by Austin, Lori
Slowly, she crossed the floor and sat in the chair. Her hand shook as she reached out, smoothing her fingers over the empty bed.
The sheets were cold. He’d been gone awhile. Why was she so surprised? Why did it hurt so much?
Rising from the chair, she sank down on the bed and buried her face in the pillow where he’d slept. She smelled snow and salt; she remembered Christmas past and present.
What had Noah said?
Marry the sheriff. Have ten kids. Forget about me.
According to Noah there would be no Christmas future—for the two of them at any rate.
Ruth’s head lifted. She was getting mad, and she discovered that anger felt a whole lot better than sadness.
Marry the sheriff? After talking with Tildy, she didn’t think so.
Have ten kids with another man? Not hardly.
Forget him? Not in this lifetime.
Ruth punched the pillow, then threw it against the wall, slammed the bedroom door, kicked the table on the way through the kitchen, and stalked outside.
She rarely got angry. In the orphanage she’d been taught to obey and endure. Once in Kansas, she’d been so afraid of being sent away, she’d never raised her voice or stomped her foot. But right now, Ruth wanted to howl like a wolf, scream like the wind, pound against the ground with the force of a hailstorm, wreak devastation upon all that she saw like a plague of grasshoppers.
The wind chafed her heated face. She squinted into the breeze. The land all around her was gray brown and hard with winter frost, flat as Kansas could be. Nothing moved except …
To the west, a speck that might be a man on horseback or a stray cow. Who knew?
Ruth didn’t care. She filled her lungs with the ice of winter, threw up her hands to the steadily darkening sky, and shouted, “I’ll wait forever for you, Noah Walker. Do you hear me? Forever!”
The wind tore the words from her mouth and flung them across the abandoned prairie.
Chapter Five
Forever. Forever. Forever.
How could a word echo across a flat, open prairie? Perhaps it merely echoed in Noah’s beleaguered brain.
He slumped against Dog’s neck, holding on to the warm animal as the chill wind whispered through his hair and down his back. He’d wanted to be away before Ruth discovered him gone. He hadn’t quite made it.
If Ruth had seen him, she’d be racing in this direction. Forcing himself to sit up straight, he tensed at the thought of kicking Dog into a run. The big bay could outdistance anything on four legs, but Noah didn’t know if his body could bear the jostling. Just walking this far had so tired him that sweat dampened his clothes and dripped down his face.
Noah glanced at the farmhouse, but Ruth rode in the opposite direction. Despite her shout, she had not seen him. Which made Noah pause instead of going on. Had she merely been shouting her anger fruitlessly? Or making another vow?
He was leaving in order to free her, as she’d once freed him, from ties that were far more binding than a rope. But if those ties still bound her despite his desertion, was he freeing her at all or merely making her prison more bleak?
Noah rested his head against Dog’s neck once more. The horse pranced, anxious to be off. Dog loved to run almost more than he loved Noah.
“What should I do, big guy?”
The animal snorted, his breath creating a cloud of steam about his nose.
“She still thinks I’m her hero. But then she doesn’t know the truth. If I told her, that would change her mind. But if I told her, then I’d have to kill her.”
Noah laughed, a bit hysterically, he thought. That’s what Dooley always said whenever anyone figured out who they were.
“Old Dooley is dead, so to hell with him.” Noah laughed again. He was quite a cheery fellow today. Must be due to blood loss. “I’m sure it was to hell that Dooley went.”
Dog lowered his head, then raised it as if agreeing with all that Noah said, which was why Noah did an awful lot of talking to his horse. Dog was a very good listener—much better than any human—and a truer friend Noah had never found. The animal usually gave excellent advice, too.
“It would never work. The lady and the thief.” Dog huffed. Noah rubbed the horse’s neck. “Or you think perhaps the princess and the groom?”
His pal neighed, loud and emphatic. The sound made Noah’s ears ring. But it also made him think about what he’d just said. He straightened in his saddle too fast, and the world spun, then dipped.
“Whoa,” he murmured, both to himself and to Dog. “That’s it, big guy, You’re right again. If she won’t believe what I say, she’ll have to believe what she sees.”
Noah pointed Dog’s nose in the direction of Kelly Creek.
By the time Ruth returned home after discovering Noah had left her again, her anger had faded, leaving tears in its wake. She crawled into bed and stayed there until the next morning.
Then she stayed there some more.
Tildy, worried by Ruth’s uncommon mood swing, checked on her regularly until Ruth snarled that she wanted to be alone.
“Ah, so it’s like that.” Tildy patted Ruth’s feet. “A bad month, is it? Well, you just lay there, missy, and rest. I’ll bring you some tonic, and by tomorrow you’ll be fit and happy, I swear.”
Ruth doubted she’d ever be happy, but if pretending to be indisposed in a female way earned her peace, quiet, and a day to mourn, she’d keep her mouth shut. She even drank Tildy’s tonic of witch hazel, bayberry, and ginger in a glass of hot milk, though it did no good, since she wasn’t really sick except at heart.
Ruth extended her “illness” another day. By then, however, Tildy started to hover and make noises about a doctor.
When Ruth’s father came into her room and demanded to know how he was going to manage the New Year’s party on his own, Ruth dragged herself upright and soldiered on.
New Year’s Eve had always been Ruth’s favorite night of nights. Because for that one night, in front of a crowd, her father treated her as if she were a princess—his princess—his heiress, if not his heir. Someone to be valued and displayed.
Even though New Year’s Day brought a return to the way things always were, for that one night Ruth felt special. The party would fill her with food, drink, and false cheer, and amid the crush of guests she would not ring in a new year all alone.
Last-minute preparations occupied Ruth’s mind. The arrival of out-of-town guests filled her daylight hours. The only time she remembered Noah and ached was in her sleep, and there was nothing that could be done about that. A woman dreamed what she dreamed regardless of how much it hurt.
December 31 arrived quickly, considering.
At eight o’ clock in the evening, Ruth put the finishing touches on her hair, then stepped back to assess the effect in the mirror. She’d smoothed the red mass away from her face and covered most of the vulgar color with a chignon to match her new silk dress. The spring pink contrasted sharply with the autumn of her hair, which appeared garish in the candlelight. But her eyes shone bright green, like new grass across the prairie, and the cut of the gown emphasized her full breasts and slim waist.
“You’ll do,” she told her reflection. “Well enough.”
“Ruth?” Her father’s voice drifted from below. “The first guests are arriving.”
Ruth stuffed her feet into dainty, high-heeled satin slippers that matched her ensemble and hurried down the stairs to join her father at the door.
She awaited his reaction to the dress he had chosen. As usual, the quick frown, the flick of his gaze toward the picture of Susan, then a carefully blank countenance returned to her, stripped away all of Ruth’s confidence.
“Don’t slouch” was his only greeting.
Ruth snapped her shoulders back and met the first guests with typical false brightness. The stream of arrivals was steady. Last year, Tim had been unable to handle the volume himself, and many of the men had stood outside in the cold to help. Her father had been furious t
hat his guests had been made into grooms.
Amid a tiny lull, Ruth asked, “Did you get some help for Tim?”
“Yes. You were ill, and I didn’t want to bother you. Found a man in town. He’s been of great assistance to Tim with the party, and he’s very handy, too. Tim’s had a hard time keeping up with the repairs, but this man seems to know a little bit about everything.”
Ruth opened her mouth to ask the name of this great help and where he’d come from so fortuitously, but at that moment two families from Kelly Creek tumbled inside, and she was occupied steadily from then on.
The house filled with voices, laughter, and music. Tildy had outdone herself with the food and the drinks. The party was a crush. So many folks in one place heated the air to an uncomfortable level. Ruth opened the windows, and music spilled into the night.
She danced with a prominent political leader from Kansas City, then the undertaker of Kelly Creek, a young officer stationed at Fort Leavenworth, and any number of illustrious sons whose fathers banked funds with hers.
James and Deanna Harker arrived late, and Ruth hurried to welcome Leon’s parents, embarrassed she had not even thought to seek word of him before now.
Mrs. Harker pressed her cheek to Ruth’s. “We’re sorry to be late, but we’d hoped Leon would come home in time to join us.”
“Is he all right?”
“We haven’t heard a word since he left.”
Considering the Harkers owned the general store, through which all news passed, that meant there was no news to be had.
Ruth could not recall Leon’s ever being away from Kelly Creek this long. He must be miserable. “Who’s minding the jail?”
“His cousin,” Mr. Harker replied. “Clemson.”
“He’s seventeen,” Ruth pointed out.
Mr. Harker shrugged. “He was the only one left. Every man of decent age went with Leon. We need to get this Kansas Gang now, before they ride any farther west, before they decide to shoot up Kelly Creek and take all the money from your daddy’s bank. If there’s any chance of catching the bastards—”
“James!” Mrs. Harker elbowed her husband in the ribs.
“Pardon me, Miss Ruth. If there’s any chance of catching Kansas and the rest, Leon will stay out there until it’s done. He’s that kind of man.”
“He is. Though I’m sorry he won’t be here to dance with me at midnight,” Ruth lied.
“I’m sure he’s sorry, too, dear.” Mrs. Harker patted Ruth’s arm. “But by next year you’ll be married. Then you can dance every night at midnight if you like.”
Ruth blinked. “I—ah— You see … Well—” She snapped her mouth shut, stumped.
Leon had told his parents that she’d accepted his proposal this time around. She sighed. What should she say to them? That she didn’t love their son? That she loved a man who had run off and wasn’t coming back? That she’d rather wait forever for a ghost than make a good life with a dependable man?
Foolishness, Mrs. Harker would say, and she’d be right. But that didn’t make Ruth want to marry Leon any more now than she had any of the times he’d asked.
“What were you saying, Ruth?”
“Nothing. Have a nice time.”
The Harkers moved off toward the buffet table.
Ruth looked out the front door and into the starlit night. She was glad Leon wasn’t here. Even though she’d danced in the new year with him for the past several years, the thought of doing so again only made her want to cry. She wanted to dance at midnight with Noah and no one else.
But when the last dance came—Ruth glanced at the clock in the hall—and it would come very soon, she’d have to dance with someone.
The far-off neigh of a horse brought an interesting notion to mind. She’d have to dance with someone … unless she hid in the barn.
Her gaze on the room, Ruth sidled toward the open door. She slipped onto the porch. Cool, fresh, free air surrounded her. Music filled the night. She picked up her pink skirts and hurried across the yard, expecting someone to shout her name any moment, call her back, make her stay.
But no one did. She reached the sanctuary of the barn and slipped inside.
The place was full of horses, but Tim was nowhere in sight. As Ruth leaned against the door, struggling to catch her breath while her corset threatened to press every last bit of air from her lungs, a man came in from the corral, pausing in the open doorway on the opposite side of the barn.
The man wasn’t Tim.
The room spun. Ruth feared she was dreaming again.
She must have made a noise, because his head went up. He stared at her down the length of the barn. Although his face was in shadow, Ruth would know him anywhere.
“Well, Princess, what brings you down to the barn with the grooms?”
***
Noah had been working as Robert Kelly’s groom for the better part of a week, and not once had Ruth graced the stables. Since the entire purpose of this exercise was to show her that a princess did not mix with a groom, he shouldn’t have been surprised that their paths did not cross.
Yet he was.
He’d been wondering how he was going to prove his point if he never saw her, and then there she was, the provocative catch of her breath making him think of days beneath the sheets and sex beneath the stars.
“What are you doing here?” Her face full of joy, she started toward him.
Her breasts nearly spilled from the low-cut neckline of a horrible pink gown. Pale skin flushed a more becoming shade than the dress; a dew of sweat made the ripe mounds glisten in the lantern light. The cold blue stone nestled at the cleft; her chest rose and fell too fast, hypnotizing him when he needed to think clearly.
Instinctively, Noah stepped back. This was not going at all as he’d planned. Nothing had lately.
“You’d better stay by the door, Ruth.” He pointed back where she’d been, and his hand shook. He dropped the offending appendage and stuffed it into the pocket of his only pair of pants. He wanted to touch her with that hand—touch her and a whole lot more.
She faltered to a stop halfway between Noah and the door. “Why?”
“The barn is filthy, Princess. Your slippers will get ruined.”
She scowled, lifted first one foot, then the other, and tossed her shoes back the way she’d come. “There. Now my slippers are safe.”
Barefoot, she advanced.
Her slippers might be safe, but he wasn’t. The sight of her without shoes, and barely any dress from the waist up, was the most dangerous thing he’d ever known.
“You’ll freeze,” he said, fighting the urge to pick her up.
“I’m quite warm enough.”
She came so close that her dress swirled about his ankles. Noah looked down, over the brilliant swell of her breasts, past her cinched waist, beyond the bell of her skirts, to the horseshit on his boots, which was now all over her hem.
He stumbled back, and she caught his arms. “Where are you going?”
“Y-your dress. It touched me, and now it’s ruined.”
“To hell with the dress, Noah.” She threw up her hands. “I have ten more. What are you doing here?”
She had ten more. That truth reminded him of exactly what he was doing here. “I’m the new groom, Princess.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth thinned. “Quit calling me Princess.”
“Why? It fits so well.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?”
He was here to show her the truth. Just because he wanted to touch her face, kiss her hair, nuzzle her neck, run his tongue along the slope of those perfect breasts, then lay her down in the hay to—
Damn! Noah took a deep breath and plunged forward with cutting words. “I’ve been working here nearly a week, and I’ve never seen you once. And why should I? You’re the princess. Why would you be in the barn with the grooms? Why are you in the barn with the grooms?”
“Groom,” she sna
pped. “Where’s Tim?”
“One of the horses ran off toward the creek. He took a mount and went to chase him down.”
She nodded absently. Her earlier agitation had flown, her more recent annoyance fading fast. As she came close once again, Noah stilled.
Before he could back away, she caught both his hands and squeezed them tight when he would have pulled away. “I don’t care about my dress,” she whispered. “I don’t care about my shoes or my feet or anything but you.”
This was what he’d stayed to put a stop to. She had to see that though they may have started on the same train, they’d arrived at different destinations. Because he cared for her, he would make sure that she didn’t waste her life waiting for his train to catch up with hers. Because it never would.
“You shouldn’t be out here. You should be in there dancing with all the big bugs.”
“But I don’t want to dance with them.” She went on tiptoe and brushed her mouth across his. The tiny kiss weakened Noah’s knees. “I want to dance with you.”
She laid her head upon his chest. Her hair brushed his chin, the scent of crushed lilacs released. Her arms went around his waist. Noah’s heart rolled over, one slow, painful lurch, and he was lost.
“I can’t dance,” he murmured.
“I don’t care about that, either.”
Into the silence Dog blubbered an opinion between loose lips. Noah ignored him. What did a horse know?
At any rate, he could think of nothing but the perfect way Ruth fit against him. Why he was here, what he’d meant to prove, faded in the wonder of Ruth. Noah couldn’t stop himself; he embraced her, and when the music from the party drifted through the half-open doorway and she swayed in time with the beat, he couldn’t help but sway along with her.
“We’ll take a cup of kindness yet for auld lang syne,” she sang, and her breath caressed his throat, making him shiver.
Noah tightened his arms about her back, shifting her against him. Perhaps the evidence of his desire would frighten her, though somehow he doubted it.
He was right. She merely snuggled closer, arousing him further.
The music died. A strange, waiting silence followed. “That’s the last song of the year,” she murmured. “Listen.”