Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

by Victoria Vane

  Lucas walked out of the saloon deep in thought. Life never gave any guarantees and he knew for a fact everyone lived on borrowed time. At the same time, Lucas figured when the time came for him to marry, it would be as obvious as the gun aimed directly at him.

  He dove for the ground behind a horse trough just as two shots rang out. Gun drawn, he crawled to the end of the trough and shot towards the man once.

  "Lucas McKade!" the man called out. "Your days are numbered." Another two shots rang out. Screams and the slamming of doors sounded as people rushed to hide.

  From his vantage point, it was hard to see where, exactly, the man had moved. From what he had seen, the man had two guns. "What do you want?" he called out.

  "Nothing much, just you dead," the man answered, giving Lucas an idea of where the shooter was. Lucas crawled to the opposite side of the trough and saw the man who shot at him.

  Why had he chosen this profession? Lucas pulled his other revolver and rolled out from behind the trough shooting. The man fell from the horse and hit the ground with a hard slam. Dust flew around his form as he struggled to lift his arm to shoot back at Lucas.

  Lucas rushed toward him and kicked the gun from his hand. "Who sent you?"

  Cold eyes met his as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of the man's mouth. "You killed him. You killed my boy." The man's eyes went blank.

  "Was that the man with our prisoner?" Brogan came up and dismounted.

  "Yeah. Recognize him?"

  "No."

  "Seems familiar." Lucas studied the dead man's face. "Said something about me killing someone. I suppose he was out for revenge." Having been a US Marshal for many years, it was hard to recall each and every outlaw he'd been ordered to arrest.

  The men he killed, however, he never forgot. In total, he figured about ten. The only ones he didn't know for sure were the casualties from the shootout just earlier that year. Too many shots were fired and there were over ten outlaws involved.

  "He almost got you," someone said.

  "May have worked if they'd not gotten drunk and fought once getting to town." Lucas motioned to two men. "Get someone to bury him."

  As he headed toward the jailhouse, he looked to the apothecary. Camille looked through the glass, her wide eyes meeting his.

  At the lurch in his chest, he could only look back at her. This was not the time to allow feelings in. He'd promised Sarah he'd speak to her and he would, but after that he'd keep his distance.

  Too many shadows in his life and there was no need to put anyone important to him in danger.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE EVENING SHADOWS FILLED HER SMALL SHOP and Camille stretched while yawning. It had been a rather slow afternoon. She’d taken advantage of it and done some sewing. Now, as the street outside was devoid of people, a tension formed. The front door was locked, as she tended to keep it once the daylight faded. Her customers knew to knock if they needed to come in late in the day.

  During the day she didn't worry overmuch at being alone, but once evening came, Camille dreaded the darkness, the things that couldn't be seen. To her, it was eerie that manmade sounds dimmed as nature's became louder, bird calls echoed and the wind rustling through leaves could be heard.

  When soft knocks sounded, she jumped, her heart thumping against her chest. She stood and took tentative steps toward the door. The outline of a tall male made her shrink back against the wall. Camille couldn't help the wobbling of her knees. God, who could it be? Men rarely came to her shop and never at sunset. Not daring to move, she remained flattened beside the door.

  "Camille? Are you there? It's Lucas McKade."

  His familiar deep voice made her giddy with relief. "One minute."

  She unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Please, come in."

  The blue eyes she'd thought of almost nonstop in the last few days met hers. He studied her for a moment. "I won't come inside if it makes you uncomfortable."

  Taking a step back, she motioned with her arm for him to enter. "I am not uncomfortable with your presence.” That was a lie, but one she could live with. Her nerves on edge, it was all she could do not to beg the man to sleep there in the shop so she would not be alone.

  When he walked past her, she noticed his damp hair. It was long enough to curl on his shirt collar. He pulled off his hat and immediately his presence filled the space. "Is something wrong? You seem scared."

  "A bit nervous I must admit. Not sure why, just seems like a very quiet night. Eerie." She waved a hand in the air hoping to convince him it was a light matter. "The way of us women, I suppose. To find evenings a bit daunting."

  Although he nodded, Lucas didn't seem convinced. "Yes, well, I came to see how you were and ask if you'd like to join me for dinner. Maybe getting out and into the spooky outdoors will put your fears at bay."

  His attempt at humor worked. She smiled in spite of herself.

  At her hesitation to reply, he swallowed and let out a breath.

  "Just dinner, Miss Johnston. I'll have you back home safe and sound right afterwards.” When he didn't move closer but remained by the door, it gave her a sense that he was not like other men. His gaze never left her face as he motioned to her shawl. "What do you say?"

  "Very well," Camille answered, picking up her covering to wrap around her shoulders. "I do feel a bit restless. Perhaps the cool air will help."

  He allowed her out first and the headed to the small, eating establishment where most of the single men in Silver City had their meals. Rarely did women go there in the evenings, unless accompanied or traveling through.

  Upon entering the establishment, two things assaulted Camille: the aroma of good food and the different people pausing to look at her and Lucas.

  This was a mistake. However, it was too late to go back. It would spark more tongue wagging than their presence together had already, no doubt, started.

  Unlike her, Lucas moved with assurance through the room, his hand on her elbow guiding her. He greeted people with an easy confidence of a well-liked person in town and asked a couple about their son, who apparently had been ill.

  The wife smiled broadly at him, explaining they were finally able to leave their home and shop for necessities since the baby was fully recovered and explained the grandmother was caring for the infant so they could come to town. She gushed at Lucas until the husband cleared his throat and reminded her that perhaps she could allow them to go and find a table.

  Once they sat, a friendly woman, Florence, one of Camille's regular customers neared. "Well good evening to the both of you." She placed her hands on her wide hips. "I've got some fried chicken with biscuits and plenty of fresh butter that will make you lick your fingers off.” She let out a hearty laugh. "Or if you prefer, I also have chicken stew."

  "I'll take the fried chicken," Lucas said, his eyes wide. "I'm hungry for your great cookin' Miss Florence."

  The woman beamed and looked to Camille. "Well this is a nice surprise. Glad you could come and have supper tonight. That tea you recommended for a bad stomach worked wonders on the husband by the way."

  Camille ordered the fried chicken as well and Florence rushed away claiming to be back in a jiff.

  When Camille dared to look around the room, careful not to make eye contact, it was reassuring that the people at the surrounding tables had returned to their conversations and meals, not paying her and Lucas any mind.

  Although it was hard to fully relax, Camille was able to not feel too ill at ease in the company of so many.

  "It strikes me as strange that you are so uncomfortable around groups of people. Have you always been this way?" Lucas had obviously been watching her scan the surroundings.

  What could she say? Camille hated having to think her words through, to ensure she only divulged what would not give any indication of her past. "I like people, enjoy company, but for years now I prefer not to be around too many at once." That was as close to the truth as she could give. Camille kept her attention on the tab
le and her companion, not wanting to notice those around her any longer. It would make her too nervous.

  "I can understand. I've spent a lot of my time alone up to the last few months since coming here. When Brogan and I were US Marshals we spent weeks at a time alone out riding. So when I got to a new town or city, it would take a bit of an adjustment."

  Camille nodded. "You seem to fit in well here in Silver City. Everyone likes you and Sheriff Hage.”

  "Yes." His expression became shuttered, his gaze fell and he let out a breath. "It's a nice town. I am thankful for how well the people have accepted us."

  Brogan Hage was a large Scot with a reputation for being harsh. However, since arriving and taking over as sheriff, he'd been the perfect fit for the town. Although still severe, he was a fair lawman.

  They continued speaking of superficial things but Camille couldn't shake the feeling Lucas was testing her. As if he were looking for something she'd say or do that would bring a clue to a puzzle.

  When they'd finished the very delicious meal, they finally left the restaurant. He walked on the outside of the walkway, keeping his long strides in check as to not hurry her. "Miss Johnston, how do you feel since the fall?"

  "I'm fine. You can report back to Sarah that I'm not out of sorts. The other day when she came over, I was a bit distracted and she took it to mean I was not well."

  His lips curved. "She is protective of you. A good friend worries."

  "She is a good friend. I don't want to cause her any unease. I'm fine. Feel good. The wound doesn't hurt at all. Once the stitches come out, I'm sure the scar will heal well."

  Her eyes widened when he turned her to face him. The sun had set in the horizon, but there was still enough light to see clearly. He studied the side of her face. "I feel bad that you hurt yourself. I should have climbed up and helped you down."

  Too close. Camille took shallow breaths when he leaned in to inspect her face. He smelled good. Clean and masculine. His breath was warm as it fanned against her cheek. "I don't believe it will leave a scar at all. Sarah is a good doctor."

  When he finally moved away, she let out a breath and swallowed. "Yes, well, I agree."

  His lips curved. "I will report to her that you are fit and ready for the next tree climbing adventure."

  "You are making fun of me. I know it was not the most ladylike thing to do, but I wasn't about to remain on the ground and become trampled to death by that dreadful animal.” In spite of the awkwardness of just a moment earlier, she chuckled at the picture she must have presented when he came upon her.

  Lucas wasn't sure how to end the evening. He'd delayed as much as he could, but they were only steps away from her shop and he'd be forced to bid her a good night. He enjoyed her company and couldn't keep from stealing glances at her. The woman was not only beautiful, but also quite nice. There were no signs of any type of ill effects from the fall. The only time she'd reacted strangely was upon entering the restaurant. It was easy to notice how ill at ease she was around groups of people. But after a while, as he guided the conversation to pleasant topics, she'd relaxed and seemed to enjoy her meal.

  He didn't want their time together to end. There was no way, however, to keep from depositing her at home and going on his way.

  Besides, it would be a mistake to attempt to get to know her better. As much as he wanted to, there was still the matter of the outlaws to see about. Once he and Brogan decided what action would suit best, it could be they'd have to leave Silver City and return to their old profession.

  The life of a US Marshal was not a good way to start any kind of relationship or family. If he even survived whatever Bill Burns and his gang had planned.

  "You seem to have become lost in thought. Should I report this to Sarah?"

  He blinked at realizing they stood in front of her door and Camille was actually teasing him. "I--I'm sorry. Please don't tell her, she'll give me one of those horrible tonics of hers."

  It was magical when Camille laughed the musical sound made him join in. And before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed her lips. It was a soft, tentative kiss, more impulse than anything and immediately he regretted it.

  "I'm so sorry...I don't know why I did that." He took a step back. "Please don't think I expect anything from you. It was impulse. It was stupid and disrespectful of me."

  Camille stood stock still, frozen. Her eyes round. Finally, she blinked and gasped. "Well it was certainly unexpected.” In that instant, he saw a different side to her. She had a playful, almost flirty, personality that was quickly hidden. "Don't worry about it. No need to apologize. It... It was nice."

  Her lips curved and she turned to the doorway. "Goodnight, Mr. McKade."

  He touched his hat and opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, but she stopped him. "I had a wonderful time. Thank you for dinner. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight." Lucas remained rooted to the spot while she entered and closed the door behind her. Only when light shined through the second story window, did he turn to head to his home.

  He lived in the house that once belonged to the sheriff. When Brogan married Sarah, they'd live the house and he would relocate to the rooms behind the jailhouse. For now, the arrangements suited him well.

  The house was really much too large for two bachelors, but they managed to keep it tidy and sometimes even cooked, although most of the time Brogan ate with Sarah at her father's home. Frequently, he was included, but more times than not, he'd beg out, not wanting to constantly be underfoot.

  The house was dark and empty; obviously Brogan was still at Sarah's. So he went straight to his bedroom. Once he lit a lantern and settled it on a table, he began to undress. The entire time, his thoughts were on the woman above the apothecary. Camille Johnston. Something about her troubled him. Not just the attraction he felt, but he was also sure she was not indifferent to him.

  No there was something else. She was not who she portrayed.

  The way she'd automatically scanned the room was not as if she were nervous to be around people. It was more a reaction of survival. Not wanting to be recognized or perhaps ensuring she didn't sense danger from anyone in the room. Once she'd assured herself there was no one that she needed to be wary about, she had relaxed.

  Interesting, but not at all unheard of. Many women moved west to start a new life, many running from cruel circumstances. Was that Camille's situation?

  He wanted...no, he needed to know more about her. His mind on the woman he'd just left, Lucas lay on the bed, his arm curved over his head. He allowed sleep to take him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE OVERCAST DAY did not dim Camille's mood. She'd woken with a smile and now found herself humming as she wiped down the counter.

  The scales were gleaming and shelves dust free. The bell over the door tinkled as two women walked in. She recognized both and greeted them.

  "My, doesn't it just smell divine in here," the older woman of the two exclaimed to her friend. "I love walking in here."

  Ruth and her daughter, Gertrude, made a beeline for the shelf stacked with different fragrant soaps Camille made.

  The younger woman, Gertrude, smiled at Camille. "Mother says that every time we come in here. I bet you hear it all the time."

  "I do," Camille replied, returning the smile. "But I never tire of it."

  Ruth smiled warmly at Camille. "And I never tire of telling you what a wonderful, dear girl you are. It was a godsend when you stayed with Gertrude for an entire week while Leonard and I visited my sick sister," she said, referring to her husband.

  The woman picked up a bar of soap and sniffed it. "You have no idea what a burden you took off our shoulders. I was able to take care of sister without worrying about Gertrude being alone since Leonard had to take me."

  The women purchased soaps and then asked for specific teas and herbs. While they waited for Camille to measure and package, she invited them to taste the elderberry tea she'd just brewed.

  When the bell j
ingled next, just one woman entered. Immediately, the mood of the room changed. Ruth and Gertrude bristled at the presence of Lacy, the saloon madam.

  Unlike the women who immediately paid and took their leave, Camille greeted Lacy warmly. "Hello, Lacy. You look pretty in that green dress. How are you feeling?"

  The woman had come to her a week earlier, complaining of a constant stomach ailment. Camille had given her a mixture of herbs to brew and drink to help with whatever caused her discomfort.

  "I’m much better. I must tell you that I cannot start my day now without drinking my tea first."

  When the woman's gaze lingered a bit too long on her, Camille shifted. "Do you need more?"

  "Yes, please." Lacy finally slid her eyes to the jars on the shelves behind Camille. "And some chamomile, too, please. One of my girls loves to drink it."

  "I will give you a bit extra. Also some peppermint tea for Molly. Tell me, how is she doing?"

  "Much better. She'll be glad for the tea, thank you."

  Camille busied herself measuring and placing the tea into folded bags she'd made out of paper. "If you find your stomach pains return, I can add more peppermint to the mix.

  Lacy took a breath. "I heard you and McKade were over at the restaurant last night."

  Camille wasn't sure why the woman felt the need to bring up her dinner the day before. Unwilling to discuss Lucas, she focused on what she'd eaten. "Oh yes, the fried chicken supper was very good. I thought my mother made good chicken, but I think last night the meal was so much better. The biscuits were good, too. Now I'm going to want to return whenever she's making it again.”

  Camille considered that, in the future, she could pick up the food and bring it back to avoid eating there alone. "Have you tried it, Lacy?"

  The madam straightened and lifted a brow. "No. They don't take well to my kind in family establishments."

  It didn't occur to Camille how different of a life Lacy had than her. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. If you'd like, we can eat here one day. I am planning to pick it up and bring it back, since it's not comely for a woman to eat alone. I suppose we have that in common." Camille chuckled.