I shot a quick glance over my shoulder and caught Isaac very much awake, still slouched in his chair, but with his hat pushed up and his gaze intent on the incoming riders. He shifted his gaze to me, briefly, and I sensed his apprehension, then he went back to watching the riders.
Hitching my skirts up, I hurried over to him, Lydia close on my heels.
“I told you the posse’d be back,” Lydia said, her voice strained.
I ignored her as best I could, because as much as I didn’t want her to be right, I was afraid she was. The absolute last thing we needed was for the sheriff or his men to find Isaac lounging around on my property.
Now on his feet, Isaac headed for the door. I crowded him from behind, hurrying him along.
“I can walk. No need to push me.”
His irritation only heightened mine. “Fine. You know the way inside. I’ll let you know when they’re gone.”
I watched long enough to be sure he made it inside, then turned to the visitors approaching. I feared the worst—that Dawson and Dearborn themselves had come back to make a closer inspection for Isaac, or at the very least that Summers and another posse member had returned. But as they drew nearer, I recognized them as Silas Devol’s men, and although I was glad not to have to deal with either Gil or Clay, these men only brought a different set of problems to deal with.
I stepped up to meet them as they entered the yard. They were both large and imposing, but not in the way Silas was. Where Silas was soft and a little round in the middle, these men were all muscle and sharp edges. The first man tipped his hat to me. “Ma’am. We’re looking for Mrs. Frank Caldwell. I understand she lives here?”
“You know I’m Beth Caldwell.”
He surveyed the grounds, noting each person, then dismounted and stood in front of me.
“My name’s Avery Shaw, my colleague is Clem Dillon. We’re associates of Silas Devol.”
“I recognize you from the hotel the day you arrived.”
He nodded his acknowledgment, then paid a cursory glance at everyone again, specifically Lydia who was still nearby, then lowered his voice. “We’re here to discuss business with you Mrs. Caldwell, is there somewhere we could speak privately?”
I wasn’t fool enough to spend time alone with these men.
“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of my family.”
His brows came together, probably wondering how these women were my family. But my bet was that Silas had learned everything he could about Frank, and everyone I knew. I was quite sure they knew all about me and the women who lived with me.
“If that’s the way you want it.”
“It is.”
“As I’m sure you know, Frank died in considerable debt. Mr. Devol sent us to collect.”
“I’m aware Frank was in the midst of a streak of bad luck when he died. Mr. Devol made it perfectly clear how much I owe him.”
That five thousand loomed in my mind. All in all, I suppose it could have been worse. We’d seen much more than that in one game, and lost more, too. But it was still more than I’d expected, and certainly more than I could pay.
“I’ve made it clear to Silas that I can’t hope to come up with that much money.”
“Then we have a real problem, Mrs. Caldwell. Silas Devol doesn’t tolerate welshers.”
I wasn’t terribly impressed by Shaw’s puffed-up bravado, but the message was clear enough. I cursed Frank for keeping secrets from me, for leaving me completely unprepared to deal with the messes he left behind after his death. Of course, he hadn’t planned on dying, but in his line of work he should have been prepared. We both should have. After all, Frank was as good a cardsharp as he was at straight gambling. We’d worked our way all over the West making and losing fortunes just for the fun of it.
But if I’d known Frank had become so obsessed that he’d gone to Silas for a bankroll, I would have sat him down and set him straight. Barring results from that, I would have walked away no matter how much I loved him. I’d never wanted to be indebted to anyone, precisely because of this current predicament.
“It’s not a matter of welshing, Mr. Shaw. I just don’t have that kind of money, and I never will. Mr. Devol is aware of that fact.”
“The way I understand it, you and Frank were partners. Perhaps he squirreled some money away somewhere?”
“If he did, he never told me. And I don’t gamble anymore. Frank was the real sharp. I was just a decoy.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but they didn’t have to know that. “Either way, it’s not our problem you don’t have the money. It’s yours. We’re just here to encourage you to pay your debt.”
I’d dealt with these kind of men plenty during my Frank years and the name of the game was attitude. If they smelled blood, they’d go in for the kill, and things would go a lot worse than if I could just bluff them. Dealing with Silas would be a different story, but these were just hired thugs, and them, I could deal with. I placed a fist on my hip and summoned all my former sass.
“Well then, boys, consider me encouraged, but that doesn’t make the money appear out of nowhere.”
Clem Dillon slid from his horse and boxed me in between him and Shaw.
“Silas suggested that you could join him back on the circuit to work off your debt.”
“That is not an option.”
He shrugged. “If you need more incentive, we’ll be obliged to provide it. I hear that accidents happen all the time on farms, don’t you Avery?”
“I do, Clem. It’d be a shame if anyone here got hurt.”
“It would be a shame,” Isaac drawled from behind me, making me jump. I’d been so focused on Silas’s men that I hadn’t heard Isaac approach. Apparently Shaw and Dillon hadn’t heard him, either.
Isaac sidled up, hiding his bad shoulder behind me, and tipped his hat with his good hand.
“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
His voice was so deep it bordered on a growl. I felt the rumble of it in his chest where it touched my back. His words were polite enough, but even without looking at him, I could hear the undercurrent of cold threat in it.
“Who are you?” Shaw asked.
“Name’s not important, boys, but my presence is. I think Mrs. Caldwell is done with this conversation, aren’t you, Beth?”
“Indeed, I am.”
Shaw and Dillon grumbled, not sure how to handle this development, but finally climbed on their horses anyway. I’m sure they thought they’d show up and find a fragile widow they could intimidate. I wasn’t a fragile widow, but they hadn’t expected Isaac.
“We’re not done, Mrs. Caldwell. You have two weeks to settle your debt with Silas.”
I didn’t want to ask, but needed to know for sure. “Or what?”
“Silas said to tell you he’ll look forward to owning a new homestead.”
My stomach dropped as their horses wheeled and they rode out of the yard at a gallop, leaving a dusty pall in their wake.
I turned to find a grim look on Isaac’s face. “Who were those men?”
“I have a better question—what made you think it was a good idea to leave the house?”
“Why are you so angry? I came out to help.”
“I don’t need you to rescue me. I had the situation under control.”
“Well excuse me for trying to help, ma’am. Correct me if I’m wrong, though, but they left in an awful hurry when I showed up.”
His arrogance reminded me of Frank, too, only he wielded it differently.
“Did it not occur to you that as a wanted man it might not be a good idea to show your face on my property? By doing so you put me and my friends at risk? What happens if those men go back to town and talk? Talk gets around, you know.”
“I don’t know who they are, specifically, but they work for a powerful man, am I right?”
I nodded.
“Their kind will tell their boss, who will keep the information secret until it’s useful to him. Those men,” he ges
tured at the trail where Shaw and Dillon had left, “they’re trained to keep their mouths shut. They won’t say a word to anyone.”
That was basically the conclusion I’d come to, but it impressed me that he read them the same way. I considered him for a moment, wondering what he’d done in his past that required him to be able to read people.
“Well, I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Chapter Seven
~Isaac~
That night I took my supper and retreated to the barn. The animals had to be better company than the women.
I couldn’t for the life of me understand Beth’s anger. I’d saved her from those men, yet instead of gratitude all I got was belligerence. The only one of them who hadn’t stuck me with a glare of some sort was Nellie, but she still kept her distance and regarded me with suspicion.
I took a bite of the stew, but didn’t really taste it.
“What do you think?” I asked Big Black. “Those men weren’t about to leave her alone. They could have hurt her and the other women. I saved her from them.”
He snorted. No help at all.
From the window, I’d seen them crowding her, looming over her, and I hadn’t even thought about it. I couldn’t let them hurt her. I’d just acted.
“I suppose she has a point about the risk.” I couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect herself and her own, but between them all I’d felt less hostility in the midst of a gunfight.
Problem was, I found myself concerned those men would return. I needed to leave, but what if they came back to do more than threaten, and I wasn’t here to protect her? It wasn’t my job to protect Beth, as she’d made clear, but I couldn’t in good conscience leave while I knew she was in danger. She wasn’t as able to protect herself as she thought, especially against the likes of them.
Damn if this wasn’t the exact kind of entanglement I didn’t need right now.
My appetite gone, I left the dishes on a hay bale and reached for the pitchfork, rolling my shoulder to test it. Despite a shameful display this morning when I’d almost passed out, I was stronger this evening. My shoulder protested some, but the pain was tolerable, so I set to feeding the stock.
By the time Beth found her way to the barn, I’d worked up a sweat, but still hadn’t resolved the problem to my satisfaction, other than to conclude that I needed to talk to Beth about the situation. If that meant staying another day or two, so be it.
“You shouldn’t overdo that shoulder,” she said, hovering just inside the barn door.
“I’ve had worse injuries. The best way to heal is just to get back to using it,” I said. At least the animals had been fed and I’d filled half the stalls with fresh straw.
“Just the same, you’ve only been up for a day.”
“I’ll survive.”
She seemed uncomfortable, averting her eyes and scuffing the toe of her boot at the dirt on the floor.
“I wish you hadn’t witnessed that scene this afternoon.”
“I’m more worried about them coming back.”
“You needn’t worry. I can handle them. But I apologize for losing my temper. You did what you thought you had to,” she looked at me from under her lashes and flashed me a shy, teasing smile, “even if you didn’t really think about it first.”
It would be easy to get lost in her smile, and in trying every day to make her do it again. That reminded me of how those men this afternoon had stolen the brightness from her eyes.
“Beth, who were those men?”
She waved off my question as if it was nothing. “Nobody important.”
But she wouldn’t meet my eye, and hung by the door as if ready to escape at any moment. She seemed strung tight and ready to spring.
I leaned the pitchfork against a post and closed the space between us. I tucked a finger under her chin and forced her head up so she’d look at me. Her concern was evident in her eyes.
“I don’t believe you.” I said. “They threatened you, and you’re still upset by it.”
She held my gaze but didn’t say a word. I supposed that was fair. I was a stranger and she didn’t want to share her business with me, but that didn’t stop me from being troubled by the whole affair. If concern didn’t weigh so heavy in her eyes, I’d believe her. But her face said otherwise.
Damn. I couldn’t afford to feel responsible for her. When it came down to it, though, I was obligated to her. She’d saved my life and given me a safe place to rest. I really needed to leave, but those men would be back. I could feel it.
She shifted, looking down at the floor again as if the answers to her problems could be found in the dirt there.
“It’s not your worry. I told you, I’ll handle it. You have your own troubles. At any rate, I just wanted to apologize for today.”
She took a step for the door, but I didn’t want her to leave just yet. Obligation was one thing, but the memory of our kiss last night burned in my thoughts even if she hadn’t said a word about it. The need to keep her safe jumbled up in my mind with the desire to kiss her again. Having her this close made it impossible to think straight.
But what could one more kiss hurt? I’d be gone as soon as I was sure she was out of harm’s way, and another kiss from Mrs. Caldwell would be a fine memory to keep me warm before I died.
I took one more step, and leaned an arm on the barn door frame, towering over her, and blocking her from leaving. She was close enough I caught the scent of her—still earthy from her work in the garden, with a hint of rosewater in her hair, and I couldn’t help but breathe her in deep.
When she finally looked at me again, her head came up slowly, her gaze crawling up the length of me, setting me on fire an inch at a time. By the time her eyes finally reached mine, peeking out from under those long, dark blond lashes, I fought to put two rational thoughts together.
“Was there something else you wanted to say?” she asked, her voice a husky whisper.
Her cheeks burned pink, her lips were full and red, and all I really wanted was to taste her again. Somewhere in my lust-clouded mind a voice told me that I’d be leaving soon, and where I went I likely wouldn’t return, so it wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of her. But that thought got lost in the fog real quick.
I leaned in so my lips were near her ear and said, “No, ma’am.”
She shivered when my breath brushed her neck. She leaned into me, which felt very much like a request for more, so that’s exactly what I gave her when I kissed that soft spot on her neck right below her ear.
She lifted a hand to place it on my chest and the warmth of it was near to scorching.
Sweet Jesus this woman was dangerous. The way she heated my blood, suddenly decency and decorum seemed like my best defense; otherwise I’d skip right past a simple kiss and end up taking her right on the barn floor. When an image of her underneath me, unbuttoned and uncombed, her lips swollen from my kisses, her back arching at my touch, flashed into my mind I had to cough to cover the groan that threatened to escape.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. I felt control of the situation slipping away.
“The animals are all fed for the night,” I said, covering her hand with mine and staring like a fool into those blue eyes of hers. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
A slow and suggestive smile crept over her lips, and she cocked a brow at me, daring me to answer my own question. This was more like the Beth rumors had suggested her to be, and as a man who rarely turns down a dare, I took it upon myself to consider that smile an invitation.
Holding her gaze with mine, I curled my fingers into hers and lifted her hand to my lips. Not letting her look away, I kissed her palm. When her lips parted and she sucked in a breath, I kissed the inside of her wrist, barely touching my lips to the skin there. I swear she tasted like heaven. She shivered, so I kissed her again, touching her wrist just barely with the tip of my tongue, then blowing on the dampness I’d made. I watched the shiver-bumps rise on her skin and the c
hoked little sound she made had other parts of me desirous of more than just these tender kisses.
When I straightened and looked her in the eyes, she placed her free hand on my heart, then slid it up my chest and around the back of my neck where it was warm and soft just like I remembered her lips to be.
“Will you be kissing me again, Mr. Collins?” she asked, and I glanced down at her mouth, quirked up into an enticing little smile. She didn’t have to ask me twice. I leaned in and took that sweet mouth with mine, and she gave as good as she got.
When I tested the seam of her lips with my tongue, she opened right up for me like a morning glory. She tasted like honey and sunshine and happiness and it all went to my head faster than I could think. I found myself urging her back against the doorway and pushing her legs apart with my knee so I could get closer to her, feel her body on mine. Dear God in Heaven, I wanted her under me. I wanted to be inside her, to feel her warmth surrounding me and holding me close.
When she reached for my belt, though, a surprising thought struck me cold—Beth was the kind of woman a man would marry, the kind of woman I would marry. She wasn’t the kind of woman I wanted to take in a barn, then leave behind like a common whore. I couldn’t treat her that way, as much as my body begged me to, so I broke the kiss and stepped back, struggling to pull myself together again. It wasn’t easy, either, when I got a good look at her with the moonlight in her hair, her eyes still half-closed and hazy with desire, and her lips pink and swollen. It took every bit of strength I had not to take her up against that doorway and finish what we’d started.
“Isaac?” Her voice was drowsy with confusion.
“You’d better go back to the house,” I said, taking one more step back to put space between us. I’d miscalculated. One kiss from Beth would never be enough, and with the future I had staring me in the face, it did me no good to wish I could stay and live in this woman’s arms. I’d stay long enough to be certain she was safe, but any longer and Dawson and Dearborn would find me and hang me whether I deserved it or not. Worse than that, if they found me here, they’d punish Beth, and I could never live with that.
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