Way Out West

by Blanche Marriott

  * * *

  Callie took a taxi back to the way station. She headed for the locker where she’d stored her clothes but a security guard stopped her.

  “Miss, you can’t go in there right now. It’s after hours.”

  “But, I need to get my clothes and money to pay for the taxi. I have to get back to the hospital.”

  “Hospital?”

  “Yes, my friend is in recovery there. He was the one taken away in the ambulance earlier.”

  “Oh, Mr. Randall? Of course. You must be Miss Sumner. Come with me.” The man led the way down a corridor.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Tom Lawrence, Mr. Randall’s right-hand man, says you have carte blanche. We’ll take care of the taxi.”

  He ushered her into Rand’s plush office furnished with everything she needed to clean up. Left alone, Callie admired her surroundings. So this was her Rand. This was all his.

  Everything looked neat, tidy, perfect, even a huge computer printout pile on his desk was stacked to perfection. Beside that was a file folder with “Tyler Thornton” printed in bold letters across the front.

  Rand had come here when he left this morning. She knew. His scent was everywhere and it filled her with longing. She ran her finger over the file, the file he’d held in his big strong hands only hours before. Somehow, it gave her strength.

  She flipped open the cover and scanned the dirty deeds this criminal had been involved in. A shiver went all the way down her spine as she thought about how close she’d come to becoming another entry on Tyler’s rap sheet.

  She closed the folder as a woman knocked and came in with some fresh outfits from the wardrobe room. “If none of these are suitable, I’ll get more.”

  Rand had people who did whatever he said, even in his absence. He had money, power, and more brains than she’d know what to do with. How could she even think of a life with him? She had nothing to offer him. Nothing at all. She didn’t fit into this world any more than she fit into Way Out West.

  After blinking away tears over her regrettably impossible situation, Callie went to the bathroom to clean up. A razor sat on the edge of the sink and residual globs of shaving cream mixed with black hair clung to the porcelain. A sad smile turned her lips. It had been a beautiful mustache.

  Hurriedly, Callie showered then padded on the thick pile carpet to Rand’s dressing room. There, behind the door, hung his black gambler outfit. He’d cut such an imposing figure in that suit, no wonder Tyler had backed down from the showdown in the saloon. No wonder she’d fallen in love with him.

  Tears misting her eyes again, she quickly changed into a long white cotton dress with a scooped neckline and short puffy sleeves. She chose a pair of comfortable moccasins, pushing aside all the boots the woman had brought.

  Tom Lawrence met her in the hallway when she left the office. “May I drive you back to the hospital?”

  She accepted his offer and learned more about her mystery man as they rode in the darkness. He’d left his electronics firm in the hands of his executive staff after the legal battle caused by Kyle Thornton’s antics, but he was still the CEO and he occasionally got involved with new projects. Lately, he made more and more frequent visits to Way Out West, the refuge he’d built five years ago out of his frustration with modern living.

  “He’s seen a lot of unhappiness in his thirty-five years. Way Out West is the only thing that makes him happy.” He turned to look at her. “Until now.”

  She lowered her head. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think I fit in his world.”

  “Forgive me for being blunt, Miss Sumner, but that’s hogwash. I’ve never seen Mr. Randall look so alive as he did when he sat across from me this morning and said he finally knew what he wanted in life. I learned more about you in five minutes than if I’d spent a month with you.”

  “But we’re so completely opposite, from two different worlds. I don’t know if I could change enough to please him, and I could never ask him to change for me.”

  Tom Lawrence kept his eyes on the road but his words came straight from his heart. “I think you’d be surprised what he’d give up for you. As for you, I’d venture to say you already know you were meant to be together.”

  Callie sympathized with Tom Lawrence. He wanted to see his employer happy. He didn’t want anyone to mess up the delicate balance of the present and the past in Rand’s life.

  He dropped her off in front of the hospital, saying, “Now go make him happy.”

  She thanked him for the ride and went to the nurses’ station. They said he’d been awake for about an hour. She quietly stepped into the private room he’d been moved to. He looked so big and dark propped up in the small bed surrounded by white sheets and pillows.

  “Hi,” she murmured, closing the door behind her.

  A smile brightened his pale face and his hand reached out. She quickly took hold of it, surprised at how cool it felt, and eased herself into his embrace. When they kissed, there was nothing cool about his lips. The fire still burned within.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Me? How are you? You’re the one who just came out of surgery.”

  “The doctor says I’m fine. In a few weeks I’ll be good as new, with a very attractive limp.” He brushed his hand through her long hair. “You were pretty tough out there today. A regular Annie Oakley.”

  She smiled, feeling a blush color her cheeks. “I was, wasn’t I? Tyler just got me so mad. He’d been bossing me around all day and—“

  “Hey,” Rand interrupted with a finger to her lips. “Let’s not talk about Tyler. Let’s talk about us.”

  “What about us?” she asked, her voice suddenly timid.

  “Callie, after today, I know if there’s one thing I want in this life, it’s you. I realize it’s unfair of me to ask you to share my life when you know nothing about it, but I’ll tell you anything you want to know and give you all the time you need to get to know me. Hopefully, you’ll like what you learn.”

  She raised her hand to his head and ran gentle fingers through his thick dark waves. “Rand, I’ve already learned all I need to about you. You’re a good man. You work hard for what you want and you have very high standards. I just don’t know if I can meet those standards.”

  He grabbed her hand. “What are you saying? I just told you, you are everything I could ever want. How could you think any less of yourself?”

  “Because I have nothing to give you.”

  “You’re wrong. You can give me one thing no one else can.”

  She tilted her head. “What?”

  “Happiness.”

  Her heart jumped, but she cautioned herself. He’d just suffered a near death experience and his perception of life was a little biased right now.

  “Rand, I’ve drifted most of my life. I’ve gone from one bad relationship to another. I have no job, no education.”

  “You do have a job. You’re a saloon girl at Way Out West. And a darn good one.”

  “Oh, put that on a resume.”

  “Callie, I employ a lot of people there. They’re well paid and very happy with what they do. You should be proud of your job, too. You’re good at it.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I know. It’s just—I don’t know if I’ll ever fit in. I’m uncomfortable with the western life.”

  “Then we’ll build a life together outside of it. As long as I have you, I can be happy anywhere.”

  Her heart jumped again and she wanted to believe this time. “Rand, do you mean that?”

  He pulled her down for a fierce kiss. She tasted his sincerity, his promises, everything that said he would dedicate his life to her. In her head, she heard the triumphant howl of a coyote.

  His hands were no longer cool as they held her face to gaze into her eyes. “Does that answer your question?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now answer mine. Will you marry me?”

  Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision.
He knew all her imperfections and failures, and still he wanted her.

  “First I’d like to finish my stint at the saloon with Miss Becky. I don’t want to be a quitter again.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “And you never finished courting me properly.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “And we have to wait until you’ve recuperated—“

  “Callie! I call your bluff. Answer me.”

  She laughed at the gambler’s tactic. He knew how to charm a lady. “Under one condition,” she countered.

  “Name it.”

  “You grow back your mustache.”

  They both laughed and kissed until the nurse came in to see why the buzzer kept ringing.

  Epilogue

  Guests filed out of the little white church at the edge of town. Everyone in Way Out West had turned out for the wedding of the year, even Abe the blacksmith. After all, he was best man.

  Reverend Simms stepped forth from the church announcing, “Friends, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Benton Randall, Jr.”

  Callie and Rand walked out into the bright sunlight and were greeted by cheers and whistles. Handfuls of rice pelted them as they descended the steps. Rand leaned heavily on his cane, but his eyes were on his beautiful bride on his arm.

  Her gown was low-cut with high Victorian sleeves. The fitted bodice and waist accented her delicate figure. The train reached far behind where Becky, the maid of honor, meticulously tended to its folds.

  Rand looked handsome in his white suit with long tails and matching top hat, a startling contrast to his dark coloring. Together, they looked like they belonged on the top of a wedding cake instead of in the middle of the Old West.

  As the couple approached the waiting black stallion, Becky caught up. “So where are you going?” she whispered to Callie.

  Smiling conspiratorially, Callie blushed before answering. “To his ranch.”

  “His ranch? Just outside of town? Oh, Rand. Couldn’t you think of something more romantic than that?”

  Rand sent Becky a chastising frown while Callie laughed. “It was my idea. I couldn’t wait for the honeymoon to begin.” She turned an adoring face to her husband. “Besides, we have the rest of our lives to travel. Right now all we want is to be together.”

  Rand smiled warmly on the face that lit up his life. He then turned a gloating look to Becky. “See, I can get away from Way Out West. Are you satisfied now?”

  “Yes, but you’ll always be just down the road.”

  “True. But Callie will have all the modern conveniences at her fingertips. We’ll have the best of both worlds.”

  Callie squeezed his arm. “It’ll be a perfect life, darling.” They kissed to the loud cheers of the crowd.

  “Besides, Becky, this place kind of grows on you. I promise to stay on as one of your saloon girls until motherhood gets in the way of those revealing dresses.”

  “And,” Rand interjected, “she’s agreed to revise the manual to make it more user friendly.”

  “That’s right. At least this way I’ll have no excuse for not reading it.”

  Becky shook her head. “I never thought I’d see the day...”

  As Becky’s sentence trailed off, Callie turned to hug her teary-eyed parents. “Mom, Dad, I’m so glad you came. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  Mr. Sumner held her tightly. “You don’t know how much it means to us. All we ever wanted was to see you happy.”

  Callie moved back to take her husband’s hand. “I am. I’m happier than I ever thought possible.”

  The smiling couple moved to the horse where Rand easily lifted Callie and delicately placed her on the saddle. With a slight hesitation as he got his footing, he mounted the stallion behind his bride. They waved to the crowd and set off on the open road.

  A hand painted sign hung from the horse’s rump: Just Hitched.

  Becky smiled through teary eyes. “To think I saw this coming a mile away.”

  # # #

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Blanche Marriott began writing romance novels in 1991 while balancing her career as a wood products manufacturing manager. She’s since completed fourteen contemporary novels and now works for a CPA firm as a payroll/bookkeeping specialist. Over the years, Blanche has been active in two writing groups, serving on the Boards of Directors several times, and working on the New England Chapter’s conference committee for seven years.

  Her first published novel, KALEIDOSCOPE, won 2nd place in the 2003 WisRWA Write Touch Readers’ Award for published authors. Her second book, WAY OUT WEST, won the prestigious New Jersey Romance Writers’ 2003 Golden Leaf Award for Short Contemporary. WAY OUT WEST was also a finalist in the 2004 Virginia Romance Writers’ HOLT Medallion Awards.

  You can visit her website, www.blanchemarriott.com, or email her at blanchemarriott@cox.net, or follow her on Facebook (Blanche.Marriott)

  If you enjoy sweet romances, following is an excerpt of KALEIDOSCOPE.

  BOOKS BY BLANCHE MARRIOTT

  HIS BROTHER’S BABY

  Twin Brothers. One woman.

  Is she in love with the right one?

  Contemporary Romance

  KALEIDOSCOPE (read an excerpt below)

  Money can't buy everything, least of all affections.

  Sweet Contemporary Romance

  WAY OUT WEST

  A fantasy town where city girl

  meets gambler with a big secret.

  Sweet Contemporary Romance

  APRIL’S FOOL

  How can a wedding album start a tug-of-war between the bride and groom?

  When they aren’t really married and an April Fools’ joke goes awry.

  Sweet Contemporary Romance

  BORN TO BITCH

  Confessions of a bitchaholic.

  Non-fiction, humor

  (return to Table of Contents)

  KALEIDOSCOPE

  Chapter One

  “Yes, my father's name is on the lease, but I make the payments. This is my business.”

  Frustration pulsing at her temples, Janeen Warner gripped the phone tighter. Her business, hmph. For how long? All work and no play had left her with an empty purse and a pocket full of principles. The last thing she wanted was for her father to bail another one of his children out of a sticky situation.

  While the unwavering trained voice at the other end of the phone droned on about strict policies and limited extensions, Janeen noticed movement on the stairs outside her little sublevel gift shop. Through the glass door, she saw a long pair of legs clad in black, perfectly pressed trousers making their way down the stairs.

  Not the usual browser for an ordinary day on the Market, she mused, returning her concentration to the problem at hand.

  “Miss Warner?” the nasal voice on the phone called.

  “Yes. Look, I understand your position, and I hope you can understand mine. I'm a little late with the payment, but I will get it to you very soon. I'm sure I'm not the first tenant in Quincy Market to be late with their rent.”

  Outside, the man in the black trousers talked to a second man in sunglasses. Although she couldn't see their faces, she noted that both seemed upset. Hands waved, fingers pointed. Strange behavior for people about to enter a gift shop. Finally, the man in sunglasses acquiesced and the first man stepped toward her door.

  “All right, Miss Warner, but this extension is only for one week. I have certain procedures I must follow.”

  Janeen sighed with relief. She'd gained some time, enough hopefully not to drag her father into this. Before she could answer the caller, the door signal buzzed and the tall man entered her shop, tipping his dark head slightly so as not to bump the header.

  She lowered her voice and spoke closely into the receiver, away from the newcomer. “I promise you. You'll get your money. Just leave my father out of it.”

  She hung up the phone with more force than she normally would have displayed in front of a customer, but frustration had gotte
n the best of her. At the sound, the man turned his head slightly, cocking a thick, dark eyebrow in her direction.

  Janeen forced a weary smile. She had to make the most of her business while she still had it. The thought of ending up like her brothers, ever dependent on their father, was never far from her mind, and her best reason for pushing just that little bit harder.

  “Good afternoon,” she said, hoping she sounded more pleasant than she felt. The phone call combined with the long, slow day in the store left her wanting nothing more than to get home to a nice hot bath.

  The impeccably dressed man, scanning a rack of postcards, nodded with a hint of a smile. Her gaze slid down to his white shirt collar, red tie, and long, dark gray overcoat. Very traditional, very proper. Black leather gloves completed the ensemble, which Janeen thought a bit flamboyant for such a beautiful April day, even in Boston.

  Gloves. How odd. Suddenly a chill ran down her spine. Remembering the other man, she looked to the door. Dressed in a dark suit, which barely disguised his herculean build, he waited outside. His Secret Service-like sunglasses hid the direction of his gaze.

  The chill returned. Shopkeepers in Quincy Market had been warned of increasing thefts with the slow economy. Although these men didn't exactly look like petty thieves, their strange behavior put her on guard, her fatigue forgotten for the moment.

  Keeping the man outside within her peripheral range, she returned her attention to the man inside. He'd begun to walk slowly along the opposite counter, looking at the displays. From the side, she studied the strong bone structure of his face and his perfectly trimmed hair with its neat, short sideburns.

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, a slight crack in her voice.

  Again he turned his head in her direction, then back to his browsing. “Umm, I'm looking for a gift for my...fiancée.” He had a deep melodious voice that soothed her nerves.