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by Molly Ann Wishlade


  But this was not the time.

  Stella Rose was in pain and he would do all that he could to help her. If he’d done what he was supposed to in the first place, then his younger sister would never have ended up with child and she wouldn’t be suffering right now.

  “Could you put some water on to heat and get me whatever spare cloths or rags you have?” Ellen took charge and he was glad of it. This was a female arena and it terrified and confused him.

  “Sure.” Clayton nodded. “Let me just introduce you.”

  “It’s okay.” Ellen shook her head. “I’ll get to know her pretty well over the next few hours. You just make yourself useful and I’ll do what I can for your wife.”

  “She’s not my wife.” Clayton moved towards her. His heart hammered against his ribs.

  Ellen put up a hand and he saw the warning in her eyes. “It’s none of my business. You owe me no explanations. I’m just here to help.”

  With that, she turned and went through into the bedroom. Clayton stared at the open doorway. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words to explain the situation. She thought that Stella Rose was his woman. That even though they were not wed, he’d gotten her pregnant and now felt guilty about it. He did feel guilty but not for the reasons she’d assumed. But why would she think any differently? He’d brought her up here in the dead of night in a terrible storm. He’d told her how young and small Stella Rose was. He’d done nothing to make her think that Stella was, in fact, his sister.

  His heart plummeted into his boots. He’d seen something in Ellen that made his spirits lift, that heated his blood and made him think of cosy evenings in front of a fire and the meeting of warm flesh beneath line-aired sheets. And it had been so long since he’d felt even a flicker of desire. She made him almost able to picture a future where there could be hope and laughter. Warmth and love.

  But it was ridiculous! He had no right to allow his imagination to wander. Ellen was a whore and he was a man with little to offer except for a small log cabin and the shirt on his back. He had his youth, his strength and the ability to work real hard…but women wanted and needed a home and security, evidence that a man could provide.

  Given the chance, he would strive to provide for a woman like Ellen. For Ellen. But she was leaving Deadwood. She seemed set on her decision. And he had far too much guilt dragging around behind him like a heavy ball and chain to ever think about building a new life for himself. He had no right.

  Moaning from the bedroom and the murmur of hushed voices ripped him from his thoughts and spurred him into action. He moved quickly about the room, filling a pot with water then tearing up an old petticoat.

  Ellen Finch had come to help his sister. Nothing more…nothing less. He had no right wanting or even thinking about getting anything else from her during her time at his cabin. He had no right at all.

  So why couldn’t he get her sweet face or the thought of her soft, warm curves being wrapped around his body out of his head?

  ****

  Ellen moved into the gloom of the bedroom. As her eyes adjusted to the candlelight, she could make out a pine double bed in front of a curtained window, a dresser with a pewter water bowl and jug and a small square of looking-glass. On a hook to the left of the door hung a dress and shawl.

  A movement from the bed caught Ellen’s attention.

  “Hey there, Stella Rose.”

  She approached the bed.

  “How’re you doin’, little lady?”

  “It hurts…so much.”

  “I know, sweetheart, I know.”

  Ellen helped the young woman to sit against the headboard then she perched upon the straw-stuffed ticking that served as a mattress.

  “How long have you been having pains?”

  Stella Rose pushed her matted brown hair out of her eyes.

  “It feels like forever…but…I don’t know…since around eight last evening. They weren’t too bad to start with but now…ahhhh!”

  Ellen took Stella’s hands and counted her through the contraction.

  “Are they coming often?”

  “Closer together…alla the time.”

  “Okay. It doesn’t feel good, I know, but it means you’re getting closer to the end. Now, Stella, you’re gonna need to stay brave a while longer. I’ll help you through this, I promise.” Ellen kept her voice low, her tone calm. But her heart sank as she looked at the petite young woman in front of her. She looked no more than seventeen and she was extremely thin. She was clearly either malnourished or just small-boned and the latter meant that she was in for a rough ride.

  “Who are you?” Stella licked her pain-tightened lips.

  “My name’s Ellen. I’m in charge of the girls at…at the Gem theatre. I’ve experience in these matters. You’ll be safe with me.” Ellen hoped that she sounded confident.

  “Than…kyooo….” Stella hunched forwards as her small body was wracked by another spasm.

  “They sure are close now. You’ve done so well to get this far.” Ellen stood and took a deep breath. “It won’t be long. Try to remember that every pain takes you one step closer to holding your babe in your arms. I’ll just get some water then I’ll need to examine you…see if you’re ready in your…lady parts. Is that okay?”

  “You can do what you like if you just help me to get this baby out.” Stella offered a smile but Ellen noted that it didn’t reach her dark eyes.

  She busied herself pouring water into the bowl on the dresser then looked around for a cloth. Nothing. Where was Clayton?

  As if he’d heard her thoughts, he arrived at her side. Ellen took the torn petticoat he offered then glanced at him. His eyes were chocolate pools. His lips were slightly parted, as if he were excited or out of breath. Her stomach flipped. Just being near him made her feel so strange. As if she were young and innocent again and about to be kissed for the first time.

  Moaning from the bed dragged her gaze from his handsome face.

  Something flickered inside her and anger bubbled from within.

  “You’d better make yourself useful!” she snapped at Clayton.

  His eyes widened.

  “You know that you should be ashamed of yourself…” Ellen bit her cheek but she was used to speaking her mind and it was a struggle to hold her thoughts back. “You…you…”

  “What is it, Miss Ellen?” Clayton brushed her arm with his fingertips.

  Ellen gestured at the doorway and he walked through it. She followed.

  “You should not have allowed this young woman to get with child. She is just…too small.” Ellen scowled at him. “This could kill her! Do you realise that?”

  Clayton hung his head.

  “I do…I know…I failed her.”

  “Failed her?” Ellen questioned, confusion flooding though her. “You did more than failed her. Here you are…admitting that you’re…” She stamped her foot. “You’re not even wed. I think that failed is an understatement don’t you?”

  Clayton shook his head and laughed softly.

  Ellen fought to stop trembling. She was used to men being idiots. She was accustomed to their selfishness and their cock-driven whims but this…this was unforgiveable. This man had clearly used his good looks, his strong muscular frame and warm brown eyes, to seduce the young woman who was now about to be ripped apart as she delivered his babe.

  “Why on earth are you laughing?” Ellen wanted to run at him and pummel his broad chest with her fists. Fury consumed her and she was amazed by its strength. Why was she so concerned about what he did or had done?

  “It’s not funny what’s happened to Stella Rose.” He stared at her. “In fact…I’m mad as a hornet about it. And yes…she ain’t ready for motherhood. I’m sick as a dog about that fact that I failed her. I should have protected her from the varmint that got her into this state.”

  Ellen dug her fingernails into her palms.

  “You mean…you didn’t…she’s not…”

  “No, Miss Ellen.
See…Stella Rose is my sister.”

  Heat moved through Ellen’s body like warm mulled cider. The relief she felt at his words was bewildering. Why did she care that it wasn’t his child, that, in fact, Stella Rose was his sister?

  He wasn’t with her. He was, it seemed, actually single.

  “I…I see.” Ellen licked her lips.

  “But she fell for a man back in Chicago. He was a childhood friend. We thought we knew him. Thought he was decent. Til he hurt her…” Clayton’s eyes filled with pain and Ellen moved towards him. She reached out as if to touch his face but stopped herself and let her hand fall back to her side.

  “He just used her then disappeared. Stella Rose was broken-hearted. When she confessed to me that she thought she was with child…I thought a fresh start might be in order. Our folks were gone and we had nothing left to hang around for. So we came here. I was figuring that we can tell folks a story of sorts. Make them believe that she’s widowed.”

  “But she’s so young.” Ellen glanced at the doorway.

  “It happens.” Clayton shrugged.

  “It does.” Ellen nodded. Well aware that being young was no guarantee against life’s hardships, whether that meant losing your spouse, your child or even your own life.

  “Will you still help us?” Clayton appealed.

  “What?” Ellen frowned.

  “Well…now that you know the truth about Stella’s story. You’re not…put off?”

  Ellen smiled. “Of course I’ll help you.” She placed her hands on her hips. “You do know what I do…I mean…what I did for a living?”

  Clayton gazed at her and her face flooded with heat. Again. She was suddenly prone to blushing and it seemed that Clayton Kile was responsible. His eyes were so intense that she felt like he could see right into her mind, even into her soul. Her blackened soul, if you believed the preacher. But even so, she didn’t feel soiled when Clayton gazed at her. She felt fresh, renewed, whole. Like she’d stripped naked in a spring shower and been cleansed from top to toe.

  “What does that have to do with it?” he asked.

  “Well, I’m not one to judge others,” Ellen explained. “Unless I think that a man’s been unfair on a young woman…you know, taken advantage. That’s the one thing I can’t abide.”

  Clayton’s face lit up with a grin that brought Ellen a wave of pleasure. It coursed from the roots of her hair down through her stomach and tickled like knowing fingers between her silken folds.

  “Well, I’m mighty grateful. Now…” He nodded at the bedroom. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll obey!”

  Ellen turned and walked back into the bedroom, nursing a secret smile that had appeared deep within. Clayton Kile was still quite new to Deadwood. He wasn’t wed. He cared enough about his younger sister to take her miles away from their home town in order to protect her reputation. He was incredibly good-looking, so good-looking that parts of Ellen that she’d believed shut down, were beginning to awaken like spring bulbs.

  And he appeared to be a gentleman.

  She shook her head.

  Appearances could be deceptive. She knew that from experience. Hell, some of the men she’d lain with at the Gem had seemed all fine and dandy until it came down to spending an hour alone with her. That was usually when their deepest darkest desires surfaced. Human beings were complex creatures. The face they showed to the world wasn’t always their true one.

  Clayton might seem to be a good one. He might walk and talk like a well-mannered cowboy. But who knew what lurked beneath that handsome exterior?

  Ellen would help Stella Rose through her labour. Though she’d planned to leave Deadwood the next day, she’d hang around a little longer if necessary. But then…then she’d be on her way. She had no need of a man. She had no need of love. And she had no desire – not really – to find out if Clayton Kile was as good on the inside as he looked on the outside.

  Chapter Three

  “That’s it, Stella. Good girl!” Ellen encouraged the younger woman as she pushed her child into the world.

  Clayton hovered like a dragonfly at the doorway. He had warmed Ellen’s heart over the course of what remained of the night, with his concern for his sister, his eagerness to do whatever Ellen asked of him and his gentle easy manner. For such a big, strong man, he was gentle and caring. If she wasn’t so cynical from all her years as a harlot, Ellen would have believed that she could fall for a man like Clayton.

  “Right, Stella.” Ellen looked up at the girl. “I can see the head. When you feel another pain coming on…you just push til I tell you to stop. Got it?”

  Stella nodded. She was white as freshly fallen snow and her eyes held the look of a wild animal but she had listened to Ellen’s instructions and advice without complaint. She was a sweet little thing and it was easy to see how a man could have taken advantage of her. A flicker of anger pulsed through her as she thought of the man who’d gotten Stella with child. What she would like to say to him if she ever got the chance. You just didn’t take an innocent girl and use her for your own pleasure. That’s what the whore houses were for, dammit!

  “It’s coming…” Stella gasped.

  “Well, get pushing!” Ellen knelt between Stella’s legs and watched as she used the last of her energy to expel the child from her body.

  “Slowly, honey…that’s it…breathe…”

  The baby’s head cleared and the rest of its bloody little body slithered out into Ellen’s waiting hands.

  Stella collapsed onto the bed.

  Ellen wiped a rag over the infant’s mouth and nose then rubbed its slimy body vigorously.

  “Is it okay?” Clayton had appeared at her shoulder.

  “I’m not sure,” Ellen whispered. “Come on, little one…come on.”

  A sudden cry from the child brought tears of relief to Ellen’s eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Clayton handed her a clean square of cloth.

  When she’d swaddled the baby tightly, she lifted it and moved towards Stella.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” She nudged the younger woman. “Here’s the result of all that hard work.”

  Stella Rose looked into Ellen’s eyes. “What is it?”

  Ellen laughed. In the midst of the panic she had forgotten to tell her.

  “You have a beautiful baby girl, Stella.”

  “A girl?” Stella’s eyes lit up with delight.

  “What will you call her?” Ellen asked as she gently cleaned Stella’s lower body then tucked the blanket around her.

  Stella smiled as she took the babe to her breast where it began to suckle instinctively. “Ellen.”

  Ellen jolted with surprise and blinked at the tears that sprang into her eyes. The sweet girl had named the baby for her. She made a silent wish that her little namesake would have a life more blessed than her own. A life without pain, loss and degradation. A life filled with hope and love.

  Clayton wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she turned gratefully, glad to be distracted from such painful musings. He took her to the basin where he helped her to cleanse the blood from her hands. Then he led her from the room.

  She leant against his warm hard body, feeling his muscles ripple as they moved. Her heart soared with joy that mother and child were safe – for now – and that she had not been forced to deal with the loss of either one.

  Clayton pushed the door behind them then led her to a fireside chair in the cosy living area. Ellen watched the muscular curve of his thighs and his rounded behind as he knelt before the grate and stoked the embers.

  “Thank you so much, Miss Ellen. We’re mighty grateful. I’d not have known what to do…she might have…” He rubbed his big hands over his face and they grated against his stubble.

  Ellen reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You are very welcome. I’m just glad I could help. I’ll be honest…with her being so small and all…I did worry that we’d lose her or the babe but luck was on our side.”

  Clayton turned so th
at her hand moved around to his throat.

  His eyes were full of emotion. They shone in the firelight and Ellen wanted to tumble into them. She raised her hand to caress the side of his face. She couldn’t help it. She was drawn to him.

  He was breathtakingly handsome. She longed to hold him close.

  He turned his head and pressed his lips to the palm of her hand.

  The gesture was so simple, so soft, yet it ignited something deep within Ellen. Something she had long since believed buried.

  Clayton moved towards her. He placed his hands on her knees and Ellen’s stomach somersaulted.

  Should she allow this? She hadn’t lain with a man in such a long while and the last time she had…well…it had been like the majority of times before. A physical act performed to earn her bed and board. She’d been humped like an animal. Not loved and seduced like a hot-blooded woman.

  What would it be like to give in to Clayton Kile? Would he seduce her? Rekindle her own passion that she’d long since hidden in a secret compartment of her heart?

  When he took her hands in his and raised them to his mouth, Ellen moaned. He kissed her knuckles, her palms and then her fingertips. He was in no rush to bury himself inside her as quickly as the men who paid for company at the Gem. Most of them didn’t even bother to remove their boots, they just ripped off her bloomers, freed their cocks and pumped her until they exploded. It was vile, humiliating and she had despised it.

  But this…Ellen allowed herself to relax. This was no heartless flop. This was a man and a woman, exhilarated by the night’s joyful events. Ellen knew that she was emotional following the birth of Stella’s child. She also knew that she still fully intended leaving Deadwood as soon as she could. So it wouldn’t hurt to surrender to this man here and now. She was attracted to him and though surprised at her desire for him, she was also pleased by it. She wasn’t as numb or cold as she had made herself believe.

 

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