The Tracker

by Mary Burton

  Ellie dropped a stitch. Cursing her clumsiness, she recaptured the yarn on the needle. She finished the row but found tracking the stitches a struggle.

  She glanced at Nick. He wasn’t reading. He was staring at her. Unrepentant, he lowered his gaze back to the pages.

  Quickly she returned her focus to her knitting. Her heart pounded in her chest. She dropped another stitch and recovered it only to let it slip again.

  She peeked at Nick again. She realized then that he’d not turned any pages. Neither of them could concentrate.

  Struggling to fill the silence that only stoked her restlessness, she said, “Do you read every night?”

  Nick’s blue eyes looked into hers. “Just about.”

  His attention made her mouth feel as dry as the desert. “What do you read?”

  “See for yourself.” He closed the book and handed it to her.

  She set her knitting down and accepted the book. His fingers brushed hers. Her pulse tripped.

  The book’s binding was smooth and fine. She thumbed through the pages, trying to hide the quake in her fingers. The letters were very, very small. “What’s it about?”

  “A famous general.”

  She closed the book and handed it back to him. Their fingers touched again and a frizzle of energy shot up her arm. Her cheeks burned. “It’s a fine-looking book, just like the other one.”

  He cocked an eyebrow.

  She shrugged. “Remember, I went through your saddlebag when you were unconscious.”

  “Ah, I forgot.”

  He didn’t seem angry, so she continued. “The other one is written in a different language.”

  “That book is written in Latin.”

  She started to knit a new row. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a dead language, spoken by people who lived long ago.”

  She shook her head as she knitted a few more stitches. “Why would anyone care about a language no one speaks anymore?”

  “The ancient teachers had much to offer.”

  Ellie stared at him as if he’d grown a third eye. “You’re a puzzle to me, Nick Baron. You look meaner than any outlaw I’ve ever seen and yet you read better than the smartest teacher in Butte.” The question that had plagued her since the moment she’d found the photo welled inside her. “Is it because Crystal and your baby died?”

  A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. “Always direct.”

  “Best way to be if you want folks to know what you’re after.”

  For a moment he was silent and she thought perhaps he’d forgotten her question. Then he seemed to come to a decision. “I had trouble with the law back East.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  He lifted his chin. “It wasn’t all my fault.”

  She met his gaze. “It never is.”

  To her surprise, he laughed. “Touché.”

  “What happened?”

  His smile faded, replaced by a look of acceptance and resolve. “I nearly beat my older brother Gregory to death. I was charged with attempted murder.” His voice was edged in steel.

  “Why?” she said, her voice as soft as a prayer.

  He set his book down on the small side table by his rocker. “We competed constantly when we were growing up. Gregory’s mother was my father’s first wife. When she died and Father remarried my mother, Gregory never felt as if he belonged and he resented me and the attention my father gave me.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, I was just as competitive as he was. In my younger days, I had a need to best him in everything. When he joined the army, I had to do the same. The rivalry between us grew ugly when I started to rise through the ranks faster than he did. Gregory started drinking and his drunkenness ended up getting him court-martialed. He returned home bitter and angry. His drinking didn’t improve and then our father changed his will. He left the lion’s share of the family lands to me and our sister Julia instead of Gregory. It wasn’t personal. Father knew Gregory would never be happy managing the lands, whereas I would gladly return after my military service ended.”

  He tapped his long finger on the armrest of the rocker. “Soon after Father’s announcement, I was stationed in Kansas. The territory was dangerous and the Indian wars at their height. Crystal stayed behind in Virginia.” His eyes darkened. “While I was gone, Gregory seduced my wife. She became pregnant. I returned home almost a year to the day from when I’d left. She’d died the day before, giving birth.”

  “How did you know it was Gregory?”

  “I found Crystal’s diary. She confessed the affair and her plans to send the child away before I returned. I got blinding drunk and went after him.”

  “You sound so calm when you talk about this.”

  A raw intensity radiated from his body. “Don’t be fooled. There was a time when the anger burned so fierce it nearly consumed me. I’d have gladly killed Gregory if my sister Julia hadn’t stumbled upon us and begged me to see reason.”

  “You said you had trouble with the law.”

  “Gregory recovered and pressed charges. He’d have seen me rot in jail if my father hadn’t interceded. The charges were dropped on the condition I never return to Virginia. In the end Gregory got what he wanted—his inheritance.”

  “And so you came West?”

  “I was a soldier and good at hunting men. When I arrived in Denver, there was a reward posted for a man wanted for stealing. I tracked him down and brought him in to the authorities. I collected the reward. It seemed a good way to make money, so I followed the trail of another wanted man. He led me to Montana. Ever since, there’s always been someone new to track.”

  “Sounds like you’ve led an interesting life. You’ve seen so many places. All I’ve ever seen is Butte and the Spring Rock station.”

  “I am not that interesting. In fact, I am a bit of a cliché.”

  “Cliché? What’s that?”

  “A story everyone has heard a thousand times. The solider cuckolded by his wife.”

  “You’re not the first man and you won’t be the last.”

  “It will never happen to me again. I will never let a woman twist me around her finger like Crystal did.”

  A long silence stretched between them. “Why did you tell me all this?” she said.

  “I don’t want there to be any secrets or surprises between us when we make love.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it closed, amazed at his arrogance. “How do you know we even are?”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not the least bit interested in you.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

  “This is insane.” She rose, feeling suddenly warm. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Want company?”

  “No!” She ran to her room and closed the door. But instead of going to bed, she pressed her ear against the door, listening for any signs that he had followed her.

  His purposeful footsteps crossed the main room. They paused in front of her door and then, after a long moment, started up the stairs toward the second-floor room he’d claimed.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. To her amazement, she realized she was disappointed he hadn’t knocked on her door.

  ELLIE SHOULD HAVE BEEN exhausted when she climbed into her own bed that night. But she wasn’t. Worries about Nick twisted inside her. The ceiling above her head creaked with his footsteps as he paced. He couldn’t sleep, either.

  She rolled onto her back and stared up at the plank ceiling. It struck her then that she wanted Nick with a power so fierce it rattled her like a bucking bronco.

  Ellie had never been with a man before, but she wasn’t a prissy miss, either. She knew what a man and woman did in bed. And she knew it wasn’t always about business for the women. She’d heard the girls giggling and whispering about what they’d done.

  She’d never felt any desire for a man before. And she’d come to believe she was
immune to such feelings—which had always been just fine. She didn’t want to be like her mother and the other women at the Silver Slipper.

  But this desire for Nick was singing in her veins. It was changing her—making her want things she’d never wanted before. The change frightened her.

  Ellie rolled onto her side and stared at the patches of her quilt. She considered counting each of the tiny stitches that surrounded each square. She sighed. It would be hours before sleep came. She rolled onto her back.

  A crash outside had her sitting up in bed. Suddenly her heart was pounding in her chest. She tossed back the covers and sprang out of bed.

  Nick’s footsteps pounded down the stairs as she lit a lantern and hurried into the center of the cabin.

  Nick had strapped on his holster and was checking the bullets in the chamber of his gun.

  “Do you think it’s Frank?”

  Lantern light glowed on the hard edges of his face. “I don’t know. Kill that light.”

  Ellie blew out the flame. The darkness surrounded them. “I wasn’t expecting him this soon.”

  “I was.”

  He strode across the cabin as if it were the middle of the day. He pushed back the red-checked curtain with the tip of his pistol, allowing moonlight to shine inside the cabin.

  Ellie stepped forward. Her hip bumped into the corner of the kitchen table. She winced and set her lantern down on the table. “Can you see anything?”

  “No.”

  “Should I get my gun?” she said.

  “No!”

  Nerves had her chattering. “I would think Frank wouldn’t make so much noise. Are you sure it’s not an animal?”

  He sighed. “All I can hear right now is you talking.”

  “Sorry.”

  Nick stared out the window. Time dragged. Finally he stood and took the latch off the front door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To greet our visitor.” He opened the door.

  Shadows flitted across the front porch. A chill hovered in the air and a ring of mist circled the full moon.

  Another crash to their right had Nick turning with lightning speed. He took a step outside and Ellie trailed behind, hovering close to him.

  They peeked around to the side porch. Moonlight shone on a bear cub sitting in the bathtub on the front porch. The animal lay on its back, its overlarge paws thrust in the air. When it saw Nick, it scrambled out of the tub and ran off into the dark.

  Nick straightened his shoulders, obviously relieved. He guided Ellie back inside. When the door was closed and latched, he holstered his gun. “Cubs can get into all kinds of mischief.”

  Ellie moved beside Nick and peered out the side window. Her nerves still hummed from the bear’s unexpected arrival. “Annie said they are cute but dangerous. She said they can travel in pairs.”

  “With their mothers close by.”

  His warm breath brushed her skin. She couldn’t move.

  “Very fierce, no doubt,” she said, exhaling, her voice traveling with her breath. Strength radiated from Nick’s body. Ellie found it intoxicating to stand this close to him.

  The excitement was over. They could have returned to their beds. But neither moved.

  Her nipples hardened and pushed against the coarse fabric of her nightgown. She moistened her dry lips with her tongue. His scent enveloped her.

  Drawn by an unseen force, Ellie looked up at him. He was staring down at her, his chiseled face barely visible in the moonlight. His lips looked full, inviting.

  A small scar ran down the right side of his chin. Guided by unfulfilled desires, she traced the mark with the tip of her finger. His unshaven jaw scraped her skin. This simple touch thrilled her more than she could have imagined.

  He tensed but didn’t move away from her.

  Her heart slammed against her chest. “How did you get that scar?”

  “I was a young boy,” his said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I snuck into my father’s study to see his new dagger. I’d removed it from its sheath and was studying the tip when my father walked into the study. I jumped and cut myself.”

  She resisted the urge to touch his lips. “Was he angry?”

  He captured her hand in his strong fingers. “Not when he saw all the blood gushing from the wound.”

  She edged a half step closer to him. “You carry a fine dagger in your saddlebag.”

  “It’s the same one.”

  “Did you get into a lot of trouble when you were a boy?”

  A small smile lifted the edges of his mouth. “No more than my share.”

  Her gaze settled on his lips. She wondered if he kissed her, whether the kiss would be chaste or demanding. She suspected the latter—Nick Baron wasn’t a man who did anything halfway.

  She didn’t have to wait long for her answer.

  As if he’d read her mind, he leaned his head forward and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment she stood very still, stunned by his touch. So gentle.

  The tender kiss might have satisfied her curiosity, but it also stoked new, hotter fires inside her. She rose up on tiptoe and deepened the kiss.

  Nick reacted immediately. He banded his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. His hard chest pressed against her breasts. The stubble of his beard rubbed her chin. Every nerve in her body danced with a newfound vigor.

  Their bodies molded together as if they’d been made for each other. Kissing him felt so good. Her body sang. Her head swam. She wanted more of him.

  Ellie fisted handfuls of his shirt between her fingers. A soft mew escaped her throat. Even to her own ears, she sounded desperate and hungry.

  Nick coaxed her lips open. His tongue explored her mouth, sending more waves of pleasure through her body. Heat burned at her core.

  A savage noise rumbled in his chest. He broke the kiss. “I want you.”

  His voice was rougher than the jagged mountain peaks. Ellie couldn’t speak.

  This was all so wonderful.

  And it felt very, very good.

  The urge to surrender herself to him had her ready to say yes.

  Then Nick whispered the things he wanted to do to her when he got her into bed. The raw language cut through the haze of desire. Shock radiated through her limbs. Her mind cleared. He’d spoken to her as though she was a whore. She felt dirty.

  She pulled out of his arms. Her hands trembled as she pushed a mop of curls off her face.

  Nick Baron stared down at her, his hooded eyes filled with dark desire. “What’s wrong?”

  “The way you spoke to me—I didn’t like it.” She sounded like a prissy schoolgirl.

  He looked surprised. “I thought you’d like what I said.”

  The fire in her was gone. “I didn’t.”

  He reached out to her as if desperate to return to what they’d had. “Then I won’t say those things again. I promise to make it good for you.”

  He captured the thin folds of her sleeve in his fingertips. She pulled back. “No.”

  He released the fabric. “There is something between us, Ellie. I feel it and so do you. Why are you fighting it? There is no reason why we can’t enjoy each other.”

  In all the years she’d lived in the brothel she’d protected the innocence inside her. She’d guarded it, believing the right man would cherish her. It shook her to her core to realize she’d nearly tossed away what she’d saved for so long. Adeline had always said some handsome man with smooth moves would steal away her purity and then, before she knew it, she’d be selling herself. She’d denied it and yet here she was.

  A moment passed before she could speak in a calm voice. “I’m sure it would be real nice, but you’re not offering what I really want.”

  “What do you want?” His voice was ragged with desire.

  She felt foolish now. “Marriage.”

  He looked shocked.

  She shrugged. “And with marriage, I want a home.”

  He stepped back as if she’d tried to burn him. He ru
bbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “I can’t give you that. After Crystal, I swore I’d never marry again.”

  She lifted her chin. “Somehow I’d expected that answer.” She kept her voice even, but her insides felt twisted and bruised.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No need. Fact, it’s good we both know where we stand now.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  ELLIE TOSSED and turned most of the night, dreaming of Nick. She fed the baby around two but despite her exhaustion she couldn’t fall back to sleep. An hour before dawn, she could stand it no more. Her sheets were twisted, her body ached and her eyes were puffy with fatigue. She climbed out of her bed, anxious for chores that would take her mind off Nick.

  When Nick came downstairs an hour later, she had biscuits, fried ham and eggs on the table.

  Nick grabbed a couple of biscuits and a cup of coffee. “I’ve got stalls to clean.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t protest or encourage him to eat. She needed distance from him.

  Ellie moved to the window and watched him stride toward the barn. He walked with the confidence of a man comfortable in his abilities. He was a man who knew what he did and did not want.

  And he didn’t want marriage.

  She sighed. There was no fretting over what just wasn’t going to be.

  Ellie did her best not to think about Nick. She cleaned the ashes from the stove, she dragged the kitchen rug outside and beat the dust from it, and she cared for Rose. Yet no matter how busy she was, her mind kept drifting back to him, to the look of raw passion burning in his eyes when he’d looked at her last night.

  She also thought a lot about the things he’d whispered in her ear—the things he’d like to do to her—and she found she wasn’t as shocked or repulsed as time passed. In fact, thinking about what he’d said sounded kind of fun.

  Lord help her. And take Nick Baron out of her life before her resolve melted and she gave herself to him.

  Ellie was churning butter on the porch when Nick strode out of the barn. His shirt was stained with sweat. Her heart jumped at the sight of him.

  “There’s cool water on the kitchen table,” she said. “I reckon you’re thirsty.”

  “Thanks.” He disappeared into the house and returned moments later with a mug for himself and one for her. He handed her the glass.