by Sandy James
He eased out of her body and rolled to his side. Propping himself on his elbow, he shot her a frown. “Are you laughin’ at me?”
Still feeling a bit awkward at being naked in front of a man, she pulled the covers over them. “Rest assured, my laughter was at myself, not you.”
With his fingertip, he traced his way down her neck to her shoulder. “What’s funny?”
“Me,” she replied.
“Explain.”
She glanced over at Drake, a bit astonished at how utterly handsome he was with his ruffled hair and a few days’ growth of whiskers on his face. Her fingertips rubbed against the stubbly beard. “It would seem that in the throes of passion, I have very little modesty.”
“That’s funny?”
“To me, it is exceedingly humorous. I have always been such a…a…lady. Yet here I am, practically begging you to…you know.”
He looked inordinately pleased with what she’d said. “You did beg, didn’t ya?”
“My, you are a smug fellow.”
“Smug?” He kissed her cheek. “A beautiful woman like you begs me to make love to her? Damn right, I’m gonna be smug.”
* * *
It only took her a few minutes to realize that she hadn’t needed to bundle up as usual. The bright sunshine was doing a wonderful job in making the winter less foreboding. After her afternoon chores were complete, she stayed in the barn to keep Drake company while he finished his work.
The pile of cut boards was slowly dwindling, but leaning against the far wall were more and more assembled structures. She couldn’t figure out exactly what he was doing with the wood that was meant for her home.
She stepped up to one of the sets of nailed boards and asked, “What have you made here?”
He glanced up from the bucket he was scrubbing, gave what she was pointing to a quick look, and went right back to work. “Walls.”
“Walls? These are walls? Where do you plan to use them?”
He nodded. “In your house, darlin’.”
Since she knew absolutely nothing about building a home, she looked the structures over well. “I had no idea one could build a home inside another structure.”
Drake set the bucket aside and grabbed the next one. “Yes, ma’am. This barn has plenty of space. With the kind of weather we’ve got out here, you can’t count on doing everything outside. I know how much you want it done, and I don’t plan to waste a day working on things. So I’m buildin’ your walls.”
His comments gave her pause. Now that they were lovers, would any of her plans for a future here with Drew and Gideon change?
No. She would ask for no commitment from Drake. Even though she could admit her own growing affection for the man, she doubted someone like him could nurture softer emotions such as love. Once he was done with his task, he would be gone. She refused to set herself up for heartache by nurturing any daydreams that he would decide to stay.
Besides, she was approaching this love affair as a modern, sophisticated woman. She wouldn’t act like a simpering girl, trying to hold on to some man with physical intimacy. Drake wasn’t the marrying type. He wasn’t going to stay.
Why did that thought hurt so awfully much?
“How’d you like to go to town tomorrow?” he asked as he put another clean bucket aside.
“Do you think we could? I have so many things I would like to buy. I was hoping to make you a nice Christmas meal, and—” How foolish to almost let it slip that she wanted to purchase a gift for him.
“And…what?”
She dismissed the thought with a wave of her gloved hand. “How can we take a wagon in the snow?”
“Not a wagon, Kayla. A sleigh.”
“A sleigh?”
With a nod, he pointed to the carriage house. “Gideon’s got a nice sleigh. We can hook it up to Rusty and be on our way as soon as chores are done tomorrow.”
“Papa and I used to take sleigh rides,” Kayla said, a bit wistful at the memories. “On Christmas Day we would always share such a feast! If we can get some supplies, I shall cook you a wonderful dinner so we can celebrate the same way.”
“I could do a spot of huntin’,” Drake offered as he came to stand beside her. He took her hands in his, an action that made her heart skip a quick beat. “Been quite a few geese movin’ through lately. Might be able to have roast goose for our Christmas dinner.”
She rose on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Oh, Drake. That would be heavenly.”
Chapter Nineteen
Kayla let Drake lift her from the sleigh, grateful to be in town and to finally have a chance to get warm again. The ride in to town had been brisk, but the sun had been high in the sky. The freedom of being away from the farm was most welcome.
“Go on inside,” he said. “I’ll tend to Rusty and meet you in the store.”
She nodded as he took the horse’s bridle and led him toward the livery. After the cold trip, the poor animal had earned some rest, water, and hay.
She walked into the general store, quickly shutting the door behind her to keep the wind from whipping inside. As she unwrapped the scarf that covered her face, she smiled at the quaint scene. The marshal was playing chess with Adam Morgan. They sat on opposite sides of a large cracker barrel, so absorbed in their game that neither looked up when she went to the stove to warm her hands.
“Good day, gentlemen.” She removed her gloves and shoved them in her pockets. Then she rubbed her hands together, grateful for the heat radiating from the fire inside the stove.
The marshal moved one of his black pawns before he finally glanced up and smiled at her. “Good morning, Miss Kayla. From the way you’re huggin’ that stove, I’d guess you’re feelin’ a bit chilly.”
She let out a chuckle. “The ride in was rather frosty. But the sun was warm, and in winter, I shall enjoy any sunshine I can get.” Her gaze shifted to Adam. “Where is your lovely wife this morning, Mr. Morgan?”
Adam rubbed his chin as he considered the chessboard, but he did smile. “Grace is with Victoria, helping with the new baby.”
Kayla clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, Marshal. How wonderful! Did you and Victoria have a boy or a girl?”
“A girl,” Matthew replied. “Fat and pink and healthy. Named her Clara after Victoria’s mama.”
“Clara is a beautiful name. Is Victoria well?” A silly question, she realized. Victoria had always made it quite clear that she and her husband were deeply in love. If Victoria was having any problems after giving birth, he would no doubt be at her side.
“Quite well, thank you. So what brings you to town?”
“Since it was warm, I wished to get out of the house. Those four walls were beginning to be a bit stifling.”
Both men laughed in response, most likely because they understood the problem well.
“It might also be prudent to restock our supplies,” she added, “and I seek a Christmas gift for Drake…er Mr. Myers.” She doubted either Matthew or Adam would let her slip go by without at least taking mental note of the familiar use of his name.
But did they hear the affection behind that name?
Hang it, anyway. No doubt the gossips in the town were having quite a bit of fun in speculating the connection between her and Drake. They could all call her “harlot” for all she cared. Matthew, Adam, and their wives were friends, and Kayla would never be able to hide everything from them. She wouldn’t waste concern over what they did and did not know.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said. “I need to complete my errands. You gentlemen enjoy your game.”
Matthew stood and moved close to her side. “Before you go, I wanted you to know…there have been more telegraph messages that might be for you.”
Ice ran through her veins, banishing any warmth the fire had provided. She swallowed hard and fought the strong urge to bolt. “From Reverend Hayes again?” Not that she’d believed that charade for one moment.
“Not this time. Comin’ from a man claimin’ to be
a Pinkerton detective. Says he’s in St. Louis, looking for Carolyn Burton. He seemed convinced that she’d come here, to White Pines. Are you sure there’s no chance someone you know is searching for you? Family? Friends?”
She shook her head, hoping her fear didn’t show.
“Carolyn Burton and Kayla Backer.” He shrugged. “Figured it might just be a mistake in the name.”
“I am not Carolyn Burton,” she insisted, her tone angry. Lying was so against her nature, but she had come so far and risked so much to escape. Now that she felt at home here, she was terrified of Chantal Carrington taking everything away. Again. Kayla didn’t want Gregory in her life any longer, and she wouldn’t ever return to New York City. The only reason for Chantal to pursue her was for vengeance—a Carrington trademark.
The marshal didn’t seem to take offense to her snapping at him. “Figured as much, judging from how adamant you were last time we talked. I went right head and told them they were barkin’ up the wrong tree. If they try again, I’ll give ’em the same message. They’ll eventually get the hint.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Matthew gave her a concerned frown as he put a gentle hand on her arm. “Miss Kayla, if there’s something wrong, if that detective means you harm…. Well, I wanna help you.”
On those words, Adam rose to come to her other side. “We protect our own,” he said in a firm, strong voice. “You’re among family here.” His hand settled on her other arm.
“Drew asked us to keep an eye out for you while he and Gideon were away,” the marshal added. “But we’d do the same even if they were here.”
Humbled at their support, something she had no idea she’d earned, she nodded.
“My Gracie had a bit of trouble following her here,” Adam said rather matter-of-factly. “Matthew and I can help you—if you trust us.”
“Can you maybe guess what this detective might want?” Matthew coaxed.
The bell above the door rang, and Kayla glanced up, grateful for the interruption. While the marshal might’ve said he would support her, he also clearly believed that she knew something about all the messages he’d received. He was too much of a gentleman to come right out and call her a liar right to her face, but the implication was there. Evidently Adam was of similar mind.
When she saw Drake, she couldn’t help but smile. While knowing that Matthew and Adam were on her side was comforting, she wanted—needed—Drake. It took all her self-control not to run to him and demand he hold her until her fear disappeared.
Wouldn’t the town gossips love that little scene?
One look at Kayla’s face, and Drake frowned. Something was wrong, a notion that was confirmed by the way Matthew Riley and Adam Morgan seemed to be offering her comfort. As he jerked off his thick, leather gloves, he hurried to where the three stood by the pot-bellied stove.
When her gaze caught his, he knit his brows. “What’s wrong?”
“I shall explain later.” Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. “It’s about what we…discussed, about Carolyn Burton.”
Drake had to bite his tongue to keep her secret, a tough thing to do since Matthew Riley and Adam Morgan were good men who were clearly concerned about Kayla. Someone was damned anxious to find her, and he was pretty sure he knew who.
Her past might be catching up with her, and he wasn’t sure what to do to protect her. Instinct made him want to bundle her up and get her back to the farm, to hide her away and hope the Carringtons and all their money couldn’t reach all the way to Montana.
But he wasn’t that naïve. Their power and fortune could find Kayla anywhere. If he was going to help her, he needed her to tell him more about what happened—to tell him everything. And he needed allies.
Judging from the uneasiness he saw very clearly coming from Matthew and Adam, they might be a good place to start.
Kayla hurried to his side, and her eyes were entreating him to take her into his arms. While that was exactly what he wanted to do, he resisted temptation. That last thing in the world she needed was more gossip. He wasn’t about to add to the trouble dogging at her heels by making her the target of every busybody in town. But the need to comfort her was nearly overwhelming.
“How you doin’, Drake?” Matthew asked as he and Adam took seats on opposite sides of the cracker barrel. From the looks of it, they had been in the middle of a chess game.
“Doin’ fine, Marshal. Any news from town since last time we visited?” Not very subtle, but Drake was nearly frantic with wanting to know what had made Kayla so worried.
Before he replied, Matthew glanced around the shop as though being sure there weren’t any prying ears around to hear. “Been a few of those telegraphs from a Pinkerton detective. Says he’s from St. Louis and lookin’ for a Carolyn Burton. Wonderin’ if maybe they’re confusing her with our Miss Kayla. We might wanna be keepin’ an eye out around Gideon’s place.”
“Might be a good thing there’s been so much snow,” Adam added. “Discourages anyone from following those messages with a personal visit.”
“Who d’ja think I should be lookin’ for?” Drake asked.
After moving a pawn, Matthew turned to stare at him. “According to the telegraphs, a Pinkerton might be turnin’ up around the farm, lookin’ for a Kayla and thinking that our Kayla is who they’re after. Got yourself a shotgun?”
Drake nodded. “Got a revolver, too.”
With a bit of a grin, the marshal returned to his game. “A shame there’s not a way for you to call us if you need us,” he remarked.
“Maybe someday we shall all have telegraph lines to our homes,” Kayla said.
“For now,” Drake said, “we’ll keep our guard up.”
* * *
The snow began again not long after they got home, and Kayla let out a sigh, knowing it might be quite some time before they were able to head back into town. Just being in White Pines had cured some of the restlessness that had settled on her at being confined to the farm. Now that she knew Chantal Carrington wasn’t going to give up in her search, Kayla saw that isolation as a comfort. If she couldn’t leave the farm, then it would be difficult for anyone to travel here.
While Drake was busy tending to the horse and sleigh, she tried to find a good place to hide the small present she’d purchased for him. He hadn’t made acquiring the gift easy, because he’d been her shadow for the majority of the time they’d been in town. Only when he’d gone to fetch the horse had she been able to quickly complete her purchase. Thankfully, she’d been able to spirit the gift into the other packages without him seeing.
Since he rarely went into Drew and Gideon’s room, she put the present in one of the drawers of Drew’s bureau and then headed back to her room to remove the multiple layers of clothes. Once dressed more appropriately, she went to the kitchen to put the supplies away and prepare a nice, hot meal.
* * *
Drake poured an extra scoop of grain into Rusty’s feed bucket—a proper reward for the animal deigning to pull a sleigh all the way to White Pines and back. As usual, the horse had been well-behaved.
After giving Rusty a few affectionate strokes, Drake closed the barn doors to spare the animals the wind that had begun to gust. If his instincts were correct—and they usually were—more snow was on the way. Probably not another blizzard, but surely enough to keep him and Kayla isolated on the farm.
Good.
In fact, what he wanted most was to keep her here and hide her from the world. Especially from the Carringtons.
He frowned as he thought about all she’d told him about her past. She’d been betrothed to a man who made Drake look like a pauper. Hell, Gregory Carrington made every other man on the continent seem poor in comparison. But Drake couldn’t help but worry that Kayla would think that he had little to offer her for a comfortable future.
Future?
What right did he have to even think about making what was happening between them something more perm
anent? Yet he did think about it. Often. Now that they were lovers, he couldn’t help but wonder if she might grow to feel the same. Kayla wasn’t a woman who would give herself to a man without genuine emotions being involved.
That gave Drake pause. Did she care for him?
Yes, he was sure she did.
Could she learn to love him?
Love?
What in the hell was wrong with him?
Grumbling to himself at the foolishness his thoughts had been traveling, he stomped his way back to the house. The wonderful aroma of whatever Kayla was cooking greeted him the moment he opened the door. As he began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face, he smiled when she came hurrying over to help him out of his coat.
“You must be freezing.” She took the coat and hung it on a peg. “I have a hot meal ready.”
“Thank you, Kayla.” Drake shed his gloves and tossed them aside. “I’m starvin’.” Before she could grab them and spread them by the fire as she usually did, he caught her hand and pulled her close. Then he gave her a no-nonsense kiss on the forehead, knowing that if he started kissing her in earnest, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could take her to bed. “Don’t let those telegraphs worry you.”
She frowned. “We both know that Chantal Carrington is the one sending the Pinkertons looking for me.”
“Why do you think she’d do that? I mean, you left, which is what she wanted, right?”
After thinking it over, she finally said, “Chantal is known for destroying anyone she deems a threat, especially to Gregory. Perhaps she fears that so long as I’m alive, Gregory may try to find me and marry me, silly though that theory sounds.”
“Not so silly.” What man would voluntarily give up someone as beautiful and smart as Kayla? “Not so silly at all.” His stomach let out a loud rumble, which gave him a good reason to change the subject before she could ask him to explain himself.