The Drifter

by Lisa Plumley

  He’d become a man who understood his own capacity for commitment.

  Too bad he’d hidden his newfound talents so damned well, Graham thought as he continued down Landslide’s hilly, twisted Main Street. He’d covered them so thoroughly that Julia had never found them. She’d believed he wanted freedom more than he wanted her.

  I release you from our bargain. You are free.

  Damnable, unwanted freedom.

  Scowling, Graham surveyed the town surrounding him, noting the new house construction to his right and the Little Lola’s tall timber headframes at the copper mine in the distance. This was as good a place as any to make his future, he decided. No matter what revelations he’d had, Graham Corley was not a man who crawled back to a woman and asked for second chances.

  Julia had let him go. She hadn’t wanted him enough to confront him, face-to-face, and figure out where they stood. Given that, he had no reason not to stay where he was.

  Besides, ’twas still possible he’d misread her motives. ’Twas beyond likely that Graham had wished for another excuse for her letter ending their engagement, aside from not wanting him, and so had concocted this namby-pamby reasoning—about her misunderstanding his hidden, newfound abilities to stay put—in order to save face.

  In order to save his soul.

  No. Until he heard Julia Bennett tell him she wanted him, from beneath one of her outrageous hats and preferably in front of dozens of witnesses, he would stay away, Graham vowed. There was nothing more a reasoning man could do.

  With that decided, Graham switched directions and fixed his gaze on the towering spire of the Little Lola mine. He headed for Matt Chance’s office, his future decided. Like it or not, he’d already become a staying kind of man. If he couldn’t have Julia, then he’d stay wherever he was, and make the most of it.

  On a bluff far outside Avalanche, Julia reined in her horse and gazed into the distance. Somewhere out there, Graham waited for her. Or didn’t wait for her, if she’d damaged their love beyond repair. Either way, she had to keep looking until she found him.

  She tightened her grasp on the reigns and straightened her spine determinedly. No matter what it took, she would correct the mistake she’d made. Julia had sworn it. Her vow was as good as the four-inch pile of money still secured in her saddlebags, awaiting return to its rightful owner.

  The sound of approaching hoofbeats snagged her attention. Looking behind her, Julia spied Isabel, Abbie Farmer, Aunt Geneva, Katie O’Halloran and a half-dozen other women from town, all riding toward her. In their wake rode another half-dozen men, husbands and fathers who’d accompanied their group.

  Dust rose, glittering in the strong territorial sunlight, as everyone reined to a stop. Chattering voices surrounded Julia.

  “Has there been any word?” Julia asked, loudly, to be heard above the din. Everyone quieted, including those who had recently rendezvoused after fanning out to search for word of the bounty hunter. “Any sign of Mr. Corley?”

  Several people looked at each other, then away. The horses shifted restlessly.

  Julia took their silence to mean that no one had information about Graham’s whereabouts. Again. She lowered her head, feeling despair rise within her. When she’d first struck upon this plan, she’d been encouraged. She’d hoped everything would soon be settled, given the circumstances.

  Given the fact that Julia had been able to raise a full-up posse, to help her trail her love.

  Considering it now, it seemed no less unreal today than it had five days ago. She’d left her papa’s house on a wave of decision, determined to somehow locate Graham and confess her love for him.

  First, she’d been compelled to call on everyone invited to the wedding, and inform them, quickly, that it had been delayed. Foolishly, Julia hadn’t been able to bring herself to say the words, “the wedding is cancelled.” Instead, she’d optimistically substituted the hopeful phrase, “the wedding is temporarily postponed,” and had left it at that. She hoped, at this moment, that she wouldn’t be forced to recall her own buoyant prediction.

  To her amazement, everyone she’d visited on that day had come to her aid. It seemed that, while making certain Graham was welcomed in Avalanche, she’d made herself welcome, as well! One by one, friends and neighbors had stepped forward to help Julia find her runaway groom, and further—they’d voluntarily formed a posse to accomplish it. That posse milled around her now, apparently unwilling to deliver whatever news they’d discovered.

  “No word, then?” she asked.

  Everyone looked toward Isabel. As Julia’s closest friend, she was likeliest to be chosen to deliver the bad news. With a sigh, she nudged her mount forward. She stopped beside Julia, and looked down as she patted the black gelding’s neck.

  “Yes, there’s word,” Isabel said quietly.

  “All this searching wouldn’t have been necessary,” interrupted Katie O’Halloran before Julia could speak, “if the men had only informed us the bounty hunter was leaving town! We could have stopped him afore he did. But no. They had to keep it a secret, at that livery stable of theirs, and—”

  “Hush, Katie!” her husband said in his thick brogue. “That’s all been settled.”

  To judge by the renewed chattering of the women—and the grumblings of the men—it hadn’t. The ladies of Avalanche remained convinced all of this could have been settled much more quickly, had the menfolk confided in them. At the moment, they were angling for a Spring ball to take their minds from the issue, but the men hadn’t quite agreed. Yet.

  Amid the swirl of conversation, Isabel looked at Julia. “We’ve had word that Mr. Corley has taken a freight wagon robber to Landslide, some five miles distant from this spot. Two days ago, he—”

  “Five miles from here? What are we waiting for?” Julia interrupted. “Let’s go!” Encouraged, she lifted the reins to set her horse in motion toward Landslide.

  Isabel stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Have you considered…well, that he may not want to see you?” she asked reluctantly. “After all, you did refuse to marry him, Julia. Are you sure about this?”

  That explained her posse’s initial reluctance to disclose their findings, Julia realized. They’d all been trying to protect her—the former misfit of Avalanche—from disappointment.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Julia said. And then she spurred her horse and headed down the bluff.

  Settling down in one place was pure hell, Graham decided on the sixth day of his newfound commitment to staying in Landslide. No matter that the town held the same things of any other—people, buildings, businesses and houses. It lacked one crucial element. Julia. And Graham was having a devil of a time doing without her.

  Frowning, he lowered his hat and took a seat on a boulder that jutted to the side of the Landslide mercantile. He set the bottle of whiskey he’d been carrying at the boulder’s base, making a face at it as he did. Drinking at his nightly poker games had seemed a good solution to his constant ache for Julia, but so far his attempts had gained him nothing more than fuzzy mornings and a series of headaches. ’Twas past time to put the bottle aside.

  Scrubbing his hands over his face, Graham contemplated his next move. He could wire Baltimore for the cash to buy some property outside Landslide, get started on a house, begin the work he and Matt Chance had discussed. He could take advantage of his unwanted freedom and visit the brothel, the dance hall, or the saloon. He could…he could swear he’d just glimpsed a flurry of yellow, off to the right behind the millinery.

  Julia, he thought instantly. She’s come.

  But that was daft. Landslide was a good thirty miles from Avalanche, a long ride even without the mountainous trails. There was no reason a’tall why a fancy lady like Julia would be…exiting the millinery shop even now, and striding toward him?

  He straightened with a jolt. Truly, his eyes were playing him a fool. But sure as he sat there, that was his Julia coming toward him, her ruffled yel
low dress swishing in the breeze. She even had on one of her gigantic, flower-bedecked hats. And she was smiling, too. Julia looked, Graham saw, exactly as he’d wished she would, when she came to tell him she wanted him.

  Ahhh, but this could not be! Scowling, Graham snatched up the bottle of Old Orchard, and poured the whole thing into the dusty ground. The sour scent of the whiskey rose around him, but even that couldn’t mask…the scent of oranges?

  A shadow fell over him as he stared, dumbfounded, at the bottle he held. Heart pounding, Graham looked up.

  “Hello,” Julia said, almost shyly.

  It seemed his vision could speak. Deciding to play along, Graham thrust the bottle back into its place on the ground, and cleared his cottony throat. “Hello.”

  Hesitantly, she touched a hand to her hat, steadying it as she pushed something through the ribbons and fabric flowers at its crown. A glimmer of gold sparked from between her fingers, and Graham recognized the thing she held.

  ’Twas the hatpin he’d given her.

  His pulse thrummed anew. A new, entirely lunk-headed hope rose within him. Could it be that he hadn’t imagined her at all?

  Graham stood.

  They gazed at each other for the space of several breaths, both with—he was sure—identically disbelieving expressions on their faces. He yearned to touch the tendrils of silky dark hair framing Julia’s face, to catch hold of her hand and tug her closer for a kiss. But that would dissolve the illusion, Graham figured. And so he did not.

  Lord, but it was good to see her.

  A flurry of movement behind Julia caught his attention. A woman ran from the millinery shop, a paper fluttering in her hand. Breathlessly, she came to a stop just beside them, and tapped Julia on the shoulder.

  “You forgot your receipt for your new hat, miss,” the woman said, holding out the scrap of paper. “I thought you might want to have it.”

  Julia murmured her thanks. As the woman returned to the shop, she tucked the receipt into her reticule and then regarded Graham calmly again.

  He let his gaze rise to her head, where the decorations on her wide-brimmed hat fluttered in the breeze. “You bought a new hat, just now, for this meeting?” Graham asked.

  “Of course,” she said with a smile, as though doing such things were as natural as breathing. “Just because I’ve only now ridden into town doesn’t mean I can’t look my best for you.”

  He gawped.

  “’Tis becoming,” he managed to say.

  And then he knew. ’Twas her. Truly. He couldn’t possibly have conjured up something so feminine-frilly, so touching and so thoroughly Julia, all on his own.

  Joy filled him. Julia had come for him, Graham realized. She’d followed him, and now—now he did not intend to let her get away again. She could write a dozen letters, launch a thousand pretend-engagement schemes, wear any kind of outlandish hat she wished. Nothing would change his mind. Not even…bringing along an audience to their reunion?

  Momentarily puzzled, Graham glanced over her shoulder at the group milling there. And then he recognized them—at least a dozen Avalanche residents. Familiar men and women all, they stood whispering and smiling and trying not to seem as though they were watching Graham and Julia’s encounter with avid interest.

  “Aren’t you wondering why I’m here?” she asked.

  Graham’s attention swerved back to her. The joy in his heart multiplied, bringing a wide smile to his face.

  “No,” he said. “I know why you’re here.”

  “You—you do?”

  Although Julia had seemed relieved to see his smile, now she looked visibly discomfited. There was no cause for that, Graham knew, although he understood it and wanted to reassure her. Gently, he captured her gloved hand in his, and stroked his thumb over her palm.

  “I do.” He allowed his smile to broaden, even as he felt her quiver beneath his touch. There would be more of that quivering later, Graham vowed. Also more moaning, more stroking, more pleasure. For both of them. But first… “You’ve come to finagle yourself a bridegroom.”

  She looked shocked, and tried to withdraw her hand. “I have not come to finagle anything!” She fussed with her reticule, trying to open it one-handed, and finally gave up in frustration. “I’ve come, first of all,” Julia told him firmly, “to return your money. I can’t accept it. It’s in my reticule, every last bit, but I—”

  “You’ve come to finagle yourself a bridegroom,” Graham repeated. He lowered his voice, and raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “Namely, me.”

  “Graham! Listen to me. My days of scheming for what I want are over with. I’ve learned so much, and now I know—”

  “I don’t want the money,” he said, to make her stop fidgeting during this important moment. “No, thank you.”

  “Well, I can’t accept it. And furthermore—” She blew out a gusty breath and tried again to withdraw her hand so she could get into her reticule to retrieve his bank notes. Julia only succeeded in bringing them closer together, so their clothes whispered and their bodies nearly touched.

  She glanced up at him, startled. “Furthermore, I have to insist, again, that I’m not trying to finagle you into anything! I don’t know where you got such a notion, but I assure you—”

  Graham shook his head. “You are. ’Tis obvious to me that any woman who would be willing to gather a posse—” he nodded toward their spectators “—and track down her chosen man would also be capable of finagling him into marriage.”

  She opened her mouth, looking bowled over. “Graham! Honestly, I…well…well. We should deal with the matter of your money first.”

  He ignored her natterings about the money. ’Twould belong to them both to share soon enough, anyway.

  “’Tis also obvious,” Graham went on, “that any woman who could turn a rootless drifter into a settling-down kind of man deserves to be listened to. So I’m ready to hear your proposal.”

  “You—you—my proposal?”

  “Of marriage,” Graham clarified helpfully. She really was too easy to tease, this woman he loved. He’d have to rein that in eventually…maybe after their second or third child had arrived. He released her and removed his hat to achieve the proper air of solemnity. “Go ahead.”

  “I…I…”

  “I can see you’re a little tongue-tied. ’Tis surprising, in a woman who knows her mind well enough to tell a man she wants him, in broad daylight, before a dozen witnesses.”

  “Seventeen!” Aunt Geneva piped up, moving slightly forward in anticipation. “There are seventeen of us!”

  “Thank you,” Graham called. He winked to their audience, then turned to Julia again. “Fear not,” he said. “I only left Avalanche, and you, because I believed you wanted me to. ’Tis obvious now, though, that you want me with you.”

  “I want you with me?”

  He shook his head, grinning again. He tossed his hat onto the boulder behind him. “’Tis not a question, darlin’.”

  “I want you with me.” Julia tested the words, and apparently found them to her liking. She clutched his shoulders and rose a little on tiptoes. “I do want you with me!” she cried more loudly. “That’s why I’m here! I missed you so much.”

  “See? I knew it,” Graham said. Damnation, but he loved this woman. “And…?”

  “And?” Julia wrinkled her brows.

  “You may continue finagling me,” he offered.

  A blush rose to her cheeks. Truly, she looked even prettier than he remembered.

  “Ummm.”

  “Tongue-tied again?” Graham asked. “Then I will have to help you.”

  He grasped her hand, and lowered to one knee in the dust. The seventeen from Avalanche gave a gigantic “awwww” sound, and went on watching.

  “Graham! What are you doing?” Julia asked.

  “I’m staying,” he said. “With you.”

  “But—” A sudden indecision flashed across her face. “But you said you’re not a staying kind of man.”


  “Not true.” He shook his head. “I simply hadn’t found…anyplace that felt like home yet.”

  “Oh, Graham…”

  “With you, I have.”

  “Oh!” Julia squeezed his hand, and a sheen of tears brightened her eyes. “Do you really mean it? When I wrote you that note, I didn’t understand. I didn’t mean to—”

  “’Tis behind us,” Graham told her. “It’s all right now.”

  She sniffed. “Then you forgive me?”

  “Forgive you?” From his position on bended knee, Graham gave her a renewed, undoubtedly spoony grin. “Of course I forgive you. I love you.”

  A little cry escaped her. Bending slightly, Julia pressed a kiss to his mouth. Her cheeks were damp with tears now, and her lips trembled faintly against his. But Graham welcomed her, all the same, and held her close for a long moment. Then, he urged her to straighten.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered as she did, clasping his hand in both of hers and cradling it against her. “With all my heart. Forever and ever, and ever.”

  ’Twas not quite fair for a man to feel so much happiness as he did right now, Graham thought. But so long as he did…all he wanted was to share it with Julia.

  “Then I surrender,” he said. “You have finagled me.”

  Her answering smile was part loving recognition of his teasing, part loving chastisement. She rolled her eyes at his antics. “I did not come here to finagle you. But so long as I have…”

  “So long as you have, you may as well agree with me,” Graham said. He cast her a tender smile, and took his time to savor her nearness. “And so long as you have already shown me more happiness than I have ever known, and so long as you have already made me feel the luckiest man in all the territory, so long as you have done all that…you may as well consider this, too.”

  “Consider what?”

  “That I love you, and I will love you until my dying day. That nothing I do will ever feel complete unless you are by my side. That I need you with me always.” Graham cleared a suspicious hoarseness from his voice and went on. “That you are my heart and soul, and I will not so much as let you leave my sight again until you answer this one question.”