Expressly Yours, Samantha (Cotillion Ball Saga Book 7)

by Becky Lower

  Then, when he did finally lose his resolve and touch her, kiss her, he hoped she’d give him the cold shoulder and they’d return to life as it had been before the big revelation. When things were simple. Just because he was all of a sudden attracted to her didn’t mean she returned his feelings. All she had told him was he’d gotten under her skin. That meant little to a man who was now entertaining thoughts of marriage, a homestead, and children. Val ran his hands through his hair as he sat beside her.

  Even as he thought about a future with Samantha, Val’s skin prickled. The skin she’d gotten under. Nothing would ever be the same again. On a gut level, he was certain she wouldn’t turn down his advances. He might not have much experience with women, but he could tell when someone was interested in him. And despite not having an official declaration of intent, he could tell they were in lockstep with each other in that regard. But they’d have to keep their mutual attraction to themselves until Samantha was safe from her uncle’s grasp. That meant business as usual. Val would continue to ride the Express route, and Samantha would be Sam, working as hard as any man Val had ever come across to keep the barn and horses clean, thereby protecting the little bit of privacy she needed to pull off her deception.

  Things would work out. They could make it work. Maybe they could sneak away together, have a few quiet afternoons away from prying eyes. Val’s mind buzzed with ways they could have some time alone. Nine months was going to be a lifetime.

  • • •

  When Samantha woke the next morning, the pain in her back had subsided to the level of a toothache, although it still hurt her to take a deep breath. She allowed herself to lie still while she took inventory of her body’s aches and glanced around her small quarters. She was alone. And she needed to relieve herself.

  As quickly as she could, Samantha dragged herself to a sitting position on the cot. Waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass, she thought about Val. He’d checked on her during the night. Even though she’d been groggy, she’d been aware of his touch each time he’d run a hand over her forehead or down her cheek. Her life, her identity, was now shared with him. And Samantha was at peace with it. It was the first calmness she’d known in over two years. Even with Uncle Jack still possibly on the lookout for her, she breathed easier this morning knowing she was not alone anymore, that someone was watching her back. Literally.

  She handled her morning’s ministrations and got dressed. Yes, she was moving more slowly than normal, but she needed to get back to work. The last thing she needed was for Gus to decide the barn was too much work for her and he needed to hire someone to help out. Then the tiny bit of privacy she had forged for herself would be lost. She couldn’t afford to let it happen. Especially not now. Not when she desperately wanted her privacy to now include getting to know Valerian better. On a more intimate level.

  She clung to the fence as she walked into the first stall. The tan horse nickered at her when she entered the space, and nudged her softly.

  “I missed you too, boy,” she whispered to the horse. She ran a hand down his neck, feeling for the main artery, and was reassured by the rhythmic pumping of blood. Her head slowly cleared, and she was able to stand upright. She fed the horse first, then picked up a brush from the side of the stall and began grooming him.

  The barn door was open, allowing the sun to penetrate the large room. May was drawing to a close, and the days were mostly sunny and becoming warm. She’d open the windows next and let in the fresh air. Clean air, hay, horses, and a friend. Life didn’t get much better. She hummed as she worked.

  Valerian returned, carrying two plates of food, which he quickly set down.

  “What are you doing, out of bed and working, for God’s sake?”

  Samantha laughed lightly before she adopted her low Sam’s voice again. “What kind of stable boy would I be if I let a simple thing like a gunshot wound lay me out for long? I’m fine, and I need to get back to work.”

  Val came closer and reached out to touch her. He placed a hand on her forehead, checking her temperature. Even though his touch was not at all sensuous, his closeness caused Samantha to hold her breath. She gazed into his deep chocolate eyes.

  “Well, at least your fever’s broken. The carbolic acid must have worked to clear up the infection. What a relief.”

  His hand was still on her face. He let it slide from her forehead down her cheek. Then he cupped her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. His touch was gentle, as if afraid she’d break. The kiss was more a caress than hot and searing. And she wanted hot and searing. This was the first time she’d ever been kissed, and she wanted to make it memorable. It no longer mattered if Gus walked in on them right now. She was a girl, and wanted to be treated as one. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, giving in to the need that had been gnawing at her for almost three months.

  “I won’t break, Val. Kiss me as if you mean it.”

  She opened her mouth to him, and his tongue galloped in, meeting hers and exploring her mouth. His arms went around her, and she moved into his embrace. Sparks shot from her body every place he touched her.

  Finally, they broke apart, both panting a bit. Val stared at her and she met his gaze.

  “What?” Her body was still releasing a charge, and she hoped his was doing the same.

  “Man, I thought it’d be hard to keep your secret when I found out you were a girl. But now that I know how you taste, it’s going to be doubly hard.”

  Samantha smiled. Yeah, he had sparks, too.

  “Well, we can’t take any chances of anyone catching us doing something stupid.”

  Val ran his hand over his mouth. “Your kisses make me stupid, Sam.”

  Her smile became a grin. Yeah, life could get a whole lot better.

  They moved from the stall to Samantha’s room, where they sat and ate the platefuls of food Val had brought in. Between bites of hot, buttered biscuits accompanied by eggs and bacon, Val filled her in on the various stages of her recovery. This was the first solid food Samantha had eaten in a while, and she enjoyed every bite of the salty bacon. She dabbed her biscuit in the creamy, yellow egg yolk. After their plates were clean, Valerian checked on her bandage over the wound.

  “You’re not bleeding anymore, or oozing, so I think you’re on the mend finally. But take it easy with the work, okay?”

  His hand stayed on her back a moment longer than it should have. Samantha closed her eyes, and her skin tingled under his touch. He pulled her shirt back into place and let her finish buttoning herself up. He turned his back to her, allowing her some privacy, and cleared his throat.

  “Perfect timing, since the rider from the west is expected in soon, and I’m up for the run into St. Joe. You’ll be on your own for a couple of days.”

  “I’ll be all right, Val.” Her voice went soft as she gazed at him.

  “I know you will, but I’d feel a whole lot better if I had a few more days here.”

  She punched him playfully, but kept her hand in place on his arm, reluctant to break their contact. “To do what? Fetch my grub from the kitchen? I’m perfectly capable.”

  Val put his hand over hers. “Yes, you are perfectly capable. I just want to make things a bit easier for you, now that I know what’s going on.”

  Samantha squeezed his arm before she let go. “This from the boy who wanted no responsibility only a few months ago.”

  “What can I say? Destiny got in the way of me being a lad with no obligations. And I’m all right with it.”

  Samantha noticed Val’s shoulders rolling as he said those words. He wasn’t yet all right with it. He was still trying it on for size. She turned from him.

  “If you’re heading out in a couple of hours, you need to get some rest. Get on with you to bed, and I’ll start cleaning up the barn.”

  “Well, all right, if you’re sure. But don’t overdo things.”

  “I can take care of myself, Val. Been doing it since long before you discovered my secret.” Sh
e bristled, even knowing he was merely expressing concern for her. Evidently, she wasn’t all right with him sharing her secret, either. Both of them had a ways to go yet.

  • • •

  Samantha worked without a break for the remainder of the day. Between feeding and tending to the horses, mucking the stalls, and generally cleaning up, the hours sped by. The blacksmith made his weekly appearance, and Sam worked alongside him to shoe some of the horses and tend to a few others who had pulled muscles or open sores.

  When the sharp blast of the horn reached her ears, she got a fresh horse ready and was standing by the corral with the reins in her hand when a yawning Val emerged from the inn with a cup of coffee. They stood side by side, but not touching, while they waited for the rider to come around the bend. Neither of them dared make a move toward the other while they were in the open. Standing beside him was contact enough. The heat from his body warmed her to the depths of her soul, and the air vibrated between them.

  Val took possession of the mochila from the tired rider, and Samantha grabbed the reins of the spent horse, leading him to the corral. She didn’t dare hang around, mooning over Val as he vaulted into the saddle and galloped off toward St. Joseph while the exhausted rider made his way into the hotel for a hot meal and a cool cot. She didn’t see Val leave. The sound of his horse’s hooves on the hard ground was her only indication he had left the area. She walked the horse for a few minutes, letting him cool down before she took him inside the barn to be fed, washed down, and inspected for any injuries. He was limping a little, which could mean a stone got caught in his hoof or a pulled muscle in his hindquarters. She’d let him rest for a while, but the only treatment for a strained muscle was alternating hot and cold treatments to the leg and hand walking. So she had several hours of work staring at her to get this horse on the road to being sound again.

  She tried not to think about Val and the many hardships he’d face on the trail. He’d made it just fine without her worrying about him for months now, so she didn’t need to expend any of her sapped energy wondering what he was running into, galloping through the darkness to reach the city in eight hours. But he stayed in the recesses of her mind until his run was finished and he was safely in St. Joe. Or at least she hoped so. Val was supposed to pass on the word to headquarters in St. Joe about the wagon train mistaking one of their riders for an Indian, so hopefully the wagons pulling out, if there were to be any more this summer, would be advised to hold their fire when a rider in a red shirt came into view.

  As dawn broke, she entered the back door of the hotel and sat in the kitchen to eat her meal. Emma hustled around in the big room, directing the kitchen staff with the finesse of an Army general.

  “Sam, I’m so glad to see you up and about again. You had us worried.” Emma sat a plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and savory gravy in front of her. Sam’s mouth began to water. Roast beef was her all-time favorite meal, regardless of the time of day. The kitchen was bustling with preparations to feed breakfast to the occupants of the stagecoach before it departed, but Sam was fine having last night’s dinner.

  “Had myself worried for a bit there, too, Emma, but I’m better now.”

  “Well, your buddy Val took right good care of you, that’s for sure.”

  Sam tried to control the flutter of her stomach as she set her fork on the table. “Yep, he’s a good friend.”

  “Well, you’d better pay attention to your plate. The stagecoach is set to depart within the hour.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Samantha smiled at the woman and grabbed a warm roll from the basket she was carrying.

  As she moved back into the barn with her belly full, she wondered what her good friend, Val, was doing right now. Had he encountered any problems along the route? She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She could not afford to be clouding up her mind with idle thoughts of Val. She needed to pay attention to the passengers on the outgoing stage, to make certain no one was coming after her. She’d still been in her sickbed when the coach had arrived the previous afternoon, so she hadn’t inspected the occupants as she normally would have. Val could take care of himself. She needed to focus on her own predicament. But since he’d saved her life, literally and figuratively, the least she could do was to keep vigilant and make sure she’d still be here, in Seneca, when he returned.

  Chapter 14

  While Valerian waited for the next pouch of government documents, personal letters, and newspapers to arrive in St. Joseph, he filled his idle time walking the streets of the town. If Samantha’s uncle was, in fact, still searching for her, he could have made up flyers and posted them. He checked out the community board in the post office and found nothing. He didn’t come across any more Pinkerton agents in town, waiting for the stagecoach headed west. Samantha had provided a sketchy description of her uncle, and Val found himself appraising each man he walked past to see if he fit the criteria of a husky man with bad hygiene and a cruel mouth. There were a few matching the description, and Val couldn’t be certain of any of them, since the west seemed to breed men with similar appearances.

  He checked on the people who were leaving town each day, and breathed his relief when the day progressed and there was no sign of anyone resembling Samantha’s uncle heading west. But it was exhausting work to be on guard all the time. This had been Samantha’s way of life for the past several months. And before, while she lived with her uncle and aunt, she had to have been constantly on edge, making sure he’d never catch her alone.

  And now it was his problem, his way of life, as well. How had it happened? Valerian shrugged his shoulders, feeling every ounce of the weight of responsibility. He did not carry the load comfortably. Not yet, anyway.

  It was trying enough to keep Samantha’s secret identity from their employer and every other person they’d come into contact with. But he had kissed her. True, it was not the first time he’d been kissed, but it was the first time it really meant something. It had been Samantha’s first time, though. Of that fact, he was certain.

  He’d tried to be gentle with her, knowing she was inexperienced, but she’d surprised him and deepened the kiss. So now he not only had to keep the secret about her identity, but also, and probably more importantly, he had to hide his growing attraction to her, in order to keep her ruse intact. He needed to keep his hands off her, to maintain his distance. Val removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. His life had changed the minute he and Samantha had met, even though he had thought he was only meeting another man. Gotten way more complicated. Joseph had recognized it right away with his inendaagozi talk. But Valerian hadn’t seen it coming until it hit him squarely between the eyes.

  Before he crawled into bed, he penned a letter to his parents. Rosemary had written to him that their mother was now bragging to anyone who would listen that her son was a rider on the Pony Express, so Valerian figured he could let his mother and father know a bit more about what was truly going on. He had to inform someone of the subterfuge he was helping Samantha pull off, or he’d burst. His parents were a good choice, since the chances of them letting the secret out to anyone who cared was nil. His mother craved secrets and suspense, so he was certain she’d side with Samantha. And Rosemary could possibly use her as the heroine in one of her potboiler dime novels. He wrote a couple of pages before he signed off with what had become his signature line: Expressly Yours, Valerian.

  He punched the pillow on the cot and laid down for some sleep before he was scheduled to head out in the morning. He’d barely turned over when a heavy set of boots clamored up the staircase, and another rider came into the attic sleeping room of the hotel where the riders all stayed when they were in town.

  “Hey, Jimmy,” Val acknowledged him and then closed his eyes.

  “Val, I’d hope to catch you before you fell asleep. I’m in the mood to play poker. You up for it?”

  Jimmy was known for his poker playing and his uncanny ability to win the pot more often than not. Everyone suspected him of
cheating, but even under close inspection, Val couldn’t spot any wrongdoing. Maybe the guy was merely damn lucky. Whatever the case, Val didn’t want to hand over any of his hard-earned money. Not now, since he had a future to consider. With Sam. Samantha.

  “Naw, thanks anyway, Jimmy. I want to catch some shuteye before heading out in the morning. You’ll have to find a sucker somewhere else.”

  “Damn. I thought I could always count on you to hand over some money.”

  “Not anymore, Jimmy.”

  Val rolled over and faced the wall. The mantle of responsibility had just gotten a bit lighter.

  • • •

  The return run back to Seneca couldn’t happen fast enough for Valerian. Samantha was all that had occupied his mind for days. He rode the horse to the Patee House, where he’d pick up the mochila. Usually, his down time between rides was filled with entertaining all the pretty girls in St. Joe with his stories about his rides or trying his luck at the active poker tables. Being known as a Pony Express rider made the ladies queue up with treats, hoping for a tip of his hat or a kiss to brag to their friends about. But this trip, all he wanted was to get back to Samantha. To run his hands down her arms again. To make certain she was safe from her uncle.

  He dropped from his saddle in front of the hotel and tied up the horse. Inside, in the offices of the Pony Express, he waited for Mr. Lewis to hand off the pouch to him. The enormous responsibility of delivering the mail at any cost registered with him for the first time. Samantha had mentioned it a bit ago, but Val had still been enthralled by being able to race from place to place on the back of a galloping horse. But now, the weight of his duties was apparent. He stood quietly, waiting for Mr. Lewis to acknowledge him.