tail twitched near her face. Grimacing, she turned a delicate heel and walked around them.

  “Fine, I’ll get a horse.”

  Rand slid down from the saddle, pulling the mount behind him, and caught up with her as she tromped toward the stable. “Haven’t you ever been on a horse?”

  She stared straight ahead. “Yeah. On a merry-go-round.”

  He laughed out loud. “Seriously. You’ve never ridden?”

  “Seriously, no!”

  “Not even on a pony ride when you were a kid?”

  She stopped and glowered at him. “We lived in the city. Pony rides weren’t a major attraction.”

  Rand surrendered, raising up his hands. “Didn’t mean to pry. Like the manual says, you don’t have to divulge your private life.”

  He continued behind her, leading his horse in silence. Her hips swayed as she moved with purpose in her step. He studied the tight-fitting dress and knew she’d never get in the saddle that way. This should be interesting.

  “What are you smiling at?” she asked when they reached the stable.

  He adjusted his hat. “Just wondering how you’re going to manage that skirt.” He tied his horse and went into the stable, leaving her staring down at her dress. “Slim!” he called ahead, “You got a nice quiet mare for this lady?”

  She waited outside, remembering how the smells inside had almost taken her breath away when she hid from Spider.

  So did the sight of Rand, for that matter. The man was positively...masculine. She’d felt his eyes on her as she walked ahead of him. He was a gentleman in character, yet there was a subtle undercurrent that oozed with every move and word.

  She wondered where he came from and what he did for a living. She sure couldn’t picture him at a desk. He seemed too physical to be tied to an indoor job. Yet, he looked comfortable in a suit and his manners were practiced.

  Maybe he was just good at role playing, like her. Heck, she’d played a perfect daughter, a studious college student, an attentive fiancée. She’d even pretended to enjoy riding on the back of a motorcycle.

  No reason she couldn’t pretend she liked this job.

  Rand emerged with a tired-looking horse. She laughed at the sight of the determined man pulling the reluctant beast.

  “What did you do, wake her up?”

  “Now, now. Old Sally’s a fine animal. Aren’t you girl?” He patted the hanging head. “Come on, I’ll hoist you up.”

  Callie suspiciously eyed his cupped hands waiting to take her foot. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “Do you want to try climbing up on your own?” His gaze skimmed her dress again.

  She tried spreading her legs to see how far the skirt went, but it wasn’t far enough for her to get her foot in the stirrup. She took a step closer to Rand.

  “Okay, but you better not drop me.”

  “Ma’am, I’d just as soon stomp on my hat than drop you.”

  She frowned. Was that a good thing? She placed an unsteady foot in his palms and one hand on the horse. Rand started lifting her but her leg wobbled.

  “Lock your knee,” he instructed.

  When she did, she felt herself sail through the air and she grabbed for the saddle. Unfortunately, she landed with her stomach across the curved leather and knew if she moved she’d do an unceremonious slide off the snorting animal.

  “Help me!” she said with a grunt.

  “Sorry, ma’am, but you were supposed to land on your backside, not your stomach. You can’t very well ride like that.” She heard the laughter in his voice, but all she could see was the hard, dusty ground far below her.

  “I know that. Help me down.”

  Strong hands grabbed at her waist. They held her for a tad longer than seemed necessary before guiding her down the side of the saddle and gently setting her on her feet.

  Callie looked up at the brown eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat, eyes that shimmered with amusement. Pushing back a few strands of hair, she felt a flush on her face and knew it was as much from his touch as from being upside down.

  “Okay. Let’s try that one more time.” She breathed heavily. “This time tell me when you’re lifting.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll count to three.” Rand poked his hat back. “Put your hand on my shoulder to steady yourself.”

  She had a feeling he was getting far too much pleasure from this, but she did as he said and lifted her foot to his hands.

  “One, two, three.”

  She sailed into the air again, this time landing on her bottom with her legs dangling off one side. But the awkward shape of the saddle made her squirm and she wobbled uncertainly.

  “Grab the horn,” Rand yelled.

  “What?”

  “The horn, hang on to it.”

  Horn? What horn? She turned to look for something to grab and when she did, she began to slip down. Instantly, he was at her waist again, his hands guiding her to the ground once more.

  “I can’t do this! It’s impossible in this dress.”

  Rand looked around. Everyone had gone. They were alone. “Look, forgive my forwardness, but perhaps if you hiked up your skirt we could get your leg over the saddle.

  Callie narrowed her eyes and stood with her hands on her hips for a minute, allowing her frustration to settle. Letting out a huff of air, she bent down to her calves and lifted her hem, not at all sure why she listened to him. She brought the skirt knee high, straightened up and looked him in the eye.

  “Are you sure there’s no other way into town?” she asked skeptically.

  “Positive.” His mustache twitched as he hid a smile.

  Rolling her eyes in despair, she lifted the skirt higher, testing to see how far she could spread her knees. By the time the skirt was at the middle of her upper legs, she knew she’d never get them far enough apart without revealing a whole lot of flesh. Watching Rand raise his hat and mop his brow on his sleeve, she knew he’d come to the same realization.

  She quickly dropped the hem. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Rand let out a breath. “Don’t you have bloomers on?”

  “What do I need bloomers for? These clothes are hot enough without more underneath.”

  “A proper lady always wears bloomers.”

  A proper lady? Was he joking? “And what does a proper lady do when she can’t get on a horse and ride?”

  Rand stared for a minute, letting his brown eyes pierce her gaze with that knowing, mirthful look. Callie bristled at his delayed response but warmed to the appreciation in his eyes.

  “Why, she allows the gentleman to take her on his horse,” he said, mischief tainting his mellow tone.

  Turning, she stared at the large black horse that stamped impatiently and the saddle that didn’t look big enough for one, let alone two.

  But what choice did she have? They could stay here all day, trying to get her up on her own saddle. If they succeeded, there was no guarantee she’d stay on it for the three-mile ride. And even if she did, she had no idea how to steer the thing!

  She swung back to face Rand, her arms folded across her midriff.
“Okay, let’s do it. I’m getting tired of standing out here in the hot sun.” She nodded at the mare. “So is Sally.”

  Flashing a broad smile, Rand led Sally back into the stable and emerged a moment later with a distinct strut. With his black tailored suit and self-assured carriage, he was a perfect match for the magnificent stallion. She handed him her parcel, which he slipped into the saddlebag.

  “It won’t be the most comfortable ride,” he said, almost apologetically, “but at least you’ll be safe.” He slapped the saddle. “Are you ready?”

  “How are we going to do this?” She bit her lip nervously.

  “With your permission, I’m going to lift you onto the saddle sideways. Then I’ll mount behind you.”

  Her eyes widened. “How come you didn’t lift me before?”

  He shrugged casually. “Would you have stayed on?”

  Good point. “Okay. Just don’t let me fall.”

  Rand read the trusting plea in her eyes as he bent down to cinch her waist. His fingers felt the softness of her curves and the warmth of her skin through the light cotton fabric. His throat went dry, parched like the land they were about to travel.

  His legs as shaky as a colt’s, he lifted her featherweight form up to the saddle and held her steady. The beauty of her face melted his reserve as she blinked with relief that she’d made it up safely.

  “Now, grab the saddle horn and hold on.” Rand removed his hat and mopped his brow again. This was not what he’d planned for the week. He’d come to get away from his hectic life. A saucy lady wasn’t in his cards.

  He placed his hat back on his head, laced the reins over the horse’s mane, and grabbed the horn. “Hang on,” he warned as the saddle shifted with his weight in the stirrup. Before she could lose her balance, he’d settled himself behind her and snaked an arm around her middle.

  “You okay?” he murmured close to her ear. When she nodded, he inhaled the freshness of her golden hair while pressing her to his chest. “Are you ready to hit the trail?”

  She turned her head and looked soulfully into his eyes. “No, but what choice do I have? I made a commitment and I’m here for the duration.”

  Rand smiled at her anguish. She had as much spirit as guts. “I like a woman of commitment.”

  He spurred the horse into motion, thinking, what an interesting week this could turn out to be.

  Chapter Two

  They rode in silence for the first few minutes. Callie assumed Rand was quiet because he was uncomfortable. She knew she was quiet because she was scared.

  Scared of the horse, scared of the man. She’d never met anyone like Rand. He spoke his mind with the gentleness of a breeze. His words soothed and excited at the same time. He gave genuine compliments—not whistles or catcalls like Spider’s unseemly friends—which warmed her to her toes.

  She could get used to that. For too long, her choice in men left her feeling useless, worthless, and most of all used. The day she walked out on Spider she promised never again to allow herself to be used. Time to grow up and be somebody.

  And that meant caution with Rand. He was a visitor to the town and she was a temporary employee. She didn’t know, nor could she ask, who he was or where he came from, or if his real name was Rand. For that matter, he might not even be a gentleman. Way Out West was a fantasy. He could be playing a role like everyone else in this make-believe western town. The guests paid for a chance to live out a fantasy until their time was up; then they went back to reality.

  Well, to Callie it wasn’t a fantasy, it was desperation. Her chance to run from Spider and her non-committal life. Even though cowboys and westerns weren’t on her list of favorite things, she’d be safe here until she earned enough to get home and finish the education she’d started so long ago.

  And she wouldn’t run out on this commitment. The city girl from Massachusetts had run out on her fiancé, had run from her parents’ home, and now she’d run from Spider. She’d been running all her life. It was about time she stood still.

  Rand shifted behind her, awakening all her senses. The creaking of the saddle reminded her of her rides with Spider and the sound of his jacket when she’d wrap her arms around him. How different. This time she was in front, sitting sideways with a man’s arm around her, not hanging on for dear life as they moved at top speed. Rather, she was held gently as the contented horse plodded along with nothing but time to spare.

  Chancing a glance back at the handsome man in black, she noted the neatly trimmed sideburns and freshly shaven face. Spider had avoided razors and scissors preferring the unkempt look. Yes, Rand the gambler was a sight better than what she was used to. Not that she was interested, of course.

  He interrupted her thoughts. “How long is your duration?”

  “Huh?”

  “Exactly how long did you sign up for?”

  “To the end of October, one month. I’ll see how it goes. In three weeks I have the option to sign on for more.”

  “Do you think you will?”

  “I kind of doubt it, but right now I don’t have a whole lot of options.” In fact, she had none. No job, no future, no place to live. But he didn’t ask. And if he had, did she want to admit her string of failures—men, education, family, commitment? If nothing else, she had to prove to herself she could stick it out for a month. The rest would have to wait.

  The rhythm of Rand’s body bumping against hers as they plodded along made her agonizingly aware of his silent presence. That and his masculine scent, a strong mixture of leather and spice. She caught herself inhaling, eyes closed, wishing she could nuzzle his neck to fill her nostrils with it.

  Opening her eyes, she looked back at him. “Aren’t you going to ask what I do on the outside?”

  His hat shadowed his eyes. “Nope. While you’re here, it’s not important. We respect everyone’s privacy.”

  “Right. So you won’t be telling me what you do either.”

  Rand’s mustache twitched and he lowered his head to whisper near her ear, “It’s not important.” She shivered at the intimacy of his response.

  Suddenly, the horse shied violently and reared. Rand tightened his grip on Callie’s waist and kicked the trembling animal forward until it returned to the ground. She gasped and turned to cling to him as he brought the animal to a slithering halt.

  “Okay, it’s okay,” he soothed. “It was just a little rabbit crossing the road. Calm down.”

  Shaking, she whimpered, “I can’t. I’m too scared.”

  A laugh rumbled in Rand’s chest. “I meant the horse.”

  “Oh.” She pushed away from his chest.

  He pulled her back. “But if you feel safer hanging on to me, who am I to argue with a lady?”

  She looked up into his eyes. They seemed to simmer with a heat that squeezed the breath from her lungs. She watched his gaze drop to her lips and felt herself moving toward him. But was that what a lady would do? He seemed to take this lady thing seriously. Would a lady kiss a gentleman without even knowing his last name?

  No. She didn’t feel safe at all. And she sure didn’t feel like a lady. Callie let her hands fall from his shoulders and stammered, “I...I guess I can hang on to the horn instead.”

  Rand sighed and slumped back in the saddle. “It won’t be much longer. There’s the town up ahead.”

  She peered over the horse’s head down the bumpy dirt road. A white church steeple rose in the distance, the afternoon sun glinting stars off the metal cross. As they drew closer, the whole building came into view with its narrow stained glass windows and its double doors swung wide to let in the fresh air.

  “They have a church?” she asked in amazement.

  “Yes, they have a church. And,” leaning over her shoulder, his cheek touching hers as he pointed, “there’s the telegraph office, the blacksmith shop, the general store, the saloon, the sheriff’s office. It’s all here, Callie. It’s a real town.”

  She stared at the sights growing larger as they approached. Like
a scene right out of a movie, people in western garb went about their business and horses were tied to posts. The reality of what the next four weeks of simple living and plain people would be like began to sink in.

  “I just never expected...I don’t know what I expected.”

  “I know you’re here to do a job, but I’d really like to show you the real Way Out West, show you why it’s so special.”

  She looked at him. “How long are you here for?”

  He hesitated a moment. “A week.”

  “A week! That’s all?” Her heart suddenly grew heavy in her chest. She’d already begun to enjoy his company, but when the week was out he’d be gone from her life without her knowing who he was or where he came from.

  “I make it a point to come as often as possible. I’d like to stay forever, but I do have a life on the outside.”

  “Which is?” He gave her a half smile and a wink. “I know,” she sighed, “don’t ask.”

  He tightened his hold around her waist. “While I’m here, my other life is far away.”

  Though his hold reassured her, a bothersome thought nudged at the back of her mind. Did that life include a wife?

  Just then, they passed through an arched gateway. Rand leaned to murmur near her ear, “Let me be the first to welcome you to Way Out West.”

  His gentle tone filtered through her veil of apprehension about the town, about the man. While both held their arms open to her, she didn’t know which one made her more jittery. But she knew which one would be gone in a week.

  * * *

  “Howdy, Rand! Good to see ya again.” The burly blacksmith raised a red-hot iron above his head as they approached.

  “Howdy, Abe. How’s business?” Rand asked.

  “Hot.” The two men laughed.

  “That’s Abe, the blacksmith,” Rand said in Callie’s ear.

  She smiled and lifted her nose to the strange mixture of scents wafting from the smithy. Charred wood on hot embers, melting iron, clothes soaked with sweat. All honest smells, by-products of good, hard work.

  Abe nodded. “How do, ma’am.” Then he resumed his ironwork.

  “No one can shoe a horse better than Abe,” Rand boasted as he urged his horse toward the watering trough. While the horse drank, Rand explained how the blacksmith was one of the hired regulars. “Now and again, a guest will sign on to do apprentice work with him, but for the most part Abe works alone.”