Way Out West

by Blanche Marriott

  Becky eyed him cautiously. “Normally, I’d say no. But seeing as it’s you, Rand, all right. Just don’t keep her away too long. She’s got a lot to learn.”

  Taking Callie’s hand to help her down from her stool, he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say?”

  * * *

  Outside, the cool night air felt refreshing after the stuffy, cigar smoking, whiskey drinking, leather and saddle soap smells of the saloon. Callie appreciated the change of scenery and she tilted her head a notch higher being on the arm of a strong, handsome gentleman like Rand.

  The hollow click of their heels on the boardwalk pre-empted any conversation. She noticed how easily he synchronized his large booted steps with her small high-heeled ones. Whenever they passed another lady, he deferred to let her pass with a tip of his hat, then returned his hand to cover Callie’s fingers in the crook of his elbow.

  She was beginning to like this lady and gentleman stuff.

  “So, what do you think of our little town so far?” he finally asked.

  “I think I’ll reserve my judgment for now. I haven’t seen enough of it yet.”

  For a moment, she thought about what she actually had seen today and it amounted to very little. She’d gone from the bus station in Barstow to some God-forsaken, no name, speck-on-the-map town in southern California. From there everyone had been transported to the way station in cute little Conestoga buses.

  So what she’d seen was desert, mountains, plains, and a long bumpy road on the back of a horse.

  “Why all the secrecy getting here?” she asked. “Why can’t people just drive up, park their car and change their wardrobe?”

  “It’s not secrecy so much as capturing the essence of the winning of the West. The travel, leaving possessions behind, assuming new identities. I find it to be a cleansing process.”

  They reached the end of a boardwalk. Rand stepped down and held up his hand to assist her down the three steps. She eyed him curiously as they walked across the dirt alleyway and up the steps of the next boardwalk.

  “You really do love this, don’t you?”

  Rand tilted his head. “Do you mean walking with you, or coming to this town?”

  Callie tipped her head to hide a smile. “The town.”

  “Yes, I do. Here I can be me, at least the me that’s inside struggling to get out.”

  “It sounds like the you that’s on the outside isn’t very happy with his life.”

  He stopped and turned to her. “Let’s just say, some things can’t be changed.” Then, in a lighter tone, he nodded toward the building behind her. “Care to visit the general store?”

  She peered in the window. “Wow, they’re open late.”

  “Everything stays open late to accommodate all the guests so they can make the most of their stay.” With a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her inside. “Come on. I want you to see what they have.”

  “Howdy, Rand, ma’am.” The small, thin man behind the counter looked right out of the Old West. His oiled-down hair, parted in the middle, was slicked behind protruding ears that barely held a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a white shirt with armbands and a soiled apron tied around his middle. “Anything I can git fer you folks this evenin’?”

  Amazed at the assortment of goods, Callie shrugged at Rand.

  “I think we’d just like to look around a bit, Lloyd. We’re just out for a little stroll,” Rand explained.

  “Take yer time and give a holler if you need anything.”

  Callie smiled and began a closer inspection of the goods displayed here, there and everywhere. She ogled the licorice and peppermint candy, the leather strips and bolts of fabric. There were all the usual staples—beans, flour, sugar, coffee, tea, salt—in old tins and sacks. One table held simple children’s toys like slingshots, and tops, and kites. A counter on the far wall had personals like ladies’ combs, men’s razors, shaving creams and such.

  “This is wild!” She giggled, looking back at Rand.

  He smiled a pleased smile. “I thought you’d like it.”

  “But how do you buy anything? We couldn’t bring money in.” Just then it occurred to her that Rand had used some strange sort of currency to purchase his poker chips.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Still haven’t finished the manual, huh?” When she sheepishly shook her head, he explained. “What was the one modern item you brought in with you?”

  She thought for a moment. “Oh! The ID card.”

  “Right. It’s the only concession to the modern world, for reasons of necessity and security. At the bank, there’s a closed-off room which houses a sort of teller machine. By using your ID card, you can transfer funds into an account at the bank and withdraw our WOW currency for spending money. When you leave, those transfers will be tacked on to your final bill, to be paid in real money.”

  Callie frowned as she digested the well-thought-out scheme. “So there’s electricity at the bank?”

  “Just in that one room. The lines run underground to the main office at the way station where all the records and transactions are kept. It’s also where all the profiles of the guests are. The ID cards hold the key if we need to know something in case of emergency.”

  She moved to the display in front of the window and ran her fingers over the delicate patterns of a kite. The paper made a rustling sound beneath her touch.

  She turned back to Rand. “You keep saying ‘we’ and ‘our’.”

  “Do I? Slip of the tongue. I come here so often I think of it as my home.” He gestured toward the counter. “So, see anything you’d like?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. At least not tonight. I need to get a feel for the place first.”

  The bell above the door jingled as they left the store and went back out into the night. Callie hugged her bare arms against the cooling night air.

  Ever alert, Rand hastened to take off his jacket and place it over her shoulders. When he did, he didn’t bother to remove his arm. Instead, he pulled her to his side and walked with a possessive arm around her shoulders.

  The warmth from his body heat permeated the jacket and settled on her arms and shoulders. She found it so easy to snuggle in to him as they walked hip to hip. With each inhale, she caught his scent from inside his jacket and smiled knowing it would stay with her throughout the night.

  Once again they reached the end of a boardwalk, but this time there was no other walk ahead. They’d reached the end of the street. Rand stopped and looked toward the sky.

  “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful, Callie? Stars like diamonds, a sky that goes on forever until it dips to the horizon, air as fresh as the day the earth was born.”

  Before she could answer, the lone cry of a coyote sounded in the distance. “And wild animals looking for a meal,” she said, shuddering.

  He turned to face her. In the darkness, she could only see the white of his shirt beneath the black vest and the sparkle in his eyes as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “That’s the call of the wild, Callie. Animals looking for their mates. The lonesome cry lets the others know he’s staked out his territory.”

  She peered through the darkness, trying to read his features. “Why is he so lonesome?”

  His hand came up to cradle her face. “Because he hasn’t found the right one to share his life with yet. He’s searched hard all day and perfected his hunting skills, but when the night rolls in, so does the loneliness.”

  She felt his breath close to her. Her lips quivered, anticipating his touch. “So, he howls at the moon to vent his frustration?” she murmured.

  His lips brushed across hers like the flicker of a feather. “His frustrations, his desires, his needs. He vents them all.” He rubbed the tip of her nose with his.

  “And how will he know when the right one comes along?”

  “When the restlessness ends.”

  Rand slanted his mouth over hers. His mustache tickled her nose as he explored the sensation of rough lips
on smooth. Like a bee drawn to honey, Callie reached up to circle his neck. The jacket slipped from her shoulders, but the heat of his hands on her skin more than made up for the chill.

  The coyote’s cry suddenly stilled. Rand slowly pulled his mouth from Callie’s and rubbed his hands across her back.

  She licked her lips, tasting the heat still on them, his heat, and whispered, “Did the restlessness end?”

  He leaned his forehead against hers and shook his head. “It’s only just begun.”

  Chapter Four

  Rand replaced his jacket on Callie’s beautifully smooth shoulders and offered her his arm. He dared not draw her in to his body again or he might not let go.

  “We’d better get back,” was all he could manage to say.

  He’d only known this slip of a woman one day, yet he could envision a lifetime of shared secrets and loving moments. Ha! Benton Randall, Jr., the Fortune 500 phenomenon, dreaming of sweeping a woman he didn’t even know off her dainty little feet and carrying her off into the sunset. He must be loco. That would certainly explain his strange urge to howl at the moon.

  They walked slowly, silently, as though afraid to break the spell of the magical moment they’d shared. At least it’d been magical for him. What if it had been just another kiss for her? What if this were all a part of her Wild West adventure?

  No. He couldn’t believe that. He’d read the signals.

  On the ride in this afternoon, she’d been cautious, reluctant. And why wouldn’t she? Hiding from some burly creature on a motorcycle, relying on a perfect stranger for help, then thrown into this time warp. Who wouldn’t be leery?

  But tonight, in that dress, with that hairdo, she’d somehow been transformed. The city girl attitude had faded with the sunlight and he thought she might actually be enjoying herself. She trusted him, looked to him for answers, and most of all, she glowed when he treated her kindly.

  But at the risk of her losing how she felt toward him, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her who he really was. Too many hard years had taught him to be wary of new relationships. Too many women wanted him for his money, power, status. He couldn’t bear the thought of Callie being one of them, or worse, rejecting him because of who he was.

  And here, in Way Out West, his dream come true, Rand had to be just as wary. Only Becky, Abe and the Sheriff knew his connection to the town, for his own good as well as the town’s. He had to maintain that delicate balance of fantasy and reality.

  But when it came to tutoring Callie in the ways of the West, he was having a heap of trouble figuring out just where fantasy ended and reality began.

  * * *

  Callie didn’t need a Ouija board or crystal ball to see what was happening between her and Rand.

  Answering the Way Out West ad had gone against everything she thought she knew about herself. Despite her distaste for the whole cowboy thing, she’d been drawn to the ad as her salvation, an escape from Spider and a chance at a new start. She’d stay a month, make enough money to get back home, and start fresh without some man molding her to his lifestyle.

  Looking up at Rand, holding his arm as they walked in silence, she mused, But this man was a welcome change.

  Suddenly, as they reached the boardwalk that led to the saloon, the swinging doors flew open followed by two bodies and a trail of curious, yelling onlookers.

  Callie gasped as the men tumbled down the steps and rolled in the dirt street throwing punches and kicks. She clung tighter to Rand’s arm, afraid that all mayhem would break out as the onlookers began egging the men on.

  “Oh, Rand, let’s get out of here before it gets ugly.”

  Rand just smiled down at her, calmly patting her hand. “It’s okay. It’s just an act.”

  “An act?” she asked disbelievingly.

  “Yes, they’re actors. They’re here to put on a show for the guests, give them a real flavor of the Wild West. Look closely. Do you see any real punches connecting?”

  She had to admit she didn’t, although in the dim light of the street, it was hard to tell. “Well, I still don’t like it.” She gripped his arm tightly.

  Rand held her in the shadow of the building, away from the spectators. He tugged her up close to his chest. His hot breath furled its way to her face.

  “Nothing more exciting than a lady who needs protecting.”

  His face was just inches from hers. She could barely see his dark eyes in the shadows, yet she felt their heat penetrating her own. The yelling, jeering crowd in the street no longer mattered. All she heard was her own heartbeat keeping time with Rand’s breathing.

  Slowly, his grip eased. He brought a tentative hand up and gently fingered a curl at her temple. In a husky whisper, he said, “We’d better not keep Miss Becky waiting any longer.”

  * * *

  As soon as they entered the saloon, Becky was on them like a mother hen. “I was about to round up a posse.” The wagon wheel of oil lamps above her head cast her in an angry red glow, but Callie knew the scowl was for effect more than actual anger.

  Rand casually removed his jacket from Callie’s shoulders and slung it over his arm. “Now, Becky, don’t be getting yourself in a tizzy. We just had a nice stroll, enjoying the delights of nature at its best.”

  She scrutinized his face, then Callie’s. “Hmm.” Returning her gaze to Rand, she said, “I checked with Smitty. He knows nothing about the stranger. He’s been winning all night and has already taken out three players. We found out his name is Tyler, or at least that’s the name he’s going by.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go buy more chips and see if I can get back in the game. This time I’ll concentrate more on the cards and less on distractions.” His mustache turned up slightly as he gave Callie a sidelong glance. She feigned innocence.

  “Don’t worry,” Becky spoke up, “she’s coming with me.” She crooked her finger at Callie. “Oh, and Rand? You better wipe the smudges off your lips before you get back to the tables. Red lipstick isn’t very becoming on a serious gambler.” Callie tittered under her breath. “Now you, young lady, come with me.”

  Uh-oh. Callie reluctantly followed Becky’s swishing satin to a small storeroom behind the bar and tensed when the dark paneled door closed smartly.

  “I want you to go upstairs and freshen up that face. When you come down, get behind the bar and clean some glasses for Smitty. He’s real busy serving right now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Callie wasn’t about to ruffle Becky’s feathers any more than they already were.

  “And no more sneaking off with Rand. He’s got a serious card game on his mind now.”

  “But we didn’t sneak off, we—”

  “Never mind. It doesn’t look good to have one of my girls going off with a customer. If you two are going to get serious, you’re not doing it on my time.”

  Callie’s mouth must have dropped down to her navel during Becky’s lecture because closing it took a tremendous amount of effort. Feeling warmth flood her face, Callie dropped her gaze from Becky’s. “It’s nothing. He’s just being nice to me.”

  “Oh, come on, girl. I saw that look in his eye and I know enough about men to know what it means. Rand never gets involved with women while he’s here. This is a first.” Becky prodded a finger under Callie’s chin and stared hard. “Maybe there is a bit of naiveté in you, but there’s none in me. I’ve never seen Rand act this way with anyone, and judging from what I saw after your walk, he’s got more than card playing on his mind. So if you still think it’s nothing, you’d better make that perfectly clear to him before someone gets hurt.”

  * * *

  After an hour of washing and drying glasses and pouring an occasional whiskey, Callie ached to kick off her high heels and set her feet free. Bad enough she’d spent the earlier part of the day in those uncomfortable high-ankle boots, now she’d been on her feet all night in these flimsy, three-inch torture heels.

  But when she looked down, she realized she couldn’t very well go barefoot on this
rough hardwood floor. Her stockings would be full of runs in no time.

  As the hour grew late, and the activity in the saloon quieted down, she turned to Smitty. “Mind if I step out for a minute? I need to take care of something.”

  Nodding an understanding yes, he waved her away. Callie scooted around the bar and up the stairs. If she was quick enough, Becky wouldn’t even miss her. Two minutes later she bounded back down the stairs and returned to her post behind the bar. Smitty stopped a moment, looked down at her sneakers, then resumed his drink orders wearing an amused smile.

  Shortly after, with plenty of clean glasses lined up, Callie permitted herself to relax. Leaning her elbows on the bar, she gazed at the card table directly in her line of vision, the table where her eyes were automatically drawn.

  Rand’s handsome profile gave her pause for reflection. His expressive forehead was smooth beneath the brim of his hat, never wrinkling from the concentration of the game. Bold eyebrows met in the center over a small indentation. His nose sloped straight toward the sensuous lips she could still taste on her own. His mustache had tickled her nose, but its soft, neatly trimmed bristles had excited her. And finally, the dimple. She studied the adorable little dent on his chin, admiring the way it softened his face, made him look as though he were ready to break out into a smile at any moment.

  “Have you known Rand long?”

  Shaking herself, Callie looked at Smitty. “Me? No. We just met today.”

  Smitty raised his eyebrows. “Really? Hmm. Seeing as how the two of you rode in together, I thought you were old friends. He’s certainly very attentive to you.”

  This was getting embarrassing. Everyone seemed cognizant of the sparks flying between them. “Oh, he’s just being kind. You know, new kid on the block and all.”

  “Maybe so, but I think I know Rand better than that. Is there a chance he might regret it when all is said and done? I mean, is there a Mr. Callie waiting for you on the outside?”

  Callie laughed. Rand’s long line of protective fans seemed endless. “No. I’m about as far away from a Mr. Callie as I can get. In fact I ran away.” She always did.