The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances

by Hubbard, Lynn

  Brock waited for more of the story but Will didn’t continue. He looked over at the boy, but he was just staring off into space. “You should go to bed. It’s late.”

  Sabrina shook her head no. “I don’t want to sleep. I’ll have dreams.”

  Brock frowned, remembering the terrified cries earlier, in town. He wished he could ease his mind. “Do you want to lie down with me?”

  Sabrina nodded gratefully, too tired to think of anything else. Brock scooted over against the wall and she climbed in next to him. Brock whispered good night, but she was already asleep.

  Brock awoke at first light. He felt a warm body pressed against him, and it took him a second to remember he had let the boy sleep with him. In sleep, Will had wrapped himself around Brock with his head nestled comfortably on Brock’s chest. Alarmed by his body’s reaction Brock quickly disentangled himself and headed outside to get some fresh air.

  Sabrina was disgruntled at her rude awakening. She couldn’t remember ever sleeping so well. Smiling at Brock’s hasty departure, she stood up and stretched. She wished she could sleep as well every night. However, the odd look that Brock gave her when he came back in squashed any hope of a repeat.

  Frowning, she headed out to bathe in the creek nearby. She told Brock so he wouldn’t come down to the creek by accident. She took her muddy clothing from yesterday with her to wash out. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. Cleaning them as best she could, she then took the lye soap and scrubbed every inch of herself. The water was very cold but refreshing. Donning her clean clothes she took her wet clothes back to the house to hang on the clothes line out back. There were a couple of clothespins left on the line and she used them to secure her items.

  Her mind wandered as she went about her task. She felt so comfortable and so…safe when in Brock’s arms. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up her charade. She was scared he would hate her if she told him, and she was scared he would hate her if she didn’t. Remembering the look of guilt he gave her this morning–as if he had done something wrong–she sighed and went back inside.

  Brock was at the stove. “Morning,” she said, coming up behind him to watch. It always amazed her how quickly the thick clear egg whites turned pure white. Brock only nodded to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly almost to herself.

  He looked at her quizzically. “Sorry? For what?”

  “For being such a nuisance. I would understand if you asked me to leave.”

  Brock’s heart ached as he looked down at Will. Maybe he’d overreacted this morning. Now the boy thought he was angry with him when, really, he was angry at himself. He did not want the boy to leave. Hell, he had no place else to go. No, he would just have to be more cautious in the future. Keep himself in check.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” Brock muttered, avoiding those eyes as he turned back to breakfast. “I’m sorry if I made you think that. I guess I’m just used to living alone.”

  They went outside to eat and Sabrina felt the best she had felt in a long time. Even before the fire. She felt Brock’s eyes on her and boldly looked up to meet them. He glanced away. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer,” Sabrina said, feeling a sense of dread creep over her.

  “The night of the fire. When I grabbed you to pull you out, you called me Samuel. Who’s Samuel?” The question had been nagging at him lately.

  Sabrina frowned; she did not remember that from the night of the fire. In fact she wished there was a lot more from that night that she could forget.

  “Samuel is…was my best friend from back home. We did everything together. He saved my life. I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for him.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Yes. I mean, I hope so.”

  “Well, why did you leave?” Brock asked curiously.

  “I don’t wanna talk anymore.” Sabrina stood up and walked off to the barn. Let him wash the friggin’ dishes, she thought, greeting Troy. She started brushing him to calm herself. She didn’t want to lie to Brock. But she just couldn’t tell him the truth. It was best just to walk away. Seems like I’ve been doing that for a long time. Running. And I’m getting damn tired of it.

  Knowing that Brock needed to go to town, she saddled Troy and had him ready when Brock appeared in the barn. She forced a small smile to let him know she wasn’t mad at him. In one graceful move he was on the large horse and he leaned down to offer her his hand. She hesitated briefly and then grabbed it, swinging up behind him.

  While Brock worked, Sabrina went around looking for a job. She knew that Mr. Swanson would probably give her one at the saloon but she knew that he didn’t need any help and any job he offered her would be charity on his part so that would be a last resort.

  She tried most places on Main Street but nobody was hiring. Finally, she went down to the river and watched the men loading the boats. She knew she was not strong enough for that type of work but it did help pass the time as she rested her weary feet. Her thoughts kept going back to Brock. She wondered if he regretted letting her stay with him. It was twice as much work on his part. She hadn’t learned to cook yet. Maybe Mac could teach her and she could surprise him with supper. With a plan in mind, she stood and headed toward the saloon. Mac was behind the counter, as usual, and she greeted her old friend. It had only been a couple of days since she’d seen him last but it seemed like much longer.

  Mac frowned at her. “You’re looking kinda puny; ain’t he been feeding you?”

  “Yes, I just ain’t had much of an appetite lately. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Shame. You could bunk with me; I have a room out back, but a saloon is no place for a youngster like you.”

  “I’m fine. Brock’s been more than generous. In fact, I was wondering if you could show me how to cook so I could help him out. I don’t want to be a burden.”

  Mac snorted. “A burden–hell he should be honored that you chose to stay there. Cooking is a fine art. Some people are gifted and others aren’t. I daresay that you’re not but I guess I could teach you a few things: the basics at least. Can’t mess them up.”

  She hugged him and he sighed, taking her over to the kitchen. Sabrina’s mind buzzed as he pointed out the items on the shelves: cornmeal, wheat flour, molasses, lard; seemed like a lot of ingredients. He then went on to tell her what part each played. He instructed her on the proper way to peel a potato, and she only cut one finger in the process. Her mind whirled as she listened. She tried to take it all in but he just kept adding more details as he cooked and it pushed out the other stuff she’d learned. So she had bits and pieces all jumbled up in her mind.

  Mac sighed at her confused expression. “Ya know, it’d be easier to just get hitched to a girl who can cook and you’ll be fine.”

  Sabrina forced out a small laugh. She heard Brock’s voice on the other side of the wall and her heart fluttered. Mac placed a heavy sack in her hands and nodded for her to get going. She thanked him before stepping back into the main saloon hall.

  It was getting dark outside. Sabrina didn’t realize she had been there so long. He was at the bar talking to Pamela, a barmaid. Sabrina knew the woman and normally liked her. However, right now, she just felt mean-spirited and she didn’t know why. Brock spotted her and smiled. Damn, he was beautiful. She warned herself to remain calm and not do or say anything stupid.

  “Ready?” she asked hopefully, as the woman waited for his answer as well.

  “Yup, let’s go home.” He put his hand on Will’s back to guide him through the growing throng of customers. He had tied Troy up outside and Sabrina was grateful to be out in the fresh air. The smoke from the stove and the cheap cigars had permeated her lungs and she breathed in deeply. It had never bothered her before; she guessed they were still healing from the night of the fire.

  “What’s in the bag?” he asked.

  “A surprise.” She paused, not sure if
she could hold onto the bag and to Brock at the same time.

  “You need some help?” he asked.

  “I have to keep it level.”

  Brock nodded. “Alright, you can ride in front and hold on to it. I don’t want my surprise getting ruined.”

  She was glad for the dim light; she knew her face was probably red from the attention. He held his hand out for the bag; she handed it to him and mounted. He handed the bag up to her as he mounted behind her. His gun barrel was digging into her side and she shifted her bottom.

  Brock grabbed her arm and leaned forward. “Sit still, would you?”

  Miffed, Sabrina retorted. “Sorry, your gun was poking into my rib cage.”

  “Sorry. Better now?” he asked, shifting the weapon even further back.

  “Much.”

  He reached around her, grasped Troy’s reins with both hands and nudged him into a trot. They arrived home way too soon. She was having fun, but she didn’t think that Brock enjoyed it as much. He kept trying to shift away from her for some reason. He headed for the outhouse as soon as they got back and she was left to dismount by herself with her package. She slid down as carefully as she could and placed her sack on a bale of hay as she took care of Troy. Brock had still not come back by the time she finished so she grabbed the bag and headed for the house.

  Brock was inside and he had his shirt off and looked grim. “What happened to your shirt?” She asked setting her bag on the table.

  “It got soiled.”

  “Oh, well I can wash it out for you tomorrow if you want me too.”

  “No!” Brock said abruptly and she jumped. “I’ll do it myself.”

  “Okay, I just thought I could help out is all. You do so much for me; I just want to do my part.” She was trying to look at his face instead of his bare chest but it was hard. Really, really hard not to stare at him. “Um, are you ready for your surprise?” she asked with excitement in her voice.

  Brock hesitated. “Sure.”

  “I made supper! Well, with Mac’s help,” she added, at his look of surprise.

  She took the bag and took a slightly lopsided apple pie off the top, then two steaks and some pan-fried potatoes that she’d sliced up and cooked in an iron skillet.

  Brock laughed. “Perfect. Thank you.”

  Sabrina blushed. “The pie was mostly straight when I made it.” She shrugged.

  “I have a surprise too,” Brock said.

  “Really? What?”

  “I’m going to see about getting you a horse. That way you don’t have to ride with me.”

  She frowned. “I don’t mind riding with you. I can’t afford a horse right now. At this rate, I’m going to be paying you back for the rest of my life.”

  “You don’t have to pay me back. I’ll buy me another horse and you can borrow it.”

  Sabrina had dished out the food onto plates and they began eating in silence. She was upset. “I told you I don’t take charity. I’ll get a job at the saloon if I need to. Or I’ll just walk to town–it ain’t that far.” She took a big bite of steak so she would not be able to talk while she chewed.

  “You don’t need to get a job at the saloon. There are lots of unsavory people there.”

  “Didn’t seem like you minded talking to Pamela,” she retorted without thinking. When she realized what she had said, she wanted to drop into a hole.

  Brock looked up in shock. Will didn’t like him talking to Pamela? If he didn’t know any better he’d guess it was jealousy, but that didn’t make any sense. Then it dawned on him. Maybe the boy had a crush on Pamela. How cute. They finished the rest of the meal in silence. Brock thanked her for the food and even cleaned up all the dishes.

  Sabrina reluctantly bade him goodnight and climbed up the ladder to sleep. She lay down on her cot wide-awake. She almost blew it tonight. Why did she have to say anything about him talking to Pamela? She was sure he talked to women and men all day long. The thought that Pamela slept with men for money irritated her…a lot. She didn’t want Brock sleeping with her. Maybe she should let him buy her a horse, and then he wouldn’t have any money left to buy a lady of the night. Grinning at her plan, she crawled to the edge of the loft and looked down. Brock was getting ready for the night. He had just undone his pants and let them slide down his firm thighs to the ground. The lantern was still lit, the soft light made the scene even more enthralling as shadows danced on the wall. There he was in all his glory. Sabrina held her breath. As if he could hear her heart pounding, he glanced up and met her eyes.

  They both reacted at once. Sabrina scampered back from the edge and Brock grabbed his long johns and hastily put them on. Hearing his footsteps on the ladder, she feigned sleep.

  “I know you’re not sleeping. Why are you spying on me?” Brock asked in a harsh voice.

  Sabrina sat up angrily. “I was not spying! I was going to tell you that I decided that you could get me a horse. I saw you were dressing and decided to wait until you were dressed before saying anything. I normally don’t hold conversations with naked men.” Then in an innocent voice: “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Brock sighed. “I’m sorry, I guess I overreacted. We can look around at some horses tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

  “Brock?” she called, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

  Brock froze thinking back to this morning and his quick getaway to the outhouse. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Good night, Will.”

  Sabrina closed her eyes tightly, feeling more alone than she had in a long time.

  Chapter 10

  Sabrina sat up the next morning to light flooding into the room. Bang! She hit her head hard on the slanted ceiling above her and was knocked back down. Her curses filled the room as her hand searched her head for signs of blood. Finding none, she backed her way down the ladder and tottered outside.

  She found Brock in the barn saddling Troy. She groaned; she never slept this late, but sleep was scarce last night. Every time she closed her eyes she envisioned Ted Roberts climbing up the ladder and watching her. It was kinda awkward seeing Brock after she’d seen him naked but he wasn’t acting any different. She knew she looked like a wreck but didn’t care. She’d kill for the chance to lie down for two more hours but knew that would not help her rest. Her mind was too busy with thoughts–none of them happy ones.

  Brock handed her a biscuit before pulling her up behind him for their ride to town. He noticed how disheveled Will was this morning and felt a bit guilty. He’d heard the boy tossing and turning most of the night. He hoped he could get a good deal on a horse so that they would not have to ride double anymore. He just could not understand his reaction to such a normal thing.

  Mr. Swanson was at the burned out barn when they came into town. Sabrina stopped Brock, telling him she wanted to see Mr. Swanson and would meet him later. He nodded and she slid down. The old man’s horse, Copper, was nearby and she went over to greet both of them. She liked the new saddle and told Swanson so. All of the saddles were burned beyond repair but she tried to push it out of her mind.

  A thunder of hooves behind her broke her out of her thoughts, and she cursed herself for not paying better attention. A man slid off his foaming horse and fell into a heap on the ground at their feet. His shirt was soaked with blood and clinging to his side. He was gasping for breath. “Train robbed about two miles back. Eight of ‘em, I think.”

  Mr. Swanson moved to help the man, shouting at Will to get the doctor and the sheriff. Sabrina took off at a dead run. Brock tended to change his morning routine frequently so no one could second guess his rounds. She figured she would go for the doctor first and then look for Brock. If she passed him on the way to the doctor’s office, that would be even better.

  Luck was not with Sabrina. The doctor was not in his office but she did find him in the saloon talking to Mac. She yelled out to him and he hurried off as she went to look for Brock. Not many peopl
e were in town at this time of the morning and Sabrina headed down the street to the mercantile. Glimpsing Brock through the window speaking to the store clerk, she burst into the shop and gasped out breathlessly. “Train was robbed two miles east of here. A man rode in wounded–said he saw eight outlaws.”

  “Stay with Jack,” he ordered as he hurried out.

  Brock was in complete control as he ran, first to his office for his shotgun, and then for his horse. Weary Sabrina headed back to the stables as well. Her still-healing lungs burned from the exertion. She passed the doctor’s office where all the people in town at the moment had gathered. They were drawn by the screams of agony from the man as the Doc tried to remove the bullet. Thinking Brock might need help going after the outlaws, she sent them to the corral to meet up with him as she stopped to catch her breath.

  Coming full circle at last she saw Brock was surrounded by the townsfolk who had gathered. He stood out easily, standing taller than the rest as he spoke in a clear confident voice. She pushed her way to the front of the crowd where Brock was asking for volunteers. Three men volunteered to go with him.

  “I’ll go!” Sabrina spoke up, her back stiffening at the laughter around her. Brock swung his head around to look at her with a condescending smirk on his face. He took a step forward and patted her shoulder. “Maybe in a couple of years.”

  Sabrina stretched herself up to her full height and barely reached his shoulder. “I’m pretty good at counting and four against eight ain’t good odds. I’m a good shot. You need me.”

  “Stay here,” Brock said sternly, turning away. Sabrina nearly ripped her hair out in frustration. Men were so damn pigheaded! Fine, she would stay, until they left. As she nodded and headed back toward the saloon, her mind was already forming a plan.